by Donna Grant
“It’s good to see you,” Ramsey said. “Is something wrong?”
Fallon shook his head. “Nay. I just wanted to see how things were going.”
“It’s been naught but two days.” Ramsey eyed the eldest MacLeod and appointed leader of the Warriors. “What really brings you?”
Fallon ran a hand down his face. “I never liked the idea of you being here alone, not with Declan coming for Tara.”
“I can handle him.”
“I’m no’ saying you cannot. All I’m saying is that I willna lose another friend. It’s been four centuries, but I feel the loss of Duncan to this day.”
Ramsey rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “I as well. Who do you want to send here?”
Fallon grinned.
Ramsey rolled his eyes as understanding dawned. “Who’s here?”
“Arran and Charon.”
He cringed. “No’ two I’d have paired after their time in Deirdre’s mountain together.”
“Arran says he’s over it. I think it helps that he now knows Deirdre was forcing Charon to spy for her.”
“Where are they?”
“Around. You willna see them unless there’s trouble. I still think you’re taking a huge risk doing this, Ramsey. Declan could recognize you.”
Ramsey shook his head. “He was too preoccupied with Saffron and Camdyn as well as watching Malcolm turn against Deirdre to have noticed me during the battle at the Ring of Brodgar.”
“If there’s any trouble, take Tara, by force if needed, and get back to MacLeod Castle.”
Ramsey gave a brief nod of assent. None of them knew just how powerful he was, and for the moment, that’s exactly how Ramsey wanted it. There would be no running for him. He intended to kill Declan before the drough had a chance to get to Tara.
Ramsey was descended from a line of male Druids from the Torrachilty Forest who were fabled for their potent magic. They had been the warriors of the Druid world, the ones who had kept the droughs and mies from massacring each other. Add the power of Ramsey’s god and he was a force to be reckoned with.
On only one occasion had he shown some of that power, and that was the first time they had killed Deirdre. With all the Warriors battling her at once, no one realized what Ramsey had done. But for all their power, Deirdre hadn’t stayed dead. This time, however, was different. She was well and truly gone.
It had relieved Ramsey for all of a day before Saffron’s vision. As a Seer, Saffron didn’t always see everything in her visions. What she had seen was Tara. Saffron had been shown that Tara’s life was in danger, and that Ramsey was to be the one to save her.
It hadn’t taken them long to piece together from Saffron’s earlier visions that Declan was the one after Tara. And after Ramsey paid a little visit to Tara’s drunk of a mother, it was confirmed that Declan had called on her looking for Tara.
Ramsey watched as Fallon walked to the window and looked across the snow-covered grounds to the castle. “Have you spoken with Tara?” Fallon asked.
“Aye. She’s guarded, as I expected. From your description of the Druid who ran from you in Edinburgh, she’s one and the same.”
Fallon crossed his arms over his chest. “You seem different, old friend.”
Ramsey had never been much of a talker. He liked to formulate his answers and think of every possible outcome or decision before he voiced anything. But there were times, like now, when he didn’t have that option.
Fallon was a noble man, a natural leader, and a good friend. He didn’t want to lie to Fallon.
“Tara’s magic is…”
“Different?” Fallon offered as he turned his head to look at him.
Ramsey nodded. He held up his hand where the magical tendrils could still be seen.
“Bloody hell,” Fallon murmured as he dropped his arms to his sides and stared at Ramsey’s hand.
“I touched her on her arm briefly. Through her sweater. Her magic is unexplainable. I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s strong, but no’ as strong as Isla’s or Reaghan’s. Yet, in some ways it’s stronger than all of the Druids at MacLeod Castle combined.”
“Is she drough?”
Ramsey had looked at Tara’s neck for the Demon’s Kiss, a small silver vial that held the first drops of a drough’s blood after the ceremony where they gave their soul to the Devil. “I’ve no’ seen proof of it. And with the sweaters she wears, I’ve no’ had a chance to look at her wrists for the cut marks.”
