"Where's MacRieve now?"
Cade answered, "Rydstrom's questioning him."
"Did you catch the look in the Lykae's eyes when she had him pinned?" Tierney said around bites of fruit. "He'd known she was going to kill him." He frowned at Mari. "It's hard to see you now and think you're the one that destroyed the tomb." Like the others, Tierney was regarding her as if she was a curiosity - with a mix of admiration and wariness. "You weren't kidding when you said you blow things up, were you?"
"Leave her alone." Tera sat beside Mari and stroked her tangled hair. "Can't you tell Mariketa's shell-shocked?"
Shell-shocked, confused, and disgusted by how filthy she was. She could smell the incubi on her and knew she reeked even after being doused in the pouring rain. She was also wondering what the plan was now -
MacRieve and Rydstrom entered the cave. Everyone but Mari scrambled to their feet.
"What the hell is he doing in here?" Cade demanded, his hand shooting to his sword hilt.
"Cade, I'll talk with you outside," Rydstrom said, his tone brooking no argument. So kingly. "All of you. I've news I want to discuss."
Tera cast a scathing expression in MacRieve's direction. "And MacRieve?"
"Leave him."
"What if the Lykae tries something with Mariketa?" Tierney asked.
Without looking up, Mari answered in a soft tone, "If the Lykae tries something with Mariketa, she'll finish what she started before."
Rydstrom raised his eyebrows at that, then turned for the cave entrance. The others reluctantly followed.
Alone with her, MacRieve paced, glancing at her repeatedly and muttering in Gaelic. She understood a bit of the language - her mother was a druid, after all - and knew enough curse words and the term for witch to pick up the general thrust of his thoughts.
Over MacRieve's muttering, she could hear the others' conversation outside. Rydstrom began by explaining what would happen if Mari didn't call her coven before the full moon and how MacRieve had been handed the task of escorting her back.
The others decided that they would be the ones to see her home for myriad reasons. First, they planned to kill MacRieve directly and so didn't see him available for the role of escort. Secondly, they wanted to protect "the little mortal" - the archers, because the three saw her as one among the fey, and Cade, because, as he said, "I bloody feel like it."
In that case, Rydstrom wanted them to spare the Lykae to allow him to be an extra sword. They would need him, he reasoned, to protect Mari on the journey to civilization because it was more perilous now than when she'd come on her own. The human armies were on the move and posed a real threat to her.
But the others despised MacRieve, couldn't trust him, and all agreed that "Bowen the Bitter doesn't exactly play well with others."
Bowen the Bitter? How appropriate.
They also agreed that they didn't know a more brutal, ruthless, and underhanded immortal than Bowen MacRieve.
MacRieve scowled in their direction, then turned back to her, as if he hoped she hadn't heard that. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it. What did he want to say to her? What could he say? "Oh, my bad for setting you up for torture and terror, and I know you will never be the same again, but... "
"I thought you would be able to get free," he finally said. "I never intended for you to be trapped so long."
She ignored him, staring at the far wall of the cave.
"And I could no' return sooner because I was trapped somewhere as well. With no food or water either."
Good. When she gave him no acknowledgment, his frustration became palpable. He ran his new hand over his face, seeming surprised to find it restored. Then, as if he couldn't stop himself, he actually sank down beside her.
There they sat in the firelight. Enemies. He'd almost destroyed her. She'd nearly murdered him. And for some reason, this moment felt the most surreal of the entire crazed night - because she recognized that on some level his presence... comforted.
"You've got to lift this curse from me, Mariketa."
She finally faced him with her brows drawn. "I did."
"Aye, you did lift one, but I know you hexed me more than once."
She pinched her forehead between her thumb and forefinger. "What are you talking about?"
"Sometime when we kissed, you enthralled me. You've made it so... so that I feel that you're my mate."
"Why do you think I've done this?" she asked, trying to recall that hazy night.
"Because you've shown you're no' shy about casting spells on me. And the Valkyrie Nïx confirmed it - she also said you would remove it for me."
Mari swallowed. She knew Nïx and trusted her.
He studied her expression. "Do you deny this?"
Want me as fiercely as I want you... She just prevented her eyes from widening. Oh, Hekate, had she made him want her? To the degree that he would believe she was his mate? She flushed guiltily.
Then her lips parted. The prediction.
It began with the obligatory "It shall come to pass...," then basically said that if an immortal warrior recognized the Awaited One as his, he would steal her away from the House of Witches. No magick would be strong enough to defeat his hold on her.
Was it MacRieve in the prediction?
An immortal? Check. A warrior? Check. Who'd recognized her as his mate? Damn.
Could she have brought this about with her erratic powers? Apparently so.
"If you dinna do this, then just deny it. Vow to the Lore that you dinna, and then we will figure out what is happening."
She couldn't say she'd done it, but she certainly couldn't deny it outright either.