Midnight's Kiss

by Donna Grant

  Arran turned and walked to his room, where he found a long bag hanging from the door of his closet. He flipped open the paper attached to find Saffron’s note that said: Hope you like it!

  He unzipped the bag and sighed as he looked at the black jacket and bow tie that hung from the hanger. The jacket was short and had a black vest to go underneath it and on top of the white shirt.

  It wasn’t until Arran removed the jacket, vest, and shirt that he saw the kilt. For the first time that evening, he truly smiled.

  “It’s no’ a true kilt as I was hoping, Saffron, but this’ll do, lass. This’ll do.”

  He ran his fingers over the MacCarrick plaid and thought about his family, of his life before he’d become a Warrior. How simply he’d lived and loved.

  Nothing had turned out as he’d expected, yet somehow fate had given him something larger than he could have imagined. It had given him a family with the others at MacLeod Castle. It had given him brothers and sisters, even if they weren’t blood.

  The bonds that held them all together were stronger than any other. They were bonds that could never be broken.

  Arran reached for his phone to call Saffron and thank her when he got a text from a shop dealer that specialized in antiques. The old man had hardly been able to stand because he was so frail, and he hadn’t wanted to talk to Arran at first.

  But Arran managed to win over the old man’s nephew with his knowledge. Now, the text from the nephew said the old man wanted to see him.

  Arran glanced out his door to Ronnie’s. He’d wanted to be here when she got back. All day he’d waited to take her in his arms and kiss her, and he wasn’t going to let another opportunity pass. Not with a woman like Ronnie.

  Yet the idea of discovering something regarding the items they’d found and what the monsters were was too important to pass up.

  “Damn,” Arran mumbled as he hastily answered the text, promising to be there in ten minutes.

  Before he departed the suite, he left Ronnie a quick note letting her know where he was.

  * * *

  Ronnie was so tired, she could scarcely hold her eyes open, but when the elevator doors opened to her floor, excitement chased away her exhaustion. She stepped out of the elevator and lengthened her strides so that she was almost running to her door.

  Arran awaited her. There was no way she was going to allow another night to pass without kissing him again. And … if something else happened, she wasn’t going to stop it.

  All she’d thought about all evening was Arran. Pete had gotten irritated with her, but she couldn’t help it. She should have invited Arran regardless of what the others thought.

  Arran was … Well, she didn’t know what Arran meant to her, only that she wanted him next to her. It wasn’t just because she felt safe with him near. It was more than that. So much more.

  Words couldn’t begin to describe how he made her feel, what he made her dream of. His mere presence soothed her even as it scorched her with desire from the inside out. A smile from him could make her heart skip a beat.

  And his touch … Well, she could forget everything when he touched her.

  It took her three tries to get the key into the door to unlock it so she could enter. She was winded, a smile on her face as she let the door slam behind her and she walked into the living room.

  “Arran?” she called.

  The smile slipped when she saw the note on the table in front of her. She set down her purse next to the note and swallowed her disappointment. Then she went to take a long, hot bath. She started the water and kicked off her shoes before she grabbed a nightgown and a book she’d brought with her from the dig.

  She loved reading, but there were many nights she didn’t get to immerse herself between the pages of a good romance. The fact she was alone in such a beautiful suite without the man she’d been thinking of all evening made it a night perfect for a romance novel.

  Ronnie removed her clothes and tested the water with her toe. She sighed as she stepped into the water and leaned back against the large tub. Steam drifted around her, and just as she’d hoped, her muscles began to relax.

  She let herself unwind for a moment with her eyes closed and the water soothing her before she reached for the book.

  * * *

  Dale leaned against the lamppost and covertly watched the Warrior, Arran MacCarrick. He’d been following MacCarrick for over three hours.

  The first thing MacCarrick had done was purchase a laptop. He’d then spent an hour at a café on the computer, but Dale couldn’t get close enough to figure out what MacCarrick was doing.

  After that, MacCarrick began visiting antique shops. Some he was hardly through the door before he would turn and leave. Others he would stay for several minutes.

  Dale was able to see through most of the shops’ windows, so he saw MacCarrick talking to the owners. What he was saying Dale didn’t know, and that wasn’t going to earn him any points with Jason.

  “Bloody damned Wallace,” he murmured as he thought about Jason.

  He should have called Jason as soon as he realized what MacCarrick was doing, but Dale wasn’t suicidal. He quite enjoyed the power and immortality he had.

  Though he hadn’t seen MacCarrick fight, he knew the Warrior was centuries older than he, which meant MacCarrick would probably kick his arse.

  Jason would have Dale get closer to MacCarrick, and that would alert the Warrior he was being followed. So, for the time being, Dale was going to keep his distance.

  He clenched his jaw as he saw MacCarrick exit the latest antiques shop and turn his way. There was nowhere for Dale to go, nothing he could do but stay absolutely still.

  MacCarrick passed so close, their shoulders brushed. Dale kept his head down as MacCarrick mumbled an apology. Thankfully, a group of tourists was coming from the opposite direction, which would help Dale hide.

  Since they were atop a hill, it was easy for Dale to keep his eyes on MacCarrick. Until MacCarrick turned a corner.

