by Donna Grant
“How do you know it was you we wanted to find it?”
That drew him up short. “You wanted Ai … You wanted the woman to find it.”
“Perhaps it was both of you.”
“She’s evil. You’re no’ a Dark Fae. Why would you want her?”
The Fae laughed, the sound bouncing off the sloping cave walls. “You’ve never seen a Fae. You don’t know what one looks like, much less one of the Dark.”
“I’m right.” He knew he was, he was just waiting for her to admit it.
Her grin grew. “You’re right.”
“Tell me why you’d have interest in a drough.”
“I could ask you the same question.”
Phelan spun around and stalked the short distance to the back of the cave. “Stop it! Stop answering my questions with questions.”
“Then stop being a wanker.”
“Just give me an answer. Please.”
There was a soft exhale before she said, “It won’t matter how I answer you. Whatever I say, you’ll question it further. Sometimes, stud, it’s better when there isn’t an answer.”
“I doona believe that.”
“If you can answer me with truth—the truth you’ve barely allowed yourself to understand—as to why you had interest in a drough, then I’ll answer your question.”
Phelan sank onto a nearby boulder and dropped his head into his hands as he leaned forward. “I can no’.”
“You can’t say the words because hearing them out loud will make it more true than hearing them in your head.”
He nodded. He wanted to deny everything she said, but he couldn’t. It was as if with her, he could admit to things he couldn’t even admit to himself.
There was a crunch of a boot as she nimbly made her way over rocks to sit beside him. “Tell me. Why were you with a drough?”
“Because she stirred my blood. Being without her seemed impossible.”
The Fae patted his shoulder. “If we hadn’t wanted Aisley to see the Fairy Pool we would’ve waited until you returned alone. We wanted the two of you to see it together. And before you ask, I can’t tell you why. Not yet at least.”
“Does it have to do with the Druids on Skye?” he asked as he lifted his head to look at her.
She nodded her head, her beauty shining even in the dark cave. “I’m not sure why it involves the Druids, but it does. We aren’t all-seeing, though some of us claim to be.”
“Why wait until now to come to me? You could’ve come while we were still on Skye or in Inverness, or even at Dreagan.”
She lifted one arched blue-black brow when he mentioned Dreagan, her gaze full of revulsion she didn’t try to hide. “The Fae don’t mix with the Dragon Kings. Ever.”
“All right.” The finality in her voice made him want to ask what had happened between them, but he knew she wouldn’t answer. “So are you here to comfort me?”
“Not exactly, stud. I’m here because I could never resist a hunky man who needed a good, swift kick to his perfectly formed ass.”
“What?”
She grinned widely. “I knew that would get your attention. Seriously though, you need to stop thinking of the woman and focus on your enemy.”
“Wallace.” Phelan sat up straight. “What do you know?”
“I know he’s more powerful than ever before. He holds more magic than Deirdre collected in her thousand years.”
“Shite.”
“That’s certainly one way of putting it, stud.”
Phelan got to his feet and started toward the entrance. He halted after a few steps and looked back at her, her silvery eyes almost glowing in the dark. “Is that all you came to tell me?”
“No.”
He waited as she stood, her tall, thin body gliding effortlessly over the jumbled rocks upon the floor until she stood beside him.
“The surname you search for who can end the selmyrs is Bennett.”
“Thank you,” he said and exited the cave.
Rhi watched him leave with a heavy heart. She had only given him half the clue he would need to discern the only person who could bring down the selmyr.
He wouldn’t have believed her anyway if she’d given him the truth.
She walked to the edge of the cave and watched Phelan’s form reach the top of the cliff. “Be careful, prince. Someone you care about is going to die very soon.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-FIVE
Phelan threw open the door of the castle. “We need to look at the surname Bennett.”
Everyone just stared at him except for Laura who jumped up from her spot at the long table. She rushed to Gwynn who had her laptop out.
“What are you talking about?” Arran asked.
There was a grin on Charon’s face when he said, “It’s for the selmyr.”
“The selmyr?” Cara repeated.
Phelan closed the door behind him as he walked into the great hall. “We were so caught up with Wallace that I forgot to mention we … I went to Skye in search of a way to defeat the selmyr.”
“Why Skye?” Isla asked.
He didn’t want to answer her, but her question was valid. “We already knew it was the Druids on Skye who contained the selmyr the first time. I knew it was the only place to start.”
Quinn frowned and leaned his elbows on the table. “Are there any Druids left on Skye?”
“No’ just left, but able to help,” Charon added.
Phelan looked around at all the faces waiting expectantly. He had looked forward to the time he could really help those at the castle. Finally, that day had arrived.
“Aye, there are Druids there. They followed us … me,” he corrected, hating that it seemed so natural to include Aisley in everything. “I spoke to their leader, Corann, as well as one young and powerful Druid, Ravyn.”
Broc leaned a shoulder against a wall as he stood behind Sonya. “How many are there?”
“That I doona know. Corann didna want to share much, but he allowed us … me to stay.” Phelan left out the Fairy Pool. That was private. Something only for him. And Aisley.
Reagan reached for the bottle of wine to refill her glass. “Tell us about the Druids.”
