by Donna Grant
Instead, she kept jogging over hills and through valleys. Occasionally she’d stop by a stream to drink and rest, but hour after hour, she kept moving.
“Dang it,” she muttered when she tripped over a root and raised her hands to stop her face from slamming into the ground when she pitched forward.
Laura tried to make herself get up and keep moving, but her body was exhausted. She managed to sit up, then lean back against the trunk of a pine.
The light filtering through the thick canopy of limbs dimmed the sunlight. The summer sun wouldn’t officially set until around midnight, but it was well into evening. Sounds she hadn’t heard in the forest before grew louder. If she hadn’t been so tired, she might have been frightened.
As it was, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. That didn’t stop the same swell of emotion to begin within her again. It was the same feeling, the same swirling of something bright and powerful that happened at the cabin.
Her skin felt stretched, her body pulled in a thousand different directions. Laura slammed her palms onto the ground and focused on keeping herself calm and breathing evenly so as not to blow anything up and alert Jason to where she was.
Every time the bright swirling mass felt as if it were going to shatter her, she pushed it through her palms and out of her body.
She was just drifting off to sleep when she heard the steady beat of distant drums.
And the beautiful chanting that seemed to call, to beckon.
“Laura…”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Nay,” Aiden repeated for the fourth time. “We’re close. Give Britt a few more days.”
Quinn slammed his hand onto his thigh as he sat at the tiny table in the even smaller hotel room. “Did you hear nothing your uncle said?”
Aiden looked at Fallon and nodded. “I heard every word. I also saw what the drough blood Jason is using does to you Warriors. I’d rather risk my life to learn the answers than see any of you suffer as Charon and Malcolm did this last time.”
Before Sonya’s healing magic had been able to work. That along with the other Warriors using their blood. But this last time with Jason Wallace, something had changed.
It had shaken Aiden to his core. He’d taken for granted his father’s immortality and ability to heal. He’d also taken for granted the magic of the Druids. He couldn’t do that anymore.
“Aiden,” Fallon began.
But Aiden held up a hand to stop him as he turned and looked at his father. “I’ve kept Britt separated from everyone. I’ve also made her promise no’ to tell a soul what she’s working on.”
“Do you actually think she’ll keep that promise?” Quinn asked.
“I do.”
Quinn growled as he scrunched up his face. “You’re confusing lust with truth.”
“I need you to trust me on this.”
“Do you know what would happen to me and your mother if we lost you? It’d destroy us.”
Aiden stared into the same dark green eyes as his own and said, “And how do you think I’d feel if I lost you? This war we’re fighting has already taken casualties. Jason Wallace willna stop, and he’s upped the game. We need to do the same.”
“I hate to agree with the lad, but I do,” Galen said from the door, where he lounged against the wall.
Aiden hadn’t even heard him come into the hotel room. Still, he wasn’t sure his argument would win against his father and uncle. And even though Galen wasn’t technically blood, he’d grown up calling every Warrior in the castle uncle, and every Druid aunt.
Family was family, and Aiden was happy to have Galen’s support.
“Damn,” Fallon said as he turned away to sit on the end of the bed. “Quinn, your son has a valid argument. Arran told me how close we were to losing Charon. And Larena…”
Aiden swallowed past the lump in his throat as he thought of Fallon’s wife. Larena had died, but somehow—through the magic or Warrior blood given to her—she miraculously came back to them.
“I doona want you to go through that,” Fallon continued after clearing his throat. “I doona want any of us to go through that.”
Galen glanced out the window of their hotel, which just happened to be across from Britt’s flat. He grabbed an empty chair and moved it near the door before he sank onto it. “We can no longer count on the magic of the Druids or our own blood to save each other if we’re hit with drough blood. We need to have another plan.”
Aiden watched his father as he stood with his hands braced on the small table, his head hanging down. For long, tense moments Quinn stood quietly as the rest of them watched.
Finally, Quinn lifted his head and straightened. He caught Aiden’s gaze and said, “All right. You’ve all made your points, but if we’re going to do this, we do this the right way.”
“Which is?” Fallon asked.
“We stay close to Aiden and Britt at all times. Wallace has shown he can strike when least expected. I refuse to return to Marcail and tell her we’ve lost our son.”
“Agreed,” Galen said. “I’ve already spoken to Reaghan, and she thinks we have to keep an eye on Britt even if we leave tonight.”
Aiden was relieved in his father’s decision, but he knew things had gotten more complicated for them all.
“Britt needs to know everything.” Aiden didn’t break when three pairs of eyes pinned him.
“Why?” was all Quinn asked.
Aiden moved to sit in the chair opposite Galen. “She’s been asking since I first began working with her. The more she knows, the more she might be able to tell us. Not to mention, it would help her work more efficiently and faster.”
“It would also help if we had some drough blood,” Fallon stated.
Galen smirked. “Shall I go pay Wallace a visit to see if he’ll give us a pint?”
They all shared a laugh, but it quickly died.
“I know this is a difficult situation,” Aiden said. “No one but Druids and Warriors are supposed to know about us, but Jason has begun to use mortals. We doona have any other choice but to do the same. This is their war, too, even if they doona know it.”
