by Donna Grant
The first brush of the mist touched the tip of her shoes. A feeling of defeat and despair consumed her. It swept over her, swallowed her.
Drowned her.
Aisley closed her eyes and waited for the mist. There was no use running, no point in trying to get away. She was a useless, pointless Druid. She deserved the agony about to befall her.
Phelan’s blue-gray eyes filled with desire flashed in her mind.
She grasped his image and held onto it. The more she concentrated on him, the more she was able to throw off the feelings crushing her.
“No,” she whispered as she jumped to her feet and ran out of the house.
She raced into the forest with no clear thought to where she was going—only that she had to get away. Aisley ran until she couldn’t breathe, and then she ran some more.
A rabbit darted in front of her. She smothered a gasp and leaped over it, only to land awkwardly on her ankle. It brought her to a halt as she collapsed on the ground.
Aisley looked over her shoulder thinking Jason or the monsters would appear at any moment. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, and nothing came for her.
A red squirrel sat on a limb in a nearby hawthorn tree eating a nut and watching her. Blackbirds and finches flew around as if she didn’t exist. The sway of the limbs in the breeze lulled her.
The forest was a comfort she had never known before. She assumed it was being with Phelan, and he did have something to do with it.
Now that she was by herself however, she could feel it. The forest was alive with life. And magic.
Aisley scooted toward a fallen tree and straddled it so that she leaned back against the trunk of another tree. The rough bark of the pine scraped her palms. At her feet were clusters of ferns, a bright green against the brown of the earth and pine needles.
How had she never ventured into a forest alone before? How had she never felt the pull?
She closed her eyes and simply existed. It wasn’t long before she heard a flutter of wings near her. They were too slow for a bird. A butterfly perhaps?
A sound to her left drew her attention. She listened to the scrape of claws on a tree and recognized it was a pine marten. Rabbits called out behind her. Two squirrels chased each other from tree to tree.
Aisley froze as she heard the distant sound of drums. The beat was slow, rhythmic. She focused on it, trying to determine where it was coming from. It didn’t frighten her, because somehow she knew it came from magic.
Her heart began to beat in time with the drums. Aisley had no idea how long she drifted in a strange space of time with the drums. All she knew was that it felt right, as if she should have heard them years ago.
The drums grew louder, and suddenly chanting began. She instantly retreated, but they wouldn’t let her loose. The thousands of voices chanting in words she couldn’t make out urged her to them, beckoned her.
She knew no fear. Only … a strange sense of peace and rightness. She drifted toward the chanting, though she knew it wasn’t really her body. It was more like her conscience, or her soul.
“Aisley,” the thousand voices said in unison.
“Who are you?”
“He’s coming for you. He’s growing stronger.”
“Jason,” she said.
“Yesssss.”
“Can I escape him?”
“Only with the one you trust.”
Aisley knew they referred to Phelan. He was the only one she trusted. “Phelan won’t help me when he learns I’m a drough.”
“Betrayal.”
“Are you telling me I’ll betray someone?”
“Betrayal and death.”
She tried to remain calm. “Is there a way I can kill Jason so that he never returns to the land of the living?”
“You have a choice coming. A choice, Aisley.”
“What choice? Please. Help me with Jason. Let me do this to make up for my bad choices.”
Even as she asked the question the chanting and drums began to grow faint. She tried to follow them, but they were gone as suddenly as they had come.
Aisley opened her eyes and sighed. She wasn’t sure who the voices were, but the magic that had surrounded her didn’t feel evil. If felt pure.
She frowned as her thoughts turned to what their voices had told her. Jason was coming for her. Betrayal and death awaited her. And the only one who could help her escape Jason was Phelan.
It was the choice they spoke of that kept running through her mind. Were the voices telling Phelan she was drough? Or was it something else?
“Bugger. I hate cryptic messages,” she whispered.
Aisley looked down at her watch to see it was nearing four in the afternoon. She couldn’t believe she’d been gone almost eight hours. It was time to get back.
She gingerly stood on her injured ankle. There was only a twinge of pain that dissipated after a minute. With her shoulders squared, she turned in the direction she had come and started back.
Amazingly enough, she managed to reach Phelan’s cabin in an hour without any mishap. Which was a first for her since she had ran blindly into the forest.
She also thought she ran much farther. There was definitely something going on, she just wasn’t sure what.
When she reached the cabin, she paused before she stepped onto the porch. The door still stood wide open from when she’d flung it on her way out.
Aisley swallowed past the lump in her throat and walked into the house. Room by room she searched and found nothing. She ended up in the bedroom where the mist had come.
There, on the mirror hanging on the wall, written in what looked like a mix of blood and dirt was her name.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Despite his dismal day of searching for clues to Wallace’s whereabouts, Phelan was anxious to get home. He’d been away from Aisley all day. Normally that would have suited him just fine, but that wasn’t the case anymore.
He found he needed to know she was close, yearned to have her beside him. It wasn’t just that he wanted her in his bed. He simply wanted … her.
