by Meg Anne
“Skye, get the light,” he ordered. He had no intention of taking his gun or attention off this perp for even a second.
Lights flickered on, and Lucas got the first glimpse of his sister’s attacker. The only part not concealed by a dark cloak was the man’s mouth, which was currently turned up in a sinister smile aimed not at him—but at Skye.
He glanced behind him and saw that she’d gone completely pale. What the hell? Did they know each other? His sister’s face was red and tear-stained, and she was plastered against the floor, staring up at the bastard, her eyes wide with fear.
“I was wondering if you’d show up,” the man growled. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that spying was rude, Seer?”
“But murdering innocent women isn’t?” she retorted. Had Lucas not been packing a truckload of adrenaline, he might have given her some credit for keeping her voice steady.
“This little bitch is hardly innocent.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Lucas warned, his weapon still aimed at the man.
The cloaked man focused that sinister grin on him, and Lucas nearly dropped to his knees as the same harsh buzzing he’d experienced at the crime scene returned.
“I’m coming for you, Lucas MacConnell. Once everyone around you lies bloody and burned, you’ll be next.” The menacing voice had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Before he could reply, the man vanished. One second he was there, the next he was gone, leaving everyone standing terrified and confused as hell in his wake.
“Lucas?” Lizzie whispered from the floor, her voice trembling.
He holstered his weapon, then helped her to her feet. “Call 9-1-1,” he ordered Skye and turned his attention back to his sister as he helped her sit in one of the chairs. “Where are you hurt, Lizzie?” He scanned her body for signs of injury.
She had a small scrape on her forehead and a deep cut on her hand, but other than that, she seemed okay.
“I-I-I’m-m-m f-f-ine.” Her voice cracked, and her entire body began to shake uncontrollably.
Lucas wrapped his arms around her and rubbed a hand over her hair. His sister had worn her hair in a high bun since they were kids, convinced that it would help her become a ballerina. The desire to dance had faded as they grew older, but never the habit. It physically hurt him to see her usual pristine bun listing drunkenly to the side.
“Shhh, Lizzie. It’s okay,” he murmured against the top of her head. “You’re safe.”
As the adrenaline began to dissipate, Lucas’ resolve started to crack at the seams. He’d almost lost her. If he’d walked in only two minutes later, he would have had to bury his baby sister.
Other than their grandfather, who they had little to no contact with since he lived in Scotland, she was his only family and his best friend. They were so close in age that they’d been through everything together and life without her just wasn’t an option.
He glanced to the side to check on Skye. She stared, unblinking, at the place where the man disappeared. Her face was pale, and her arms were wrapped around her trembling body. How did she, an artist he’d just met, fit into all of this? How had she known someone was going to attack his sister tonight? Was it a coincidence, or something more?
The police showed up within minutes, and Lucas was grateful to see both Chief Daniels and Matthews amongst them. After guiding his sister to the ambulance parked outside, he headed back into the diner where he’d nearly lost the only person he loved.
“Hey, Chief, thanks for coming out.” He shook Hank’s hand and then folded his arms across his chest.
“Don’t mention it. Your sister okay?”
Lucas nodded. “Physically, she’s fine, other than some cuts on her forehead and hand.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t help but think what might have happened if I walked in any later.”
“You didn’t,” Matthews reminded him with a light slap on the arm. “On a date?” He gestured to Skye, who was busy giving her statement to one of the detectives.
“No, just a random coincidence,” he responded without taking his eyes off her. He had no intention of telling anyone about her cryptic warning, or about how it came to fruition. Not until he’d had a chance to speak with her himself.
The cloaked man had called her a Seer; what the hell did that mean? Seers and magic were things from fiction, not reality. Then again, the man had disappeared in an instant, so perhaps fiction wasn’t too off.
“Any ideas as to who her attacker was, or why they were here in the first place?”
Lucas looked up at the chief, shaking his head. “Not a single one. I was standing out front talking to Skye and heard the glass break. We ran in here and he already had her on the ground.”
“I’ll go check in with Lizzie and see what she might know,” Matthews said, turning toward the door.
“I’ll leave you two to talk.” Chief Daniels nodded at Skye, who had finished up with her statement and was now standing awkwardly off to the side.
“Thanks, Chief.” Lucas shook his hand again and turned to face the woman who seemed to have more secrets than Area 51.
“How’s your sister?” Skye asked as he approached.
“She’ll be fine.” He couldn’t control the anger seeping into his voice. His sister was just attacked by a man who somehow knew them all. An attack that this mysterious woman supposedly had a ‘bad feeling’ about. Shit had better begin making sense or he was going to just start arresting people. Or shooting them. Maybe both.
“I’m glad.”
“Feel like telling me the truth now,” Lucas said, his voice just above a whisper. “Seer?”
Her body stiffened, and she looked up at him with fire in her eyes. “Don’t you ever call me that again or I’ll be done helping you.”
“So that’s what you were doing? Helping me?”
“I warned you that something was coming, didn’t I? She’s alive right now because I warned you and you were here.”