“Nay,” Lucan corrected. “Tell us what they know of the selmyr.”
Phelan accepted a plate of food from Dani with a nod of thanks and remained standing as he put a bite of shepherd’s pie in his mouth. “I’ll tell you both. First, the selmyr. Corann said they couldna help. The last time they contained the selmyr it took every Druid on Skye, and they lost hundreds in the process.”
“Damn,” Fallon murmured from his chair at the head of the table.
Phelan finished chewing his bite before he said, “That’s no’ all. Corann said there was only one bloodline who has the ability to wield the spell. The family was long gone from Skye, but he gave me the surname Hunter to begin with. After some searching, we … I,” he said with a frustrated sigh, “found the surname had branched off in several directions. The one we need to look at is Bennett.”
“How do you know?” Ronnie asked from her spot beside Arran in the small grouping of chairs at the hearth.
Phelan refused to tell them about his Fae encounter. That was also private. “It was a strong lead. I forgot about it until now.”
Hayden set down his mug of ale on the table. “So all we have to do is find this family?”
“No’ exactly. Corann said the Druids of the bloodline would know the spell. It’s somehow inherent in them. We have to find this Druid in order to even think about containing the selmyr again.”
Marcail stood at the kitchen door drying her hands from washing dishes. “Will the Druids from Skye help?”
“Nay,” Phelan admitted softly.
It was Saffron who stood up with little Emma in her arms. “We’re strong Druids. We’ve brought down two droughs. We can end the selmyr.”
“I agree,” Isla said.
Gwynn was still pounding away on her laptop when she looked up
and said, “Tell us of the Druids. What were they like?”
Phelan finished off his meal. “I only saw the two. Corann was old, but Ravyn was verra young. I think she was in her late teens or early twenties. I wasna permitted to see more of them.”
“Did you talk to them?” Camdyn asked.
“Aye.” Phelan handed his empty plate to Marcail and grabbed a mug of ale from the table. He drank down half of it and pinned Gwynn with his gaze. “Ravyn called herself a Windtalker.”
Gwynn’s fingers halted on the keyboard as she stared at him in shock. “She can hear the wind?”
“She can. Ravyn mentioned a Healer, Treewhisperer, Waterdancer, Firewalker, and others. I suspect there is a lot about the Skye Druids we doona know.”
Sonya had her hand on her chest. “There’s one who hears the trees?”
“What trees are on Skye,” Phelan said with a shrug.
Lucan tugged on one of the small braids at his temple. “They’d be good allies.”
“No’ sure that’s going to happen,” Phelan said and drained the rest of his ale. “They were no’ too happy with me being there. It’s the prophecy that they’re concerned with.”
The hall grew instantly quiet as Phelan had known it would. This was something he wished he could discard, but Corann had been worried enough to share the information with him. The least Phelan could do was pass it on.
“What prophecy?” Laura asked.
Phelan propped one foot on the bench next to Charon. “The one that claims a Warrior will pass his seed on to a drough. The child that union produces will hold all the evil of the world.”
Marcail gasped. “That was the prophecy Deirdre tried to fulfill with Quinn.”
“And failed miserably,” Quinn added.
Phelan rubbed his chin. “Unfortunately, when I mentioned that to Corann, he said it didna matter. That prophecy wasna for Deirdre. It never states who the drough or the Warrior will be.”
“Aisley is drough,” Dani stated in a soft voice that seemed to echo loudly in the hall.
Phelan turned his eyes to Ian’s wife. “Aye, she is. She’s also unable to have children.”
“He’s right,” Charon added. “Aisley was pregnant once before. She fell on some stairs, which made the delivery complicated. The doctors had to perform a C-section, and her daughter died hours later. I saw the medical records. Aisley can no’ have children.”
Fallon snorted. “As if a drough wouldna use magic to change that.”
A retort was on the tip of Phelan’s tongue. He only managed to hold it in at the last second. Fallon had his reasons to hate Aisley.
“Was she drough before she had the baby?” Larena asked.
Phelan looked into Larena’s smoky blue eyes and shook his head. “Nay. It was after that Wallace found her.”
“Does she have the magic to change it so she could have another child?”
“I mentioned it. She said it wasna possible.”
Larena looked away without saying more.
Logan rested his arm over Gwynn’s shoulders. “Did you explain to Corann that most of us are married to Druids?”
“I did. He wasna impressed,” Phelan said. “As far as we know, we’re the only Warriors left.”
Isla set her elbow on the table and propped her head against her hand. “That is if Wallace doesn’t find more as before.”
“That’s right,” Laura said. “I know the Warrior he had with him, Dale, wanted Aisley. If it happened once, it could happen again. Jason has the ability to find droughs and Warriors. It’s not a good combination.”
“Which is why we need to find him,” Lucan said.
Broc visibly jerked as if someone had hit him in the stomach. “That’s no’ going to be a problem. Wallace is at his mansion.”
“How do you know that?” Phelan asked. “Did you look for him?”
“Didna need to. He sent out a signal announcing his presence.”
Hayden slammed his hand on the table. “It’s time he dies. He wants us to know where he is, then I say we take the fight to him.”
