Midnight's Master

by Donna Grant

  “I’ve found you three who might interest you. They were fighting. It’s called extreme fighting. I watched these men. They’re verra good.”

  Deirdre walked to him and ran a long fingernail gently down his cheek. “Perfect. Shall we go and see them?”

  She followed Malcolm as he led her to where the men waited in the cavern. With one look, Deirdre was beyond pleased. The men were tall and well honed. Their muscles bulged from use, and the scars on their bodies attested to their skill and wit at winning.

  “I’m told you three are good at what you do,” she said.

  One whistled, his gaze appreciative as he looked her over, and slowly got to his feet. “We do all right.”

  “An English accent?” she asked, looking at Malcolm.

  He shrugged. “Other things,” he reminded her.

  Deirdre smiled and looked at the other two. “Are either of you Scottish?”

  “We both are,” the middle one with ginger hair answered.

  “Perfect. Malcolm, please escort our English friend to the guest chamber while I have a little chat with these other two.”

  She waited until Malcolm and the other man were gone before she smiled. Deirdre lifted her hands and felt the rush of her black magic rise to her fingertips. The spell she had memorized centuries earlier to release the gods inside the men tumbled from her lips.

  At first nothing happened, and Deirdre feared neither man would become a Warrior. Then the ginger-haired giant clutched his stomach and fell to his knees while the other man looked on.

  Deirdre watched in glee as the god inside her new Warrior awoke. The man threw back his head and bellowed in pain as his bones popped and broke, only to heal instantly as his god stretched within him.

  “What the bloody Hell is going on?” the second man shouted.

  When her new Warrior leaned forward on his hands, his body taking in huge gulps of air, Deirdre turned to the second man. “What is your name?”

  “Toby.”

  “Well, Toby. You may not be a Warrior, but you can be of use to me.”

  Toby took a step back. “I’m no’ sure I want any part of this.”

  “Too late.” Deirdre held up her hand, her magic shooting from her fingers and halting Toby where he stood. “Look in my eyes, Toby. Go on. Look.”

  When she had the dim-witted fool locked in her gaze, Deirdre used her magic to turn his mind to hers, a vessel for her to command. “Who do you work for, Toby?”

  “You,” he murmured.

  “Good. Now, return to your home. I need men. Special men. They must be unbeatable. The kind of men you don’t see every day. When you find these men, I want you to bring them here.”

  “How?”

  She shrugged. “Use whatever means you must. Just bring them here unharmed. Malcolm will give you plenty of coin for you to sell in exchange for whatever they’re using for money.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “Go, Toby. And hurry.” Deirdre looked at her new Warrior and found he had gained his feet. “I had hoped one of you would become a Warrior.”

  “What have you done to me?” he said between gasping breaths.

  She smiled, her gaze taking in the deep orange color of his skin, claws, and eyes. “I’ll explain everything. First, what’s your name?”

  “Charlie.”

  “Well, Charlie. Welcome to your new home. You are a Warrior, and the voice you hear inside you is a god so ancient his name has been lost to the ages. He will give you immortality. He will give you power. But always, you will be mine to control.”

  Charlie looked over her shoulder and bared his fangs. Deirdre laughed and waited as Malcolm walked to her side.

  “So you’ve found another Warrior,” Malcolm said.

  “Nay, you have,” she said. “Take Charlie to the others and show him what it means to be one of my Warriors. I will send our English friend out to collect more men for me.”

  Malcolm motioned to Charlie with his chin. “I gave Toby enough coin to last him awhile. He said he knows some men who might be what you’re looking for.”

  Deirdre rubbed her hands together. “Good. By the way, we’ll be capturing Declan first. I want him dead.”

  * * *

  It was almost one in the morning before talk turned to the Book of Craigan and the artifact. Gwynn tried to stifle her yawns, but the day was catching up with her fast.

  There had been much celebrating with the arrival of the other three Warriors. It seems each had arrived in the present year at different times.

