Passion of a Scottish Warrior (The MacLomain Series: Later Years Book 4)

by Sky Purington

  While Darach loved the Hamilton’s, he suddenly felt a new sense of pride in them. A better idea of the hardship they had endured. And what they were witnessing now was early on in Keir’s reign so that said much about the duration of their suffering.

  “Aye then, ‘tis good ye see the right o’ things,” Keir murmured, looking down his nose at Grant. “Mayhap ye’ll not make a home of the dungeon much longer. Ye’ve ‘til dark to exercise yer legs and get back to the castle.” He grabbed Kenzie by the hair and yanked her after him. “Until he gets his turn at ye, ye’ll find other ways to earn yer keep.”

  Darach pulled his hand away from Jackie’s mouth as the room fell silent. When Grant finally lifted his head, a tear slid down his cheek and fury ravaged his features. There it was. The emotion he knew his father had to be feeling all those years.

  When Darach’s eyes met Jackie’s, hers were damp as well. He cupped her cheek, thankful for her compassion before his eyes were snagged by what drifted overhead toward the castle. Heavy raindrops started falling, and the wind whipped up, but it had no effect on the cloud. On the evil demi-god. Keir’s father.

  Jackie’s eyes shot to the sky. “Why isn’t he coming after us?”

  He swore the stone on her ring flickered black, but a blink later, it was normal. Then that strange suctioning sensation they experienced back at the glade started happening again. “We’re being pulled somewhere, lass. Dinnae even speak within the mind unless I speak first, aye?”

  “Okay,” she said, a tremble in her voice as he pulled her even closer.

  Within seconds, everything around them vanished, and something else appeared. Complete darkness except a pinhole of light a few feet away. Darach pressed her head against his chest and stroked her hair so she wouldn’t panic. He didn’t use magic but took a moment to sense his surroundings. The cold stone. The drafty breeze that came off the Atlantic. The wafting cobwebs.

  It didn’t take long to figure things out.

  They were hidden in a very narrow hallway that ran behind the rooms on the third floor of Hamilton Castle. The light they saw was coming from the corner chamber. A room his father had long sealed off because it was once Keir Hamilton’s.

  Darach was grateful Jackie wasn’t the hysterical sort and followed quietly when he pulled her after him. The hole in the chamber wall was only big enough for one of them to look through. He gestured that he would be looking through it and she nodded.

  When Keir entered the room, a fire sprang to life on the hearth beneath a creepy looking altar. Endless black candles dripped wax in long, dark tendrils down the mantel.

  How were they here without Keir knowing? Why were they supposed to see this? Because one way or another, the demi-god seemed to be pulling them along. Almost as if he didn’t know he was doing it.

  Keir sank to his knees and peered up at the altar. “Our plans are long set in motion, father. I will get my dragon. I will have Torra MacLomain. When I do, ye shall have yer rings.” He bent his head. “Then might they lead ye to the ring that brings ye to yer love.”

  When Jackie tensed, he squeezed her hand in reassurance and continued focusing on what was happening. He knew from his Da and the Next Generation of MacLomains just how much Keir had wanted Torra. As far as Darach knew, he never had any interest in the Claddagh rings. If anything, he didn’t want their power igniting against him.

  Yet it seemed he’d had an ultimate goal beyond Torra.

  At least one of the rings. And the only way to get it was to have the power of Torra MacLomain at his disposal. But for what? To manipulate time to find the ring that would lead him to his lost love? Really? And what did Robert the Bruce and altering Scotland's history have to do with it?

  His eyes narrowed when smoke from the fire shifted and started to blend with something pouring in from outside. The demi-god. He was surprised when Jackie began trembling even though she couldn’t see a thing. So he pulled her against his chest and kept stroking her hair as he continued to watch.

  “Father,” Keir murmured, head lowered.

  “Aye,” whispered on the wind and blew the candles out. After that, there was nothing but silence. Almost as if the demi-god wasn’t there.

  “Aye, I hear ye,” Keir said. “Once I get the dragon, and we get the rings, ye will. Then we will be unstoppable.”

