Page 52 of Feral

“Don’t mention it. Just take care of yourself, sir.”

I directed Daphne out onto the road and sat back. The bleeding had slowed but it was still sore, a product of whatever had been on that knife, I’d guess.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Just keep drivin’. There’s a town about half an hour down the way.”

“And what then?”

“A hotel probably. We’ll get a ride from Angus or Lowell in the morning.”

She nodded.

“Who were they?” she asked after a few minutes.

I wish I had an answer for her. While the obvious answer was that Campbell had taken a hit out on us, I wasn’t so sure.

“I don’t know.”

“I saw a ring on the finger of one of them.”

I nodded.

“I did too but…”

“It’s too easy, isn’t it?”

I glanced at Daphne unable to stop the uptick of my lips at the sight of that wrinkle above her nose, which meant she was trying to unravel something. She was more than smart enough, of that I was sure.

Beauty and brains. A lethal combination.

“There was a Goblin,” I answered. “The Campbells would never hire a Goblin for anythin’.”

“So, someone wants us tothinkit was the Campbells.”

“Aye, that’s my guess.”

“Then that means it’s likely the rogue group. They don’t want me to look too closely into what’s happening with your clan.”

My stomach clenched and I nodded. It was exactly what I was thinking as well. And the fact that they’d known so quickly that Daphne was assigned to my clan’s case reeked of someone betraying the Archive from the inside.

Daphne let out a long breath through her nose, her frown deeper now. I could almost see the gears of her brain working on this mystery and it lifted a few of the nerves. I was so used to solving these kinds of things on my own since much of the time Angus was too busy with other clan business, and my brothers were…well, not suited to this sort of thing. But it struck me, watching Daphne try to figure this out, that for the first time, I wasn’t alone.

Chapter Twelve

Daphne

Thetownwefoundwas larger than I would’ve thought, though still quaint. It looked like a tourist trap with its over-the-top Scottish decor and signs, almost as if it were trying to give a very specific kind of Highlander experience.

I’d seen a few kilts on the train, but they were everywhere here and from the way that Fraser glared at some of them, I got the impression that some of the people were playing dress up for the tourists that were milling around the streets and darting in and out of shops.

I pulled up to the hotel that Fraser directed me to, the whole time grumbling about something under his breath. He had put his glamour back on after we acquired the truck and had included his wound in the spell so when we walked up to the desk to get a room, Fraser looked like his normal handsome, grumpy self.

“Can I help you?’ the woman asked, her voice bored until she looked up and saw Fraser standing there. “You need a room?”

I expected him to turn on the charm, use his obvious sex appeal to get us a good room or something. But he just growled out that we needed two rooms and slapped down his credit card.

“I’m sorry but we’re quite booked at the moment,” she said, her thousand-watt smile dimmed. “We have one room with a queen size bed available.”

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