Liam nodded. “She is fine.”
A sinking feeling came over her. “Kennard?”
Liam glanced at his brother first and then toward something behind them. “He’s in that—in wolf form.”
“This is bad,” said Cillian, voicing her concern. “Verra bad.”
“What the hell is it?” asked Liam.
“Pure evil,” answered Cillian. “It would have taken me over had I nae been holdin’ Maggie. She was a buffer of sorts. I do nae know the hows or whys, but I know she kept me safe from it. Kennard has no buffer in there with him.”
Maggie noticed something shiny, catching the moonlight just so. A discarded sword. Instincts kicked in and she bent, grabbing the heavy sword and lifting it. The twins could stand around trying to figure out what to do, she wasn’t going to waste time planning. She was taking action.
Her power surged up and out of her, striking the black mass that now held Kennard within it. Screaming, she tried to draw her power into herself with no success. She didn’t want to accidentally hurt Kennard in there as well. The mass swelled and then popped. Out fell one wolf and one snake-like guy.
The wolf slid off the edge of the trailer, and as it fell, Liam stood and threw power out, whispering a chant she didn’t know, halting the wolf from falling onto twisted metal that lay to the side of the trailer.
There was a blur and then suddenly Liam was thrown off the other side of the trailer. Maggie blinked twice, sure she was hallucinating. Why else would Rodney be there, staring at her, a wicked grin on his face?
“Rodney?” Her voice shook as she held tighter to the sword. She wasn’t experienced with one, but she had a pretty good idea that the pointy end needed to be aimed at the bad guy.
In this case, Rodney.
He licked his lips, his hair slicked back more than usual. He lifted his arms and she noticed symbols similar to those Kennard had on his torso there. Rodney hadn’t had them before. She’d seen his arms enough when he wore short sleeves to know.
“Rodney what did you do?” she asked, wanting to run and check on both the wolf and Liam, but she didn’t dare move closer to Rodney or take her eyes off him.
The darken mass behind him stopped swirling, and when it formed into the shape of a man, she held her breath, already knowing who it would be.
Athol.
Maggie took the smallest of steps backwards as her fears were confirmed. Athol reached out, putting a hand on Rodney’s shoulder. He nodded, never looking at Rodney, instead, his gaze on Maggie as he spoke. “You did well, young apprentice.”
Through a haze, Maggie tried to figure out what he was talking about. Rodney? An apprentice? To what? A porn director, maybe. A demon, hell no.
Rodney lacked the brains, the drive and, most importantly, he wasn’t a supernatural. She was sure of it. Just as sure as she was that the sun rose in the east. The man was nothing more than a sleazebag.
A moment of clarity struck. He was a sleazebag who had just shoved an immortal druid off her trailer and she doubted very much that Liam could be moved with any sort of ease. It would take supernatural strength.
It hit her then like a ton of bricks landing on her chest, taking the very air from her lungs. Rodney was in league with Athol and somehow ended up more than human in the deal. She just didn’t understand what Athol got out of it all.
Athol lowered his head, and when he looked up again, his face blurred a moment. When it cleared it was no longer snake like but was what she’d term handsome. Strikingly so. Long, red hair hung just past the dark mage’s shoulders and he looked whole, complete, not like the demons she knew him to be. A smile touched his lips but never reached his blue eyes.
“Daughter, thank you for loaning me your power in my time of need,” he said, his voice missing the soft hiss it held in her dreams. There were faint traces of a brogue there, but nowhere near the extent Kennard and his cousins had.
She paused, her thoughts landing on what he’d called her.
Daughter.
There was a roar behind her and she turned to find Kennard there, stark naked to start with—his clothes materializing on him. His nostrils flared and the cords in his neck worked overtime. He stared out from yellow eyes.
Wolf’s eyes, she thought, feeling overwhelmed.
“You lie, Dark Mage,” he snapped, storming up and standing next to Maggie, the feel of his body brushing hers giving her the strength she needed to snap out of her silent funk.
