Chapter 12

Inside the great room of her sisters' home, Kaida slumped in her chair, exhausted. As in, her bones were melting and her muscles cried uncle.

What a night. Her clothes were still damp from the meeting in the clearing because she'd conjured rain and the man she'd met in dreams sat on the plush brown leather sofa to her left, rubbing the mark on his wrist with a tissue for all he was worth.

Utter insanity.

Lord. She'd fainted. Actually fainted like a southern belle. If she weren't on the brink of a coma, she'd be embarrassed for the night's events.

Tristan paced the far side of the room in front of the stained-glass window, his shoes silent on the hardwood floor. Riley stood beside the ginormous fireplace big enough for three men his size to fit inside, his hand braced on the carved mantle teeming with lit candles. Her sisters sat side-by-side on the matching sofa across from Brady, a black walnut table between him and them. An ornate decorative rug matching the burgundy walls lay underneath, well-worn but cared for. Colored glass bottles and spheres held by black iron stands littered the end tables, shelves, and book cases.

Despite the warmth of the room and comfy decor, tension crackled in the terse silence, thick enough to choke a giraffe. They'd made the trek back to the Victorian as a group, and hadn't spoken since. The Meaths, reluctant to come, looked one parlor trick away from bolting, and her sisters seemed torn between letting them or considering restraints.

After being in the meadow by the cliffs she'd often dreamed about and everything her sisters had told her, Kaida shouldn't be surprised Brady was an actual person. But having him in front of her, seeing him the first time while awake, had been like a lightning bolt to the chest. Throw in the fact he was a Meath, and she was tempted to do a little red wine therapy. A good Chateau Pontet-Canet Bordeaux sounded perfect.

They were a great-looking group of men, though. She'd learned yesterday from her sisters they were triplets. All three had black hair in varying shades with similar cuts. Green eyes, too, but as was the case with her and her sisters, the tones were unique to each one. They shared similar body types as well. Tall and lean, wide shoulders and narrow waists. Yet their facial shapes, aside from square jaws, were nothing alike. Family resemblance, but obviously fraternal.

She couldn't stop staring at Brady's profile. Surreal. She knew his features intimately, yet being here was like encountering him for the first time. A quiver in her belly and a thrum of excitement warred with a strange sense of calm inside her body.

Riley glanced at Brady and frowned. "Would you quit that?"

A heavy sigh, and Brady tossed the tissue he'd been using onto the table. "Easy for you to say. You don't have a mysterious tattoo. I wasn't drunk and sowing wild oats. I was in the woods, sans a dirty parlor and an inked dude in a wife-beater holding me down." He glared at the mark on his wrist, now reddened from his vigorous ministrations. "It won't come off."

One just like it had formed on her inner wrist, too. Burned was more like it. A trinity knot, of all things, and originating out of nowhere. At least it didn't hurt anymore.

Riley crossed the room and took a seat by his brother. "All your research books and studying didn't say anything about this?"

"No." Brady swiped at a smudge of dried blood on his knuckles. He frowned as if surprised it was there.

That was the other thing adding to the night's craziness. Details were a little hazy, but she clearly remembered Fiona putting up a block and Brady going batshit trying to get through to Kaida. She'd never seen him act that way before. Anyone for that matter, especially when it came to her. No one had ever shown that kind of fierce protection on her behalf.

Riley shoulder-bumped him. "Some historian you are."

Kaida whipped her gaze to Brady's. "You're a historian?" At his nod, she offered up a bit of herself since he seemed unnerved. "Me, too. Well, I teach the origins and practices of certain religions at a college in Iowa."

"Huh, a professor." Riley's brows rose. "Peas in a pod, aren't you? God save us, there's two geeks on the island. He bores the crap out of us with random facts all the time. And if he makes me watch a documentary on the History Channel again, just shoot me. You should see him with his nerd glasses."

A hum in her throat, she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her calves. "I've seen him in glasses. He looks very intellectual wearing them." It took her a beat to realize four sets of questioning glances and Brady's smiling pair were aimed at her. She fidgeted. "He fell asleep reading once and still had them on."

Riley barked a laugh. "Is that how the dreaming thing works? He ever fall asleep naked?"

Grinning, she glanced at Brady. "No, but there was a case of an unusual pair of boxers."

Affection in his gaze, Brady shook his head. "I can't believe you're here."