  Camdyn had been there for almost a month, while Ramsey had arrived two weeks ago, and Arran had just gotten there the day before. They had met up on their way to MacLeod Castle.

  Gwynn was happy for Logan and the rest of the castle. The only one missing now was Ian. No one mentioned it, but she saw it in everyone’s faces. There was no doubt the people of MacLeod Castle would find Ian and bring him home.

  Logan had related their tale to the three new arrivals. There had been countless questions directed at her, which she answered as best she could. Many involved her magic, which she didn’t know how to answer.

  That’s when Ramsey had asked about the book. Gwynn hadn’t wanted to get it out again. It was a force she couldn’t resist, and even though she knew she had to look through it, she also knew she could never do it alone. Because she might never come out.

  “Wait,” Cara said. “I want to know what happened at Declan’s mansion. Everyone arrived here, then Gwynn saw the book and chaos reigned.”

  Gwynn gave an apologetic smile to Cara. “I’m sorry.”

  Marcail shook her head. “No need to apologize.”

  “I agree,” Larena said. “I briefly told Fallon about the mansion, but there are things everyone needs to know. First, Declan is holding a Druid.”

  “What?” Isla said, her ice blue eyes turning deadly.

  “A mie,” Larena continued. “He has her chained below the house in what can only be described as a dungeon. It’s cold and dark down there, and he had done some kind of magic because she believed there were spiders crawling on her when there were none.”

  “That bastard,” Sonya ground out.

  Broc wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “Did you try to release her, Larena?”

  Larena nodded. “There was magic barring the cell door. Whoever she is, she tried to resist whatever it was he wanted. In the end he got what he wanted, but he punished her as well.”

  Gwynn saw Isla’s hands clenched on the table. One look around the table told Gwynn that everyone wanted to free this Druid.

  “How do we get her out?” Gwynn asked.

  Isla’s chest heaved with anger. “We do whatever it takes. Even if it means we Druids attack him.”

  “Nay,” Logan said.

  Gwynn cringed when Isla turned her ice-blue eyes to Logan.

  Logan sighed. “Isla, we will get her out. But we cannot allow any of you near Wallace. You have no idea what he’s capable of.”

  “Logan’s correct,” Larena said. “From the outside of the mansion, you can feel his black magic. But inside … inside is like you stepped into Hell itself.”

  Gwynn shifted in her seat. “I didn’t feel that at his mansion. Did you?” she asked Logan.

  “Nay.” Logan raked a hand through his honey-colored hair. “Tonight was different though. If I had felt that kind of evil when we drove up to his mansion, we would never have gotten out of the car.”

  “What do we do now?” Arran asked.

  All eyes turned to Fallon at the head of the table. He leaned back in his chair, his elbows on the arms of his chair and his fingers linked over his stomach.

  “There are several things that need be done,” he said. “Gwynn and Logan need to find the Tablet of Orn. We need to free the mie from Wallace’s house. We also need to find and kill both Deirdre and Wallace.”

  As soon as Fallon finished speaking, the hall erupted with talk as everyone gave their opinions on what should be done fir
st.

  Gwynn found her eyes pulled to Logan. He reached beneath the table and took her hand.

  “How soon can you read through the book?” he asked.

  “A few days.”

  “I doona know if we have that long.”

  “Then I will read faster.”

  He nodded as Fallon slammed his hand on the table for quiet.

  “Logan,” Fallon said. “What do you think?”

  Logan’s hazel eyes glanced Gwynn’s way before he said, “I think Gwynn and I should head to Eigg to retrieve the artifact. The same time a group storms Wallace’s house to free the Druid and Gwynn’s father.”

  “Declan willna be able to be at two places at once,” Lucan said with a nod. “I like it.”

  “You’re forgetting Deirdre,” Ramsey added.

  Hayden frowned. “I’ll go with Logan and Gwynn to the isle. They’ll need someone to watch their backs.”

  “Include me in that as well,” Ramsey said.