“Does her magic hurt?”
“Nay.” Anything but. Her magic was the most wonderful thing Ramsey had ever felt. He wanted to keep touching her, to keep that feeling close to him. It was like a drug, and after just one touch, he was addicted.
Fallon’s green eyes narrowed as if he knew exactly what Ramsey was thinking.
“Get back to your wife,” Ramsey said. “I doona want Larena angry at me because you’ve stayed away too long.”
The mention of Fallon’s wife and only female Warrior always made Fallon smile. “Aye. She and Isla want to go to Edinburgh Castle to see if they can find the hidden spell that would bind our gods that Laria spoke about. I know it’s long gone from Edinburgh, but the girls say they need to start somewhere.”
“I want to know the progress of that, so keep me informed.”
“Will do. And doona do anything stupid, Ramsey. We need you at the castle.”
Ramsey grinned. “Fallon, I’m no’ the rash one.”
“True, but I wanted to issue the caution just in case. I’ve seen what my sisters-in-law did to my brothers and the other Warriors. It seems that Druids are paired nicely with us Warriors.”
“You have nothing to worry about with me. I’ve no desire to find a woman.”
Fallon slapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck with that. Until later.”
And then Fallon teleported back to MacLeod Castle.
Each Warrior had a special power, and Fallon’s was jumping places in a blink, but he had to have visited the place before. He couldn’t teleport somewhere he’d never been. Which was why he had driven with Ramsey to Dunnoth.
But it did make travel easy with Fallon around.
Ramsey shook his head as he walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a Coke. He unscrewed the cap and tilted it to his lips for a long drink.
There was a huge list of things for him to do around the castle, and with the heavy clouds overhead, there was little doubt that more snow was on the way. Ramsey replaced the bottle of Coke in the fridge and decided to do the outside chores first before it began to snow.
If he waited, they’d start asking why he wasn’t wearing a coat. He couldn’t exactly tell them that he didn’t get cold or hot as mortals did, or that he rather liked the feel of the cold against his skin.
It was just better not to take any unnecessary risks unless it was absolutely essential. He snorted. He’d heard that so many times from his father and uncle that it had stuck. It had been something Ramsey lived by, and only rarely did he take such a risk.
He consulted the list the owners had given him that morning at dawn and searched for the things that needed to be done outside. After making note of the first two, he folded the paper and stuffed it in his back pocket before heading out the door.
Dunnoth Tower sat on the beach, by Sinclair’s Bay in the North Sea. The water was darker and choppier than the sea at MacLeod Castle, but no less pretty.
The salt hung in the air, and the brisk breeze coming off the water only added to the stoic beauty of the castle. It hadn’t stood as long as MacLeod Castle, but neither did it have its grisly history.
Ramsey inhaled deeply as he finished fixing the lock on the gate leading to the private drive of the owners. He walked toward the shed to get the snow shovel and remove the snow from the path leading down to the beach. There were only two guests in the castle at present, but everything needed to stay spotless at all times.
Ramsey had shoveled half of the path when he felt someone watching him. He paused
and leaned against the shovel as his gaze roamed the area.
And came to rest on Tara standing ten feet from him holding a steaming cup of coffee.
His magic swarmed through him as he drank in her beauty. She had a natural look that he liked entirely too much. She wore makeup, but very little, and what she wore only accentuated her large, almond-shaped eyes and full lips.
Her skin was the color of mocha that complemented her long, wavy soft brown hair and golden highlights to perfection. And her blue-green eyes were a shade no color palette could capture.
Her oval face had high cheekbones, a small nose, and gently arching brows. She was of average height, not coming quite to Ramsey’s shoulder, but she was all woman.
With her infectious smile that combined seduction and mischievousness, tantalizing eyes that beckoned, and a voice that made his blood heat, Ramsey wanted her.
Desperately.
But he wasn’t there to woo a woman, no matter how fine a lass she was. He was there to protect her, and find Declan so he could kill him.