* * *
Jason could only imagine the chaos at MacLeod Castle right about now after he broadcasted his whereabouts. There would be no more games of hiding and trying to gain the advantage.
He already had the advantage. And he was going to make full use of that fact.
Jason walked up the stairs onto the main floor of the house. His last session with Aisley had been productive. She was a strong woman, but no one could stand up to the torture he knew how to dole out.
While he’d been hitting her with physical torment, he’d been delving into her mind while she tried to keep from screaming.
How simple it had been to find the sadness that still gripped her over the loss of her daughter. Jason had used that grief to lure her to the dark side.
She’d been so strung out on drugs and malnourished that Aisley would have done anything for anyone. Lucky for him he made her believe her magic was weak but would be strong once she was drough.
He’d tempted her with whispered words of bringing back her daughter and getting revenge on her parents. It was the latter that Jason thought she’d carry through with. When she hadn’t, he’d taken matters into his own hands to prove a point.
His steps slowed when he felt something touch the shield he had around the mansion. It wasn’t magic to keep people out, but rather to call Druids to him. Only droughs, or those Druids who had evil festering inside them, would be able to pass through the defense.
Jason opened the front door and stepped out onto the entry. Six Druids stood at his gate looking confused and uncertain. The first walked through the barrier without hesitation. Two more followed.
He didn’t need droughs. In fact, the ones coming to him would only be a diversion to the Warriors. He’d take all Druids that came to him if he didn’t worry about an attack of conscience as Aisley developed. He had to be sure everyone with him wouldn’t betray him again.
“Welcome,” Jason said to the three droughs. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
The youngest of the group, a skinny teenage boy, had dyed black hair and skin powdered white, with black eyeliner and lipstick. “You do know what I am, right?”
“Do you know what I am?” Jason asked. “I’m your leader, lad. Keep that chip on your shoulder around everyone but me. I plan on ruling the world in a matter of days. That’s after I kill some Warriors and Druids.”
“Count me in,” Emo boy said and came to stand beside him.
The girl had on a waitress outfit and bright red hair that stuck out in short spikes all over her head. “Can I use magic?”
“Of course,” Jason answered.
“Fine. I’m in. As long as you don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with my magic I’ll follow you.”
Jason motioned for her to stand on his other side. That left the remaining female who looked to be in her mid-forties. She wore baggy, frumpy clothes and had dark circles under her eyes.
“And you?” he asked her.
“I’ve a family.”
He shrugged. “It’s your choice. Me or your family. Though, I’m no’ sure why a drough would have any choice at all.”
She shoved her frizzy, graying hair behind her ear and came to stand in front of Jason. “I’m Matilda.”
“And I’m Jason Wallace. Your new master,” he said as he looked at his three droughs.
CHAPTER
FORTY-SIX
Phelan looked out the castle window at the dawning of a new day. They had been up all night discussing how to attack Wallace. Tempers were short and everyone was exhausted. They were also divided.
The only ones not present were Aiden and Britt who were still working on finishing the serum to combat the drough blood.
Despite the urgings of Cara, Phelan had no interest in getting some rest. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Aisley, felt her in his arms, tasted her on his tongue.
“He’s taunting us,” Ronnie said. “O
ur answer shouldn’t be an attack.”
Arran brought his wife’s hand to his lips to kiss it. “Sweetheart, you’re no’ used to our ways yet.”
She rolled her eyes. “I may be an American and still new to the castle, but it’s obvious to me. Jason is setting a trap for us. We’d be fools to walk into it.”
“Wallace, Declan, Deirdre,” Fallon said. “They’ve all set traps, and we’ve gotten away.”
Sonya’s lips flatted as her amber eyes caught Fallon’s gaze. “Yes. We lost friends in the process. We all remember how powerful Deirdre was when she regained her body. I’ve a feeling Jason is going to be worse. I agree with Ronnie.”
“And I agree with my wife,” Broc said.
Ian nodded from his position straddling the bench. “As much as I’d like to find this wanker and end his miserable life, I doona think going to the mansion is the right call.”
“We willna be able to lure Wallace back to Dreagan,” Charon said.
Ramsey shook his head of black hair. “That was a onetime thing, I agree. Will the Dragon Kings be willing to help if we need them?”
“I can talk to them, but we’d be better off thinking it’s just us.”
Galen walked out of the kitchen with his fourth plate of food in an hour. “Agreed. I doubt Wallace will come here either.”
“Then where?” Tara asked with a mug of coffee held between her hands as she snuggled beside Ramsey. “We can’t exactly have a battle in the middle of town.”
Phelan smiled and looked at Charon. “There is one place we can.”
“Ferness,” Charon said.
Fallon gave a reluctant nod. “How long do your people need to evacuate, Charon?”
“No’ long. I’ll make the call now,” he said and got to his feet.
Talk would then turn to strategy. Phelan didn’t need to hear it. It was always the same. The Druids would be protected by a few Warriors while the rest of them attacked. It had worked countless times in the past.
The problem was, Phelan wasn’t sure it would work this time.
For the next hour, he listened as the Druids argued with the men about how they would benefit from being closer to the action and the Warriors answering with a resounding no.