  Fallon looked around the table and nodded. “It’s decided then. As soon as Gwynn can decipher the book, we’ll put the plan into motion.”

  Gwynn rose and walked to the book where she gathered it in her arms and started up the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” Logan asked from behind her.

  “We don’t have a lot of time. I need to read.”

  He took the book from her and put his hand on her lower back as he guided her up the stairs. “What you need is rest.”

  Gwynn’s blood began to pound as Logan’s hand drifted lower to idly play with her bottom as she walked. By the time they reached her room, her body was on fire.

  Logan shut and locked the door behind him. He set aside the book on the table next to the fireplace, then after a long look at her, knelt and stoked the fire until the blaze crackled in the silence.

  Gwynn started forward to claim the book when Logan’s hands snagged her around her waist and pulled her down next to him on the thick rug.

  “I said you need to rest,” he murmured as he nuzzled her ear.

  Gwynn drank in the desire she saw in Logan’s eyes. He said “rest,” but he obviously had plans for anything but.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Logan groaned at the sweet, exotic taste of Gwynn’s lips. She was an addiction, an obsession, and one he would gladly enjoy every day for the rest of his immortal life.

  Except, did he have the right?

  He knew he wasn’t a good man. A good man would never have gone to Deirdre.

  Yet, for all his deeds, both decent and foul, Logan couldn’t find it in himself to let Gwynn go. He wanted her with a passion that bordered on insanity.

  His balls tightened when she raked her nails gently along his scalp before threading her fingers in his hair. The fire that roared next to them was nothing compared to the inferno their desire ignited.

  It scorched, it burned.

  It consumed.

  And Logan willingly—and readily—went into the flames.

  He tucked Gwynn’s mouth-watering curves against him and rolled so that he was on top. Logan deepened the kiss and let his hand caress down her side until it rested on her flared hip.

  Logan slipped his fingers beneath her sweater so he could touch her silky smooth skin. She moaned into his mouth and clutched her arms about his neck tighter.

  Her skin was warm beneath his hands, her body pliant and soft. He showed her in his kiss how much he wanted her, how much she meant to him. He might not ever be able to claim her as his own, but he would claim her body this night. This night, he would pretend the future was theirs.

  He would pretend that he was the right man for Gwynn.

  Logan skimmed his hand up her flat belly until he found her breast. His cupped the orb and gently massaged it. He circled his finger around her nipple through the delicate lace of her bra. She ground her hips against him, her moan music to his ears.

  He rolled her turgid nipple between his fingers and lightly pinched. Gwynn’s back bowed as she tore her mouth from his and gave a soft cry.

  They reached for each other’s clothes, tugging, tearing, and laughing as they stripped each other rolling around on the rug. Logan gathered her in his arms and slowly, seductively ran his finger down the curve of her spine.

  Gwynn smiled as her eyes drifted shut. He leaned in and took her mouth in a scorching kiss, one meant to conquer and dominate. To capture.

  She met him kiss for kiss, giving as much as he demanded. He’d never met anyone who matched his passions, never imagined there would be a woman for him. Yet here she was. In his arms.

  Logan held her hips as he ground into her. Her soft gasp filled the chamber. He wanted to be inside her, to feel her damp heat as he filled her.

  He used his knees to part her legs and settled between them. It was his turn to moan when her legs loosely wrapped around him. His arousal pulsed with need, eager to plunge inside her.

  But not yet. This time he would take it slow and savor every moment.

  Gwynn sucked in a breath when Logan’s fingers skimmed her softness. His masterful fingers found her and thrust into her aching sex.

  She raised her hips to meet his fingers and sighed. He withdrew only to tease her clitoris with slow, teasing circles. Her need gathered and tightened with each flick of his fingers over her.

  He was merciless as his slow teasing turned to moving his thumb back and forth over her swollen clitoris faster and faster. Gwynn could feel her climax building. Her body thrummed with it, sought it. And just when she was about to give in, Logan rose up over her.

  She opened her eyes to see him kneeling between her legs, his cock jutting upward with a drop glistening on the swollen head.

