by Donna Grant
And if she did it once, she could do it again.
It had always been easy for her to call up her magic, and it was no different now, though it was darker, heavier. It rushed through her like a tidal wave. The power of it staggered her. Evie let it surround her until only she, her magic, and Malcolm existed.
Then, she began to methodically push her magic into him while she pictured his wounds healing. Evie had never used her magic thus, and she was surprised at how quickly her body drained of energy.
She refused to give up, however. A smile formed when she heard the drums and chanting her grandmother had taught her to seek in the times she needed guidance.
Evie let herself draw closer to the chanting, but it wasn’t just the ancients with her. There was something dark, something sinister lurking on the fringes of her mind.
It beckoned her with shadowy fingers, urging her closer. Wickedness surrounded the entity. Like a black cloud of gloom, it waited patiently.
Evie turned her attention away from it and concentrated on the chants and drums, but again and again she found herself looking to the shadow figure. And then the shadows faded and she was able to see.
A wall of flames suddenly appeared, their edges licking high into the sky. And then she saw the figure. It danced in a large circle to a provocative, bewitching beat that lulled her, pulled her.
The person, neither man nor woman, was clothed in solid back. Even its head was masked by material that kept every inch of skin from being revealed.
Evie couldn’t stop herself from moving. She began to sway with the figure. It was captivating, hypnotizing. It knew exactly what she wanted. Without words, the figure promised to heal Malcolm, pledged to get Brian back. It vowed magic potent enough to wipe out Jason Wallace once and for all.
All the figure asked for in return was … her.
Evie forgot about the ancients as she focused on the figure. All her problems could be solved if she just gave in. All she had to do was go to the figure, to say yes.
She jerked as it took her hands and began to twirl her around, holding her securely in its embrace. It wooed her, enticed her.
Tempted her.
Strong, violent magic raced through her veins. She could feel herself changing, becoming dark … dangerous. The magic was addictive, enslaving. Dominating.
Evie tried one feeble attempt to turn away from it, but the black magic had her in its grip. As if overjoyed, the figure spun her around faster and faster.
All around them flames danced, reaching higher and higher. Her eyes became heavy, her limbs weighty. The more she danced, the harder it was for her to remember why she was using her magic at all.
The flames licked at her, touching her skin without burning. She laughed as she weaved in and out of the blaze. Dimly, she realized the figure was now watching her instead of dancing with her. There were no eyes, no mouth, no nose—but she knew the figure approved.
Malcolm.
The name was a shout in her mind. She halted instantly, her mind remembering Malcolm and his injuries. The figure began dancing again, drawing nearer and nearer, as it once more tried to enchant her.
The hold the figure had on her was gone. She remembered Malcolm, remembered why she was using her magic to help him. Her stomach heaved at what she had nearly forgotten, and the people who counted on her. Evie tried to walk away, but the flames that hadn’t harmed her before now burned her.
“No!” she shouted.
She strained to hear the chanting of the drums, but there was nothing but the crackle of the fire. Evie covered her ears with her hands and bent over.
“Malcolm!”
The figure took her hand, but she yanked it away. She had to get back to Malcolm, had to return her magic to helping him. Evie ran through the fires, heedless of the flames that scorched her skin and clothes.
She ran for what felt like miles, pushing her body well past its limit, before she found herself in a room devoid of any light. Her legs gave out as she slumped to the ground. Malcolm said she would have to make choices—impossible choices, tempting and alluring choices.
Evie pushed the dark figure from her mind and concentrated on the ancients. It was with them that she could pull the poison of the drough blood from Malcolm.
“Please,” she whispered.
“You turned from us,” the ancients said, their voices surrounding her and echoing until her ears ached.
“I had no choice. I was only trying to help my brother.”
“You should’ve come to us.”
Evie hung her head. “Punish me in any way you want, but please help me save Malcolm.”
“He’s a traitor to his friends, a murderer.”
