His face darkened, and she wondered what she’d said wrong. There’d been a time when she could speak German. If anyone had asked her, she’d have told them she learned it in school.
When the silence started to feel uncomfortable, he said, “Let’s just say I was born in the Old Country.” He met her gaze, but his eyes were hooded, as if he didn’t want her to probe. “I’ve been in the States for a very long time, though. My home is here.”
That’s an odd answer. And not quite what I asked about. “If things are going to work between us,” she said, keeping her voice very quiet, “there has to be absolute truth. I can’t stand by your side in battle, wondering what you’re not telling me.” She took a breath and went on, finally recognizing what was bothering her. “Because that’s it, Fionn. It’s not that what you said wasn’t true. It’s that you left a whole bunch of things out.”
“Did I now?”
Her neck stiffened at the mocking challenge in his voice. “Och aye, and ye did,” she muttered. “Two can play that game. Now talk.”
“I will. But not outside the wards. Are you ready to go in?”
She started pulling on her clothes. “Yes,” she managed through gritted teeth. What was it with this man? He could make her so hot her body was awash in lust so intense that it obliterated everything, and so angry she wanted to choke him. He was the only man she hadn’t been able to walk away from. Maybe I can. I haven’t tried.
Who am I kidding?
Well, I haven’t tried—not really. Let’s see what he has to say for himself. Then I’ll decide.
Chapter Thirteen
Fionn tried to make small talk once they were back underground, but Aislinn wasn’t having any of it. The animals retreated to a far corner after she raised her voice the first time. “Talk,” she shouted, pounding a fist into her other hand for emphasis. “Tell me who you are and where you came from.” She made an effort to gentle her voice. Christ, she sounded like a fishwife. “If I’m going to link my life to yours, I have a right to know.”
That must have gotten through, because he said, “Yes, you do. I’m sorry. I’ve been hiding who and what I am from everyone for so long, it’s not easy to stop dissembling.”
Her Seeker senses, attuned to truth, corroborated his statement. At least it was a start. Aislinn pursed her lips. “Did your wife know?”
He shook his head and gave her a lopsided smile. “At least, not the most current one, nor the several who came before her.”
She took a step away from him. “You’re not really Fionn MacCumhaill. You couldn’t be.” Breath clogged in her throat as she waited for his answer. Her heart thudded against her ribcage.
“Yes, I did give you my name.” He spoke as if to himself. “Maybe I made a mistake, but I was wild with fear for what would happen once you delivered yourself to the Old Ones like a trounced pig.”
“You gave me a name,” she clarified, still keeping her distance. “But there’s no way you could possibly be the Fionn MacCumhaill.”
“And why not?”
“Because you’d have to be hundreds of years old. Maybe as much as a thousand,” she sputtered. “He was a Celtic god.”
“Do you remember which one?”
Irritation stung her. “What is this? Twenty Questions?”
“Well, do you?” His voice, the American one, was so soft that she had to strain to hear.
“Of course I do. He ruled, ah, wisdom. And overcoming enemies.” She racked her brain, culling her mother’s fairy stories from wherever they lived when she wasn’t thinking about them. “Creation, protection, knowledge, divination.” She put her hands on her hips, feeling pleased with herself. “I think that about covers it.”
“Aye, lass, that it does.” The Irish lilt was back. He smiled at her. Or he showed her his teeth. It didn’t feel much like a smile. Now that she was looking at him, really looking, something ancient and brimming with knowledge lurked behind his blue eyes.
I’m imagining things. It isn’t possible.
“Of course it is.”
“Damn it.” She was so frustrated, she punched him. He didn’t make so much as a whuff, but her knuckles stung. “Stay out of my head.”
“As you wish.” He inclined his head.
She brought her fisted hand to her mouth, sucking at the sore parts. “No, it’s not. You can’t be hundreds—maybe thousands—of years old.”
“The others, they told me I’d die if I left the Old Country. They thought the magic wouldn’t stretch so far. But it did—and I didn’t.”