Chapter 48
Cian hesitated in front of a small stone house, one chilled hand touching a rough wooden door. No lights showed through the windows, same as all the other houses close by. She smelled wood smoke, but the cloudy night sky was too dark to see where it came from.
In this tiny village in the heart of the Lake District, it would be best to avoid a lot of noise at two in the morning.
Even if she knew one of her closest friends and allies—the closest aside from Faolin—waited inside.
The door opened just a c***k in response to Cian’s quiet knocking.
“Who’s there?”
She couldn’t see who was speaking so sharply in the dark room, and he hadn’t said enough for her to recognize his voice.
“Mr. Case? This is Mrs. Oliver,” Cian said, names they had last used a hundred years before. “Plea
