“I didn’t know him very well. I’ve only spoken to him a handful of times. Moorehall is the first place we’ve stayed where he’s been around.”
“Then how did Dorcha know which places to go?”
Fianna threw up her hands in defeat. “I don’t know that either. Dorcha always told me where we were going.”
“You’re in charge of security. That means you should be told what location you will be visiting so you can go there first to scout it out for possible threats.”
“Yes, well, my father had other ideas. He wanted me with Dorcha at all times.”
Rordan frowned. “Did he really believe that Dorcha was in that kind of danger?”
“Yes, and no.”
Flummoxed didn’t even begin to describe Rordan the more he learned. “What does that mean?”
Fianna swallowed nervously, which was his first clue. In the times he had watched her and had been near her, the one thing he hadn’t seen was anxiousness. Unflappable and calm, absolutely. This was something that had developed as she spoke about her family. The longer it went on, the worse she became. He had thought he’d turned the conversation, but in actuality, he’d brought it back around to the one thing she didn’t want to talk about.
“It doesn’t matter,” he quickly said.
She briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, her expression was resolute. “Yes, he knows that people could come after Dorcha as they have him. But I’m the other reason.”
“You?” Rordan asked in shock.
Fianna tried to force a smile but didn’t quite succeed. “I did some foolish things long ago. Dorcha makes sure I don’t screw up again.”
Rordan turned away and ran his hand down his face. He was, in turn, furious and stunned. Out of Fianna and Dorcha, Dorcha was the one who should be watched, not Fianna. Rordan might not know the cause, but he had witnessed the siblings enough to know which one was on the right path, and which wasn’t.
He spun back to face her. “Do you tell Dorcha everywhere you go?”
She nodded slowly. “Well, usually. He was quite upset this morning and told me to find Ruarc. He’s not in a good frame of mind. I decided it was better to come out here without telling him.”
“What happens if you get back and he finds out?”
“Typically, I would have to face my father.”
That got his attention. “What’s different this time?”
She dropped her head back to look at the sky. Then threw out her hands and started pacing as she spoke, her annoyance growing with each word. “Dorcha said Da is gone, which makes no sense. No one but us knows where our father is. Dorcha is keeping something else from me, too. He was scared, something I’ve never seen in his eyes before. He wants me to find Ruarc, and I can’t even do that.”
Rordan reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, halting her. He caught her gaze and held it. “Take a deep breath. It’s going to be fine.”
“It isn’t, though. I can feel it. Something has changed. Da always made the decisions and communicated them through Dorcha, which kept things stable. Inviting guests to Moorehall and the dinner…they’re things Da never would’ve agreed to.”
“Do you think your father has been taken?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I don’t talk to him. Dorcha does.”
It was the first time Rordan saw a hint of vulnerability, and his need to protect roared to life. He had been in a similar situation before, and it had left lasting scars. Despite that, he still found himself wanting to help her—even though he knew it could very well be a trap.
Rordan dropped his arms and straightened. His palms tingled from touching her bare skin. He wanted so much to believe everything she said, but he couldn’t. From his observations, as well as Ruarc’s statement, Fianna kept to herself. She rarely spoke to anyone but the guards. Even Dorcha seemed hellbent on keeping her away from others.
“You said it was Dorcha’s first dinner party.”
Fianna nodded. “He’s never accepted such invitations anywhere or held an event like that before last night.”
“And you?”
Her brow furrowed as she jerked her head back. “What about me?”
“Do you attend such things?”
“Why would I? I’m security. My job is to stay in the background.”
“Yet, last night, you were front and center.”
She rolled her eyes and said flatly, “Against my will.”
“Dorcha forced you?”
Fianna pulled a strand of hair from her eyelashes and tried to smooth it back with the others, but the breeze yanked it from her grasp. “He told me Da ordered it. I had no reason not to believe him. The one thing we don’t do is disobey our father. Ever.”
So far, what she was telling him lined up with everything he’d overheard last night between Dorcha and the four Fae.
“I need to know what’s going on. And I…” She paused and searched his face.
He fisted his hands so he wouldn’t touch her once more. “You what?” he pressed when she didn’t continue.
“I don’t know what to do without Da.”
“You’re very capable. You don’t need anyone telling you what to do.”
She glanced at Ruarc’s house. “I should get back to Moorehall and let Dorcha know I can’t find Ruarc.”
Rordan gave her a smile and a nod. She was waiting for him to return with her, but he wasn’t ready for that. He needed to digest what he’d learned. Once more, he was tempted to call Death and get the background on Fianna and her family. The fact that Ruarc seemed to have disappeared, and the Fae Others Kyra and Dubhan had encountered had shown up the previous night made him decide against it.
He was close to getting answers. What those answers would be, he couldn’t begin to guess.
Chapter Twelve
Fianna knocked on Dorcha’s door for a second time. He didn’t answer, so she combed the manor for him. She found her brother in the gardens, staring at the flowers. She approached him warily. He didn’t notice her until she was upon him.
Dorcha jerked his head to her. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did. Tell me things with Ruarc went as planned.”
She heard Rordan’s parting words and squared her shoulders. “I can’t find him.”
“What?” her brother bellowed. “Are you that incompetent?”
The past few days had reminded her of her childhood, and she wasn’t about to go through such an ordeal again. “He’s not on the grounds, nor is he at his house. I called for him, but he didn’t come.”
“That fekker. He owes us,” Dorcha said between clenched teeth, spittle flying.
“He’s repaid his family’s debt twice over. He doesn’t owe us anything.”
Dorcha glowered at her. “I’ll decide when his debt is paid.”
“That isn’t how this works. Besides, you don’t make the decisions.”
“I do now that Da is gone.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and took a step closer. “Is Da dead? Did you have something to do with him being taken?”