Redemption (Book Two of the Shipwrecked Series) by Jenna Stone Page B

Quinn
nodded.  “Uzumati for Adahy,” he said calmly as he raised the heart again and
gestured that he intended to give the heart to Adahy.
    The man nodded in
apparent understanding and turned to chatter enthusiastically with his
comrades.  They appeared to be impressed by Quinn’s kill. 
    Quinn smirked and
then quickly moved to erase the emotion from his face.  A good kill was a good
kill no matter where a man came from in the world.
    Still holding
their weapons for good measure, the men motioned for Quinn to follow them into
the village.
    Quinn took a deep
breath to calm his nerves and strode after them.
    Lord help me,
Mairi.  Watch over me and help me tae be strong enough tae pull this off.
     
    ..ooOoo..
     
    The small hairs on
the back of Quinn’s neck stood at attention as he was prompted to sit onto the
ground next to the fire.  The fire was centrally located in the village and was
surrounded by the conical dwellings of the savages.
    Night would soon
be upon the village.  The fire felt too hot as it warmed Quinn’s adrenaline
flooded body.  Feelings of nausea began to overtake him and he fought to slow
the beating of his erratic heart.  He cleared his throat and exhaled slowly,
working hard to look confident and in control.
    “Adahy,” he
demanded, voice firm as he glowered at his three companions who sat across the
fire staring at him.
    The men nodded in
understanding.  The tallest of the three left the fire, presumably to go find
Adahy.  The other two men’s eyes never left Quinn.  He felt their eyes upon
him, searing his flesh as they studied him openly.
    Quinn hoped that he
would be able to retain his composure and not kill the bastard Adahy when he
finally laid eyes on him.  Negotiating with him would be a struggle.
    Two older men made
their way towards the fire and sat across from Quinn.  They did not greet him,
but remained stone-faced, regarding him openly in the fire-light.  One man’s
hair was completely white and was cropped closely on the top of his head.  The
back of his hair fell in long stringy clumps mid-way down his back.  The second
man’s hair was adorned with braids and feathers, all of which were braided into
a thick tail that hung down his back.
    The men held and
air of importance.  Quinn wondered if they were the chiefs that Sarah had
spoken of.
    A young boy,
shirtless in the chilly autumn air, settled down next to the older men.  His
eyes flashed to the white-haired man and they exchanged hushed words quickly.
    “Welcome,” the boy
said, startling Quinn with his unexpected use of English.
    “Thank-ye,” Quinn
responded.  The opportunity to communicate through a translator had not been
something that he expected.
    “I need tae speak
with Adahy.”
    The old men and
the boy nodded but did not respond otherwise.
    Quinn refused to
back down on his request and he scanned their faces with his intense gray
eyes.  Maybe the boy did not speak English after all.
    Show no fear.
    A young man and
woman approached the fire and sat down, joining the growing circle.
    Quinn knew
immediately that the man was Adahy.  He forced himself to remain expressionless
and he hid his hatred for the man that had hurt Sarah so brutally.  This was
the man that had raped his beautiful Sarah.  This was the man that Quinn wanted
to kill with his bare hands.  Quinn’s muscled tensed involuntarily.  He worked
hard to restrain himself, clenching his jaw in reaction to the man who now sat
across the fire from him.
    Adahy was short of
stature yet sinewy and muscular.  His long black hair was unbound and adorned
with a single braid that framed his angular jaw.  One eagle feather was tucked
into the braid and fluttered now, lifted by the autumn breeze.  Adahy was
stone-faced and regarded Quinn quizzically.  He gave no indication of surprise
about his visitor.
    Quinn wondered if
Adahy had been expecting him.
    The woman that
accompanied Adahy was slight and petite.  She had an overall