One month prior

Lucia scrunched up her nose in distaste as she took a seat across from Rory Campbell on a creaky chair that could barely hold her weight, let alone that of a grown man. She had been in much worse establishments than this tavern, of course. If anything, she had to admit that this was quite a nice place, save for the old furniture the owners seemed intent on keeping. The air still smelled like ale and wine and it was still loud in the room, dark and damp and crowded, but at least there was a large fireplace to keep the place warm and the patrons didn’t risk being poisoned by the food and drink.

It wasn’t the place Lucia didn’t like, but rather the company. She had never quite liked Rory and his men, thinking of them as fools who could hardly pull off a job, but this opportunity she had for them was simple enough that even they could do it—or at least so he hoped.

The point was, they were cheap. Lucia could hardly afford to eat those days, let alone pay someone to do her dirty work for her, but sometimes certain sacrifices were necessary.

“Miss Donnelly!” Rory all but shouted, but then fell swiftly silent when Lucia grabbed her knife and stabbed it on the table right next to his hand.

“Have ye lost yer mind?” she asked. “Keep yer voice down. An’ dinnae call me that. Ye’re nae funny.”

Looking thoroughly scolded, Rory pulled back a little, the smile dropping from his face. “Ye’re truly becomin’ a nightmare, Lucia. What is the matter with ye? Why dae ye never smile?”

Lucia stared at Rory, unimpressed, and then smiled—or rather bared her teeth at him, like an animal ready to attack. Exasperated, Rory threw his hands in the air and then took a deep breath, leaning closer over the table.

“Alright, alright… what dae ye want, then?” he asked. “Why did ye call us here?”

Lucia looked around to see that some of his men were there too, though they were not all sitting together, but were rather scattered around the room. At least they were smart about some things, she thought, as she returned her attention to Rory.

“I have a job fer ye,” she said as she subtly jingled the pouch of coins that was attached to her belt. “It pays well.”

“How well?”

“Well enough,” said Lucia. “It’s very simple.”

“It’s never simple with ye,” Rory said. “This is why we never work with ye.”

“Is that what it is?” Lucia asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “I could have sworn it was because ye’re all useless.”

Even if she needed Rory and his men, she couldn’t hold her tongue. It was one of those things that got her into trouble more often than not, but if there was one thing she knew about Rory—other than the fact that he was a fool—it was that he didn’t take offence at such things. Just as she had expected, he laughed, his entire body shaking with mirth, his cheeks turning a ruddy color.

Taking a sip from his ale, Rory gestured at the serving wench to bring two more cups to the table. Lucia could appreciate this about Rory, too; if he was drinking, then everyone was drinking—and Rory drank often.

The serving wench was quick to bring them more ale and Lucia grabbed her cup immediately, draining half of it in one big gulp. It helped steel her nerves; it helped calm her and remind her that she had been doing this for a long time. The plan was a little risky, that much was true, and it depended on the behavior of another person, which was unpredictable. But Lucia had no other choice. She needed the help, and there was only one man in that entire tavern who could help her.

It wasn’t Rory. For him, it would be a job, nothing more than that. Lucia rather needed someone who would help her out of the goodness of his heart—someone who may not be quick to trust, but who repaid any debt he owed. Someone with honor.

And that man was sitting a few tables back. Alaric MacGregor, the brother of Laird Evan MacGregor, who often went on dangerous missions as a scout for the clan. If there was one thing known about the MacGregors, it was that they always repaid those who treated them with kindness, and more so than anyone else, it seemed to be true for Alaric. He was the kind of man Lucia needed for this mission; someone who would want to repay her for her help, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to throw himself in the middle of a fight, someone who wasn’t afraid of danger.

“See that laddie over there?” Lucia said, nodding her head subtly backwards. Thankfully, Rory had the common sense to look just as subtly, but then his eyes widened just a little when he looked back at Lucia.

“What about him?”

“I need ye tae kidnap him.”

For a few long moments, silence stretched over their table. Rory didn’t react at all to Lucia’s words and she was under the impression at first that he had not heard her at all, but then he let his head fall in his hands with a groan, looking at her through the gaps in his fingers.

“I feared ye’d say somethin’ like this,” Rory said. “Why? Why would I kidnap someone who looks like that?”

Lucia had to admit it was a fair question. Alaric MacGregor looked about as gentle as a killer or perhaps a bear. With his dark hair and just as dark beard and the tattoos and scars that seemed to cover every inch of his skin, it was difficult to come up with a convincing reason for Rory other than the gold she was willing to give him.

“Because ye’ll be paid fer it,” she reminded him. “That is all ye need tae ken. I only need ye tae capture him an’ make it seem realistic. Dinnae hurt him too much, though. I need him in one piece.”

With a sigh, Rory shook his head, for a moment contemplating the bottom of his already empty cup. “What if he harms me men?”

“A very probable outcome,” Lucia admitted with a small shrug. “But if ye feared danger or yer men bein’ harmed, then ye shouldnae be in this line o’ work at all.”

“Listen, Lucia, I ken how tae pick me victims,” Rory said in a whisper as he leaned even closer, so that only she could hear him. “I ken who tae capture an’ who tae rob. That man over there? He doesnae look like someone I wish tae capture or rob.”

Lucia couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Rory. For someone who made a living hurting people, he certainly appeared very resistant to the idea now.

“I dinnae have tae convince ye,” Lucia said. “There are others who can dae it fer me.”

It was only half the truth. Certainly, there were others, but whether or not Lucia had the coin for them was debatable. Besides, she needed to move fast. For all she knew, Alaric would be heading out on a mission soon and she wanted everything to be ready for her to strike. She couldn’t waste precious time trying to find another group of brigands.

Rory hesitated, especially when Lucia jingled the bag of coin once more. She always knew how to hook him—Rory wanted the gold and there were few things he wouldn’t do for it. He simply showed some resistance for the sake of it, Lucia thought sometimes. He couldn’t help but be theatrical.

Theatrical was good. She needed someone who could play his role well.

“How much?” Rory asked.

“As I said, more than enough,” Lucia said. “Half now an’ half when ye finish the job.”

“How many men will I need?”

“Many.”

Though Alaric was not particularly known to be vicious, he was known to be capable. Once he was attacked by brigands, there was no telling how many of them he could neutralize on his own. Lucia wanted Rory to be prepared. After all, if he wasn’t, there was a chance Alaric would escape and flee before Lucia could use him.

“An’ then? What happens once we capture him?”

“Well…” Lucia said, leaning in close too, so that their noses were almost touching. “Then I come in an’ save him.”

Rory laughed, once again so amused by her response that his entire body shook. When he saw that Lucia was entirely serious, though, his laughter died and he looked at her as though she had suddenly sprung a second head.

“Why?” he asked. “How does that make any sense?”

“That doesnae concern ye,” Lucia said. “But I need him tae think he owes me a favor. Dae ye understand? All ye have tae dae is capture him an’ then let me free him.”

As she spoke, Lucia untied the pouch of gold from her belt and tossed it to Rory, who peeked inside at its contents. Though he didn’t respond immediately, Lucia knew him well. He couldn’t say no.

“Alright,” he said with a nod. “Alright… we shall help ye with yer mad plan.”

Clapping a hand over Rory’s shoulder, Lucia said, “If it wasnae mad, it wouldnae work.”

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