“Everything he did was for his family. He’s dying because of me!”
The ancients were silent for a moment before they said, “You want to use your magic to kill.”
Evie wanted to deny it, but it was useless. In this dreamlike world of the ancients, they could peer into a Druid’s mind with ease. They saw the truth of every thought, every wish. Every desire.
“Yes. Jason Wallace is evil. He needs to die.”
“The drough cannot be killed.”
Evie felt as if she’d been kicked in the ribs. “There has to be something that can stop him.”
“There is.”
“What?” she demanded when they fell silent. “Tell me!”
But there was no answer. The ancients left her with no hope of healing Malcolm and no answer regarding Jason Wallace.
She started running again, but it was as if she were standing in place. Nothing moved, no light could be found. She was lost, lost in the dark and all her fears closing in around her.
“Evie!”
Her eyes flew open to find Rhys leaning over her as she lay on the floor. A heartbeat later, fierce, debilitating agony ripped through her. The pain was so great she couldn’t take a breath. Every bit of skin felt as if it had been flayed from her body inch by inch.
She tried to shrink away from the torment, but there was no distancing herself from it. All around her she could hear voices but couldn’t think enough to understand what they were saying. She tried to reach out her hand and get back to Malcolm. Her magic could help him, she was sure of it. She just had to find a way past the pain to him.
“No’ now, lass,” Guy said from her other side. His voice was insistent, his tone low. There was a mewling sound she only then realized was coming from her. “You need to rest. We’ll look after Malcolm.”
Evie screamed as a new wave of anguish slammed into her when someone touched her arm.
“Con!” someone bellowed.
Evie closed her eyes and retreated into her mind, anything to get away from the pain. It felt as if she’d fallen into a fire. Even her face hurt.
“Slow, even breaths, Evie,” Rhys urged from beside her.
She tried to tell him it hurt to breathe, but she couldn’t get the words past her lips.
“I can help.”
Evie recognized Phelan’s voice. She didn’t want his help, but it wasn’t as if she could tell him no. Just when she thought the pain might truly kill her, something warm dropped onto her skin, and the agony immediately began to subside.
“I leave for five minutes and come back to see Evie covered in burns. What the hell happened?” Phelan demanded.
Evie opened her eyes to find Phelan staring angrily at Rhys and Guy.
“I doona know,” Guy said.
Rhys ran a hand down his face and let out a breath. “One minute she was sitting on the chair, the next she was on the floor as burns covered her and scorched through her clothing.”
Evie took a deep breath, which gained her everyone’s attention. The pain was diminishing to just a memory, but with it came the realization of just how close to death she had come. Con came running into the room at that moment.
“What happened?” he asked, his brow furrowed deeply.
Evie winced as she sat up and looked down at her arms to find
large holes burned through her black sweater. “I tried to use my magic to heal Malcolm.”
“It was working too,” Rhys said.
“I was with the ancients, and then … I wasn’t.” Evie looked up at Con, and then to Phelan as a shudder went through her. “There was something else with me.”
“What was it?” Constantine asked tersely.
She shrugged, wishing she could forget, but knowing what transpired would be with her until the end of her days. “A person, a thing? I don’t know. It was just there. It was so tempting that I couldn’t help myself. I went to it, but when I tried to leave the flames wouldn’t let me.”
“As soon as she began to burn, all the healing she’d done for Malcolm reversed,” Guy said.
Evie lifted a shaking hand to her forehead. “I just wanted to help Malcolm, but now the ancients won’t aid me. They called me a traitor.”
“Rest, and then try again later,” Phelan said as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “The ancients may just need some time.”
Evie had one last thing to tell them. She resumed her seat in the chair and said, “Wait,” when Con and Guy began to leave. “There’s more.”
“More?” Phelan asked, a frown marring his forehead.
“I asked the ancients if there was some way to end Jason Wallace. They said there was.”
“Well? What is it?” Guy asked.
