by Donna Grant
He was prepared.
The drough magic weighed him down until he dropped to one knee, his lips peeled back over clenched fangs. His body strained against the assault, his power surging through him to give him added strength.
* * *
Guy exchanged a glance with Hal and Rhys as they ran up after ensuring everyone had gotten out of the castle safely. Guy looked at the battle going on below.
It wasn’t in his nature—or any of the Kings’—to leave a friend in trouble. He knew when he’d promised Malcolm that he would take Evie that it might very well come to this.
“We’re no’ seriously leaving him,” Rhys said angrily.
Guy licked his lips and glanced at Evie who stood against the car with tears running down her face. “I made a promise. I have to get Evie away.”
“We doona,” Hal said.
Guy nodded, a plan taking form. He walked to Evie and bent so that she had to look at him. “I need you to use your magic and prevent anyone from seeing the battle.”
“What?” Evie asked and tried to pull away from him. “I don’t know that spell. How can I do that?”
Rhys stalked to her and pointed to the few who lingered to stare at the odd array of lightning coming from below them at the ruins. “Take a look around, Druid. People are noticing. Once they think they’re no’ in danger they’ll want a closer look. Do you really want them to see Malcolm? Do you know what will happen if they do?”
“I…” She paused and gave a little shake of her head. “They can’t see Malcolm. They can’t know.”
“Then do something,” Hal urged.
Guy watched as Evie pushed away from the car and walked between him and Rhys. She stopped before she got to the stone wall separating the parking lot from the ruins below.
“Doona worry about a spell,” Guy said. “Just think of blocking out Malcolm and his opponent from view.”
Just as Guy expected, it took Evie but a few minutes before her magic was able to hide Malcolm and Wallace from view.
“Let’s go help Malcolm,” Evie said when she faced him.
Hal opened the passenger door to his Ferrari. “Malcolm’s opponent is no match for him. Besides, Malcolm will do his best fighting once he knows you’re no’ here to get hurt.”
“I can’t leave.”
“He’s down there for you,” Guy argued. “To make sure you get away. Doona make what he’s doing for nothing.”
She wiped at a tear and walked to the car. She paused with one foot in the car and said, “Don’t let anything happen to him. Please.”
“You’ll be seeing him soon.” Hal closed the door once she was seated.
Guy gave a nod to his fellow dragons and walked to the driver’s side. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine. As he drove away, he prayed they hadn’t just lied to Evie.
* * *
Malcolm felt more blood run down his abdomen as his chest was sliced open. He shifted his shoulders to try and deflect the next hit of magic, but Wallace was too fast.
“You’re supposed to be a Warrior,” Jason taunted. “I see a slow, wounded animal in front of me, no’ the immortal beasts I usually fight.”
Malcolm roared his fury. He threw a bolt of lightning at Wallace as he leapt toward him. Malcolm smiled when he caught Jason by surprise and landed on his chest, pinning him to the ground.
He wrapped a hand around Wallace’s neck and squeezed. “We found a way to kill Deirdre. We’ll find a way to kill you.”
“We?” Wallace laughed and touched Malcolm’s arm holding his throat.
Malcolm bit back a bellow of anger as fire raced up his skin, scorching him. He refused to release Jason though. He sank his claws into Wallace’s neck and smiled when his blood flowed. “You will die.”
A massive blast of magic hit Malcolm squarely in the chest and sent him somersaulting through the air. He shifted in the air to land on his feet and spotted Wallace standing.
“I’ve already died, you miserable fuck! You can no’ kill me. No one can.”
“Want to bet?” Malcolm threw his words back at him.
“I’ve had enough of this.”
Malcolm let his lightning fly around him, hitting anything and everything. He wanted Wallace dazed when he ripped out his heart.
But Malcolm never got that chance. He knew Wallace’s magic had increased, but he wasn’t prepared for the full force of it that had him pinned against the tower unable even to pull a breath into his lungs.
Jason walked to him as the lightning died away. “This was … entertaining to say the least. I have plans for you, Malcolm. You just proved everything I needed to know.”
