OVER THE NEXT two hours, Niall tried to “speak” to his mate multiple times again and failed, so he finished off almost an entire bottle of whisky and dragged himself to his room, collapsing on the bed. The desired effect hadn’t quite been achieved, his Cauld Ane body able to counteract quite a bit of the alcohol, but he was too tired to be disappointed. He’d almost fallen asleep when her voice broke through his alcohol-induced haze.

Who’s Abbott and whose ear did he have?

Niall sat up, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. No one, love. I’m sorry you heard that.

You looked upset. She sighed. I wish I could’ve heard what the pretty woman was saying.

You couldn’t hear her?

No. I’m not very good at dreaming, am I? I could only hear you. But dreams are weird anyway, right?

Aye. They are. He closed his eyes. What’s your name, lass?

Charlotte.

Charlotte what?

Whitmore.

Niall’s heart raced.

What’s wrong?

Are you Grace’s friend?

You mean, am I still her friend despite the fact she got married without me and then left me all by myself to move away to an exotic country where I will never have the nerve to visit? Then, yes, I suppose I’m her friend.

Niall chuckled. She mentioned you’re afraid to fly.

I bet she did.

Are you asleep?

Of course I am. Charlotte snorted. I’m dreaming, right?

Niall took a minute to think. He didn’t know what gift would allow Charlotte to dream in real time, or give her the ability to see him even though he couldn’t see her, especially as a human. Her gifts wouldn’t manifest until she was bound. He knew that the king’s sister, Fiona, was working with both Icelandic and Scottish historians to sort out much of their “missing” heritage, but he wasn’t sure if she’d gotten a handle on some of the rarer gifts.

Are you still with me?

I am, lass. Sorry.

The strings on one of his guitars shook and discordant notes sounded in the quiet of the room. Niall narrowed his eyes, not entirely certain he was seeing what he was seeing.

Is this a 1957 Les Paul? The strings on the guitar sang out again.

Yes. How did you know?

I know enough to be dangerous, I suppose. How often do you play?

Not as much as I’d like, he admitted. I tend to be behind the kit more.

You’re sponsored by Pearl, right?

I am. Niall grinned. Have you been stalking me, lass?

I plead the Fifth.

The strings on the guitar shook again.

Do you play?

No. Charlotte chuckled. No patience. I can fake a beat and sing marginally well, but that’s about it.

I’d love to hear you.

No, I don’t think you would. She sighed. You know, I think you may have ruined my weekend.

How so?

I’m supposed to have a semi-blind date with a guy I met through a friend, but he pales in comparison to you. Let’s be honest, all men pale in comparison to you. Which begs the question... how am I going to find a man who is both a drummer and has a magnificent Scottish accent?

Niall went cold. Don’t. I will find you.

Oh. Okay, then. You do that. Charlotte giggled. Are you tall as well?

What do you consider tall?

I’d rather not risk offending you. How tall are you? It’s the only thing I haven’t been able to find out on Google.

Six-foot-three.

Oh, so, so perfect. She sighed again. I really should exorcise you and stop allowing you into my dreams.

I’m serious, love. I’ll find you. Give me three days.

That would be Saturday. How about I go on the date and then you and I can hook up when you get here?

You don’t really think I’ll find you, do you?

Charlotte giggled again. No, I really don’t... I mean, I know you probably could, but you’re a busy, famous rock star. I’m a nobody. But even though I know all of this... I’m liking this dream anyway. Maybe I will cancel.

I’m quite serious, love. I’d rather you didn’t go on the date.

Well, I’ll decide when I wake up and join reality again. Charlotte snorted. I really must stop thinking about you. It’s becoming a problem.

Niall smiled. Is it?

I just admitted too much, didn’t I?

Not when you admit you’re in love with me.

Did I do that?

That’s what I heard.

Wow, you’re confident. She sighed.

Without warning, the connection was broken and Niall found himself suddenly sober... and without his cell phone. He had very few phone numbers memorized, and he needed to talk to Grace. Before he could call Kenna for Grace’s number, however, his house phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Ollie. Is your cell not working?”

Oliver Bardsley was Fallen Crown’s bass player and, outside of Payton, Niall’s closest friend.

“That’s one way of describing it.” Niall sighed. “It’s currently smashed in a few pieces on my foyer floor.”

“I won’t ask.”

“Probably wise,” Niall admitted. “What’s up?”

“I have the numbers on the shipment and I’ve filled Dalton in on what we’re doing.”