  Gwynn reached for him, wanting to feel his arousal in her hands. Her fingers wrapped around his hot erection. She softly squeezed and smiled when she heard his groan.

  She pumped her hands up and down his length. Before she could set up a rhythm, Logan pried her hands away and kissed each palm.

  “I wasn’t done,” she said.

  He smiled, and it sent the butterflies churning in her stomach. “Tonight, Gwynn Austin, you are mine.”

  His words, whispered in a deep, husky voice both erotic and demanding, made whatever argument she might have had fade into nothing.

  No man, ever, had spoken to her like that. Like he had dreamed of having her in his arms. Like he wanted the night to last an eternity, just so he could spend it with her.

  Men like that didn’t exist except in movies and books. But somehow, one was with her. And making love to her.

  Gwynn looked into Logan’s hazel eyes and knew that tonight would be special. It would be a night she would never forget, a night that would be branded into her soul.

  An unsteady breath passed through her lips as Logan’s heated gaze swept down her body, lingering on her breasts. He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around one nipple and laved, licked the sensitive peak until Gwynn’s head was thrashing from side to side.

  He repeated the process on her other breast, leaving Gwynn a quivering mass of need. Her body was on fire, each nerve ending bunched tight. She lifted her hips, seeking to grind against him, but his hands held her hips down. She whimpered and dug her nails into the rug.

  Logan kissed between the valley of her breasts, then down her body. He licked her navel and nipped at each hip bone before he lifted her hips up to meet his mouth.

  She cried out at the first swipe of his tongue over her sex. Gwynn was powerless to move as he held her steady and used his tongue to raise her need even higher.

  Logan watched the pleasure on Gwynn’s face while he feasted on her sex. He felt her muscles tighten as she neared her orgasm once again. With her eyes closed and soft cries falling from her beautiful lips, Logan had never seen a more stunning picture.

  He continued to lick her until the last possible moment before she peaked. When he drew his mouth away, she opened her eyes.

  Her glorious violet eyes were glowing, just as t
hey had when she had looked at the book. Logan lowered her hips and guided his throbbing cock to her entrance. She gasped as the engorged head of his erection pressed into her.

  Logan slowly filled her, inch by inch, until she had taken all of him. He closed his eyes at the exquisite feel of Gwynn’s sheath surrounding him.

  He began to move within her, leisurely at first, then steadily increasing his tempo until he was driving into her. Her nails dug into his back and her legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to sink even deeper.

  She met him thrust for thrust, prolonging their wild ride. She moaned, her head tilted back in pleasure. Something shifted inside Logan, digging deep into his soul, telling Logan he needed Gwynn. Not just to satisfy his body, but to erase his guilt and heal him of his demons.

  He thrust harder, faster, deeper as he felt her rise, heard her gasp as she shattered.

  Her strangled cry as she came apart beneath him made him smile in satisfaction. But it was just one of many he planned to wring from her that night.

  Gwynn had never felt anything so marvelous. Her limbs were liquid, her body not her own. She cracked open her eyes when she felt Logan pull out of her.

  He smiled as his large hands caught her hips and turned her onto her stomach. In the next instant, he had her on her hands and knees. Gwynn looked over her shoulder to find him kneeling behind her.

  Barely able to hold herself up, Logan filled her from behind with a single thrust. Her already frayed nerves sizzled with this new pleasure.

  He withdrew only to thrust into her again. Gwynn closed her eyes and gave herself over to him. She gloried in the feel of his groin meeting her sensitive bottom, of hearing the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

  Gwynn leaned back against him, but once more Logan held her hips in his firm hands, refusing to allow her to move. She was helpless against the onslaught of hot, hard cock thrusting repeatedly into her.

  Desire swept through her anew, the blaze that had never died out flaring once more. It swept toward her, engulfing her in the mind-blowing pleasure.

  Logan kept her still, immobile as he pounded desperately into her. He bent around her, his mouth at her neck as he roared and thrust once more.