Evie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “They refused to tell me.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
Phelan stared out the large windows in the sitting room not seeing the rolling green pastures of Dreagan before him. His thoughts were centered on the Druid upstairs.
He hadn’t been able to convince Evie to leave Malcolm’s side. Phelan wanted to think it was because she cared for Malcolm, but he knew how deceptive droughs could be.
A wave of exquisite, seductive magic washed over him, instantly making his cock harden. He turned on his heel and stalked to the front door to greet Aisley. As he opened it, Charon parked his Mercedes CL65 AMG Coupe and Aisley climbed out of the back and rushed to him.
“What happened?” she asked once she had her arms wrapped tightly around him.
Phelan squeezed her, his gaze meeting Charon’s. “Malcolm isna doing well. Neither Con nor I have been able to heal him as we should’ve.”
“No’ what I wanted to hear,” Charon said as he walked up with Laura.
Aisley pulled out of Phelan’s arms and cupped his cheek. “What do you need from me?”
“Actually, there is something you and Laura might be able to help me with.”
He walked them into the manor and told them everything that had happened after he’d reached Dreagan, as well as why Malcolm had been helping Evie.
“Evie,” Laura repeated the name and frowned. “What’s her surname?”
Phelan shrugged. “I didna ask. Why?”
“Just thinking,” Laura said and shrugged it off.
Charon took his wife’s hand in his. “I’m more concerned with how Evie and Malcolm met.”
“That’s no’ a part of the story I learned,” Phelan said as they started up the stairs.
“You’re hurt he didn’t contact you,” Aisley said, knowing him better than anyone else.
Phelan couldn’t deny it. “Aye. Guy reckons it’s because of Evie.”
“Is she drough?” Charon asked. “I doona feel drough magic as I should.”
“It’s…” Phelan hesitated. “It’s difficult to explain. I sense drough magic in her, but it’s no’ overwhelming like with others.”
Laura reached the first landing and said, “Maybe it takes some time for the black magic to build up and be sensed by a Warrior.”
Aisley shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not how it works. Once the ceremony is completed, you’re drough. There’s no waiting period, no buildup. The force of the black magic is there waiting to be used.”
“Guy did say Malcolm tried to stop the ceremony but was too late.” Phelan put his hand on Aisley’s lower back and guided her up to the third level.
Charon’s lips twisted in frustration. “Obviously Malcolm failed if I can feel any part of drough magic.”
Aisley stopped at the third-floor landing and faced the three of them. “If Evie really had no choice, we should give her a chance. Malcolm saw something in her. We need to do the same.”
“Precisely,” Laura said. “Jason has a way of twisting the truth to suit his needs. We have no idea what he told Evie to get her to perform the ceremony.”
“He used her brother,” Phelan said. “Brian is all Evie has.”
Charon blew out a breath. “Just as Larena is all Malcolm has left. Perhaps that’s what drew Malcolm to Evie.”
“Which we won’t know until he wakes.” Aisley gave a reassuring smile to Phelan and turned to the hallway.
Phelan led the group to where Malcolm and Evie were. Rhys stood at the door, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression bleak.
“She’s no’ said a word,” he told Phelan as they approached. “She’s no’ eaten either.”
Aisley smiled a greeting at Rhys before she walked into the room, Laura right on her heels. Phelan and Charon took positions across from the doorway so they could watch what happened inside.
“You’re wrong no’ to trust her,” Rhys said.
Charon turned his gaze to the Dragon King. “After all the run-ins with droughs, it’s hard no’ to distrust them.”
“What of Isla? What of Aisley? Both are droughs.”
“No’ Aisley anymore,” Phelan interjected.
Rhys dropped his arms to his sides. “So there are exceptions, just no’ for Evie.”
“Why are you defending her?” Charon asked.
Rhys turned his head to glance into the room. “You two were no’ there. You didna hear Malcolm talk of Evie, and you didna see her stand up to Wallace. It took Guy, Hal, and me to get her away from Urquhart as Malcolm asked. She wanted to get back to him.”
