by S Lawrence
It was my turn to gape. Snapping my mouth shut, I lean forward and suck a breath in, preparing to speak but can’t seem to form a coherent thought. This was so not what I had expected. Once again, Sean and Michael start to chuckle. Michael is the first to speak this time. “We have stunned her into silence. While I haven’t known you long, lass, I feel like this is some kind of great accomplishment.”
Slowly leaning back in my chair, I just stare at them. I am trying to remember everything I can from my ancient religions class, which to be honest, isn’t much. I feel like most of my information is more likely to come from movies or my romance books - images of men in robes chanting around trees and such, race through my head. My phone vibrates. I look down to see a text from Emma. She has sent me a gif of a man in a black robe sacrificing what, I can only assume, is a virgin, a smile threatens to bloom across my face. I glance up through my lashes before sending ‘not helping and I’m not a virgin’ back to her.
“Well, what do they think? Are you safe from us?” Michael asks, eyes on mine with intense focus, unblinking with one eyebrow raised. The others freeze, their eyes widening. They look to him for confirmation; they just told someone else their secret.
“Who?” Chris asks frowning, the color draining from his face, his hand creeping up to stroke his beard. I suddenly feel a little ashamed, heat creeping up my neck into my face. Emma is my vault, would never tell a soul but they don’t know that. I have no idea what might have happened to make them feel like they needed to hide this part of themselves, but I have to put them at ease. Growing up with Grandmother, I know my own form of persecution. I don’t want to be the cause of one moment of pain like that for anyone else. Sitting up, I look them straight in the eye.
“Listen, I am sorry, but I was really scared. It’s Emma; she will never tell your secret. I know you don’t know her, but I hope you can hear the truth in my words.” Little did I know, someone was listening that could, in fact, hear or rather see the truth in my words. Sean has risen, walking a short distance away, his gaze is probing when his eyes land on my face, I want to duck my head but I force myself to keep my eyes locked on his a moment longer. Patrick’s brow is furrowed, deep lines creasing it. His eyes land on each of the boys and I can tell by the look in them, when they fall back on my face, that he would do anything to protect them from any danger. I try not to pull back into myself. Pulling my phone to my ear I whisper in a shaky voice “Em; I’ll call you back later.” Hanging up, I lay it down and pull my knees up.
Chris’s jaw is jutting, teeth clenched when he growls, “You hadn’t any right to do that.” I flinch as if he slapped me. I feel bad, I really do, but I also feel my blood pressure rising, blood pounding in my ears as I glare back at him.
“You know what? You're right, but don’t you dare sit there all holier than thou.” I sweep my arm around pointing at all of them, “You all followed ME here, not the other way around. You acted like you wanted to be my friends and the whole time you were...what exactly?” By the end, my voice has risen enough that Michael looks around to see if anyone is watching. My hands tightened into fists, knuckles going white. I realize I’m panting. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm down. I could feel the tears forming in my eyes, and I look up to keep them from falling. I fucking hate that I cry when I am mad because people always see it as a weakness. I see the guys exchange that typical look that men get, the one that screams ‘O, she is weak and needs to be babied’ which just makes me even angrier. I want to scream at them that these tears mean I am just trying really hard not to murder them.
Michael moves beside me and tries to put his arm around my shoulders, the look I give him should have killed, but he just chuckles, “Why don’t we all calm down?” Grumbles comes from us all, but I blink about one hundred times to get rid of the tears and then sit back down. Giving them all a shrug, followed with a sniff of disdain, I become very interested in my cuticles. I had learned well at the hands of Moira Flanery. But Joe, my self-defense teacher, had also taught me well. I might look relaxed and uninterested, but I was coiled and ready to fight if I had to.
Apparently, that was something the brothers in arms could appreciate for they both nodded their head in awareness. I just raised one eyebrow slightly before looking at Patrick waiting. Seconds turned to minutes, and I just sat looking at them, waiting. I could feel the tension building. Looking back down, I hid a smirk; someone was about to break. I had been on the other side of this battle many times with my grandmother; I know the signs. I look back up when I hear a long drawn out sigh, Patrick is rubbing his forehead while looking from man to man. I see them all give him a slight nod.