Everything else would have to wait.
She smiled and licked her lips as she walked toward him. Ramsey could see she was nervous. The fact she was coming to him was unexpected. From what he had seen of her, and heard from the owners and few other employees, Tara liked to keep to herself and rarely, if ever, answered any questions about herself.
“I thought you might need this,” she said as she handed him the large mug. “Though maybe I was wrong. I don’t know anyone who could stand to be out here longer than a few moments without some kind of sweater at least.”
Ramsey shrugged as he took a sip of the hot liquid. “I like the cold.”
“I can see that,” she replied with a chuckle.
Her dark, multicolored scarf was wrapped tightly around her throat, and her black coat disguised the shapely body he had seen when she wore just her jeans and a sweater.
Ramsey noticed the way she tried not to look at him too long, and how her gloved fingers kept fidgeting with her scarf or hair.
“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said.
He suddenly realized he’d let the silence between them go on too long. “You didna. I’m sorry. I’m no’ much of a talker.”
She shrugged and grinned shyly. “Neither am I. Usually. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Sometimes a person needs to talk. Even if it’s about nothing.”
Tara nodded. “That must be it. I—”
“Doona stop on my account. Just because I doona like to talk does no’ mean I’m no’ curious about you.”
She tugged a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “I usually like to keep to myself.”
“Usually?”
“Always,” she said with a small lift of a shoulder, her eyes glancing down at her feet. “But I saw you out here and…” She trailed off, this time folding her hands together in front of her.
“The coffee was just what I needed. I thank you.”
Her lips parted as she began to talk, but just then the phone rang. Tara gave Ramsey one more look before she ran into the castle.
“Damn,” Ramsey said as he lifted the cup to his lips, his eyes following Tara. “I’m in trouble.”
CHAPTER THREE
Tara replaced the phone on its cradle and ran the credit card number she’d just gotten for the guest who was arriving later that evening.
She smiled as she looked at the list of requests that had been asked for as the credit card machine verified all the information. As soon as the card was approved Tara made a notation on her sheet.
With the instructions in hand, she rose from her chair, but her gaze was quickly snagged by Ramsey once more. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.
The way his muscles moved beneath the form-fitting tee had her hands itching to touch his tanned skin. Ramsey’s muscles weren’t huge like a bodybuilder’s, but they were visible and very, very pleasing to look at.
“Ripped,” she murmured.
Each muscle, even in his arms, was toned and defined so that there wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. He turned his back to the windows and leaned over, giving Tara a perfect view of his butt.
“What a bum,” said a voice behind Tara.
She jerked and turned around to find one of the owners, Liz Maxwell. Liz cut her hazel eyes to Tara and grinned.
“There’s no harm in looking,” Liz said. “I’ve certainly done enough of it since Ramsey arrived.”
Tara glanced at Ramsey to find he faced the castle once more as he continued to shovel the thick snow. She dragged her eyes away from him and looked at the owner. Liz was in her early forties, but didn’t look it. She worked out and ate healthily, and having a lot of money helped to keep her in high-end clothes and her blond hair impeccable.
Tara smiled. “He is rather good-looking.”
“Oh, please. He’s not good-looking, Tara. He’s gorgeous. Swoonworthy even. I can’t believe he’s not on the telly or in movies. Men like him aren’t easy to find. I’d snatch him up if I were you.”
Tara shrugged, unsure of what to say. Did she want to run her hands over Ramsey and kiss him until she forgot who she was? Definitely.
Did she want a relationship with him where he knew everything about her past and her family? That would be a huge no.
There were too many things in her past she couldn’t outrun, and she didn’t want anyone else hurt when those things caught up with her.
“What’s in your hand?” Liz asked.
“Ah, instructions,” Tara said, reluctantly tearing her thoughts away from Ramsey. “We have a high-profile guest coming tonight to stay through the weekend. He’s surprising his girlfriend, so he has some requests he’d like us to take care of.”