“You can no’ believe everything a drough says.”
Rhys’s aqua-colored eyes landed on Charon with deadly intent. “I’ve been around long enough, Warrior, to recognize when a human is lying. They are no’ that good at it. Evie wasna faking anything.”
“Maybe, Dragon, but we’ve been dealing with droughs for many centuries. We can no’ help but be skeptical,” Phelan calmly stated.
Phelan met Charon’s guarded gaze. Malcolm had known how Warriors would react to Evie. It all made sense now why he’d contacted the dragons. The Dragon Kings had seen what Malcolm hadn’t wanted the Warriors to see—himself.
* * *
Evie stood when she saw the two women come into the room. It was on impulse that she took a stance to guard Malcolm.
“We’re friends,” said the one with the long, wavy black hair and fawn-colored eyes. “I’m Aisley. And this is Laura.” She motioned to the woman beside her. “We’re Druids.”
Evie nodded to Aisley before turning her gaze to Laura and her unusual moss-green eyes. “I spent many years of my life thinking I was the only Druid. Now, within days I’ve encountered three.”
“You look dead on your feet,” Laura said in her English accent and motioned to the chair.
Evie sat once more and rubbed her eyes. “Are you from MacLeod Castle?”
“How do you know of the castle?” Aisley asked.
She glanced at Malcolm. “He told me. I thought I knew all there was to know of Druids, but either my grandmother didn’t know, or chose not to tell me.”
Laura squatted beside her. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, the end of it draping over her shoulder. “We don’t live at MacLeod Castle, but we are part of the group of Druids.”
“We heard you had an encounter with Jason,” Aisley said. “He’s my cousin, Evie. A nastier man never lived. I’m sorry he’s hurt you.”
Evie couldn’t look at the Druids anymore. She focused on Malcolm and tried
not to feel the hatred for Jason that threatened to consume her. “He kidnapped my brother. Brian is mute. I thought he was safe from everything in school. It never crossed my mind that someone would go after him.”
“He’s doing it to get to you.”
Laura said, “Aisley’s right. Jason wants you for something, Evie, and he won’t stop until he has you.”
“He’s waiting for me at his mansion.”
“What?” Aisley and Laura said in unison.
Evie closed her eyes and placed her hand on Malcolm’s leg. “Jason said he’d release Brian if I came to him.”
The sound of footfalls moving from the rug onto the hardwood floor and then onto another rug sounded as Aisley walked around the other side of the bed. “You can’t be seriously considering going to him.”
“What choice do I have?” Evie opened her eyes to look at Aisley. “If I wait, he could kill Brian, or do this,” she said and motioned to Malcolm with her other hand. “The only reason I’m holding it together as I am is because I know Malcolm has a chance to pull through. Brian won’t.”
Laura rubbed her hand up and down Evie’s back. “It’ll be all right. Trust us, Evie. Aisley and I have each had confrontations with Jason.”
“And it’s never pretty,” Aisley mumbled angrily.
Evie felt her eyes prickle, but there were no more tears to shed. “You know I’m now a … a…”
“Drough,” Laura supplied. “Yes, we know.”
Aisley gave a frustrated shake of her head. “Jason has a plan for you. It’s why he forced you into doing the ceremony. I just wish I knew what that plan was so we could try and stay a step ahead of him.”
“I expected you two to distrust me as Phelan has.”
Aisley’s head jerked to her. “He didn’t,” she said in a low, dangerous voice.
Evie glanced at Laura and shrugged. “It’s understandable. His friend was hurt. I’m to blame.”
Aisley stalked out of the room. Evie watched as she grabbed Phelan’s arm and dragged him out of sight.
“Up until a few weeks ago, Aisley was drough,” Laura said.
Evie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? So is there a way to reverse it? Malcolm said there wasn’t.”
