For the better part of two days, I kept a low profile. I didn’t know how to remedy the situation with Maddock, and I was worried that if I was out and about the castle, my sour mood would be visible, and I didn’t want anyone to have to worry about me.

It surprised me then, to hear his voice on the other side of the door two days after our last encounter.

“Kate, lass, I thought ye might like to know that yer mother and David have arrived.”

I opened the door to him and gauged his expression carefully. He looked as friendly as ever.

“Oh, okay. Thanks for letting me know. Should I go down to meet them?”

He shook his head. “I doona think ’twill be necessary. I’m certain yer mother will be headed this way shortly. She is eager to see that ye are well.”

“Oh, okay.” I repeated myself, unsure of what to say to him. Eventually, in a burst of bravery, I said, “I thought you would be mad at me.”

He blinked as his brows furrowed together. “Lass, why would I be angry with ye?”

I shrugged. “Because I told you I didn’t want you.”

He cocked one knowing eyebrow at me, and I felt my cheeks flush red in embarrassment.

“But ye do, lass. And even if ye dinna want me, I still wouldna be angry with ye.”

“If you’re not angry, then what are you?”

He smiled and reached out to gently squeeze my hand. “I’m yer friend, lass.”

I mimicked his expression, raising one suspicious brow of my own. “So, you’re not going to find another reason to kiss me? You’re not going to compliment me or say anything flirty?”

He maintained a stoic expression as he dropped my hand. “No, lass. Three times I opened the door for ye, and three times ye turned me away. Ye are not ready. I canna fault ye for that. But our lives are now intertwined, lass. ’Twould be a shame for either of us to harbor ill will toward the other.”

Nothing about what Maddock was saying felt right, but I could feel no dishonesty in his gaze or tone.

Before I could respond to him, he pointed toward the end of the hallway where I leaned out from my doorway to see my mother barreling toward me.

“Kate! Oh my God, I’m glad to see you. How are you feeling?”

I smiled as her arms came around me but I quickly pinched my nose at the stench of her.

“Much better. How was the rest of the journey?”

“We survived it. That’s all I care to dwell on. Laurel has some large, redheaded man making me a bath so I can wash off all of this mud and dirt, but he pointed me to where I could find you so I ran up here really quickly to check on you and squeeze your neck.”

I nodded and pulled out of her grip. “I’m happy to see you, too. Now go get in that bath. You stink.” I winked at her and continued. “I’ll catch up with you later. I know you must be exhausted.”

“I am, dear.” She turned her head and gave Maddock a curt nod. “Maddock.”

He copied her gesture. “Myla.”

As my mother left us, I noticed a foul stench remained long after she disappeared around the corner, and Maddock’s jaw grew tight as he scrunched up his nose.

“What is that?”

“Machara. Are ye ready to meet her?”

Before arriving at the castle, I’d been anxious to meet her. I wanted to see firsthand what I would be dealing with. I wanted to get a read on her to see how I could defeat her, but now, I was more nervous than I expected to be.

“I suppose now is as good a time as any. Maddock?”

“Aye, lass?”

“I’m frightened.”

He nodded and took off down the hallway, waving his hand so I would follow him. “Ye should be. If Machara dinna frighten ye, I would be afraid of ye.”

---

Nicol had just awakened from his morning slumber when Maddock knocked on his bedchamber door. He opened it, smiled warmly, and stepped aside to let us inside.

It was a breathtaking room. With two walls made of solid glass, it had a modern appearance that, while at odds with the rest of the castle’s gothic décor, somehow blended nicely. It looked out over the castle grounds and an old, wilted garden that I assumed was where Freya appeared at night. I made a mental note to go and meet her that evening.

“I’m afraid she’s discovered that sending her vile smell throughout the castle works. We simply canna ignore it forever, and eventually we go down to see whatever ’tis she feels she must say.”

Maddock nodded and came to stand beside me as I looked out one of the glass windows.

“Aye. Mayhap if she meets our new residents, she will realize that they are no threat and will go back to searching for some way to destroy us.”

Maddock’s comment surprised me. For twenty years, The Eight had held Machara as their prisoner beneath the castle, and they were still not free from her. Laurel had only been here a short period of time, and she’d bested the bitch. Clearly, he knew nothing of what Machara’s father had cast into existence so many years ago—the chink in Machara’s, for lack of a better word, faerie armor that made it possible to defeat her.

“Why do you think I’m no threat to her?”

Both Maddock and Nicol turned to look at me in surprise. Maddock spoke first. “Ye are mortal, lass. Ye have no magic. Ye have no fae blood that we know of. Machara canna be beaten by one like ye. Besides, dinna ye come here to be with yer sister?”

I leaned into the glass wall behind me as I stared at both of them incredulously. They knew nothing. While I knew Laurel had been too busy with her own showdown with the faerie to sit them all down for a nice long chat, I still found it difficult to believe that she’d said nothing to them about what I’d told her. Although, in truth, she knew less about everything than I did.

Still, their attitude toward Machara stunned me. Even the way they spoke about her made her sound less like their prisoner and more like some queen that had to be obeyed. It was as if they were resigned to the belief that Machara was, and always would be, part of their lives at the castle, as if they had no intention of ever trying to be free of her. Was this the way all of the members of The Eight were? Had this been their way of life for so long that they were resigned to it?

Had they truly convinced themselves that they were content to spend their whole lives keeping Machara locked away with the reward for their hard work being that they would never be free?

I stared at them for a long moment as I worked through all of this in my mind. I wasn’t Machara’s caretaker. I wasn’t going to be her friend. While they might both be fine with coming to her every time she chose to use her horrid stench as some sort of call bell, I wouldn’t placate her in such a way.

My earlier fear was gone. So was any desire I had to see her.

“You go and see Machara if you want to. I’ll meet her when I’m ready.”

I turned away and left them without another word as I went in search of the one member of The Eight that was the most likely to still have some hope.