“And who is this high-profile guest?” Liz asked, a big smile on her lips.
“The name was withheld. I was told it was to make sure the media didn’t find out where he was.”
“Well, it isn’t the British royalty. They have castles of their own in Scotland.” Liz tapped her finger on her chin. “I can’t wait to find out who it is. Let’s begin to get everything in order. We only have a few hours. Which room did they book?”
“They’ll be on the fourth floor.”
“Oh, the Duke’s rooms,” Liz said with a satisfied nod.
Tara looked down at the list. “He wants champagne, at least four dozen roses—”
“What color?” Liz interrupted.
“He didn’t say.”
“Hmm. I’m thinking a mix of red, pink, and white. Go on.”
“Chocolate-covered strawberries, rose petals sprinkled over the bed, and lots of candles throughout the room. He’s also requested the best meal our chef can prepare so they can dine in the room tonight. The entire thing is supposed to be a surprise.”
Liz rubbed her hands together. “I’ll talk to Stefan now and also contact the florist about the roses.”
Tara made notations by those items and tucked the pencil behind her ear. “I’ll get on the rest.”
Liz hurried away while Tara removed her scarf and coat. Before she hung them up on the hooks near the door, she grabbed her mittens that were atop her desk and tucked them in the pocket of her jacket.
Unable to resist, Tara took another look at Ramsey. But to her disappointment, he was gone, the path well and truly cleared for anyone who wanted to venture out to the beach.
She sighed and hurried to find the housekeeper.
* * *
Ramsey replaced the shovel in the shed before he returned to his small, one-bedroom cottage and called Arran.
“I guess Fallon told you,” Arran said by way of hello.
Ramsey chuckled. “Aye, he did. There’s little vegetation or buildings to hide you or Charon around the castle. The two of you should come to the cottage and stay.”
“And then how would we have a look around the place?”
“At night, obviously. The closer you are, the faster you can help
me if I need it.”
Arran was quiet so long Ramsey was beginning to wonder if the Warrior realized that he planned to take on Declan himself.
“Charon doesna like the idea,” Arran said finally.
“I doona like the fact that either of you are here, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Fallon wanted you both in case something happened. It’s no’ a matter of if Declan will come, it’s a matter of when. You’ve had to go some distance from the castle in order to find cover. If you’re here, I wouldna have to wait for you to arrive.”
“Doona try to manipulate us,” Charon’s disembodied voice said over the phone.
Ramsey smiled. “All right. I doona trust Declan. I cannot watch both Tara and the two of you.”
“We’re Warriors, Ramsey. Immortal. With powers,” Arran said, his voice thick with irritation.
“Aye. And in case you’ve forgotten, Declan has the X90 bullets filled with drough blood. One drop. That’s all it takes to kill us.”
Arran sighed loudly. “We’ll be there shortly.”
“I’ll leave the back window unlocked.”
Ramsey ended the call and ran a hand down his face. If need be, he would lock Charon and Arran away somewhere so they couldn’t be harmed by Declan.
In their war against Deirdre they had come away with only the loss of Duncan but entirely too many Druids. Ramsey didn’t want any more to die.
Declan didn’t care who got caught in the middle. He was going to kill anyone who got in his way. Ramsey stood a chance against him, but even he wasn’t sure how much of a chance.
During the long centuries of his life Ramsey had tried to call forth his magic while releasing his god only once, and the power of it had frightened him enough not to try it again. Yet, he knew that to battle Declan, he would have to use all of his considerable magic, and the power of his god.
Ramsey turned and looked at the castle through the wide window of his cottage. The tower, which was five floors, rose high above the rest of the castle. The tower had been the original building, and the two additions on either side were built many decades later.
Yet, it flowed well. Dunnoth Tower wasn’t nearly the size of MacLeod Castle, but like any castle, it had its own special history that included one of the previous owners running off with his wife’s sister and leaving his wife to run the castle.
