He wanted Carsina to protect Aingeal and me. He knew what we would do. That we would be vulnerable.And he knew that Carsina was unarmed and didn't have any way to fight. He was protecting her, too. I had to get to a safe place so I could sink into the feyhound proxy with Aingeal. We needed the swift movement of the proxy mixed with Aingeal's magical powers.“No, no, no,” Carsina sobbed as I hauled her away. I gripped the diamond hammer in my other hand. It throbbed and pulsed in my hand. I could feel it reacting to the power flowing through the armor. I could feel my family fighting for their lives.“CORRUPT MY DAUGHTER!” my father boomed, his voice ringing like a bell.How was he here so fast? Did that even matter? No.“In here!” Aingeal shouted. Her pink butterfly wings fluttered as she threw open the door to Carsina's workshop. “No, no, we have to save him!” Carsina shouted. “It's eating him!”“We are saving him!” I shouted at her. Did I used to be like her? Panicking during danger? I. This wasn't the kind of view that would be shared by anyone who'd ever tried to employ local people, especially from the London area, who would know one end of an agricultural implement from another; or for that matter who had the technical knowledge and qualifications in biology and genetics to understand what was required in modern agriculture: at least not at the level of wages now standard for agricultural workers in the United Kingdom.And why the Indian subcontinent? Most farmers of Gabrielle's acquaintance resourced from rather less expensive foreign countries such as Morocco, Palestine, Senegal and the CongoOne reason for sure was that Gabrielle's longest-lasting lover, the one who'd most often shared her bed, was a second generation Indian Muslim who still had plenty of contacts in the subcontinent of his grandparents' birth.Although he also had a wife whose upkeep he maintained and who he even occasionally fucked, he wasn't a jealous man. He didn't mind at all that Gabrielle.
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