by Donna Grant
Her thread was faint, but that wasn’t what made his stomach turn. It was the knowledge that she had indeed been pulled through time.
He turned his attention next to Ian. It took him even longer than it had to find Deirdre, and by the time he did, his legs could barely hold him up.
Broc opened his eyes and looked at each individual in the castle. “Deirdre is four centuries into the future. And so is Ian, though he isna with her.”
Marcail’s knees buckled. Quinn helped her into a seat, his hand held protectively over her swelling stomach.
“She’s no longer a threat then since she isn’t here,” Cara said.
Ramsey shook his head slowly. “If only that were true. In the future, everything could change. We’ve no idea who pulled Deirdre forward, or why.”
“We doona know why Ian was taken either,” Logan said. “I do know it was the same magic. That isna all that happened in Mallaig. I found the falcon, or rather who was controlling it. It’s a group of Druids of Eigg. The one who was able to see through the peregrine’s eyes to watch us was named Brenna. They felt Deirdre’s magic and came to battle her.”
“Except she was taken,” Camdyn said.
Logan nodded. “The Druids on Eigg were watching us to see what we would do. They doona trust us, that was made clear by their leader Kerwyn. I doona think it matters, though. The only recourse we have now is to follow Ian and Deirdre.”
Lucan blew out a harsh breath. “Maybe no’ all of us.”
Logan nodded. “That was my thought as well.”
“I know the spell,” Isla said into the stillness that had once more descended. “And with the combined magic of the Druids here, we might be able to make it work.”
Reaghan licked her lips. “Together we can do it.”
“Though,” Isla said as she looked around her, “there’s no guarantee that whoever goes will land together.”
Logan stepped forward. “It doesna matter. I’m going to look for Ian as well as the Tablet of Orn. Doesna matter what century Deirdre is in. She still needs to die.”
“Include me,” Camdyn said as he stepped forward.
Broc looked to Ramsey and saw his friend push away from the wall.
“Me as well,” Ramsey said.
Arran’s body was rigid as he moved beside the other three. “Deirdre needs to pay for killing Duncan. And Ian will need someone he trusts in his present state.”
Broc looked around the hall at the other Warriors and their women. To the four stepping through time, it would be just a matter of heartbeats before they would see the castle again.
To everyone else, it would be centuries.
Ramsey turned to Isla. “You can strengthen the shield around the castle to hold off time for those inside.”
Isla frowned as her eyes took on a faraway look. “Because we will need all of us to awaken Laria.”
Ramsey nodded. “Precisely.”
Fallon rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the four Warriors who would travel through time. “Be careful. We doona know what Deirdre is about.”
“Which is why we need to get there soon,” Logan said.
Sonya pulled out of Broc’s arms to go with the other Druids who were now circling the four Warriors.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever see them again as the castle began to hum with magic. The Druids’ chanting grew louder the stronger their magic became.
Broc wished he would have spoken to Ramsey one last time. His gaze met Ramsey’s silver one. Ramsey gave him a ghost of a smile, and then he and the others were surrounded by shimmering air.
Then they were gone.
“Godspeed, my brothers,” Broc murmured.
EPILOGUE
Scotland
Present Day
Declan Wallace smiled and clasped his hands in front of him. All his work, all the research into the spells had paid off.
The great and feared Deirdre now stood before him. Her white eyes glared daggers at him.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
Declan shrugged and let his eyes take in her slim figure and the black gown that only made her white hair and eyes more beautiful. “Someone who has gone to a great deal to bring you to me.”
Her eyes narrowed as her magic built. “What have you done?”
“There’s no need to attempt to use your magic on me. It willna work. And I brought you here because, together, the world awaits us.”
He saw the ends of her hair twitch along the floor. He knew she would try to use her magic. Any good drough would. But he wasn’t just any drough.
He was the one who would conquer the world.
And master Deirdre.
As Logan listened to Hamish speak of Mallaig and its trials, Logan found himself thinking of his childhood and his family.
He usually kept memories of his parents and younger brother pushed far in a corner of his mind, but once he had reached the mainland port of Mallaig those memories had bombarded him.
He hadn’t tried to rid himself of them. In fact, he allowed himself a few moments to remember a happier time, a time when life had been pleasant. A time when he had been a good son.
A time before he had betrayed his family.
Memories he had hidden away for over a century were returning with a force too strong for him to shove away easily.
He didn’t know what was in store for him in the coming days, but whatever it was he knew it would alter the course of his future. He didn’t care what it was as long as he could continue to fight against Deirdre.
The oath he had made to put an end to her rode him tirelessly. He hadn’t felt as if he were doing enough, which was why he had stepped forward to find the next artifact, the Tablet of Orn. The tablet would lead them to the place where Deirdre’s twin, Laria, slept.
