Page 40 of Dark Embrace

“My grandmother guides me from the dead,” she said shortly.

He shook his head and walked out of the tent.

Brie tried to take the ring off, just to relieve her finger for a moment, but she couldn’t. She sighed and sat down. Tears filled her eyes, only partly from exhaustion. She’d been brought back to the year of his hanging, and the reason was obvious. She was in the Highlands to save his life, both figuratively and literally. Less obvious was the possibility of redeeming him.

Maybe she was mad, she thought, to even think of guiding Aidan back to the gods. She couldn’t help pushing him and testing him, she realized. If he was as evil as he said, their debate would have amused him instead of angering him.

Everything angered him.

And why not? He’d lost his son. The gods could have intervened, but it had been Fate. It was tragic and unfair, and to make matters worse, his son had been haunting him for sixty-six years. She’d be angry, too.

Her infatuation had to go. It was in the way. She hadn’t gone back in time for a fling—or a life-altering romance.

But she was still feeling hurt. At least they were having a dialogue, she thought. Brie walked over to the tent flap and lifted it. Aidan was standing outside, right there, and he glanced at her. She shivered and pulled her wool plaid more tightly round her. “It’s cold. Come back inside.” She was going to stop him from fighting Frasier tomorrow.

He slowly smiled. “So ye can seduce me away from my plans?”

“I couldn’t seduce a randy freshman on spring break,” she said. “I could never seduce you.”

He walked past her, back into the tent. “I won’t hang, Brianna. Not anytime soon.”

She tensed. “That’s not what history says.”

He shrugged.

“Aidan, if you fight tomorrow, you are committing treason, and you will hang. Frasier will make certain of it.”

His gaze changed and became searching.

“Can you please postpone the battle? Please?” she pleaded.

He shook his head. “I dinna mind dyin’. But I willna die until I have avenged my son. So ye need not fear my hangin’ anytime soon.”

“Do you want to die?” she cried. “Are you in so much pain that you seek escape in death?”

He jerked angrily. “Ye ask too many privy questions! I am tired of yer insolence, yer pryin’. I am tired of ye, Brianna!”

Somehow she shook her head and stood her ground. “You can read my every thought, and you are ruthless in doing so. Unfortunately, I don’t have that power. It’s okay for you to read my mind and uncover my secrets, but I can’t ask a few personal questions?”

His eyes were wide. “The little woman has nails,” he said softly. “But ye need claws, Brianna, if ye think to go up against me.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” she said tersely.

“O’ course not. Ye want to heal me, redeem me—and share my bed.” His eyes flashed.

She trembled. “Does being cruel please you?”

“Aye, it pleases me greatly!” he snapped.

Ian stepped between them.

Brie gasped.

Aidan’s eyes widened. He had seen Ian, too. And then he cried out in savage frustration. “Nay! Come back, Ian! Come back!”

But Ian was still standing there, looking back and forth between them. Brie couldn’t understand why Aidan could no longer see him. The small ghost turned and began talking rapidly to his father. She could not hear a word he said.

Aidan’s face had become a reflection of raw, ravaged grief. He looked years older. “Is he still here?” he cried frantically.