Clearing his throat he begins.
When he is finally finished, I can do nothing but stare at them, unable to articulate any of the thoughts racing around my brain. Standing, I pace to the railing and look out at the storm clouds that are forming over the far shore. My fingers rub against the dragon head on my bracelet, and I look down at it in disbelief. My skin starts to tingle with excitement, my heart wanting to believe but my brain balks. I am startled from my thoughts when I feel an arm around my shoulders, and I peer up at Sean’s face. There must have been a question in my eyes because he nods yes to me. Then I feel the heat of Michael on my right side; I don’t need to look because I have already realized that the brothers are together in all things. I bump him with my shoulder. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I slowly turn to face the others. They have formed a loose semi-circle around me.
Sean is the first to speak. “Tis true. We were drawn by the magic of the bracelet. It connects with the ley lines that run through the earth.”
“Oh, okay that explains it all,” the sarcasm drips from my lips. “Let’s assume I have no idea what you are talking about because umm I don’t.” I am glaring at them by this point.
Patrick holds up his hand to stop Sean from speaking. “Aislin, I understand this is going to be difficult, not only for you to understand, but to even believe. I promise, when we get to Callanish, we will explain it in great detail but for now, please just believe us when we say we weren’t ‘stalking’ you. We were drawn by the power of the bracelet.”
“Fine, I will try, but for now, I just want to be alone. I need to process this. “Please.” I plead with them. Grabbing my purse, I turn and walk away from them.
I go all the way to the front and smile, thinking that if Emma were here right now, we would be having a total Titanic moment. I should call her back but I just need some time, so I send her a quick text instead, letting her know I am not currently being sold to the highest bidder or being sacrificed at the altar. I end the text with ‘I love you’ and ‘I just need a little time alone.' I am not surprised when my phone dings in about a half a second. Smiling, I read it. It simply says ‘I’ll be here, love you.’ That’s Emma.
That brain of mine is swirling at a category five now. Druids. Magic. Druids. Magic. Back and further, round and round it goes. My brain is screaming that I should run for my life because these guys are crazy, but my heart is saying this is it, this is why she wanted me to come here.
Suddenly, one of those tiny pieces of paper swirling in the hurricane drifts down falling into my palm. My mind's eye looks at it, and it has one word on it. Journal. Oh My God, the journal, and the tale. I jerk my purse open, throwing crap out on the floor, digging into it. I shake my head in frustration. How is it that every time you put something in a purse, it magically migrates straight to the bottom? It makes no damn sense. Finally, it is in my hands, and I am shaking as I flip through the pages. Shit, I went too far. I should have got those tabby things and marked certain pages. Plopping my ass down on the deck, I stare at the page where the story begins.
“She taught him many secrets, and he became the first Druid,” I whisper it out loud, over and over. “What if, no I mean that’s crazy right? No more crazy than sitting here having an argument with yourself, girl.” Scooping up my lip-gloss and all the other crap I had thrown on the deck, I s
hove it back in my purse. Squinting, I look back to where I left the boys, and I can see they are all still there. Michael has his eyes on me while listening to whatever they are all talking about. Chris is talking with his hands and, even from this distance, I can tell he isn’t happy. Keeping my eyes on them, I pull out my phone and hit Emma’s number. Sean is watching me, and I suddenly feel like doing the ‘I’m watching you thing.' You know, with my two fingers pointing at my eyes then back his way. Emma picks up on the first ring, and she is talking a mile a minute. Man, I can catch part of it. I guess she spent her time researching druids.
“Em, Stop and listen to me for a minute. I really need you to listen,” I yell into the phone. Silence follows.
“Okay. I’m listening,” she relented.
I am still watching them as I begin to speak. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but just go with me for a minute here. My mom said for me to come here, to find my dad, my magic. Grandda always said our people were magic. So what if these guys are telling the truth? What if my dad is a druid? Maybe he gave my mom this magical bracelet for some reason; maybe it was supposed to do something.”