Pain blinded Malcolm as he felt his scarred shoulder begin to twist at an odd angle. Bone popped, muscle shredded, and ligaments broke. Skin was torn, sliced as more cuts covered him.
All the while he was powerless to fight. It was worse than when Deirdre had sent her Warriors after him. At least then he’d been able to defend himself. It had been a poor attempt, but it was better than what he was enduring now.
He tried to call up his power, but Wallace had even put a halt to that. Malcolm had endured pain before. He would again. Anything for Evie.
Because despite Wallace still having Brian and now Evie’s necklace, he didn’t have her. It was the one thing Malcolm had done right. He knew without a doubt the Dragon Kings would make sure Wallace never touched her.
He also suspected the Kings would do what they could to get Brian back, even if that included bringing the other Warriors in on it.
Inwardly, Malcolm yelled as his arm was torn, leaving it hanging from his body by a thin strip of flesh. Wallace wasn’t going to allow him to live, which is what he’d expected.
Malcolm just wished he’d have taken a few minutes and called Larena. He’d put his cousin through too much already. With his death, maybe she could get on with her life instead of worrying over him.
“That looks like it hurt,” Wallace said as he peered at Malcolm’s damaged arm. “Let’s see if I can make the other hurt worse.”
It felt like white-hot pokers were thrust into his shoulder. Malcolm’s gaze was locked on Wallace. The drough’s magic seemed to be unstoppable and never ending. With mere thoughts, he could do whatever he wanted.
Jason’s smile, full of satisfaction and delight, made Malcolm sick. Wallace enjoyed making people suffer. He savored the shouts of pain and cries for mercy.
It was too bad Malcolm wouldn’t be the one to bring the asshole down.
Malcolm’s gut clenched when he felt his shoulder shatter into pieces. If he hadn’t been held by Wallace’s magic, he knew he would be doubled over from the pain.
“Did that no’ hurt?” Wallace asked in confusion. “I know that must’ve hurt. Yet you didna cry out, Malcolm. I suppose I need to inflict more pain.”
Malcolm thought of ways he could kill Wallace, of how he’d skin him inch by inch. Malcolm imagined the thousands of different methods that could make Jason suffer.
All the while, Wallace used his magic to continue to torture him in varying ways.
Malcolm was suddenly pulled away from the tower, only to find Wallace with a deranged smile on his face as he sent Malcolm crashing back into it. Time and again.
Malcolm heard the stones crack under the assault, felt the bones in his body break one by one. His nose and jaw were crushed as Wallace sent him face-first into the tower.
When the stones finally shattered and Malcolm crashed into the next wall, an image of Evie’s face filled his mind. He drifted away from the agony and concentrated on the one thing in his life that had given him happiness.
Evie.
“It’s time,” Wallace’s voice sounded in his ear.
He knew what Jason was going to do next. What Wallace didn’t know was that Malcolm, along with everyone at MacLeod Castle, benefited from Britt’s serum, which would counteract the drough blood.
Malcolm tried to smile, but he couldn’t manage it. In the next instant, M
alcolm’s body jerked as drough blood was dropped into one of his many wounds.
He ground his teeth together, not understanding why the serum wasn’t protecting him. Then he realized why—magic. Malcolm didn’t know how long it took for Wallace to use his body as a battering ram to break through the tower’s outer wall. None of it mattered as one by one, his organs began to shut down.
One moment he was smashed against the stones, and the next Malcolm was sailing through the air, the dark waters of Loch Ness rising to meet him.
* * *
Rhys let out a shout when he and Hal raced through the gatehouse to see Malcolm’s body being rammed against the tower again and again.
Wallace turned to them, ready to fight, just as Rhys shifted into dragon form. That’s all it took for Wallace to use his magic and disappear.
Rhys flew over the now-crumbling tower and tucked his wings to dive into the water. Just before he hit, he shifted back into human form.
