Page 80 of Drawn in Blood
He didn’t need to say it, or even sign it. She wasn’t doing this alone, and somehow, that realization made her breathing slow, her heart rate steadying. Aoife walked into the room again, Gaelen now following behind her, head bowed.
“What on earth,” Aoife gasped, as she walked toward them, heels clicking on the tile. “Ember, you’re bleeding.”
“Just a small mishap.” Collum smiled, clearing his throat. “Everything is under control.” The way he grinned made Ember’s stomach sour, bile rising in her throat. He preened under the weight of Aoife’s gaze, and Ember was certain she was going to be sick.
Whether that was the corrupt Warden or a possible concussion, she was unsure.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Gaelen motioned gently, guiding Ember toward what she assumed was the kitchen to clean the blood off her face.
“Nonsense, Gaelen,” Aoife said, as she shooed her away. “Let me do it.”
Ember’s anxiety lessened as Aoife led her into the kitchen, motioning for her to sit on a stool at the bar. Ember furrowed her brow as she watched her rummage through the cabinets, like she had lived there her entire life. She pulled out a piece of gauze from a small box in the cabinet and walked back over to Ember.
“Collum has a bit of a temper on him.” She smiled. “It seems you found yourself on the wrong end of it.”
“Is there a right end of his temper?” Ember asked, wincing as Aoife dabbed at the cut.
“The one that doesn’t land you with a nasty cut on your face,” Aoife replied, brow raised. “I don’t think it will scar.”
“Isn’t there a spell for this,” Ember winced, “or a tonic or something? Gaelen can heal me like she did at the Rukr game.”
Aoife shook her head as she stepped back. “Sometimes we have to learn lessons the hard way.” She smiled gently.
Ember furrowed her brow. Lesson? He had attacked her when she was just trying to find her mum. He had damn near kidnapped her. What was she supposed to do? Ember nodded, biting her tongue as she hopped off the barstool. “Mum, what are we doing?” Ember asked. “Why are we here? You’re scaring me.” She bit her lip as she willed her pulse to slow, but she couldn’t seem to get a hold on the anxiety building in her chest.
Aoife let out a sigh as she nodded. “I know you are, Mo Stór,” she replied. “I’m sorry for the abruptness of it all, but I promise I will explain it all in time.” She kissed Ember on top of the head and smiled. “Don’t be afraid, this change will be good for our family.”
Ember closed her eyes as she felt her heart break. She was so, so tired of change. Maeve was still missing, and there was nothing she could do to help Eira and Otto. Her heart clenched as she thought about the boys and her friends. Did they even realize she was gone yet? What would they do when they found out she was missing? Would they try to find her? Panic began to rise in her chest. She wasn’t even sure if she was still on the island, or in Ireland at all. She could be anywhere in the world. Her panic began to morph into anger as she thought about Collum and the friendship her mother seemed to have with the man. Alarm bells began sounding in her head—this was anything but good.
“Now this way,” Aoife continued. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Ember’s chest tightened as they walked back into the foyer—she was not keen on meeting anyone else today, thank you very much. As if on cue, the front door swung open, a tall man walking in like he owned the place as she braced herself. His black coat hung almost to his ankles, flowing like a cloak as the door swung shut behind him. He stroked his white beard, adjusting the tie hanging around his neck. He smiled, pearly white teeth and an aristocratic jaw that almost reminded her of Killian, and gave Ember and Theo a nod that was both grace and a warning all in one.
“Mo Chroí.” He smiled, wrapping Aoife in a hug, and kissing her on the head.
Ember furrowed brow.Mo Chroí?
“Ember, Theo,” Aoife said, as she returned the man’s hug with a smile, “this is Jarl Ulrik Helvig.”
“Jarl?” Ember asked, taking a smaller step in front of the strange man. “You mean like a king?”
“Yes, like a king, you brat,” Collum hissed from beside her. “Show some respect.”
Ember bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him, feeling the gash on her cheek tingle as she did.
“Easy, Collum, the girl doesn’t know any better,” Helvig placated the young man seething beside her. “More like a chief.” He laughed gruffly, turning to Ember. “You’ll find we follow the Old Ways here.”
“Where exactly ishere?” she all but demanded. She wasn’t some child who could just be yanked about wherever they pleased, not anymore. She would be treated with respect.
“Oh, I apologize. I suppose you don’t have your bearings yet,” Helvig said with a smile that made Ember’s stomach turn. “Welcome to Tórsvik.”
Ember’s head spun as she tried to think about the maps of Ellesmere she had studied. Were they even still on Ellesmere? In Ireland? Surely, her mother hadn’t up and moved them to another country entirely.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Jarl Helvig,” Ember said as politely as possible while giving one of the worst curtseys known to man.
“No need for the formalities,” he laughed gruffly. “Some call me Father, but you can call me Granda’.”
At this point, Ember was certain she was going to pass out.