“Ok, well if that’s true what’s it supposed to do?” she asks, still skeptical.
“I don’t know, but Moira made her take it off as soon as she got home. Maybe that has something to do with it,” I sneered, trying to figure all this out.
“I guess if we are going to believe that you are wearing a magical bracelet, then we can assume that it doesn’t do what it is supposed to when it is off. What’s one more leap really?”
I get what she’s trying to say and I know it sounds crazy but what else am I supposed to think? “Alright, I hear your sarcasm, and I understand what you are saying, but I honestly don’t get a serial killer vibe off them. So, I think I will just listen to what they have to say.”
“Please. I just don’t want you to get swept away in what might be a total fairytale. I couldn’t stand it if you got your heart broken. Promise me you’ll be careful,” she demands. “Please don't go anywhere with them and I swear, if I don’t hear from you soon, I am coming to get you. Aislin, I mean it! Promise me!”
“I promise, okay? Don’t worry; I won’t lose my mind...well, at least not any more of it. I knew you’d understand. I have to check it at least out. I love you so much.” My heart is so full loving how much she gets me.
We hang up, on a promise for me to call her as soon as I got to the hotel. Steeling my nerves, I gather my things and stand. All eyes turn to me, waiting to see what I will do. Looking down at the journal, I whisper “Alright; Momma give me a sign or something.” Movement to my left catches my eye, and I see a kid walking my way wearing a Pogues shirt. It’s faded and worn but Pogues all the same. Smiling, I glance up and send her my love. Making eye contact with Patrick, I nod my head. The captain announces that we are about to dock, just as I approach them. I look out and see a mass of dark clouds on the horizon. A storm is brewing.
Chapter 21
Fucking Druids are watching her every move. On her like her personal bodyguards. He thought he’d have his chance when he saw her get suspicious at their appearance but apparently, they convinced her they were harmless. Traitors to their own people is more like it. He paces alongside them in the crowd, getting off the ferry. Idiot sheep going to the stones for a day of fun. They have no idea what they are doing.
The druids do, since they have always been in on it. Hoarding the power all to themselves, thinking they are so much better than the rest of us. He thinks he might take one of them with him when he grabs her; he would enjoy some time with one. Slashing his eyes down as the one in fatigues swivels his head towards him. It won’t be one of those bastards they are ready for a fight, that’s for sure. He slows his steps, falling back farther into the crowd. Feeling the vibration of his phone, he pulls it out and looks at the number. Looking back at them ahead, his jaw tightens, smirking at the image of the druid after their alone time together.
“Dorran,” He ground out. Not wanting to deal with this shit.
“Mr. Dorran, we have been waiting for an update,” the voice is tinged with disdain, letting him know exactly what they think of him.
Scowling, he keeps his eyes on her, sliding through the crowd. Needing to be closer but not so close those two-legged Rottweilers catch his scent.
“MR. DORRAN! Are you listening?” came a sharp reprimand.
“Yes! I am listening, but I am also following our target. Acquiring her just got harder as the Druids are now with her. Not to mention the Guardian must be close now. I believe there is another here also. I saw him last night with the Druids, and then he disappeared. He is an unknown. I still plan to proceed but must go at it cautiously. I am certain if we get her, Faolan, or the other, will come for her,” he answers quickly, wanting to stay focused.
“Mr. Dorran, we must be successful. Who knows when we'll get another chance like this? Have you ascertained who she is?”
“I overheard her talking about her mother having traveled here before she was born. If I were to guess, I would say she is the daughter of the woman Faolan was trying to get to. I cannot for certain confirm this. It is quite possible she is his daughter, and if she is, we must test her abilities,” He says, his body shivers with anticipation at those ‘tests’. They would not be privy to some of those tests; the ones reserved for his enjoyment only.
“Do you have the facility ready and warded?” He asks, his voice quivering a bit with excitement.
“Yes, all is taken care of, and as you requested, only the skeleton crew is there. But, you should know that we will be sending in more, just in case the Guardian does show up,” condescension drips from their voice as they reply.
