Page 39 of Arran's Obsession

Then he looked at me. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Two hours or under,” I remarked.

He strode away, not smiling at my quip.

I watched him go then turned to his friend. “Did he tell you not to trust me?”

She had no reason to answer, but her face lit. “Something like that. Don’t leave her alone,” she put on a deeper voice and an English accent, then linked her arm through mine and directed me up the stairs.

“Arran’s keeping me prisoner here,” I blurted.

“Ooh, what did ye do?”

“Nothing!”

“Feels unlikely, but go with that if it’s working for ye. Or maybe it’s him. All the men around here are a bit cray-cray. Jamieson chases Summer through the woods sometimes.”

“That’s awful.” I kept pace with her on the stairs.

“Uh, no. It’s a mutual thing. Not every couple is polite conversation and a sensible car. In case it needs stating, don’t try to make a run for it. I might be small but I can crack a skull without breaking a nail.” She waggled her head. “We have sensors and cameras around the grounds, too. You won’t get far. Now come meet everyone.”

Getting her alongside as an ally was a losing battle. This woman was as nuts as Arran. “How many of you live here?”

We reached the upstairs landing. Family pictures lined the walls, the frames not matching and the spacing unequal, but it added to the effect of the place being a home and not a museum.

Cassie drew my attention to a huge picture with a group of people in it. Rapid-fire, she pointed at faces and gave a name to each. “A whole load, but half of us aren’t here. This is my oldest brother, Struan, and his wife, Thea, with their two kids. Thea’s a social worker. She got pregnant while doing her degree, so Struan did a lot of the childcare, mostly which involved being outdoors. Their son, Wulf, is just like him. A wild boy. They have a daughter, too, named Selene. That’s her at the front. She’s a perfect angel. Next to them are Sin and Lottie. I call them my parents, though Sin’s also my brother. All four of the men are.”

A surprised laugh flew from my lips. “I have one brother. He’s a pain in the ass. I can’t imagine having four.”

Cassie blew out a breath. “Ye get me then. The overprotective gene is no joke. Now, Lottie’s birthed four babies, so far. I don’t think she’s done. Conall is the oldest of all the tribe. He’s ten and ridiculously tall for his age. Then there’s Llyr and Daphne, their girls, and Magnus was last. Lottie took a baby break to study for a couple of years, but she’s just finished, and I bet there will be a new bairn soon.”

My mind spun with all the names.

My tiny replacement captor wasn’t done. “Everyone I’ve mentioned so far is away. Struan’s mother got married this summer, and we all went to the wedding, then half of us stayed on and half returned. I jumped in my car the minute I heard Arran was here.” She made jazz hands. “No kids, much more agile.”

The rest she named quickly. The other two brothers were Camden and Jamieson. Camden’s wife was Breeze, and they had a girl called Wren and a younger boy called Raven. Jamieson’s wife was Summer, and they had Ember, Blaze, and Seraphina.

At the last grouping, Cassie grinned. “The youngest of my brothers has a not-so minor obsession with fire, hence the names of his children. He burned half of this place down, once.”

“He did what?”

“Oh, it was needed. Our father, who luckily for everyone is dead now, did terrible things in this house. Fire is cleansing, no?”

She continued along the brightly lit hall, the sounds of family life filtering from further down the corridor. Overwhelmed, I followed more slowly and trailed my gaze over the rest of the pictures. Arran was in one, a much younger version with his arm slung around one of Cassie’s brothers. His hair was shorter, almost military-level neat. He had it longer now, the strands in his eyes when he wore his mask.

The photograph below his caught my attention.

A toddler posed in rainbow dungarees, with scruffy fair hair and the biggest smile stretching chubby cheeks.

“Who’s this?” I asked.

The answer was at the edge of my mind, but I couldn’t quite reach it. I recognised the youngster, but from where?

Cassie trotted back. “Interesting that you picked that. That’s someone Arran’s trying to find. I’ve always called him the lost boy, though we don’t actually know if it’s a boy or a girl, and it’s the only picture he’s ever seen. He’s been hunting for that child for ten years, hence the duplicate picture in his office that he shows everyone. Arran’s mother…” She stopped her mouth. “I need to shut the hell up. Arran can tell you his story himself.”

“How does he know the missing child?” I asked.

She wrinkled her nose, clearly not about to talk. “Ask him.”