Dalton Moore was the queen’s human brother, co-head of the human side of the security department that protected the royals, and ex-FBI. He and his partner, Cole Drake, were often sent on assignments that were too dangerous for the Cauld Ane. Niall had contacted them on behalf of one of their human charities housed under Rogue, their parent company.

“Is he able to help?” Niall asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Aye,” Ollie said. “He said Cole’s contact at MI-6, Bronwen Boyer, is well aware of the trafficking issues the U.K.’s dealing with. Especially with the American Super Bowl right around the corner. They’re on high alert. How accurate is the information from Alana, do you think?”

Alana McGuire was a young woman who had managed to escape from a group of traffickers who were promising to send young girls wherever the demand was. Her escape was recent, less than a week ago, and Niall was doing his best to keep her hidden.

“She’s scared to death, Ollie. I think she’s telling the truth. Colleen certainly believes her. Whether or not whoever was holding her was truthful is what we need to determine, but I have another pressing matter that I have to attend to.”

“I can dog this, Nye. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Okay, I’ll coordinate with Cole and Dalton and keep you in the loop.”

Niall nodded. “Thanks. We’ll talk tomorrow, eh?”

“Aye,” Ollie said, and hung up.

Niall sat for a few minutes, processing the information from Oliver, and then dialed Kenna. If anyone had Grace’s phone number it would be her, and he sure as hell wasn’t calling his brother. Grace had been hired as Kenna’s assistant, even though it was more of a ruse to keep her close to Max. What no one really expected was that Grace would be brilliant at the job. Her biggest asset was the ability to handle Max when he was in a “mood,” which happened less and less now that he had bound her.

Phone number acquired, Niall dialed Grace’s number.

She answered after one ring. “Grace speaking.”

“Hi, Grace, it’s Niall.”

“Hi. I understand you’ve had a little mishap with your cell phone,” she droned. “What number are you calling from?”

“Kenna called you, eh?”

“She did,” Grace said.

“I’m calling from my home phone.”

“Did you want to talk to Max?”

“No,” he snapped, a little more than he intended. “Sorry. No, lass, I don’t want to speak with him.”

Grace sighed. “I wish you would. He’s miserable.”

“Good.”

She didn’t respond and Niall squeezed his eyes shut. He adored his sister-in-law. It wasn’t her fault she was mated to a bastard. “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t ring to demonize my brother.”

“Good,” she mimicked. “What can I do for you?” she added with over-politeness. “Outside of a new phone, of course.”

“I need some information on Charlotte, particularly her address.”

“My Charlotte?”

“Aye,” he said.

“Why?”

“She’s my mate,” he said.

“Wha-what? Really?”

“Aye. Will you give me her contact information?” Niall pressed. “Or are you going to make this hard on me?”

“Well, I suppose that depends on how much you tell me.”

He rubbed his forehead. “Seriously, Grace?”

“What? I’m a woman, and even if I’m admittedly a little irritated with you, I want details. You’ve just told me my best friend is your mate. You can’t cut me off now.”

Niall sat down in one of the chairs by the window overlooking the river. “It started when we came to the States to see you. I felt her. Of course, I couldn’t talk to her because she wasn’t twenty-five, but I knew she was at least on the continent.”

“Wow. What does that feel like?”

“It’s an energy more than anything, really. When she reached ár mökunar, I could feel her extreme emotions, but because she couldn’t respond to me when I would attempt to speak to her, I didn’t know who she was.”

“So, what changed?”

“She responded.”

“Shut up,” Grace exclaimed. “Really? How?”

“She dreams and when she does, she pulls me in with her.”

“Wow,” Grace whispered. “That’s unreal.”

“Aye, lass, it’s quite remarkable.” Niall stared out at the water. “So, now will you give me Charlotte’s number?”

“Of course I’ll give you Charlie’s information,” Grace said.

“Great, thank you.”

“After you talk to your brother.”

Niall frowned. “I can’t, Grace. Not yet.”

“He’s beyond sorry, Nye. You must know that. Please don’t keep punishing him. He loves you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “If you’re no’ willing to give me Charlotte’s number, Grace, I’ll have to figure something else out.”

“Please don’t do this, Nye,” Grace begged. “Can we have dinner? I have an appointment with the consulate in two days to sort out my immigration status, and Kade offered up the apartment. I could cook or we could take you out. How does tomorrow look for you?”

Niall rubbed his forehead. “I adore you, Grace, you know that, but I’m not ready to act the loving brother yet. Now, if you’ll no’ give me Charlotte’s information, I’ll find her some other way. I can always call your sister.”