All of her. From her laughter to the way she left clothes all over the room. From the feel of her soft midnight hair running through his fingers to tripping over her shoes. From her amazing body to her awful cooking skills.
There wasn’t a part of her Phelan didn’t like, or a part of her he didn’t want to know better.
He pulled the bike into the shed, and found himself hurrying to the house. A wave of her magic washed over him like a warm, comforting blanket.
Phelan saw her on the porch leaning against the wooden pillar next to the steps. He stopped with one foot placed on the porch and wondered at the peculiar look she gave him.
“What is it?”
She shrugged. Aisley wasn’t exactly smiling, but she wasn’t frowning either.
Phelan thought back over the day and realized what he had done. “I should’ve told you I was leaving.”
Aisley gave a nod. “That would’ve been the courteous thing to do.”
“I’ve never had to answer to anyone before.”
“You don’t have to answer to me.”
“I didna think.” That bothered him. He should have thought of her. He’d been too upset over Fallon’s call, but that didn’t mean he should have forgotten Aisley.
“How did your patrol go?”
There was no anger in her fawn-colored eyes. Phelan wrapped a strand of black hair around his finger and marveled at the silky feel of it. “Unproductive. How was your day?”
“I took a walk in the woods.”
He opened his mouth to tell her that might not have been a good idea, when she continued talking.
“And before you tell me it might not be safe, let me remind you I’m a Druid.”
Phelan flattened his lips. “There are creatures out there your magic will draw. They’re called selmyr.”
“Selmyr.”
“Aye. Ancient creatures that have been locke
d away but were accidentally released.”
“By?” she asked.
Phelan tugged her into the cabin behind him. He shut the door when she faced him. “By Arran and Ronnie. It was an archeological dig site. The selmyr feed off magic.”
“Just magic?”
“Aye, but they’ll kill anything. I fought them recently. The more magic a Druid used, the more frenzied they became.”
Aisley walked to the couch and sank down on it. “Where are these selmyr now?”
“I doona know. They travel on the wind and look like man-sized tornadoes of dust before they appear. They move with lightning speed. And no amount of magic can kill them.”
“Do you know anything about how they were originally captured?”
“It was Druids from the Isle of Skye who managed it the first time, but I know nothing more than that.”
Her gaze looked away as she bit her lip.
“Aisley? Do you know any Druids from the isle?”
She gave a small nod. Slowly, she returned her gaze to him, her pallor now a shade of green. “Me.”
Phelan stood in stunned silence. “You?”
“Me,” she repeated. “My family dates back six generations from Skye. My great-grandparents moved to Glasgow for a job after they were newly married. I’ve never been to Skye.”
“Have you heard of the selmyr?” he asked as he sat beside her, his body angled to better see her.
“When I was a small girl, my grandfather used to tell me stories of a creature that could travel on the wind. He said it would come and get me if I wasn’t a good lass.”
Phelan rubbed his jaw. “Did he describe them?”
“He said they were vampires, except they were ash-colored and hideous to look at.”
“That’s the selmyr. Is your grandfather still around?”
She shook her head. “He died many years ago.”
Phelan got to his feet and began to pace. “These selmyr are a force we Warriors were barely able to contain. It was only with…” He trailed off, wondering how much to tell her.
The Dragon Kings stayed hidden throughout history because no one knew who they were. They showed themselves to the Warriors and Druids of MacLeod Castle because of Charon.
Phelan couldn’t tell Aisley about the Kings no matter how much he wanted to. Not without the Kings giving their approval.
“It’s all right,” Aisley said. “You don’t have to tell me more.”
“We had help. I can tell you that much.”
Aisley put her hand on her stomach. She was getting nauseated the longer she sat there listening to Phelan talk of the selmyr and the last battle.
She had been at the last battle. She now knew the name of the gray-skinned creatures who had killed Dale and nearly gotten to her. Selmyr.
They were the monsters of nightmares. They fed by biting with their long fangs and drinking their victim’s blood. No wonder her grandfather called them vampires.
But she wanted to know who had helped the Warriors. If there was something as powerful as the Warriors out there, then Jason’s chances of winning were dimming considerably.
“We need to go to the Isle of Skye.”
Aisley jerked at Phelan’s suggestion. “No.”
“You have no’ seen the selmyr. I have. I’ve battled them, been bitten by them. They may take just blood, but a Warrior’s power is in that blood. We’re weakened with each bite.”
She thought of Jason, the mist that had formed in the bedroom earlier that morning, her name written on the mirror, and the voices from the forest.
Was this the choice the voices told her she had to make?
“There are so few Druids nowadays,” Phelan continued. “Many doona even know they have magic. I doona know if we’d ever find another Druid with a connection to Skye.”
Aisley swallowed and knew she couldn’t tell him no. The selmyr attacked indiscriminately. They didn’t care who was drough and who was mie.
Maybe going to Skye, the place of her ancestors, would help her find something in her magic to stop Jason. She was sure he was dead, but he wouldn’t remain that way.
