Page 88 of The Falconer

‘You were out,’ I say.

‘Damn,’ he mumbles. ‘I should have loved to see it.’

Kiaran runs a hand through his wet hair. Water drips from his clothes into a puddle around his feet.

I have a hard time meeting his gaze after everything that happened last night. The only compliments I’ve ever received from Kiaran were for my battle scars, for how efficiently I can drive a blade through my enemy. Now he’s seen how broken my mother’s death has really left me, and when it mattered, he took away the thing I wanted most. His vow meant nothing, and worse: he made his own promise to Sorcha, and stopped me from killing her when I had the chance. That won’t be easy for me to forgive.

Kiaran draws his shoulders back. He’s so tall, he towers over me. ‘I’m not here to apologise.’

‘Wonderful. Thank you for confirming what I had already assumed,’ I say. ‘There are two exits out of this room. Choose one.’

Derrick chuckles. ‘I’d say this is a rather glorious comeuppance.’

Kiaran’s glare is scorching. ‘Stay out of this.’

‘No,’ Derrick says.

‘Careful, pixie,’ he says. ‘You forget what I am.’

Derrick swoops over to Kiaran and hovers in front of him. His halo is so bright now that none of his features are distinguishable. ‘I’ve never forgotten. That’s why I’ll never trust you with her.’

Kiaran growls something in his language, and Derrick hisses a response with equal venom. I only comprehend a few errant words. The language is just similar enough toGàidhligto sound familiar, but not anything like I’ve heard it spoken.

Finally, Derrick snarls in English, ‘I’m not yours to command. I never was.’

‘All right,’ I say, reaching for the pixie, but he’s far too quick. I manage to insert myself between him and Kiaran. ‘Derrick, could you go into the dressing room and give us a moment?’

He snorts. ‘I think not.’

‘Derrick,’ I say, more firmly.

‘Fine,’ he retorts. ‘But I still want his innards.’

He snaps another unintelligible word at Kiaran before barrelling into the dressing room in a stream of light. The door slams shut behind him.

Kiaran stares at the dressing room door. ‘That pixie must care a great deal for you,’ he says. ‘I’ve never seen one cohabit with a human.’

He has quite an amazing talent for changing the subject. ‘What happened between you two?’

‘Nothing pleasant.’

‘I already assumed that. You didn’t answer my question.’

‘I rarely do.’ When I only glare at him, he says, ‘Say whatever you’re thinking. Get it out.’

I’m so tired of Kiaran’s games, his vague answers. I’m tired of being manipulated. ‘Your vow meant nothing – you let thebaobhan sìthlive.’

‘Necessity, Kam. That was the first lesson I ever taught you.’

‘Don’t treat me like I’m naïve.’ I rake him with my eyes. ‘You speak of necessity to absolve yourself of any responsibility for your actions. Like failing to mention the part you’ve played in keeping my ancestors powerless. That youknewSorcha. In fact, you appeared to be downright familiar with one another. Who is she to you? Old friend?’ I step closer. ‘Oldlover, MacKay?’

Kiaran dips his head, his nose nearly touching mine. ‘That’s none of your damned business.’

I don’t yield. I don’t retreat from him or let him intimidate me. I meet his gaze directly and ask, ‘What vow did you make to her?’ When he doesn’t respond, I speak more forcefully. ‘Tell me.Now.’

How could he say a true vow to her and not me? His word was the one common ground we had. The one thing I could depend on him never to betray, at the risk of his own life. And in the end his vow was just another faery half-lie.

Kiaran’s jaw tics and I wonder if he’ll tell me anything, even another lie. ‘My life is intertwined with hers,’ he says. ‘If Sorcha dies, so do I.’

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