“Get these men into the room,” Lachlan orders. “And you know what to do with the women.”
Tully grabs one man, still howling as crimson blood splashes onto the floor, and Cormac grabs the other.
“Want me to take Fiona to —”
“No. I’ve got her.”
He takes me and leads me past the library to a room I’ve never seen before. It’s chilling and dark, windowless, the floors made of concrete, but I only catch a glimpse from the doorway. It’s like a cell in here, and I can see the men of the Clan, powerful and menacing, lined up like soldiers with weapons. They have prisoners in there. I look away before I see something I can’t unsee.
Keenan meets us at the door, his brows drawn together and his eyes stern and angry.
“What the bloody hell is she doing here?” he asks Lachlan. They have a quick, hushed conversation, and Keenan curses vehemently.
“Of course,” he says. “Do it.”
I watch in silence. I don’t speak or interfere. This is their territory now, and I’d do well to let them do what they must.
“Come, lass,” Lachlan says quietly, but his firm grip on my arm tells me he’s barely hanging onto his temper. “You must do what I say, Fiona. No questions.”
I’m almost glad he puts it this way, that he asks me, because I want to show him that I can do just that. I want to show him that I trust him. I want to give him the assurance of my faith in him, the very foundation of everything we’ve built together.
“Aye, Lachlan,” I tell him, my voice warm with conviction. “Of course.”
He pauses just long enough to pull me close and kiss my forehead. “That’s a good lass.” A few months ago, I may have seen his words as condescending, insisted I was no little lass but a woman. How my feelings have changed in such a short time.
He takes me out a door I’ve never seen before between the library and prison-like room. We walk swiftly to a car and he gives orders on his phone. I didn’t know he was in command like the highest ranking officials, but by the way he tells people what to do, and the way they respond, I know he is. I smile quietly to myself.
I know we’re in danger, but I can’t help admiring the stern cut of his jaw, the furrow of his brow, and the clipped, harsh tone he uses giving commands on the phone.
His authority’s fucking hot.
That’s my man.
“What?” he asks me. He opens the door to a sleek black SUV and practically lifts me in. When I’m seated, he leans in and pulls the belt over my shoulder and buckles me in, then trots to his side and slides into his seat.
“You’re hot, that’s what,” I tell him. “When you go all Mr. Command.”
He shakes his head but smirks. “Your life is on the line and that’s all you can think about?”
“Oh, aye,” I tell him, with an unapologetic grin. “But I can think of much more than that.”
“Like what?” he says as he pulls out of the garage at a speed that makes me catch my breath.
“Like showing you just how sexy Mr. Command is on my knees?” I suggest.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “You’re a naughty little girl.” But I can tell he approves.
“Where are you taking me?”
He sighs. “We’ve a bunker. In the past it was only used for the Chief, a one-man room designed to keep him safe when we’re at battle. It’s only used if there’s danger at the house, as you know we’ve got it heavily guarded.”
I wince. “Yet the guard’s been compromised.”
“Aye,” he says with a sigh. “And as the extended Clan family grows, so has our need for protection. The bunker’s been expanded in the past year. And Keenan and I suspect that what you’ve said about the women of the Clan being targeted this time is spot on.”
“So, they’re all going?”
His jaw tightens. “That’s the plan,” he says. “Though you’re my primary concern at the moment.”
I could kiss him.
I look out the window and hold his hand as he drives past the gate, down the street that takes us away from the shore and deep into the heart of the city. The church and graveyard fly by our windows, then the armory and castle. It’s a bright, blustery day, but sunlight dims when we swoop downhill, toward what looks like a cave. There’s a light on the wall outside the entrance that casts a yellowish, dim glow around it.
“What the hell is this?” I mutter. “Looks like we could’ve gotten here by magic more easily than by car. Flick of the wand, as it were.”
But he doesn’t speak. He parks the car and comes around to get me. When the door opens, the air here’s cooler. We really are in a cave of sorts. I can tell by the musty, damp smell in the air. I scream when I hear, then see, the flutter of wings just above me.
“Just bats, lass,” he says. “Relax.”
Just bats?
There’s a series of locks he unfastens before he opens the heavy door and ushers me in. I feel as if we’re going underground. Hell, I suppose we are, in a sort of hovel. It’s a small apartment, windowless and dark, with a thick, heavy door that looks as if it belongs on a castle. I look around the room and can tell it’s been expanded by an addition that goes further than this one small anteroom. There’s the smell of fresh paint, and brilliant, gleaming floors ahead of us.
Lachlan releases my arm long enough to lock the door behind him, while I look around. There’s a refrigerator, a small restroom, a sofa, and a cot in this room, and a very similar set-up in the room behind it.
“Come here,” Lachlan says, pulling me to him when he’s finally secured the door.
I turn to him and lift my brows in surprise. The anger’s gone and in its place, his eyes are furrowed with concern.
“I’m okay,” I tell him. “Relax.”
“You bloody well are for now,” he mutters. “To think how easily you could’ve been killed…”
I place my hand on his chest and look up at him plaintively.
“I’m fine,” I tell him again. “Do you need to get back to your brothers?”
“Aye, but not until I know you’re safe. So I’ll stay here until then. Normally we’d call the guard, but you know I can’t do that now.”
“Right.”
I look about the room. “So, this is a private room, a holding place, as it were?”
“Aye,” Lachlan says. “It’s the most iron-clad protection we can offer. There’s one way in, and very few know how to get here. Even fewer know the passcodes to the locks.
“Right.” I feel small yet important when I look around the room.
Finally, he lets out a breath, and I do the same. I didn’t realize I was as tense as I was.
“You’re safe,” he whispers, drawing me to his chest and holding me. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his body, as if steeling myself with his devotion and protection.
“Of course I am,” I tell him. “I’m with you, aren’t I?”
He drags his hand down the back of my head and cups it in his hand, drawing me tighter to him. “You are,” he says. “You are.”
His phone rings, and he quickly answers, but he doesn’t let me go. Still tucked up against him, I can hear every word of their conversation. The other women of the Clan are waiting outside.