“All right.”
He smiled and pulled out his mobile phone.
Aisley put her hand over it to stop him from calling anyone. “We do this alone.”
“It’s going to take more than just the two of us.”
“I know. But let’s do our searching together.”
He stared at her for several tense moments before he said, “If that’s what you want. My friends willna hurt you.”
How could she tell him that his friends would know what she was? How could she tell him that when his friends arrived, whatever was between them would end?
Aisley stood. “We can leave tonight and reach Skye in a few hours.”
He grabbed her hand as she started to walk away. Aisley looked back at him to find him frowning. “You want to leave?”
“No.” Never. “But you’re right. We need to find out how the selmyr were contained before they attack again.”
“They’ve no’ attacked in three months.”
“That you know of,” she said.
Phelan stood and blew out a harsh breath. “I wasna ready to leave yet.”
“The selmyr could track me here and attack when you’re out hunting for Jason Wallace. If I can’t use my magic to defend myself, what am I to do? We don’t have a choice but to get these monsters put in the darkest hole that can never be found.”
“I like your thinking, beauty,” he said and kissed her.
Aisley leaned into him, loving the feel of his heat and hardness. She wanted to tear his shirt off and feel his skin beneath her hands, but it would have to wait.
She might not be able to reverse the fact she was a drough, but she could help Phelan with the selmyr. It seemed fate had given her a prime opportunity.
Or hated her enough to put her in a no-win situation.
But she had been in that no-win situation from the moment Phelan kissed her that first night.
In less than twenty minutes, she stood on the porch looking out over the loch with her duffle in her hand. For the briefest of moments she thought she had found a place where she could live out her last few days in relative peace and happiness.
The fact she was leaving the tranquility of the forest and the cabin she’d come to consider home made her blood turn to ice. For she knew in her gut that she would never return.
“We’ll be back,” Phelan said as he came to stand beside her. “As soon as we can.”
She didn’t bother to respond as he took her duffle and strapped it onto the back of the Ducati with the small bag he carried.
Aisley put on the helmet and climbed behind Phelan on the bike. She looked at the cabin surrounded by a rainbow of flowers. Jason tried to ruin it by showing up, but Aisley had erased any evidence of her name written on the mirror.
For a second, she thought she heard drums, but before she could listen again, Phelan started the bike. He revved the motor and drove away.
She watched the cabin as long as she could before they turned the corner and it faded from sight. Her throat clogged with regret.
The cabin had not just given her incredible nights with Phelan, it had also shown her a side of herself she hadn’t known was still there. A side that had been hidden, waiting for her to be strong enough to face it.
She turned her head forward. For good or worse she was on a course she hadn’t planned on. It wouldn’t make up for the evil she’d done—or the evil she was.
It was a start, however.
Aisley wasn’t fool enough to believe Phelan would think it proved she was on his side. The outcome between her and Phelan hadn’t changed.
And wouldn’t.
He was smart. If she didn’t come clean soon, he would figure out her secrets on his own. Or his friends would tell him. Neither of those scenarios benefited her.
Not that telling him was her best option. There wasn’t a best option. Yet, sh
e’d found inner strength after her time in the forest and the magic that had found her.
That inner strength would help get her through the next few days. It had been a silly dream to think she and Phelan could remain forever alone at the cabin.
Jason would find her. Phelan’s friends would push to meet the Druid he had found. All of which would destroy their paradise. Jason would ensure Phelan suffered while making her watch, and then Jason would turn his wrath on her.
Aisley closed her eyes when Phelan’s hand came up to cover hers that was wrapped around his waist. It was a comforting gesture, one she would hold in her heart through the long eternity of Hell.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Phelan slowly inched the Ducati onto the ferry before turning off the engine and resting his hands on his thighs.
“Mallaig,” Aisley said. “This is where Logan came searching for … the Tablet of Orn, right?”
“Aye. He and Gwynn met on the dock behind us.”
“Can you feel Druid magic?”
He nodded slowly. “Oh, aye. No’ so much on Mallaig. Here the magic is … residual. This was once a great stronghold of Druids that even Deirdre feared nearing. I suspect there are still a few Druids residing here, but their magic is almost gone.”
“That’s sad,” Aisley said as she removed her helmet and got off the bike. She turned to look at Mallaig. “Is there no way for the Druids to get their magic back?”
“Too many years mixing with those that have no magic have diluted things. I doona know if there’s an answer, beauty.”
“And Skye? Are there Druids there?”
Phelan’s gaze turned to Armadale, where they would be docking. It was considered Skye’s back door. Armadale was located on the low-lying Sleat Peninsula, but his gaze was drawn to the startling jagged peaks of the Cuillin mountains that towered above Armadale some fifteen miles farther inland.
“There are Druids,” Phelan finally answered. “I’ve been to Skye a few times over my years, but no’ once did I encounter a Druid.”
Aisley’s head swung to him with her forehead furrowed. “Why is that? Are they frightened of you?”