Seconds after he dove into the water, Hal followed. They followed Malcolm’s still form as it floated downward into the loch.
Rhys was the first to reach him. He took hold of Malcolm’s arm and started to pull when he saw the damage. With a curse, Rhys swam deeper and locked an arm around Malcolm’s chest as blood continued to seep from his wounds.
Time was of the essence. Rhys shifted into dragon form with Malcolm carefully clutched in one of his claws before he broke the surface of the water and flew to the clouds and turned toward Dreagan.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
Evie had imagined how her afternoon would be, but not once had she thought Brian wouldn’t be beside her and that she would leave Malcolm behind to fight some unknown foe.
She’d never felt so helpless, defenseless. So … incapable.
A tear dropped on her cheek and she hastily swiped it away. How she hated that she couldn’t even get her emotions under control.
“You know it’s no’ your fault,” Guy said.
She glanced at him before focusing her gaze back on the road. “Of course it is. I put up the Web site. I went looking for Druids. I’m the imbecile who posted the picture of the necklace. I’m the one who chose to become drough.”
“Perhaps, lass, but you were no’ the one who set out to betray you.”
Evie shuddered as she remembered the man’s voice. “You know who it was Malcolm was fighting, don’t you?”
The only indication she got that Guy had actually heard her was the slight whitening of his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“Who is he?” she prodded.
Guy put his blinker on before he turned off the main road. “Malcolm should be the one to answer that.”
“He’s not here with me now. You are, and I asked a question. I still don’t have my brother, my necklace was stolen, and I left Malcolm behind. You can answer this.”
“Wallace. Jason Wallace is his name,” came the grumbled reply.
Evie closed her eyes and refused to shed any more tears. “Dear God. Malcolm told me it was him. I kept hoping Malcolm was wrong, but he wasn’t.”
Her eyes snapped open when a mobile began to ring. Guy quickly pulled over and dug the phone out of his pocket. “Aye,” he answered.
Evie looked down at her hand to see a broken thumb nail that went all the way to the quick. When had that happened? She didn’t remember feeling any kind of pain.
“Shite. We’re on our way,” Guy said and tossed aside the phone before stomping on the accelerator, the Ferrari spinning out before it roared to life and raced down the road.
A feeling of dread descended. Evie gripped her hands together in her lap. “Tell me that wasn’t about Malcolm. Please, Guy, I need some good news.”
Guy’s eyes briefly met hers before he focused on the road, weaving the red supercar in and out of traffic as he sped down the road.
“No. No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. Get me to him now!” Evie shouted.
* * *
Phelan smiled when Aisley gave him the other half of her sandwich. “How’d you know I was still hungry?”
“You’re always hungry,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“You know it.” He gave her a wink and pulled her into his lap.
Aisley tucked her hair behind her ears and pretended that Charon and Laura weren’t watching. “You were satisfied this morning.”
“TMI,” Laura said and laughed. “I’ve got my hands full with Charon. I don’t need to know about the two of you.”
Charon shrugged and set aside his napkin. “What? You know I never get enough of you.”
Phelan opened his mouth to tease Aisley more when a form filled the doorway. He recognized Hal instantly. The fact the Dragon King wore Phelan’s newly bought jeans that had been folded on the couch seconds ago didn’t go unnoticed.
“I’m sorry to barge in,” Hal said and looked from Charon to Phelan. “I’ve come for you.”
“Come for me?” Phelan repeated. He walked to the window and looked down from the third story of Charon’s building into the back parking area to see only his and Charon’s vehicles. “As in you flew here? As a dragon?”
Hal nodded solemnly. “It’s an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency would make you risk being seen?” Charon asked.
Hal briefly shut his eyes and shook his head. “It’s Malcolm. He fought Wallace.”
Phelan welcomed Aisley’s comfort when she walked to him and took his hand. “Where is Malcolm?”
“At Dreagan. Rhys took him. There’s no’ a lot of time, Phelan. We have to go now.”
“We’ll never make it by car.”