“And exactly how did you know he was going to be here? In my line of work, coincidences like that just don’t happen.”
“Could you stop being a detective for, like, five minutes? This is an entirely new realm of shit that you have no idea about. That man who attacked her tonight was a Druid. And a motherfucking powerful one at that. He saw me in my vision, something that has never happened to me before. Not once. Perhaps you should be more focused on figuring out who he is and why he’s after you than questioning me.” Skye straightened, her amber eyes narrowed into slits.
Lucas put his hands up. “Whoa. Back the hell up for a second. Visions? A Druid? Are you fucking kidding me? What in the actual hell is a Druid?”
He glanced down to see her hands balled into fists. She might be fun-sized, and he towered over her, but she looked like she was ready to knock him out. Even angry, and apparently bat-shit crazy, she was still hot as hell.
“A Druid is a human capable of performing powerful magic.”
Lucas laughed, he couldn’t help himself. A fucking wizard? This wasn’t Harry Potter! “Look, I don’t know what the hell you’re aiming at here Skye, but magic is not real.”
She scoffed. “If you honestly believe that, then you’re about to have one hell of a rude awakening. Goodnight, Detective.”
She spun and stormed away, her boots crunching over shards of glass. When it came to Skye Giovanni, it seemed like there were always more questions, and rarely any answers.
Chapter 9
Skye
Men. Skye adjusted her scarf as she made her way out of the diner and into the dark. Her body started to shake now that the adrenaline had worn off. She picked up the pace, eager to get home.
Was it smart to be walking in the dark alone the same night she’d interrupted a Druid attack? Probably not. But being in that small space with the arrogant, hard-headed Lucas MacConnell was more than she could handle right now.
I warned him, didn’t I? Doesn’t that count for something? So why the hell does he keep treati
ng me like I’m a damn suspect!
“You won’t stop me.”
Skye skidded to a stop, her body going rigid as she turned to the direction of the voice. Standing about four yards away was the Druid, still completely hidden by his cloak.
“Who are you?”
“Someone you don’t want to mess with, little Seer. You can’t stop me. Back off before you get yourself killed.” He disappeared, and Skye’s jaw tightened. A death threat from a Druid. What a great fucking way to end the night.
Deciding her stubbornness wasn’t worth her life, she all but ran back to the diner to get a ride home from anyone other than Lucas MacConnell.
Skye added deep shades of blue to the painting she worked on. It wasn’t something she’d ever let see the light of day, but after the nightmares that plagued her during the two hours she had actually been able to sleep last night, she’d needed to get something onto a canvas. Anything to purge the memory from her mind.
The fear and helplessness she’d felt seeing Lizzie knocked down by the Druid had followed her into her dreams. That combined with her late night personal interaction with the bastard blended together to create the mother of all nightmares.
Skye had always been one to believe in fate. Watching countless deaths become reality, even after she’d thought she’d prevented them, made it impossible not to.
Every person had a destiny, a thin tapestry that laid out their lives within the finely woven strands; change one thing, and the entire fabric could unravel.
Was that what happened last night? Had she plucked the wrong string and now everything was about to come crashing down around her? Dammit, Skye, this is why you don’t get involved!
She took a step back to study the artwork before her.
The Druid stood in the center of the painting, his mouth pulled up in a deadly grin as he looked out from the canvas. There were dark swirls around him, which contained ancient runic letters she’d only ever seen in her grandmother’s journals.
“Never trust a Druid, Skye,” Her Gran warned. “They have no love for the Gypsies. If you meet one, you must run, baby. Run and never look back.”
“Great,” Skye muttered. Trusting the asshole was definitely out of the question, but she worried she was in too deep to run now. If she left, Lucas and Lizzie would die; she knew it with every fiber of her soul.
A knock on the door had her jumping, and she nearly spilled the paint she held. “Coming!” she called, quickly turning the easel around to hide the painting of the Druid. If it was Maxwell, she had no interest in him seeing her current project.
She checked the peephole and inwardly cursed. I do not have the patience today. She briefly considered not opening the door, but the thought was fleeting. If it were just Lucas on the other side, she might have left it closed. It would serve him right for laughing at her. After taking a deep breath, Skye pulled open the door to Lizzie and an incredibly irritated looking Lucas.
“Here.” Lizzie held up a coffee and a basket with muffins piled inside.
“Thanks.” Skye took the offering and stepped aside so her unexpected guests could come into her apartment. “What can I do for you two?”
“I’m not here,” Lucas said stiffly, closing the door and leaning against it.
Skye rolled her eyes. “Alright, Casper. Thanks for the warning.”
“Ignore him; he’s in a mood this morning.” Lizzie shot Lucas a glare, and Skye bit back a grin. “I am here to say thank you.”
Skye frowned. “Not that I don’t appreciate the treats, but what for?”
“For saving my life.” Lizzie’s eyes were the same bright blue eyes as her brother’s, but instead of glowering at her like Lucas was, Lizzie’s shone with emotion.
“I hardly think I was the one who saved it,” Skye protested.
“Lucas told me about your warning, and that you were standing watch outside the diner last night.”