She tried to hand him his sword.
He shook his head. “Nae, lass, I plan to kill him with bare hands.”
Who was she to argue with that? “That’ll work too.”
Athol’s smile widened and the same unease she always felt around him returned. “You would really kill your father-in-law?”
“Yer nae related to her,” said Kennard, his voice low, yet powerful. “And how is it you know who she is to me?”
Tipping his head and lifting his arms wide, Athol turned in a circle and a mist of black power moved around him in a trail. The sound of Maria screaming brought reality crashing in on Maggie. She made a move to run at Athol, but Kennard plucked her up and off her feet, setting her behind him.
With a huff, she tried again to go around him at Athol. Kennard repeated the steps and then chanced a glance over his shoulder. “Woman, enough.”
Before she could yell at Kennard, Athol interrupted, “I have always known who you are to her from the day of her birth. You remember, don’t you, Kennard? You found me there with her bitch of a mother who barely got through birthing her before dying. She was weak. Witches always are. You were there, so close, able to have killed me with ease then, but you couldn’t, could you?”
Kennard stiffened and Maggie watched as claws came from his fingertips. She didn’t dare try to walk around him again. She’d let him lead if it was that important to him. She was smart enough to know when to step aside and allow two heavy-hitting magiks do their thing. This was one of those times.
“Maria?” she called, needing to know her friend wasn’t hurt.
“Maggie? Are you okay?” Maria responded, worry in her voice.
“For now,” said Maggie. “Liam and Cillian?”
“Liam is currently trying to hump my leg,” she returned.
“Och, I am nae!” yelled Liam.
Athol rolled his eyes. “Really, Kennard, how is it the three of you managed to corner me at all?”
Kennard growled and then gasped. “You were holdin’ somethin’ close to you all those years ago. As if it was precious to you.”
“Not something, druid,” said Athol, stepping closer, Rodney moving up with him. “Someone. Margaret. My daughter.”
Maggie gasped.
Wincing as if Athol’s words hurt, Kennard glanced back at her. She didn’t need to fake a horrified look. It was real. His expression calmed and he winked at her, tempering her near hysterics.
“Lass, I do nae much like yer father,” he said.
She held the sword out to him. “Neither do I. Here. Do what needs done.”
He seemed surprised but not as much as Athol.
“You would have him run your own flesh and blood through, Maggie?” Athol asked.
“You’re the reason the all uptick in paranormal violence, aren’t you?” she demanded, already knowing the truth. Another thought occurred to her. “And you’re why I’ve been so exhausted and drained. You’ve spent my life haunting my dreams, taking from me power wise. You’re a parasite.”
Kennard nodded. “I like to call him a boil on the ass of humanity, but he lost any humanity he had long ago.”
Rodney snarled. “Do not speak to the master that way!”
“Boy, I will break you,” warned Kennard.
“He promised me immortality and Maggie,” answered Rodney, sick glee in his beady gaze.
Maggie nearly threw up at the thought of being given to Rodney.
Athol swore under his breath and flicked his wrist. Rodney’s head spun all the
way around, twice. His body fell limp onto the trailer top, and with another flick of Athol’s wrist Rodney’s body flung off the trailer and into the dark abyss.
Maria’s curses in Spanish were clear to hear. “You piece of shit!”
“Lass, the man is already dead,” said one of the twins. “You do nae have to pull his head off. ‘Tis already twisted around enough on its own.”
“But he was in on this,” said Maria.
Maggie loved her best friend and loved that Maria was ready to kill the already dead to protect her.
Athol held his hand out to her. “Come, daughter. Together we can amass more power than any could imagine. Together we will be unstoppable.”
She’d grown up always wanting to know her father. Always wanting a connection to her past, but now that it was being offered to her, she wanted nothing to do with it. She just wanted him gone and she wanted to know he could never hurt another again.