An audible sigh broke through the receiver. “No, don’t bug Maggie. I’ll e-mail it to you. I’m assuming you’d like me to organize the plane?”

“Aren’t you using it to fly here tomorrow?”

Pause.

“Grace? You still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. We’re already in Edinburgh,” she admitted. “We flew in this morning.”

“Is that why Max has been calling every ten minutes?” Niall frowned. “And why Payton came over?”

“Yes and I don’t know. But if I know Payton, she’d want you to forgive Max, too.”

“You don’t know Payton, then.”

“No, perhaps I don’t,” Grace conceded.

Niall sighed. “If you would book the plane, I’d appreciate it... unless you feel it will be a conflict of interest. I can always have Kenna do it.”

“She’s supposed to be taking a break. I’ll do it. It’s my job, anyway.”

“So, Max hasn’t convinced you to quit yet, eh?” he challenged.

“Now you want to talk about Max?” she retorted.

“No, not particularly.

“All or nothing, Niall. Do you want my help or not?”

He sighed. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, then. Where would you like to stay?”

“As close to her as possible.”

“I figured. I’ll book you in at the hotel by her mom’s house.”

“Thank you. I’d like to go tonight, if possible.”

“How unexpected,” Grace quipped. “Go easy with her, Nye.”

“I’d never hurt my mate, Grace.”

Grace chuckled. “I’m not worried about her, bud.”

“If she’s anything like you, I’m prepared to work for her, if that’s what you mean.”

Grace snorted. “Oh, I’m far nicer than she is. At least that’s what she tells everyone. The thing about Charlotte is that she doesn’t use a filter and she doesn’t suffer fools lightly, as they say. She is a bona-fide, card carrying ’Merican.”

“Is that a real thing?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” Grace giggled. “All I’m saying is that you’ll know what she thinks and feels, not because you can read her mind, but because she will tell you. She has never kept her opinion to herself about anything. It’s her best quality. You always know where you stand with her. And she hates pretty boys.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know exactly what that means. She’s going to fight you to the death. Just not sure whose death will come first.” She giggled again. “She’s not a bad drummer, either. You guys are actually perfect for each other. Even if you weren’t destined, I’d probably want to set you up with her.”

“I appreciate that, Grace.”

“I just need you to remember she’s sensitive. Tough outer shell, squishy middle.”

“You make her sound like some kind of chocolate bar,” Niall observed.

“She can be just as sweet, unless you cross her,” Grace said. “Back to Max now.”

“Grace,” he said with a frustrated sigh.

“I get that you’re mad at him and I understand why. I really do. But please don’t let it consume you, okay? Look what the whole thing with your sister did to him. He knows he messed up and he’s sorry. Try to forgive him.”

“I’ll think about it, lass.” Niall rubbed his forehead. “Okay?”

“Ah, sure,” she said, and then chuckled.

“What?” he asked, suddenly a little bit worried.

“Oh, I was just thinking about Charlotte and what she’s going to do to you.”

“Are you thinking in specifics?” he asked.

“Most definitely. But you’re going to have to figure that part out on your own.”

“You have an evil streak, don’t you?”

“Oh, brother of mine, you have no idea. Anyhoo, I’ll e-mail you everything you need to know and order a car.”

“Thank you,” Niall said.

“’Bye.”

Niall hung up and grabbed a suitcase from his closet. Unlike his brother, Niall didn’t have a live-in housekeeper, cook, or driver. He had a woman who came twice a week to clean, but she came and went generally when he wasn’t home. He was a natural homebody and valued his privacy above most things. He didn’t want anyone else in his business, especially in the “business” he was in. If it meant he had to call for a car service or occasionally order food in, it was worth it to him to achieve as much anonymity as possible.

Two hours later, his doorbell pealed and he opened the door to find Max’s driver, Bruce. “Bruce? What are you doing here?”

“Good evening, Mr. MacMillan.” He smiled. “Mrs. MacMillan thought I could be of assistance since I know the area where Miss Whitmore lives.”

“And how does my brother feel about that?”

“He approved it, sir.” Bruce smiled and handed him a phone. “This is from Mrs. MacMillan. It’s programmed with your number so your contacts will still be able to reach you. I also have some things she’d like for you to take to her family. Shall I take your bags? The plane is waiting.”

Niall nodded, still a little unsure about his brother’s motives, and handed his luggage to the driver.