Hal stared at him, his moonlight blue eyes telling them without words how precarious the situation was. “I’ll be flying you.”
Phelan gave Aisley a kiss and walked to Hal. “Let’s get going.”
Charon, Laura, and Aisley rushed for the stairs. “We’ll meet you there,” Charon called.
Phelan followed Hal to the sliding glass door and walked outside.
“I need to climb high and fast. I’ll no’ let you fall though.”
Phelan grunted. “Just get me to Malcolm.”
The words had barely left his mouth before a dragon the color of emeralds was hovering above him. Phelan leaped into the air, and Hal’s large claw came around him. And then they were flying straight up into the clouds.
Phelan might have enjoyed how fast Hal flew, his massive wings eating miles in one flap, but his worry over Malcolm was too great.
“Were you with Malcolm?” Phelan yelled up at Hal.
Hal’s great head gave a nod, which caused Phelan to curse. If they needed him for Malcolm, it was because Wallace had used drough blood and the serum hadn’t worked. It was Phelan’s blood, his Fae blood, that allowed him to heal anyone of anything.
The only thing he couldn’t do was bring someone back from the dead.
The clouds began to thin. Phelan caught sight of Dreagan on the horizon. In no time at all, the mansion was in view. Hal dove from the sky and released Phelan.
Phelan landed with his legs bent and rolled. He immediately came to his feet to find Constantine, the King of Kings standing at the front door to the mansion with bloodstains on his white dress shirt.
“Follow me,” Con said brusquely.
Phelan hurried after Con, dusting off his clothes as he did. He was taken to the third floor of the mansion and down a long corridor to a back bedroom.
He looked into the room and saw Malcolm lying still—too still—on the large bed.
“I got him here as fast as I could,” Rhys said from the corner.
Phelan took a look at the dragon’s gaze and knew whatever had happened to Malcolm, Wallace had enjoyed it.
It wasn’t until Phelan stood by the bed and saw the damage to his friend that he grabbed the headboard to keep himself on his feet. “Son of a bitch,” he ground out.
“I’ve paused the drough blood inside him,” Con said as
he walked to the other side of the bed. “It’s odd that I can no’ heal him completely. We’re hoping you can.”
Phelan raked a hand down his face knowing he would forever see the image of Malcolm’s right arm almost completely torn from his body and his entire front, including his face, so cut up he was unrecognizable.
“It’s been the same for me,” Phelan finally managed to get out. “Wallace has done something to his blood. A serum was created to block whatever Wallace did, but it must no’ be working. I can slow what the drough blood does to a Warrior, but I can no’ heal it as I used to.”
Con removed his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves. “Looks like it’s going to take both of us.”
“I’m no’ going to lose him,” Phelan said. “I’ll do whatever it takes, contact whoever it takes.”
Con raised a blond brow. “Meaning you’ll send a message to Rhi?”
“If I have to.” It was Rhi, a Fae, who had first found him. She was elusive and came only when she wanted, but he’d never asked her for a favor. He just hoped that she would understand it was an emergency if he called for her.
Con shrugged. “If I have to have a Fae on Dreagan, she’s the least offensive.”
Phelan let a gold claw elongate from his right hand. He held his arm over Malcolm and used his talon to slice a long cut down the length of his forearm.
His blood gushed out and onto Malcolm’s many wounds. Normally it would take just a drop or two of his blood to begin healing, but with Wallace’s new drough blood, things were different.
While Phelan continued to pour his blood into Malcolm, Constantine simply touched Malcolm. That’s all it took for Phelan to experience the unusual dragon magic possessed by all the Kings.
“Why is it no’ working?” Rhys demanded.
Phelan met the dragon’s gaze and heard the unmistakable rattle of death in Malcolm’s chest.
It was another thirty minutes before Phelan let out a slow breath. “He’s improving.”
“No’ by much,” Con said flatly. “Just what did Wallace do to the drough blood?”
Phelan cut his arm again and held the wound over Malcolm’s damaged right arm. “He died and came back. I fear he’s indestructible now.”