  The fluctuation of power in the air that usually accompanied the demi-god wasn’t there. Everything felt calm. Too calm. That’s when Darach realized what he was looking at. Not a demi-god but a wraith. An echo of a man who had once walked this Earth. An inkling of what he would someday become. Until then, he was but a spectrum that continued to haunt his evil son.

  Eoghan Dubhdiadh.

  The ghost of a Druid.

  As he watched the wraith twist and undulate around Keir, he got the sense the Druid poured darkness into his son. Almost as if he was sharing his evil. That’s when it occurred to Darach. This might be why they thought Keir was Eoghan to begin with. Perhaps he carried a part of his Da’s taint within. If these odd visitations between father and son had been going on for years, God knows how much of Eoghan’s dark essence churned within Keir.

  Yet as they all knew, the demi-god had still managed to keep his own soul.

  “Aye, Father.” Keir lowered his head and repeated, “Ye find yer ring, ye find yer love.”

  Darach frowned when Jackie pressed tighter against him. What the bloody hell was going on?

  “Son?” whispered through his mind.

  “Da?” Darach shook his head when he heard his father’s voice. “Nay, stay clear of me…”

  Too late. Once Grant locked onto them, he and Jackie were whisked back to the glade. It took several moments to adjust to their sharp transition. Rain poured and night had fallen. Everyone was there. Erin came up and put her hand on Jackie’s back. “Hey, hon…” She cocked her head and tried to make eye contact. “Are you okay?”

  Jackie shook like a leaf and pressed against him so tightly he knew she wasn’t going to get over it anytime soon. She was terrified.

  “I’ve got her.” Darach swung her into his arms and started toward the fire. “I need warm blankets. I know she doesnae drink but whisky too if we’ve any.”

  “Aye,” Niall and Rònan said at the same time.

  Meanwhile, Heidrek walked alongside with his blade drawn and his eyes scanning their surroundings, not convinced in the least she was safe. Hell, Darach wasn’t even convinced after what just happened. The only thing that lent him comfort was his father's lack of concern as he muttered, “You’re putting white hair on my head far too fast, lad.”

  Even once they sat around the fire and Jackie was on his lap tucked against his chest, she still trembled. Erin crouched beside them, held a skin to her lips and said, “I know you’ve stayed away from this since your prognosis, but I think we’re beyond that at this point.” She gave her a stern look and ordered, “So drink up and calm down, Sweetheart.”

  When Jackie started to shake her head, Erin narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t up for debate. A little booze isn’t gonna put you under.”

  “But,” Jackie whispered.

  “No ‘buts’,” Erin said. “You nursed me back to health. This is my way of returning the favor.”

  Jackie’s trembling subsided a wee bit, and her voice grew a little stronger. “I spent a month taking care of you. A sip of whisky returns that favor?”

  Erin grinned and winked. “Just drink already.”

  “Fine,” she murmured and took a quick sip.

  “More,” Erin ordered.

  “Bully,” Jackie whispered before she took a deeper gulp.

  “Sure am.” Erin offered a comforting smile and sat beside them. Nicole sat on their other side.

  Erin squeezed Jackie’s hand and whispered, “Can you feel this?”

  When Jackie nodded, he frowned. It was the same thing Adlin had asked before. Something to do with her illness.

  Jackie didn’t drink any more, but the trembling di
d subside. The children were sleeping, and the adults remained quiet as they waited for her to adjust. She eventually loosened her grip on him and pulled away. He made sure the blanket stayed around her shoulders as she sat between him and Erin.

  Her eyes went to his father first, and though she might be coping with what had just happened, they lit with compassion. “I,” she started then stopped as her eyes shot to Darach’s and she shook her head.

  He understood. She didn’t want to be the one to share the first half of their odd adventure. So he did. Whether or not his father intended it to be a secret or not, it needed to be told. When finished, he inhaled deeply and met his father’s eyes. “You made me bloody proud, Da. I knew ‘twas a verra difficult road for you, but I never saw it as anything other than harm done to you.” He shook his head. “And whilst there was certainly harm done, you rallied our clan…” His voice caught. “Including Aunt Kenzie and Uncle Bryce.”

