I know who they are. My best friend Fiona lived with them when she left Stone City. I spent hours as a youth with Fiona and her sister Sheena, and Sheena’s husband Nolan. I got to know the clan matriarch, kind and gentle Maeve. She isn’t here tonight. I know Keenan, the eldest, though he’s a bit older now. I wonder if he’d recognize me. I bet he would. He misses bloody nothing.
Jesus, I recognize all of them, but when my eyes fall on Lachlan and Fiona, I sink into myself, turn away, hoping they won’t see me. I will die if they do. Die.
I teased Fiona when she married Lachlan, asking her for an introduction to some of the single members of the Clan. I didn’t really want anything to do with them, though. Highhanded and old-fashioned, the men of the Clan fancy themselves heads of the house and that is not for me.
Then why does my heart beat faster when I look at them? Why do I tremble when I see the line of handsome—no, sexy men of the Clan, powerful, muscled, and magnificent, sitting along the front row like the Vikings of old? Fearless, strong, and mighty.
Jesus, I’m out of my feckin’ mind.
I spent hours getting ready for tonight with Klara, but I had no idea it was here. I had no idea that the people I knew in Ballyhock would arrive, and that none other than Tiernan fucking Hurston would take the ring. If I knew, I never would’ve come at all. No fucking way.
Am I high? Am I drunk? My mind’s gotten away from me.
If I’m honest… Jesus, I’m both, but not so much that it’s affected my ability to think straight. I’d know Tiernan fucking anywhere.
Before the match is even over, Vivian gestured for us to join her.
“Come with me, girls,” she said. “We have to keep you safe.”
Did she know something I didn’t? A minute later, as we followed her to the exit, the crowd began to scream and boo. The man was pummeling him, fists flying with a viciousness that went beyond a ring brawl. He’s came here to hurt him, maybe even kill him. I looked quickly around, only to find that bastard, Tiernan’s opponent, brandishing a fucking weapon.
I froze. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even bloody breathe, as I saw him attacking to kill. I was dimly aware of the crowd’s screams of fury, but I shoved them out of my consciousness. My only focus was Tiernan.
“He’s going to kill him!” I scream, but my shouts are drowned by the sounds of the crowd around me. I shoved off hands that reach for me, pushing my way toward the ring like a bloody maniac. What the fuck would I do if I get there? I couldn’t make it, of course, security guards holding me back.
“Aisling!” Klara grabs me and drags me back. She’s stronger than I realized. I try to shove her off, but she pulls me alongside her and Miss Vivian.
“He’ll kill him! He bloody will!” I scream, not even bothering to try to hide my crazy.
“He won’t, lass,” Karla says gently, though her touch is anything but. “Have a wee looksie, will you?” She jerks her chin to the ring. “His brothers are here. No one will harm him.”
And then the crowd goes wild, and even Karla stops jerking me away. Tiernan’s turned the match. He’s got the man under him, brandishing his very own weapon against him, and right then, right there, while I’m high as a fucking kite on drugs and adrenaline, my heart soars.
He’s bested him. He’s bloody fucking bested him.
And then I’m ushered away from the crowd, away from the noises, and into a brightly-lit reception room. Vivian shuts the door hard behind her, then swivels around and looks at us with wide, fearful eyes.
She’s about ten years my senior, with hair as black as ebony, high cheekbones, and full, cherry-red lips that are perpetually painted and glossy. Large silver hoops adorn her ears, bangles along her wrists damn near to her elbows. She jingles when she walks, with a sway to her hips, mesmerizing both women and men alike.
She snaps her fingers. “Sit, my loves.”
She points a long, pointed fingernail at the seats that are scattered around the room.
Where are we?
We sit. She paces the room and sighs, glances at the door and bites her lip. What the hell is going on?
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she mutters, shaking her head. She lights up a smoke and takes a drag. “Bloody hell.”
“Miss Vivian?” One of the younger girls raises her hand.
Vivian whips her head around to look at her, as if just remembering we were there.
“Yes, love?”
“Is there a victor in tonight’s match?”
Vivian blinks, then runs her fingers through her hair. She blinks again, opens her mouth, then shuts it.