Mists of Velvet

you to know that I was spawned by such evil?”
    His grin was slow, and he reached for her shoulders. “No. Does it disgust you that I’m just a mere mortal?”
    “Of course not.”
    “Then why would it bother me to know who your father is? You’re not like him. You’ve proven that.”
    “I didn’t know until that night in the cottage, when I had the vision. It was then, when he and I were face-to-face, that he told me.”
    Rhys hugged her to him. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
    She nodded and held on. “What will the others think?”
    “They’ll keep their thoughts to themselves, if they know what’s good for them. And Bran . . . Well, I know for a fact he’ll find a way to exploit your connection with the mage for his benefit.”
    “I will freely offer my knowledge.”
    “Not if it risks your life.”
    “Rhys, be sensible. I hold the greatest key to beating him. I can find him whenever I want. I have only to touch that mark.”
    “And the same goes for him. The minute you search him out, he can find you. No, I won’t put you at risk.”
    “MacDonald,” called the gruff voice from the other side of the door, “are you in there?”
    Shit, how had Bran found him?
    “I’m prepared to overlook you’re someplace you shouldn’t be, if you get your ass moving. We’re preparing to leave.”
    “For where?” he and Bronwnn called at the same time.
    “Rowan believes she knows where Carden is.”
    “I’ll be there. Just give me a minute.”
    “Hurry it up. Cailleach will no doubt be coming over to retrieve her handmaiden.”
    “I’m going with you,” she whispered to him, clutching him tight. “I might be able to help.”
    “No.”
    “Rhys, be sensible.”
    “I’ve never been more sensible than I’m being right now.”
    “No, you’re not. You’re being bossy, irrational.”
    Rhys looked down at her. “We’re staying together, so you’d better get used to being bossed around by a temperamental mortal.”
    “How can you help?” she asked. She didn’t need to add, When you’re a mortal? He saw that reminder in her eyes.
    “Thanks for the confidence. But I told you I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
    She smiled and watched as he reached beneath the bed. Drawing out a bow and some arrows, Rhys flung them on the mattress. “I might not be magically inclined, but I can hit a bull’s-eye every time.”
    “You made these?” she asked.
    “Yeah. Keir brought them for me from the club.” Whistling softly, he signaled his new pet. The adder emerged from the darkened corner and slithered across the floor, then up his arm.
    It opened its mouth, and its fangs dripped venom, which Rhys poured onto the arrow tips.
    “Not magical,” he said to her as she watched him, “but we mortals can be resourceful.”

    In his study, Bran trained his gaze upon Bronwnn as she came out of her trance. “Did you see anything?”
    “No, Your Highness. It is the same as always. A darkened cave with water, with symbols on the walls. Crosses, like Rhys’ necklace.”
    “Christian.” Bran clasped his hands behind his back. “I know little of the mortal religion. Rhys, what of you?”
    “I know some, but I wasn’t a regular churchgoer.”
    “Wraith, where is Rowan?” Bran asked impatiently. “She might know and understand these symbols.”
    “Give her a minute,” Keir growled. “She has a headache and has been feeling tired. She said she’d be right down.”
    Bran rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to sound inconsiderate.”
    “I will go to her.”
    Rhys didn’t need to enter Keir’s thoughts to know the wraith was coming unglued. There was more than tension in his big shoulders. There was fear. Something was wrong with Keir, a worry that showed in his face.
    Watching the wraith leave the room, Rhys wrapped his arm around Bronwnn’s shoulders.
    “Something is wrong,” she whispered. “I can feel it.”
    “With Keir?” he asked, frowning.
    “No, with Rowan.”
    “Bran!” The cry rent through the air, followed by the pounding of feet on the stone staircase.
    “She’s gone!” Mairi gasped as she burst into the room. “Rowan’s been taken. There’re signs of a struggle.”
    The terror coursing through Keir nearly brought Rhys to his knees. When the wraith appeared behind Mairi, he looked murderous—far darker than Rhys had ever seen him.
    “What do you mean, she’s gone?” Bran demanded.
    Keir held a crumpled piece of paper, which Bran