“I just had a bad feeling, that’s all.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Skye took a sip of her coffee.
“Why did he call you ‘Seer’?”
Skye nearly spit the hot liquid out.
Lucas took a step toward them. “I’ve been wondering that, too. He seemed to know you.”
“I assure you, I’ve never met him before last night.”
“So, how did you know what he was?” Lucas pressed.
And now we’re on to the interrogation. “My grandmother told me about Druids. She was big into the lore.”
“And you? You said he saw you in your vision. Mind telling me what the hell that means?”
“I was tired, Lucas, tired and scared. I meant he saw me right then while I was looking at him.”
“But you called him a Druid.”
“In case you weren’t paying attention, I just told you that my grandmother told me about them.”
Lucas crossed the room in three quick strides, towering over her. “Can you do us all a favor and stop fucking lying?”
Being short had never been such a disadvantage as it was right now because all Skye wanted to do was stand nose to nose with him. She balled her hands into fists and tilted her chin up, refusing to so much as blink. If he wanted to intimidate her, he was going to have to do better than this.
“Whoa, easy, you two!” Lizzie stepped in and put her hand on Lucas’ chest.
They stared at each other a moment, the air packed so full of tension Skye could all but feel it suffocating her. She finally took a step back and coupled the maneuver with a deep breath.
“If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me,” Lucas growled.
Skye’s jaw tightened, there was something primal in the way he studied her. A hunger that had the irritation transforming into something she wasn’t ready to study too closely. The way she saw it, she had two choices: tell them the truth and they think she’s crazy, or tell them the truth and they believe her.
“He called me Seer because that’s what I am. My grandmother was one too. It runs in my bloodline. I can see the future—”
Lizzie let out a shocked gasp. Skye glanced at her, already anticipating the next question out of her mouth.
“Unfortunately for me,” Skye continued, “my line only has the ability to see death.” And I can’t do anything to stop it. They didn’t need to know this was probably all pointless.
“So, you saw me die.” If possible, Lizzie’s already pale face leeched of even more color.
Skye nodded. “Yes.”
Lucas scoffed. “You expect us to actually believe you can see the future, and that we are being hunted by a wizard?”
Skye rolled her eyes. “A Druid, not a ‘wizard.’ They aren’t remotely the same thing. Druids are primitive, powerful beings with magical abilities beyond your comprehension. It’s an ancient power tied to their bloodline, making each generation just as strong—if not stronger—than the one that came before.”
“So, let’s say I believe you, which I don’t. But let’s say I do… why would he be after us?”
Skye shrugged. “I’m not a Druid; therefore, I have no clue.”
“How do we stop him?”
“Again, I have no clue. My grandmother always warned me that if I saw one I was to start running and not stop until I was sure he was gone.”
“This is just great.” Lizzie took a seat on the couch.
“Lizzie, it’s a fairytale.”
“Then how the hell do you explain him just disappearing?” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Lucas, he hated me. I don’t know why, but I could feel it radiating off him.”
“Why would a random stranger hate you? This is just insane.” He took a step further into the apartment. “Wait.” He stopped, turning slowly to face his sister. “Is it possible Jeff got out early?”
Lizzie stared at her brother wide-eyed. “We’d know, wouldn’t we? That’s not possible.”
“Maybe not, but he’s a real flesh and blood man, n
ot some ancient primordial Merlin or whatever.” Lucas shot Skye a glare, and she rolled her eyes.
“Jeff is my ex-husband,” Lizzie explained. “He’s in jail right now.”
“For attacking her,” Lucas added.
“Oh, fuck,” Skye said, turning her back on him to focus on Lizzie, who was bone-white. She reached for Lizzie, but stopped short when Lucas cursed.
“What now?” she snapped as she spun to face him.
“What the hell is this?” He held up her painting, and Skye groaned.
She should have hidden it better.
“Something I did this morning to try and alleviate some stress.”
“What are these?” He gestured to the symbols.
“Runes.”
“Runes?” he repeated.
Skye nodded.
After setting the painting down, he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and thrust it in her face. “Are these the same thing?”
Skye studied the picture. Blood had been used to paint runes on a wall. While she couldn’t read the symbols, she did recognize them as a spell. This Druid had performed a ritual of some kind, and Skye knew it wouldn’t be his last. He wouldn’t stop until the other two people in this room were dead.
“It’s a spell of some kind.” The words were as shaky as her legs. Skye sat down heavily beside Lizzie and closed her eyes as her vision swam. Everything about this situation screamed wrong.
“A spell?” Lucas spat out the word as if it was tainted. “Seriously, Skye?”
She forced her eyes open and looked up at him. “Did I stutter?” She had no idea where the bravado came from. Inside, she was losing her shit.
Lucas was losing the hold on his temper. His jaw was clenched, the tendons in his neck jutting out as he ground his teeth. Red was creeping its way up his neck as he glared, his blue eyes glacial. Despite his obvious anger, Lucas didn’t raise his voice. If anything, he spoke more softly. “What. The fuck. Does. It. Say?”