“You could not kill me twenty-three years ago, Kennard. You won’t do it now either. You won’t want her to hate you—her mate. I have been there for Maggie. I have protected her over the years when you were nowhere to be found. It was I who came to her and helped guide her power. And it is me who will mold her into the perfect weapon.”
Maggie saw the change in Kennard’s posture. Athol’s words were getting to him. The sick fuck was playing with Kennard’s mind and playing on his fears. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that Athol was evil and that he had to be stopped regardless the cost.
Maggie drew upon her magik and coated the sword she held with it, hoping no one would notice her doing so. She waited, listening as Athol continued to taunt Kennard. It went on and on until Athol was close enough for her to strike and strike she did. With a roar, Maggie rushed forward, driving the sword into Athol’s chest, her magik riding it high, helping it move through him like butter. Suddenly, Kennard was there, taking the hilt from her, twisting her away from it all as he finished Athol off.
Maggie was facing the other way when she heard two distinct thuds. She knew without looking the thuds were Athol. And she knew it was all finally over.
Exhaustion won out and she crashed hard, going to her knees. Kennard grabbed her up and into his arms. He whispered something she couldn’t understand, but the fierce need to close her eyes and rest came over her. She was in no condition to stop it and she didn’t want to.
The man who had been terrorizing her since she was little was dead.
Chapter 12
Kennard stood just outside the door to the room he was renting at the B&B. Beyond the door lay Maggie, resting quietly, barely talking to anyone, including her best friend who had stopped by several times a day for the past week. Cillian and Liam were helping at Maggie’s coffee shop. How the twins hadn’t run off her business was beyond Kennard. The people of Sandsville seemed to like the twins—even Liam. And after Kennard called his cousin Coyle—a high ranking member of the High Council of Magiks—to let him know all that had happened, Coyle suggested they let Sandsville keep Liam, at least for a bit.
Raising his hand, Kennard considered knocking. He’d given Maggie space. Too much space probably, sleeping in another room, allowing her time to try to work through all she’d learned a week ago. She’d barely touched her plate of food—again.
He sighed and rapped lightly on the door.
No response.
No surprise.
“Lass, if you do nae answer the door, I will let myself in,” he said, deciding the time had come for her to stop wallowing.
He heard her soft curses as if they were spoken at a normal level—his wolf hypersensitive around her. Amusement tugged at his lips. His woman had a foul mouth on her when her temper flared. He’d seen her in action. She was fierce indeed.
The door opened and Maggie stood there, wearing all white, her long red hair braided in one braid over her left shoulder. The cuts on her face were almost healed, but seeing them enraged him once more. How dare Athol raise his hand to her? His own flesh and blood.
She worked at a tiny cross she wore around her neck, her blue gaze averted, shame radiating from her. Maria was right. The cat-shifter had cornered Kennard, insisting that she thought Maggie was ashamed of what she was—of who fathered her.
“Lass, look at me,” he ordered.
She obeyed.
He’d been dancing on the brink of a shift all week, and he wasn’t sure his wolf could have handled anything other than obedience at the moment. He put his hands on the doorframe, leaning in slightly. He stared down at her. “You know yer nae like him, right? That yer nothin’ like yer father.”
The dark shadows around her eyes troubled him. Though he’d promised himself that he would keep his hands to himself, he found himself touching just under her right eye gently. “My sweet Maggie.”
She sniffled and finally met his gaze. “The people in town were right. I’m evil.”
“Och, yer nae evil, and what people think this?” he asked. “For all I’ve seen are people comin’ out to help in large numbers. They’ve cleaned the lot yer trailer was on, and anything that could be salvaged they did. They’ve even started a fundraiser for you, though I told them they dinnae need to. That I can and will see to all yer needs.”
He could tell she didn’t believe him. Her gaze narrowed. “Are they mocking me? Mad Maggie?”