Laria was the only one who could kill Deirdre.
Logan took a deep breath, Hamish’s words barely registering. The deluge of conversations, haggling, and laughter assaulted him at every angle along the dock.
In the distance Logan spotted a market. A person could find any number of items at a market. Fruits, vegetables, cloth, baskets, ribbons, and even weapons. It was a visual spectacle he hadn’t realized he’d missed until then.
The sights, the sounds, the smells. It was all just as he recalled. The only thing missing was his mother examining a piece of cloth they couldn’t afford while his younger brother begged for a coin to buy a sweetmeat.
An ache, bone deep and crushing, began in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Could do nothing to hold back the tide of memories.
If he gave in, if he allowed the memories to take him, he would never return. They were as demanding and insistent as his god, Athleus.
He fisted his hands, thankful when his claws plunged deep into his palms and blood dripped between his fingers.
It was that pain, though momentary, which allowed him to get the upper hand to his recollections and shove them back into the a deep, dark corner of his mind.
When he opened his eyes he glanced down at his skin to confirm it hadn’t turned the silver of his god. Only then did he raise his gaze.
“Mallaig has survived,” Hamish said, his voice low and full of pain.
Logan could understand the old man. “We all survive. There is no other choice.”
Hamish lifted his gaze and gave a single nod. “Aye, lad. Ye’ve the right of it. What have ye survived being one so young?”
“Naught you’d believe, old man,” Logan said with a smile he knew didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He turned his head to look around him and stiffened as his gaze collided with a woman’s. But not just any woman. She was stunning.
Dazzling.
Mesmerizing.
For a moment he couldn’t form a coherent thought as he drank in her extraordinary beauty. She stood still as stone, her wide, expressive violet eyes trained on him.
Her black hair hung thick and straight just past her shoulders
where the ends lifted and swirled around her in the breeze coming from the sea. Her skin was unblemished, the color of cream, which beckoned to be touched. He longed to stroke it, to see if it was as soft and smooth as he imagined it would be.
His blood began to pound through his body. His balls tightened, eager to know the taste of her lips and the feel of her curves against his. He grew hard just thinking about holding her, of skimming his hands along her body.
Logan had always enjoyed women, but never in all his years had one affected him as this one did. She intrigued him. In a way that made him wonder if he should approach her or run the other way.
She was bundled against the weather with a hat of some kind that covered her head in various shades of pink stripes. She was of average height, but there was nothing common about her. She was a siren, an irresistible enchantress.
And he was smitten. Besotted. Infatuated.
He had to know her, but more than that, he had to taste her. Touch her.
Claim her.
Logan rose, intending to discover her name and every secret she had when he felt it glide over his body. Magic. It was soft, almost hesitant, but it was magic.
A delicious, succulent feel of magic that he had never experienced before.
ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES BY
DONNA GRANT
Dangerous Highlander
Forbidden Highlander
Wicked Highlander
Untamed Highlander
Shadow Highlander
Darkest Highlander
Praise for the Dark Sword novels by
DONNA GRANT
5! Top Pick! “An absolutely must read! From beginning to end, it’s an incredible ride.”
—Night Owl Romance
5 Hearts! “I definitely recommend Dangerous Highlander, even to skeptics of paranormal romance—you just may fall in love with the MacLeods.”
—The Romance Reader
5 Angels! Recommended Read! “Forbidden Highlander blew me away.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
5 Tombstones! “Another fantastic series that melds the paranormal with the historical life of the Scottish highlander in this arousing and exciting adventure. The men of MacLeod Castle are a delicious combination of devoted brother, loyal highlander, Lord and demonic God [who] ooze sex appeal and inspire some very erotic daydreams as they face their faults and accept their fate.”
—Bitten By Books
4 Stars! “Grant creates a vivid picture of Britain centuries after the Celts and Druids tried to expel the Romans, deftly merging magic and history. The result is a wonderfully dark, delightfully well-written tale. Readers will eagerly await the next Dark Sword book.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Totally captivating and entertaining … Cursed by dark magic, the immortal MacLeod brothers are a force to be reckoned with.”
—Fresh Fiction
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Donna Grant has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. She’s the author of more than twenty novels spanning multiple genres of romance—Scottish Medieval, dark fantasy, time travel, paranormal, and erotic. Her latest acclaimed series, Dark Sword, features a thrilling combination of Druids, primeval gods, and immortal Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives with her husband, two children, a dog, and three cats in Texas.
To learn more about Donna and her books, please visit www.donnagrant.com and www.donnagrant.com/blog.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DARKEST HIGHLANDER
Copyright © 2012 by Donna Grant.
Excerpt from Midnight’s Master copyright © 2012 by Donna Grant.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
www.stmartins.com
eISBN: 9781466801370
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / February 2012
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