  “Fuck,” Dale muttered, and shoved his way through the tourists.

  He kept a steady pace instead of running after his quarry. The closer he got to MacCarrick, the better—but he had to be smart about it.

  Dale caught sight of him four blocks later just as MacCarrick was entering another store. This time, Dale set up in the shadows of an alley. Warriors had amazing eyesight that allowed them to see even in the dark, but if MacCarrick didn’t know to look, the chances were he wouldn’t see Dale.

  A few short minutes later, MacCarrick walked out of the store. He stood on the sidewalk for a moment and looked first one way and then the next before he turned to his left and continued walking.

  Dale was tired of following him, but he had no choice. Jason would have his head—literally—if he didn’t do as ordered.

  He trailed MacCarrick for six blocks before turning left and heading toward Edinburgh Castle. Several times, MacCarrick stopped and looked at shop fronts, but he didn’t go inside any more.

  The climb was steep as they headed toward the castle, and the tourists in the area were standing in crowds of several dozen as they disembarked off tour buses.

  Dale felt his fangs fill his mouth as one of the tourists, a man weighing at least three hundred pounds, ran into him. The tourist was trying in vain to make it up the hill.

  In all the confusion, Dale lost sight of MacCarrick. After searching for almost fifteen minutes, Dale still couldn’t locate him.

  He was pulling out his phone to call Jason when he felt a tingle along his skin. Magic.

  Dale smiled as he followed the trail of magic. That had to be where MacCarrick was, and even if it wasn’t, Jason would want to know about this magic.

  The trail of magic was faint, but Dale was still able to track it. And imagine his surprise when it led to yet another antiques store.

  With none other than Arran MacCarrick inside.

  Dale quickly dialed Jason’s number.

  “I hope you’re calling
because you found something,” Jason said.

  Dale flattened his lips, the urge to growl his irritation overpowering. “Of course.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve been following MacCarrick.”

  “MacCarrick,” Jason repeated. “Is he still at the dig site?”

  “Nay.”

  Through the phone, Dale heard what sounded like Jason flipping through pages.

  “My wonderful cousin Declan does have MacCarrick listed as one of the Warriors from MacLeod Castle but doesna have much on him. I hope you have more, Dale.”

  “I’ve been watching him go into antique stores all over Edinburgh. And I found a trace of magic.”

  Jason made a pleased sound. “I gather that’s where MacCarrick is?”

  “Aye. He’s been in there awhile.”

  “I want to know what he’s looking for. Find it, or doona bother coming back.”

  Dale gripped the phone so tightly, he heard it crack. “MacCarrick and Reid are staying in Edinburgh another night. There’s some kind of event tonight.”

  “Then get in the event, Dale. Do I have to think of everything?”

  “These Warriors are smart, Jason. If I get too close, I could compromise your plans.”

  Jason laughed. “If you compromise my plans, then I suggest you allow MacCarrick to kill you because if he does no’, I guarantee what I have planned for you is much worse.”

  The call ended.

  Dale stuffed the phone back into his pocket and fisted his hands. How he hated Jason sometimes. The bastard might have given him untold power along with immortality, but Jason also ruled him.

  At least the Warriors at MacLeod Castle were free. Free to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.

  Was Dale’s freedom worth immortality? He’d thought so at first, though it wasn’t as if Jason gave him much of a choice. Dale’s life hadn’t been worth much to begin with.

  Jason had given him a second chance, and with it a nice house he could live in when Jason allowed it. And Jason’s money.

  Dale flattened himself against the wall of a building, in the alley, as MacCarrick walked out of the store. He didn’t look happy as he began walking back in the direction of his hotel.

  For just a moment, Dale contemplated going into the store, but he could do that later. MacCarrick was after something, and eventually Dale would be led to it.

  Until then, he’d keep following MacCarrick.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-TWO

  Arran couldn’t wait to tell Ronnie what he’d learned from the old man at the antiques store. Arran had known the man knew more than he was letting on, and the old man hadn’t disappointed.

  Unfortunately, getting the information had meant that Arran stayed out the entire night, listening to the old man’s stories, going through any books at the store, and then doing more research.

  But when Arran walked into the suite, it was to once more find it empty.

  He saw her note, written on the back of his from the night before.

  Arran—

  Andy called late last night to let me know they had discovered more artifacts at the dig. It wasn’t from the same section we’d been digging at, but another. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, since I’m doing a video conference with him so I can see what’s been found.

  Pete is on his way back to the site to double-check everything for me so I can remain here. I hope to make it back by the time the fund-raiser begins. If not, I’ll meet you at the party.

  Ronnie

  Arran tapped the table with his fingers for a moment. He was surprised Ronnie hadn’t immediately returned to the dig site. Every find was important to her. Why, then, was she remaining in Edinburgh?

  Did she need money that badly to fund her digs? If that was the case, maybe Arran could talk Saffron into giving a little more.

  Arran wasn’t completely destitute either. He had money aplenty, thanks to the others’ setting up an account while he’d been leapfrogging through time. He’d give Ronnie money himself, if need be.