  Pain flickered in Grant’s eyes but also that same strength Darach had seen in his Da when he was so young. Though his father’s eyes might be moist, his words were strong. “Whilst I would have preferred to be with you when witnessing such a thing, I’m glad you took from it what you did.” His eyes went to Jackie. “But that isnae what has you so upset. When you’re ready, please share, lass. Though ‘tis hard ‘tis important.”

  “Aye.” Darach’s eyes met Jackie’s. When she nodded, he understood. She wanted him to continue.

  “What pulled us from here wasnae Keir or even the demi-god as we now know him. It couldnae have been. We were too protected. Too unknown.” He shook his head. “As though we were dragged along without intention.”

  Grant narrowed his eyes. “Not by Keir but by the demi-god, Eoghan Dubhdiadh?”

  It didn’t go unnoticed that Jackie took another swig of whisky.

  “Aye.” Darach nodded. “But he was merely a wraith of the druid he once was.” Then he shared his speculations on Eoghan’s dark influence over Keir.

  “’Twould verra well explain why it was thought Keir was Eoghan,” Grant murmured, troubled. “And but proves yet again how truly evil the demi-god is that he would use his own offspring in such a way.” He frowned. “Though I speculate Keir was dark enough to begin with.”

  Everyone fell silent as they pondered the news. The only thing he hadn’t shared was Jackie’s intense reaction or those final words that seemed to put her over the edge. And while tempted to blurt it out, he wanted to speak with her alone if it made her more comfortable. Because, for whatever reason, that last bit sent her into sheer panic.

  But it seemed she was ready to speak.

  “There’s more,” she whispered then cleared her throat. Her eyes scanned everyone before they landed firmly on Grant. “Something I think might be important.”

  “Aye, lass?” Grant said softly…patiently.

  “What Darach hasn’t told you yet is what Keir said to Eoghan.” She took a deep breath. “He told his father that if Eoghan found the ring, he would find his lass.”

  “Well, that’s interesting.” Grant’s eyes narrowed. “But why does that bother you so?”

  Though he got the sense she wanted to bolt, Jackie sat up straighter, kept her eyes trained on Grant and said the last thing Darach expected.

  “Because I’m fairly certain I’m the woman he’s talking about,” she said. “I think we were in love.”

  Chapter Nine

  HAD SHE REALLY just shared that? Should she have? By Grant’s reaction, yes and far sooner. By Darach’s reaction, probably not.

  Nobody said a word.

  Silence stretched.

  Then Nicole in typical Nicole fashion murmured, “Well shit, I never saw this coming.”

  Grant’s eyes flickered from Darach to Jackie, voice firm and none-too-pleased. “What do you mean, lass?”

  Erin nudged Jackie’s skin of whisky. “Another sip isn’t gonna kill ya.”

  Heck, even before her diagnosis she wasn’t a big drinker, but the look on Darach and Grant’s faces might just change that. So she took another sip.

  “Back at the Highland Defiance, when we were with Adlin.” God, she was going numb, and it had nothing to do with whisky. Forgive. Forgive. When Erin squeezed her hand, she felt nothing. When Darach’s leg touched hers, she felt it.

  What was that?

  Why did she always feel him?

  But right now wasn’t the time to be curious. Right now they needed to get to the bottom of things. So she continued.

  “Back at the Defiance I had a nightmare,” she explained. “I’m pretty sure I was in the Celtic Otherworld. It was gray, lifeless, so much dead grass.”

  “That sounds about right,” Rònan said.

  “There was a man there,” she said. “He had a long black cape.” She shook her head and made a motion with her hands. “It almost seemed like flames came off of him.”

  Grant didn’t let stunned silence settle long before he nodded. “Go on.”

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath and continued sharing, something she probably should have done sooner but had thought it was just a nightmare…hoped it was.

  “He seemed to know me.” She glanced at her ring. “He said if I took off this ring, all would become clear.”

  “But that makes no sense.” Darach frowned. “You got upset when Keir spoke of Eoghan finding the right ring. Wouldn’t that imply that you needed to wear it?”