Quinn folded his arms over his chest as he straightened. “Aye, but we’re the only ones losing people.”
“Whatever happened today, Wallace lost four droughs,” Fallon said. “Druids are no’ easy to find anymore. He willna be able to replace them quickly.”
Galen leaned forward and put his forearms on his knees. “How is Charon holding up?”
“No’ well,” Fallon said with a long sigh. “He’s focused on finding Laura, but he’s rattled about Jason using her.”
Quinn dropped his arms and leaned back against the wall. “That’s twice in a matter of weeks Charon’s had drough blood inside him. I recall all too clearly what that felt like.”
“It’s hell,” Galen stated.
Fallon’s lips flattened. “And the drough blood Jason is using does more damage to us than anything before. I can no’ imagine what Charon went through either time.”
“Or how it affected him,” Aiden said. The three Warriors looked at him, causing Arran to shrug. “No’ a single one of you asked how he or Malcolm were doing.”
Quinn’s forehead creased in a deep frown. “We did, Aiden. Both men said they were doing fine.”
“And I’ll bet any amount of magic that both are lying. How much blood was Charon given by the other Warriors in his wounds? Phelan, whose blood is able to heal any type of injury, wouldna even work to revive Charon. There is something more going on than just more pain.”
“Oh, fuck,” Galen murmured.
Fallon stood and gave Aiden a quick hug. “Work fast, lad. Wallace’s attention is on Laura and Charon. Doona give him a reason to come here. No’ yet, at least.”
“Be safe,” Aiden told his uncle before Fallon teleported out of the room.
Quinn pushed away from the wall and strode to the door. “I think it’s time I did another check around Britt’s flat.”
; Aiden waited until his father was gone before he sank onto the bed and dropped his head into his hands.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Galen said. “It’s hard, I know, but staying here is the right call, lad.”
“Is it? I’ve put Britt’s life in danger. I’m keeping you and my father away from your wives.”
There was a creak as Galen shifted in the chair. “Aiden, when will you learn that as Warriors, we do whatever is needed to keep the ones we love safe? Reaghan understands this, as does your mother.”
Aiden lifted his head and looked at Galen.
“Besides, you needed this. Just as you need Britt. Doona think we have no’ noticed how you look at her. Take my advice, lad, and doona let happiness slip through your fingers.”
Aiden looked out the window to Britt’s flat and saw her shadow walk past her window. All he could think about was her. Her smile, her amazing blue eyes, and that wealth of golden hair.
“Nay. I willna let it slip through my fingers.”
* * *
Laura smiled and wrapped her arms around Charon. His hands were on her body, touching her as only he could. His weight shifted atop her as the blunt head of his arousal sought entry into her body.
She had waited for him for so long, but finally he was hers to caress, to hold.
His body rocked over hers, the long length of his cock sliding deep within her. She moaned, her hands tightening on his back.
He whispered her name, soft and seductively. She opened her eyes and his dark gaze caught hers as he thrust again and again inside her.
The climax was close. Each stroke from Charon sent her hurtling toward release until it …
Laura gasped as she jerked awake. She scanned the forest, thankful that the sun had risen again. Her body still hummed from the delicious, erotic dream she’d been having.
But it was just a dream. As much as she wanted it to be real, Charon wasn’t with her.
“Oh, Charon,” she whispered as she slumped back against the tree.
Another sound to her left got her attention, and she knew whatever it was had woken her out of her good dream for a reason. For several heartbeats she waited, listening, but didn’t see or hear anything else.
Something brushed against the back of her hand, and she looked down to see flowers had sprung up between her fingers and all around her palms that were still flat on the ground.
Laura jumped to her feet as she stared at the two patches of wildflowers that hadn’t been there when she stopped the night before.
She glanced at her hands. “What the bloody hell is going on?”
The sound of a twig breaking had her swinging her head in that direction. The sound came from the same path she’d traveled yesterday.
She wanted to think it might be Phelan, but Phelan wouldn’t be sneaking around. He would be looking for her, possibly calling her name.
Unless he knew she was being tracked by Jason and the others.
“Bugger it,” she whispered.
Did she stay and see who it was? Did she chance being found by Wallace? Or did she run again?
Fear won out.
Laura moved as silently and quickly as she could through the woods. Sunlight broke through the branches of the trees, leaving many shady spots where someone could hide.
She was passing just such a spot when someone stepped in front of her.
“Ow,” she said as she barreled into them.
Huge hands wrapped around her arms and she found herself staring up at the face of the man who had battled Charon. The same man whose skin had been a pale green. Her mouth gaped open, and she struggled to get away but he held her easily.
There was no excitement in his gaze at capturing her, only cold acceptance of how things were. Which made Laura’s stomach plummet to her feet.
Because where this brute was, Jason wasn’t far behind.
“Well, well, well,” Jason Wallace said as he stepped out from behind the man holding her. “Did you snare something, Dale?”
Laura struggled again to get loose, but Dale’s hold didn’t relent. He kept a firm grip on her, not too tight to hurt her, but not loose enough that she could break free.