  She hated the fund-raisers, and if she didn’t have to go, then she could remain at her digs, where she wanted to be.

  He ran a hand down his face. The only thing that had kept him going through the night was knowing Ronnie would be here waiting for him.

  It was hours until the party. He had time to do more investigating on the creatures. Arran walked around a couch and sat down. Then he called Fallon.

  “Are you no’ supposed to be with the lovely Ronnie?” Fallon asked.

  “Aye. She’s doing some business. Listen, I think I might have found something regarding my newest enemies.”

  “Ah,” Fallon said, drawing out the word. “The new creatures.”

  “Since I was in Edinburgh, I thought I’d do a wee bit of looking around to see what I could find. About four blocks from Edinburgh Castle is this tiny antiques shop. There was something about it that drew me in.”

  “Did you figure out what it was?”

  “Magic,” Arran answered. “It was faint, but it was coming from the shop. Once I was inside, I found what I’d felt. It was a chalice.”

  “A chalice?”

  “A verra old chalice, and the magic wasna as strong as it should be. But that’s no’ the interesting part. The owner is an old man who doesna have many days left. His nephew runs the business, but the old man happened to be there when I walked in. I asked a couple of questions to see how much he knew.”

  “Was that wise, Arran?”

  “I had a hunch, as Gwynn often says. As close as the shop is to the castle, and as old as the shop is, I suspect whoever owned it was around when the artifacts were taken from Edinburgh Castle.”

  “Did the man know anything?”

  “He did, but he wouldna tell me at first. Later, they asked me to come back, and the old man admitted that the shop had been in the family for many generations. It’s always passed down through the family.”

  Fallon chuckled. “So your hunch paid off.”

  “Aye. The monsters from the box, Fallon, they were no’ created as Deirdre created the wyrran.”

  There was a pause before Fallon said, “I doona think that’s good news.”

  “It gets worse. The creatures are called selmyr. The old man showed me a book from ancient Mesopotamia that speaks of these beings. They were greatly feared throughout the land.”

  “Shite.”

  Arran leaned back on the couch and looked at the ceiling. He hated to tell the rest, but they needed to be prepared. “They like to hunt other beings of magic. They feed off our blood. It’s our blood that sustains them.”

  “And the humans?” Fallon asked.

  “If they get in the way, the selmyr will kill them. If it’s a Druid, they are in as much danger as us.”

  Fallon let out a long string of curses. “Magic against magic again. Can we stand against them? Can the Druids?”

  “I know what the blood of those things felt like on my skin. I’ve also had the misfortune of having drough blood in me as well. The selmyr’s is much, much worse, Fallon. And when they bit me, it was as if they were draining my god as well. My power diminished, even the sound of Memphaea weakened.”

  “And we have a massive signal of magic shouting throughout the world in the form of Isla’s shield. Fuck!” Fallon shouted.

  Arran knew the frustration Fallon felt, because Arran had felt it, too. “No one will see the selmyr coming. They vanish like dust on the wind. In fact, that’s how they travel.”

  “That helps,” Fallon said softly. “But no’ enough. We have to figure out something that will repel the effect of their blood. Especially if it just requires contact with our skin. At least with drough blood, it had to be inside us for it to hurt.”

  “The story I was told says that the selmyr were contained by a group of mie. Somehow they got the selmyr in the box. I doona know how, nor did the old man. But if it could be done once, it can be done again.”

  Fa
llon released a long breath. “That is good news at least. Did the old man say where the Druids were from? Maybe there are still some around?”

  “He didna know. He and his nephew were going to do some more digging through their archives after I left. It appears that every member of his family who owned the shop cataloged every item that was brought in and where it came from as well as who bought it. But they also made note of any strange happenings of the time.”

  “You mean like the sightings of the wyrran last year.”

  “Aye.” Arran laughed. “The old man had the nerve to ask me what I knew of the wyrran.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “The truth. They were created by a drough who wanted to rule the world. When he said the wyrran were mentioned four hundred years earlier, he asked if they were the same.”

  “I gather you told him the truth.”

  “I did. He isna afraid of magic, nor is his nephew. I’ve made us some friends, Fallon. If we ever need them, we simply need to go to them again.”

  “Good work. I’ll have Gwynn and the others see what they can discover online about these selmyr. When will you and Ronnie return to the dig?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “And when will you return home?”

  Arran looked out the window, considering his options. “That isna so simple.”

  “Nay, my friend, it never is when women are involved.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-THREE

  Arran glanced around the ballroom and barely held in his exasperation. He ordered another whisky from the bar and looked down at the dark green, black, and yellow of his kilt. It hadn’t been that long since he gave up his kilt for the modern clothes, but he’d missed it nonetheless.

  It felt natural to be in a kilt again, even if it was only half a kilt as he thought of it.

  “You look almost as good as me,” said a voice beside Arran.

  He turned to find Camdyn dressed just as he was and wearing a cocky smile. “What are you doing here?”

  “We thought you could use a friend or two,” Saffron said as she stood between them. She rose up on her toes and kissed Arran’s cheek. “Besides, I haven’t seen Ronnie in a while, and I wanted to visit.”