  “No, Son,” Grant whispered. “Not necessarily.”

  “What do you mean?” Darach asked, upset. “I dinnae ken.”

  “I think the demi-god wanted me to put the ring on so that he could find me.” Jackie swallowed. “Because when he saw me in the Otherworld, he wanted me to take it off. He wanted me to remember.” She shook her head, her gaze falling to the fire. “Something that happened between us in…”

  When she struggled to say the words, Grant continued, “In another life, aye?”

  “In another life?” she croaked. “I hope not…maybe.”

  But how could that be? Yet Darach had to be thinking the same thing as her. No wonder Brigit kept the real ring from her. Especially if it was a beacon for Eoghan.

  Grant’s eyes shot to Erin. “Tell her what you learned about you and Rònan. Tell her what can happen.”

  Erin frowned, clearly upset as she shook her head. “It can’t be the same sort of thing.”

  “Erin?” Jackie asked, confused by her behavior.

  Erin ground her jaw and met her eyes. “Rònan and I are not only dragon mates but soul mates.”

  Jackie offered a small smile. “That’s great but what does that have to do with this?”

  She barely felt Erin’s hands when she took hers and searched her eyes. “Rònan and I met before. In another lifetime. To be dragon mates we needed to be soul mates first. So, what Grant’s trying to say is that you’re likely reincarnated.” She shifted closer, still frowning. “He’s implying that you might have lived another life.” Erin shook her head. “One with the demi-god. Because your souls obviously know one another.”

  Jackie had no idea what to think of that.

  What to make of it.

  Yet when she went to shake her head no, she couldn’t. Instead, all she could do was stare at the fire. And remember how real it had all felt. The Celtic Otherworld. Her surroundings. Home but not.

  “I don’t love him,” she whispered as her eyes met Grant’s. “I don’t know him.”

  “I dinnae think you do,” Grant said softly. “Not in this lifetime anyway.”

  Bile rose in her throat.

  Did they all think she was in love with the enemy in another lifetime? In love with someone evil?

  “That’s why you said I shouldnae have touched you when the demi-god first passed over, and we were pulled to the cottage,” Darach murmured. “You were afraid you shared some sort of connection.”

  Jackie nodded. Though tempted to drink more whisky, she wanted to keep a clear head. “I guess I did,” she murmured. “I’m so
rry. I should’ve said something sooner.”

  “Nay.” Darach squeezed her hand. “I should have.” His eyes stayed with hers. “Jackie, I shared some of that nightmare at the Defiance with you. I was riding Eara determined to save you from the demi-god. And I did. I think. I scooped you up, and Eara raced over the cliff. It felt like something I had done before. We had done before. I awoke before you, calm...knowing you would be upset.”

  Jackie’s heart slammed into her throat, and she shook her head. “No, it was a man in armor with a brown cape.” She struggled to swallow. “The same one I thought I saw…”

  “Where?” he whispered when she trailed off.

  Struggling to remain calm, she continued. “In the stables at the Highland Defiance. The same knight appeared. And like the demi-god, he had an Irish accent. He said it had been so long since he saw me. Then asked if I was well? He seemed so…sad. As though he really missed me.” Her eyes met Darach's. “But a second later, you stood in his place. Exactly where he had just been.”

  A stunned silence fell again before Grant finally spoke.

  “Bloody hell,” he said. “It seems you’re caught in some sort of love triangle that has withstood the ages, lass.” His eyes locked with Darach’s. “Mayhap before ye were a Scottish warrior, ye were an Irish warrior, lad.”

  Darach and Jackie’s eyes rounded on him.

  “Holy crap,” Nicole whispered as Erin murmured, “I’ll be damned.”

  “You mean to say Jackie and I likely knew each other in another lifetime?” Darach’s brows lowered. “That we may have been in love?”

  “Stranger things have happened,” Grant said, troubled.

  Jackie got the sense Grant wanted to say more, but didn’t. Good thing, because she could connect the dots. While it might seem romantic that she and Darach came back together, it also meant his son was somehow interlocked through time with a monster. And based on what the demi-god said, it could have very well been a love triangle.