“Did Charon tell you that you were a Druid?”
Jason’s question stilled her. Laura looked into his chilly blue eyes. What had he just said? Surely he was wrong. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re a Druid, Laura. Charon knew all along, but he used his power to tamp down your magic.”
She frowned, not believing a word he was saying. “You’re lying.”
“Do you deny that you were the one who blew up the cabin?”
“I don’t have magic,” she repeated, hoping it was true, because she couldn’t add that to her growing list of problems. And neither denying nor admitting to blowing up the cabin was her best bet.
Jason laughed. “Oh, but you do. You doona seemed shocked at hearing about Druids. I’m guessing because Charon told you about us, right?”
She refused to answer, which only made Jason smile. Laura wanted to slap that smirk off his face. He’d hurt Charon—twice—hunted her, and did only God knew what else.
“I see I’m correct about him telling you of Druids,” Jason said with a grin. “Did he tell you what he is? Did he tell you he’s a Warrior with a primeval god inside him? Did he tell you he was evil?”
Laura numbly moved her head side to side.
“Ah, then I suppose he didna bother to tell you he’s the bad guy in all of this? I had Ben find you, dear Laura, to save you from Charon.”
She wanted to scream for him to stop, to claw out his eyes. But mostly she wanted Charon to come for her.
“Ben wasn’t there to help me. He hurt me,” she said, and showed him the bruise on her cheek.
Jason shrugged and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “Ben, unfortunately, got passionate in his zeal to get you away from Charon. But regardless. You are a Druid.”
“I’d know if I was a Druid.” She didn’t want to listen to him. His words were like poison infecting her brain.
Or were they?
“You’ve heard the chanting and drums, have you no’?” Jason asked.
Laura squeezed her eyes closed.
“That’s the ancients calling to you, Laura. Let them in. Let them show you what your magic can do.”
“You’re evil,” she said as her eyes flew open. “You wanted to kill me. I heard what you told Charon.”
Jason scratched his chin. “When you’re dealing with evil, a person will say anything to get a rise out of them. Charon and the other Warriors from MacLeod Castle are a bane upon this earth. They’re immortal creatures, but they can be killed. By drough blood.”
“Droughs are evil. They use black magic,” Laura repeated Charon’s words.
Jason tsked softly. “Sweet Laura, I see Charon has told you wrong once more. It’s the mies who are evil. They are the ones who use black magic. The droughs are the good ones in this war we’ve been fighting for centuries. I’m no’ the first to fight the Warriors, but I’ll be the last. I’ll be the one who kills them once and for all.”
Laura looked at Dale, who watched her with no emotion on his face. His bald head and dark goatee gave him a sinister look.
“You have a Warrior working with you,” she pointed out.
“I do,” Jason said. “He wants to undo what has been done to him, so he’s helping me.”
She shook her head, feeling … peculiar. It was almost as if someone were in her mind, pushing this way and that.
Laura gave her head another shake and fought to hold on to thoughts of Charon, of all the good he had done for Ferness and the people. How could she believe what Jason said when Charon was willing to sacrifice himself for her? Nothing evil would do that.
“Evil never looks like we expect,” Jason said, as if reading her mind. “They are beautiful, gorgeous creatures who worm their way into our lives and trick us. You’ve been tricked, Laura. Let me show you
the way,” Jason said as he held out his hand for her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Near Inverness
Malcolm stood on the shore of Loch Ness and watched the tourist boats leave the dock, the announcer’s voice blaring over the speakers while the water amplified the sound.
But Malcolm didn’t need the aid of the water to hear the voice. He was able to do that all on his own, thanks to the god inside him.
He squatted and dipped his fingers in the cool water. Loch Ness had always been dark. The stories of some creature living in the depths had been around long before Malcolm ever entered this world.
“Are they true, though?” he murmured.
The stories his nurse had told him of Druids and Warriors were meant to frighten him and keep him on the path of good. But they had been truth.
Well, partly. His old nurse hadn’t known the entire truth. Yet all stories originated somewhere. It left him wondering if there was a Nessie, and if she felt as out of place as he did.
Malcolm slowly released a deep breath as his mobile phone rang. He knew without looking that it was Larena who called.
His cousin liked to check up on him. He didn’t have the heart to ask her to stop. Every time he spoke to her, she begged him to return to MacLeod Castle and once more be a part of the family of Warriors and Druids there.
Larena didn’t understand that he couldn’t. Just being within those ancient stone walls made him feel as if his skin were ripping at the seams.
It wasn’t the potent magic of the Druids. It wasn’t the Warriors and their power.
It was what he had done while in service to Deirdre.
The man he’d been, the one who had sacrificed his very lands to protect Larena, was gone. He was a distant memory, and one that faded every day.
Malcolm looked down at his hand. It would take the briefest of thoughts to have his claws shoot from his fingers. The deep burgundy his god favored hid the stain of blood, but Malcolm knew it was there.
He had killed Duncan. Deirdre had commanded it, and Malcolm hadn’t hesitated. He’d expected Duncan’s twin, Ian, to exact his revenge. It was his due.
