He stepped close and I remembered his wetsuit shifting, how he’d made the nurses and cops do what he wanted. He had magic, that much was obvious; my gut reaction was that he wasn’t human, he couldn’t be. And if he knew magic, and what I was feeling inside me was answering him, I needed him to help me understand what was going on. At least for now. Time to buckle down and ask the question that had been on the tip of my tongue. “You aren’t Fomorii, I can see that much; so just what are you?”

“I am Tuatha de Daanan, the same as you,” Luke said. “The same as Bres.”

As if he had been called, Bres stepped out from around the cement pillar to my right. “She’s going to be a problem for us, isn’t she?” he asked.

Luke chuckled. “Are you surprised?”

Bres shook his head and again I felt completely out of my depth. I hated not knowing what was going on. And what the hell was a Tuatha de whatever?

The low rumble of a big truck working its way towards us made me look to the road. I looked around for the rig as the ground below me bucked. It wasn’t a truck; it was an earthquake. The world shivered and swayed, the ground shifting like a tilt-a-whirl. I jerked my arms out to the side but still fell, my bitten leg not holding up. Shocked, my eyes widened at an alarming rate when both men leaped towards me, catching me before I could hit the ground. How had they moved so fast?

The quake lasted for only a few seconds and then the world was still once more. Luke’s hands seared my skin; Bres’ hands cooled the fire—and somewhere in the middle I began to melt from the intensity of it all.

“Do you get earthquakes often?” Luke asked me, his face tight with concern. He kept his hands on my waist and Bres stepped away, a glower on his lips.

I shook my head and pulled myself out of his hands. “No. Just recently the Island’s been hit with them.”

The taxi pulled up and I yanked the door open. “Take me to the Wickaninnish Inn,” I instructed the driver, locking the door behind me.

“We will be coming with you, whether you like it or not Quinn. You are our charge,” Luke said through the open window as he tried the front passenger door. It was locked, and I smiled up at him as he frowned down at me.

“I need a few minutes to myself. You can meet me at my hotel,” I said, my voice hard and clipped though I still smiled.

I gave a nod to the cabbie and he pulled away from the curb. In the rear-view mirror stood Luke, his hands on his hips, and Bres, his mouth in a hard line, his jaw tight with anger.