“Lass, while some may have been cruel in yer past—as Maria has explained to me—they are nae so now. They love you here, Maggie. Yer one of their own and they protect their own. Mr. Hopkins took his cane and whapped Liam a good one for nae tellin’ him where you were. Cillian had to pull the old man off his brother.”
That brought a laugh from her and warmed his heart. He understood that his feelings for her were because she was his chosen, but in addition to what the Fates had lined up for him, he found himself growing more and more attached to the woman, even though she kept him at a distance.
“He really hit Liam with his cane?” she asked, stepping aside so he could enter.
He brushed past her, his body heating. “Aye. Cillian found it verra funny.”
She laughed again and then sighed. “I’ll never be able to repay them for their help.”
“Yer family, lass. They do such things for family.”
She caught his wrist. “I’m not family. We’re not mated. Maria explained everything in detail to me. I know that while I’m supposedly some chosen one for you, we’re not actually a fully mated couple in the eyes of the supernaturals.”
He nodded. “’Tis true, we are nae yet fully mated, but that does nae take from who you are to me. And before you ask, no, I willnae go and leave you be. You wish to remain here, then so shall I. I’ve already talked with builders about breaking ground on our home.”
Maggie sucked in a large breath and squeezed his wrist, easing closer to him. “Our home? What do you mean?”
Her fingers branded him, burning his skin in the best way, making his already undeniable need for her grow at an alarming rate. He knew it was for the best that he remove her hand from him but couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he broke his own rule about giving her space and not pushing her too far or too hard. He took hold of her and dragged her against his frame, a low growl coming from him.
She yelped, exciting his wolf more.
Kennard dipped his head, his lips finding hers, and he kissed her, leaving her no room to doubt what he felt for her. No room to question what was between them. Passion. And a hell of a lot of it.
Her tongue met his and he smiled against her lips. When her hands inched their way up and under his shirt, he found himself backing her up towards the bed, wanting what he’d been denied since their meeting.
Her.
All of her.
She yanked at his shirt and a frustrated noise came from her as she broke their kiss. “Off.”
He grinned. “Aye.”
Kennard removed his shirt and tossed it aside. He paused, not wanting to break the moment, but he didn’t want any
one interrupting what was about to happen. He shut the door to the room and locked it, his attention returning to Maggie.
He thought she might change her mind, go back to ignoring him and sulking. She surprised him by pulling her shirt over her head, tossing it on the floor near his. Her pale cream-colored bra showed her nipples through it with ease, making his cock respond.
He kicked off his boots and then touched the tops of his jeans. “Yer sure?”
“Aye,” she mimicked his brogue, making him laugh. She didn’t wait for him as she eased her bra off, letting it fall away. When she pushed her skirt and panties down, he feared he’d come where he stood, just looking at her.
His woman was a vision of beauty and oozed sex appeal. Simply being near her nearly drove him mad with need. Kennard had waited long enough for her. At the rate she’d been doing on her own, she’d never be ready. More importantly, she’d never forgive herself. Her shame and self-loathing would come between them always—if he continued to let it.
Reaching down, he finished removing his jeans. Since he didn’t bother with underwear ever, he was now naked before her. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her pert, pink nipples. He didn’t trust himself to touch them gently so he looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to collect himself fully before moving forward.
Cool fingers wrapped around his shaft and he jerked, his gaze snapping to Maggie who was before him. She bit at her lower lip, drawing her hands up and down the length of him. She kissed his upper chest and he threw his arms out wide, knowing better than to trust himself now.
She giggled and the sound was music to his ears. His woman had found joy in something again. That pleased him. Knowing it was him that made her smile, pleased him more. He felt it then, her warm magik rising between them, calling to his power. His power answered instantly, weaving around hers, complementing it as a mate’s energy should. Unable to control himself a moment longer, Kennard lifted her, his lips finding hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He’d played this moment in his head a thousand times over the past week, working out how he’d caress her, love her, sample her—giving her endless pleasure before he took her.
A Druid of Her Own: An Immortal Highlander (Druid Series Book 4) Page 9
