Free Warrior Reborn by Melissa Mayhue Page B

interest was not in what she needed but in what he needed, a fact she so often failed to remember. “It’s one of them, isn’t it?”
    A flare of irritation sparked in her eyes when they met his. Irritation and . . . was that defiance he saw there? Foolish girl. She had neither the ability to lie to him nor the intelligence necessary to trick him. For his part, he had neither the time nor the patience to indulge her in playing her usual word games.
    “I want a straight answer. Is one of them the man you saw in your Vision? Yes or no, little sister. Don’t parse your words with me. I’m in no mood for it.”
    Her lips straightened to a thin, hard line. “Yes.”
    Good. Progress at last. Though it was like pulling nettles from the skin one by one to get the information he wanted from her.
    “Which of them? Is it the elder brother, Halldor?”
    That one certainly appeared the logical choice. It was he, after all, who’d rushed to escort her into the room; he who’d thrown himself in front of her like a shield when the swordplay had begun.
    “I cannot with any certainty say it is he.”
    The muscles in her jaw worked as if she tried to prevent herself from giving the answers he wanted. Pathetic Tinkler spawn. Had she any sense at all, she would have accepted her place—and her fate—long ago.
    “But it is definitely one of them.” He stated the obvious, seeking her confirmation. “Is it no?”
    “It is.” She bit off the words as if in an attempt to hold them back.
    Leaving him with the challenge of determining which of the men he needed and what role that man would play. Torquil could think of only one way to accomplish the task quickly.
    “I must know which of those men will be responsible for my success. I require you to retire to my tower immediately. You will travel to Skuld’s world for me, seeking a very specific Vision of the future from her.” She had the ability. He’d seen her do such a thing before. That it was difficult and dangerous for her to challenge Skuld’s will was of no importance to him.
    “I canna do as you ask.”
    “What?” He turned on her, roaring his anger, allowing the beast within to rear its head. “I dinna ask it. I ordered it to be so. You’ll do what I say, whenI say it. You’ll no be about refusing me if you value keeping yer daft head upon yer shoulders.”
    “I’m no refusing you, my laird.” She spoke without flinching despite his threat. “I simply canna do as you order. I tried to tell you earlier. It’s the reason I came here, the reason I’ve requested an audience with you for the past week. My supply of herbs is gone. To travel in the manner you require, I must have the tonic Orabilis brews for me. Without the herbs to prepare it, I have no control over where the Visions take me.”
    Deep inside him, violence stirred. Control of the beast had become so much more difficult since that day in the forest when he’d unleashed its power. Even now, the beast clawed its way up from his bowels as his rage flared, demanding to be free, to wreak vengeance on those who would oppose him. To taste blood again.
    But giving himself over to the beast meant relinquishing intellectual control, and that he could not allow. Now, of all times, his wits must remain keen.
    “No,” he forced out between gritted teeth, his internal battle rampaging within.
    “Then I dinna see how—” Christiana began.
    “Silence!” he yelled. Or perhaps the command had come from the beast within him; he couldn’t be sure.
    She backed away from him, her clutched hands held over her heart, her eyes filled with fear.
    Fear that only strengthened the beast.
    Torquil labored to close his eyes, finally turning his back on her, hoping it would be enough. An unearthly howl filled his mind as the beast shrank back into the depths where it lived, taking the bloodlust that colored his sanity with it.
    He straightened his back, breathing in the sweet smell of control once more. Clarity of