"So," Riley leaned back, "what went down in these dreams? Sordid things? Do tell. He never shares."

"Nothing sordid." Though there had been quite a bit of kissing, caressing. Strange how she couldn't remember much about that part. Almost like it was hidden behind a fog. "We talked a lot."

"Talked," Riley said, deadpan. "You got no game, brother."

Ceara leaned forward. "If you've encountered one another in dreams this long, and all you did was talk, you don't seem to know much about each other."

"We weren't allowed." Brady scratched the dark stubble on his jaw. "From the start, if we said any defining facts like names or locations, we were immediately yanked from the dream." His mossy green eyes held Kaida's, lost and found in the same beat. "I know she likes blueberries in her oatmeal and hates the sound of car horns, but I had no clue where she lived, worked, or came from."

"That was probably to keep her from finding you before it was time." Mara strolled into the room carrying a tea tray with fixings and a small red bag. She set the items on the coffee table and handed a steaming cup to Fiona and Ceara. "Black tea with a little hazel for communication." Passing one to Kaida, Mara winked. "Green tea with ginseng root for energy. Wore yourself out, you did." She strolled across the room to Tristan, who eyed the mug she held without accepting it.

"What is it?"

"Green tea with jasper for stress relief." When he merely stared, she insisted. "Go on. You're wound tighter than a German clock."

Riley snorted. "Tea's not going to cure that."

Tristan frowned, but took the mug, sniffing it. "Is this a...potion or something?"

Mara tilted her head back and laughed, her white strands flowing. "No, dear boy. It's just tea. If you drink it, I'll getcha something stronger afterward." She moved onto Riley next. "Chamomile so you can sleep better tonight." Before he could retort or ask how she knew whether he'd slept, she offered the last cup to Brady. "Black tea with basil for healing."

Brady accepted the mug and took a sip, no questions asked. "Thanks."

Once he took another, his brothers did the same.

Tristan's brows lifted. "It's not bad. Not much of a tea fan, but it's tolerable."

Mara, seemingly unoffended, perched on the edge of the table in front of Brady. "Let me get a look at those cuts, then we'll see what's what about the rest. Ceara, start a fire, would you? All of you will catch your death sitting around in damp clothes."

Ceara flicked her wrist, and flames roared in the hearth behind her.

Riley leapt off the cushion. "Son of a bitch."

"Oh, relax." Fiona rolled her eyes.

"Relax? Hilarious, Fi." Tentatively, he sat down, eyes trained to the fireplace. "It's one thing to suspect witchcraft, but another to witness proof."

Kaida was still getting used to all of this, too, and understood the guys' hesitation. Though Riley and Brady appeared more shocked than anything else, Tristan seemed scared and was covering it with irritation. Stiff, he glared at her sisters.

Weary and wanting bed, she took a sip of her tea. The bitterness of the ginseng hit her tongue, followed by an earthy-sweetness similar to carrots. It wasn't coffee, but she could deal. "Tristan, why don't you take a load off? Just watching you is draining my last reserve." The poor man.

"I'm good here, thanks."

"Please?" Ceara glanced at him, composed and illustrating none of the tension he emanated. "We have matters to discuss."

His hard gaze softened the longer he stared at her, and Kaida had to wonder what it was about her sister that deflated the unforgiving nature in him. Twice now she'd seen it happen. Nothing obvious unless one was really looking, but there nonetheless.

Finally, he let out a quiet breath and made his way over, claiming the spot next to Riley. Downing the tea, Tristan set his cup on the tray, saying nothing.

Meanwhile, Mara cleaned Brady's scraped knuckles with items from her red bag like World War III wasn't brewing in her house.

"What is that?" Brady eyed the salve she applied.

"Cayenne, an herbal blend. It'll help your cuts heal quickly." Mara patted his forearm with a smile. "Fiona's good at tonics and potions."

"Well, good thing." He whipped Fiona a steely glare. "Since it's her fault I got scraped up in the first place."

Mara narrowed her eyes on the woman in question.

"What?" Fiona shrugged in bored nonchalance. "He was charging at Kaida like a rabid bull. I was only protecting her."

"She didn't need protection from me!"

"Now, now." Mara patted his arm again. "Do I need to add jasper to your tea, too, or are you going to settle down?"

"Yeah. See, this is not helping us want to climb aboard your crazy train." Riley set his cup aside. "My brother acting all growly bear? This isn't Brady. What is going on?"