Momentum from the push sent her flying backwards to land on her bum.
She might have recovered her dignity if his lips hadn’t twitched with fighting a smile.
Damn him! She jumped up to her feet. “We made a deal. Quinn has to send word if your people can find Fenella. What about your honor?”
Daegan sighed on a long exhale.
She caught a tinge of smoke and outdoors, a distraction when she had to pay attention. She tugged on one of the delicate gold triple-loop earrings Fenella had given her as a birthday gift.
Fenella had pointed out more than once that Casidhe should never play cards for money with that nervous habit.
She dropped her hand.
If Fenella had been captured, she had no one to depend upon but Casidhe. Contacting Herrick would put him in danger the minute he came out to confront Daegan, who had followers called Beladors. Small details such as that kept popping into her mind. Daegan claimed to have many followers. If he spoke of Beladors, he had a force of warriors with telepathic and kinetic powers.
That Quinn guy had to be a Belador, too. While not immortal, they physically appeared to be humans, allowing them to blend in with any population.
Daegan had a supernatural army if he had as many followers as he claimed. Too many for Herrick to fight.
Lose Fenella and Herrick?
Over Casidhe’s dead body.
Daegan surged to his feet and stepped close, tension vibrating the air. “’Tis the truth no one has tested me as greatly as ya in a long time. Quite a feat considerin’ the Imortiks I have fought.”
“Really? I’m annoyin’? Don’t flatter me. I’m accustomed to people askin’ questions politely and not standin’ in my face when they do it. You have zero respect for personal space.”
He pulled his head back, appearing stunned. “What is wrong now?”
She should be used to someone as old as him not understanding terms like personal space, because Herrick had the same problem at times.
With Herrick, she showed patience and explained terminology.
With Daegan, she made it simple with blunt words. “Back the hell up and give me room to breathe. Your power is makin’ me claustrophobic.” When he frowned, she gritted her teeth and jumped to explain before he asked another question. “Claustrophobic means you’re makin’ me feel like I’m suffocatin’.”
“Have ya always suffered this ailment?”
“For the love of kittens ... move! In fact, have a seat, again. Clearly at your age you tire easily.”
His intimidating gaze darkened, but he hadn’t set his dragon on her yet. She’d consider that a victory if not for reminding herself she held a value to him only until she found the grimoire. If she allowed Daegan to push her around in her own territory, she would never get a handle on this mess.
Daegan put his hands behind his head and walked away, shedding frustration like water falling off a pitched roof. He turned an angry human gaze on her. “Ya continue to dodge my questions, yet ya want my help findin’ Fenella, who may or may not be captured. But the druid does have my man and I do have people sufferin’ from Imortiks. They are dependin’ upon me to find a grimoire. Ya said I had to prove I was of the Treoir family. I have done so yet ya have failed to prove ya are a Luigsech. Do not ask me for anythin’ else, even findin’ Fenella, if ya have no real proof of bein’ a Luigsech. If not, I have sorely wasted my time. Convince me who ya are or I shall look elsewhere for the grimoire and ya can hunt for Cathbad on your own.”
He had her there and he knew it, damn his scary self.
She’d been trained for battle, but had been in few verbal confrontations over the years due to spending her life with her nose stuck in books.
That put her at a disadvantage for arguing with Daegan.
When he settled once again in her reading chair, she gave him a narrow-eyed glare and took the seat behind her desk.
What would she do if Daegan just disappeared? He might be her best hope for finding Fenella.
Regardless, she could not allow him to put her on defense or he would do nothing in exchange for hunting his blasted grimoire.
She spun her chair to face him. “I am not an imposter. I was adopted and brought into the Luigsech family. Don’t waste your breath askin’ for their contact information. I will not bring danger to their door when they have shown me nothin’ but kindness.”
Daegan sat very still for a moment then stretched out his long legs. “Why would they not choose one of their blood to carry the Treoir history?”
Her erratic pulse slowed a bit at his less abrasive words. Or maybe it was how his speech had devolved into what he may have sounded more like long ago. Had he lost some of his natural language by being away from the world locked inside TÅμr Medb for so many years?
Did she give a flying crap? No.
She drew in a calming breath and chose her words carefully. “I was brought into the Luigsech home at a young age. I studied next to their oldest daughter, the one they’d chosen to carry the spoken history of many things, not just the Treoirs.”
He arched a dark eyebrow at her. “The Luigsech squire family my father brought into his castle were to retain and pass on only Treoir history. I am findin’ it harder and harder to accept ya know anythin’ about my family ... or that ya can locate the grimoire.”
“This is why it’s hard to talk to you.”
“What do ya mean?”
“You expect me to accept anythin’ you say when you aren’t willin’ to hear me out.” Her fingers fisted, but she put her hand on the desk and forced her digits to open.
Daegan wanted whatever she knew about him and his Treoir family? She’d love to tell him she knew the stories of how his red dragon had murdered everyone long ago, plus how Herrick stepped in to save the Luigsech squire family.
Not happening.
That would require admitting she knew about the ice dragons and ... oh crap.
She froze at the rest of that thought.
Sitting before her might be the only person who knew where to find Skarde.
Chapter 2
Quinn blinked as the swirling colors and disorientation of teleporting from Ireland back to the United States subsided. Jet lag stressed a human body traveling four thousand miles by airplane from a country five hours ahead in time, but teleporting was no simple leap for a nonhuman either.
His head had to catch up. When his mind cleared, he stood in Piedmont Park just north of downtown Atlanta. Heat that had built up during a normal summer day assaulted him.
Right place.
He’d like to eat and grab a shower, but he needed to take care of business here as quickly as he could and return to Ireland to help Daegan find Tristan.
Plus, Daegan had no one watching his back, certainly not that Luigsech woman.
Glancing around to be sure his arrival had been viewed by no humans, he stepped out of the shadowy copse of trees Daegan used often for teleporting into the city. Threatening clouds offered some relief from the blazing sun for the few willing to brave a visit to the park.
Not surprising with preternaturals being spotted in Atlanta.
Quinn headed for the street bordering the park while sending a text for a driver to meet him immediately. With confirmation one would arrive in less than two minutes, he sent a brief message to Trey, letting him know he’d returned. Trey had been slammed with telepathic communication when Quinn left and would probably appreciate a text instead.