Dorran’s brain scrambles for a way to convince them to leave her to him. Blowing out a deep breath, he reigns in his anger. Rubbing his brow hard enough to leave a mark, carefully formulate his words as his eyes caress down the line of her hip. “Of course, you should send more people. I would hope you would come yourselves when we have the Guardian,” Answering, hating the simpering tone in his voice.
But, it has worked, and he can hear the satisfaction in their voice as they reply. “Very well, Mr. Dorran. We expect more frequent reports. Oh and Mr. Dorran? Don’t take too long.”
Silence follows; they have hung up. Fighting the urge to fling the phone away, he grips it in his fists until the case begins to crack. Purposefully, he slowly relaxes the muscles on his fingers. Breathing through clenched teeth, trying to calm himself. He can feel the pulsing of his rage, and Dorran wonders if those around her can also. Even the bookworm is looking around now. Slipping into a group of drunken hippies, trying quickly to blend in. She looks up towards the blackening sky, saying something to the one called Patrick, who, he knows for certain, is the Archdruid of this Grove. Their pace quickens. He knows he needs to get in front of them so he can check in and settle before they arrive. He has to get to her tonight. Reaching his room, he works out how he will get her from the hotel. Later, as Dorran leans back in the chair slowly, he can’t help the sneer on his face as he watches them eat and drink. The drug is slow acting. It’s so slow they will just begin to feel tired. Dorran has the patience of a falcon, and his eyes are on the prey.
Chapter 22
Into the storm...
It is between midnight and one a.m. when he slips into her room. Silently creeping ever closer to her, his breath moves the hair near her ear. Breathing her in, he feels his body come to life. His pulse is roaring in his ears. Excitement fires along synapses. Body tightening viciously. Visions of her bound dance behind his eyes. Reaching out, he runs his fingers along the swell of her breast, knowing the drug keeps her wrapped in darkness, completely unaware. He wants to play but knows he has to get her out of the hotel, away from those who would protect her. Picking her up in his arms, he turns to leave, remembering to remove her bracelet at the last minute, carelessly tossing it to the floor. Quickly, but silently, he races with her to the waiti
ng dingy and throws her into the bottom.
The druid is already here, arms bound, grunts when she lands on him. Dorran’s maniacal grin greets his eyes when he pries them open. Laughter drowns out Aislin’s name being called from behind the gag. The boat pulls away into the night, as rain begins to fall and the wind starts to howl. Chris has no idea how long it has been or how far they have come, but suddenly his body is stinging by an extremely powerful ward. A druid ward. Twisting he tries to see where they are but as he feels the needle slide in, Dorran whispers to him, “Welcome my name is Dorran and this is my ship.”
Blackness descends. The storm begins to rage just as he gets his two guests locked below. There are only a few crew members, and they have been ordered to stay on the levels above. He wants no interruptions.
Laying her on the table, he uses bondage rope to tie her, making sure her delicate skin doesn’t tear. He has chosen a brilliant shade of red, excited because he knew it would look beautiful against her ivory skin. Aislin slowly comes awake; her mind is foggy and slow. Head aching, she tries to rub her temple, only to find that her arms are bound. Jerking at the ropes, she is instantly aware that she is not alone. When her eyes opened wide, she sees him, a man that tickles at her memory. Knowing she has seen him before, she’s sure he’s the one that has been watching her all along. She’s terrified by the look of anticipation that she sees on his face. She flinches when she feels his hot fingers on her bare thigh. Raising her head, she sees that her clothes have been removed and a scream rips from her throat. It doesn’t last long as he kisses her violently, relishing in her fear. Teeth grinding into teeth, she tastes blood as his fingers dig into her jaw holding her head in place. His other hand roams her body, and she can’t stop the shudders of revulsion that have started. Tearing his mouth away he snarls “YOU ARE MINE!” The sound of thrashing comes from the left; he turns her head so she can see Chris hanging by his bound wrists. Gagged, his words are muffled, but the intent in his eyes is clear.
