Warrior, Opposed: Book One Of The Comhairle Chronicles

Chapter Thirteen - The Hoard and the Horde

The silent car journeys were really beginning to grate on Tor, the last thing he needed was another as they headed into Newcastle city centre. Yet despite his irritation at the uncompanionable quiet, he could think of nothing to say, even though he’d clearly offended Deòthas again. She had no interest in conversing as she stared stubbornly out of the windscreen and onto the rain drenched tarmac of another wet and wintery evening. A frosty night would’ve been cold, crisp, and clear. Instead it was damp, dreary and depressing. It suited his mood perfectly.

If he’d just shut up and avoid flirting with catastrophe, he wouldn’t keep tripping himself up. But it appeared that every time he took one step forward, he then took two steps back.  Who would’ve thought that his most difficult challenge since becoming a ghaisgeach would not be taking down the enemy, but claiming the girl? What hope did he possess if his efforts to give her the time she needed also pushed her further away?

Ah, Torrann’s fucking hammer. What in ifrinn was the point? Maybe just announcing ‘hey, we’re mates, deal with it’, would be better...

Or maybe not.

Deòthas parked the Range Rover, but she didn’t look at him as she muttered, “Stay with the car and be ready to move when I need you to.  Hopefully whoever comes to collect won’t know you, but stay in the shadows anyway, and stay silent.”

“But Tancred said…”

He didn’t finish the sentence before his partner cut him off, hissing, “Tanc said he needed my skill set, and you to function as combat support if things get hairy. They aren’t going to go south in the hospital. There are too many witnesses to use large numbers of puppets, or to commit an armed assault. Plus I’m warrior enough to handle myself against a few enemies, be they human or marionette. Don’t take what Raghnall did to me as evidence of an inability to defend myself now. If you do, I’ll beat the memory of that conversation out of you with my bare hands. Clear?

“Also, I need you to place one of these on any vehicle which looks like it could be our target.” Deòthas handed Tor a small pack of miniscule devices as she spoke, each one no bigger than a watch battery. “They’re a set of Nate’s finest GPS tracking devices. You’ll get a couple to carry once you’re properly equipped, but for now use mine. Just stick one on the inside of a wheel arch or something, somewhere it’s not going to be noticed. Then you’ll need to text Tanc and let him know to get Nate on the job. They should be ready for it, but a message won’t hurt.

“Just remember that I’m still in charge here, baby bhampair, and we’re going to do this my way. Now, get in the driver’s seat, and be prepared to pick me up and tail a mark if necessary. It’ll be more useful for me to know you’re here, and that we can get straight after a target, than if I'm worrying about you clumping around after me.”

Baby bhampair? His mate had seriously just called him ‘baby bhampair’.  Righteous indignation may have flowed through him, except that by the time he opened his mouth to speak, Deòthas had gone.

She glided across the car park, little more than a darker shade of black among the shadows. If he hadn’t seen her leave the car, Tor wouldn’t have picked her out at all, not once she covered her white blonde hair with the hood of the fitted sweater which she’d put on under her leather jacket. She really was a phantom; quick, quiet, and completely deadly. Within the blink of an eye, he was alone, staring at the external wall of the morgue, wondering if Tancred would kill him quickly or draw it out in the event of Deòthas’s demise.

The chief, who cared for his fey warrior far more than either of them would admit, would kill him quick, if only as an act of mercy. Seren would do it out of pity for his loss. Maybe the others wouldn’t care enough to kill him. Except Raghnall. Maybe Raghnall would punish him for grieving first, for the traitorous pain that would bind him to Deòthas even after she ran off on her own and got herself killed.