by Donna Grant
Now she understood what had made him so angry when Charon fell. Now she understood why Fallon had hastened to get the wounded out.
She understood all too well that Declan had the upper hand. And she was well and truly screwed.
“I see you get my point,” Declan said as he rubbed his hands together eagerly.
Tara hadn’t paid any attention to the two men holding her. They wore masks to protect their faces from the cold, so it wasn’t as if she’d be able to identify them.
Then something sharp bit through her coat and sweater to pierce her skin. She lowered her head to give Declan the impression she was defeated and saw a white claw before it quickly disappeared.
Hope sprang up in her chest. She wasn’t alone. Somehow Arran was there, and Declan didn’t even realize he had a Warrior so close to him.
Tara lifted her head and glared at Declan. “I’ll die before I turn drough.”
“You say that now,” Declan said as he clasped his hands behind his back and took another step closer to her. “Soon you’ll be begging me for mercy, begging me to do anything to stop the pain. Shall I give you a taste?”
She didn’t have time to prepare herself as she doubled over in agony so fierce, so terrible, she couldn’t breathe. The pain came from everywhere as it racked her entire body, leaving her sagging in the arms of her captors, a silent scream locked in her throat.
“You are no’ what I call beautiful,” Declan whispered in her ear as Arran and the other merc continued to hold her up. “But you are passable, and my men would like a turn at you. I’ll give you to them, Tara. I’ll let them have you again and again until you withdraw so far into yourself that you willna be able to stand against me. Your magic will be mine to command.”
“Does your conceit know no bounds?” said a deep, growling voice filled with rage.
Tara managed to glance up and see Ramsey in all his Warrior glory behind Declan despite the agony running rampant through her. Ramsey’s shirt was gone and blood coated his chest, but he still stood despite the bullet wounds that marked his chest and arms.
“Thank you for holding him, Arran,” Ramsey said.
Declan looked at the men on either side of Tara. Arran released his hold on her and ripped off his mask and smiled, showing Declan his fangs.
The pain hadn’t lessened within Tara, and without Arran to hold her, she toppled to the ground. She caught a glimpse of the merc grabbing for his rifle and kicked out with her foot. Since he was already off balance with her fall, it didn’t take much to bring him down with her.
“I doona think so,” Ramsey said as he touched the merc’s rifle and turned it into a toy gun.
“You willna stop me from having what is mine!” Declan bellowed and threw up his hands.
Arran went flying backward, landing with a bone-crushing sound against the cottage. But Ramsey didn’t budge.
“You will fail, Declan,” Ramsey said.
Tara wanted to watch them, she wanted to see Ramsey tear Declan apart, but the pain was too much. She wrapped her arms around her middle and curled into herself.
“Tara,” a female whispered in her ear.
Tara briefly opened her eyes, but didn’t see anyone besides Ramsey and Declan.
“I’m Larena,” the disembodied voice said. “I’m Fallon’s wife, and a Warrior. My power is invisibility. I need you to hang on a moment longer. Fallon will be here in just a second.”
“No,” Tara whispered. Despite the pain, she didn’t want to leave Ramsey.
A hand was placed on Tara’s shoulder. “Ramsey will be fine. He cannot do what needs to be done until you are gone.”
Less than a second later she was lifted off the ground by Fallon who said, “Declan is all yours, Ramsey.”
In the next instant all the pain left her body. All Tara could do was let out a long breath, her body exhausted from the ordeal. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in the middle of a great hall surrounded by men.
“Are you all right now?” Fallon asked her.
Tara swallowed and gave a slight shake of her head. That’s when she noticed a beautiful woman with short red curls leaning over Charon, her hands above him and her eyes closed.
“He willna answer the damned phone,” said a giant of a man with blond hair as he stalked from one end of the hall to the other.
A petite woman in jeans and a gray sweater with long black hair joined her hands with the redhead’s and said, “Hayden, please keep trying.”
“I’ve found him,” said another man who stood away from the rest with indigo skin and leather wings folded behind his back.
Fallon put Tara down on a bench near the long wooden table. “How far away is he, Broc?”
“Too far for me to take the time to fly,” Broc said.
“Where?” Fallon repeated.
Broc fisted his hands. “A pub in Edinburgh. Somewhere you have no’ been, Fallon.”
Tara watched Fallon’s expression harden. So he could teleport, but obviously he couldn’t go somewhere he’d never been before.
Another man with dark blond hair and cobalt eyes lifted his head. Beside him was a woman with mass of curly auburn hair who frantically tried to see to the wound in his leg.
“I can help,” the man said.
Fallon slammed his hand against the wall. “Galen, you’re wounded.”
Galen waved Broc and Fallon over. “Come. I doona have much left in me.”
Tears filled Tara’s eyes as she realized all the Warriors there were slowly dying, and Charon, who hadn’t moved on the table, might already have died.
Everyone there was injured because of her. Because she’d been too stubborn to leave when Ramsey had asked.
“Broc?” Galen said between clenched teeth as he placed his hand on Broc’s head.
“I’ve got the pub in my head,” Broc answered.
A second later Fallon put a hand on both men’s shoulders and they were gone. Almost immediately Fallon returned with Galen, who slumped to the ground.
“Go!” bellowed another Warrior to Fallon.
Fallon’s gaze met Tara’s before he disappeared.
As worried as she was for all the ones injured in the hall, her mind was on one Warrior in particular—Ramsey.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ramsey would have preferred that Fallon had gotten Arran out with the rest, but Ramsey would ensure that his friend wouldn’t get hurt when he unleashed everything on Declan.
He waited, amused, as Declan looked around to find all his men down and Tara gone.
“What have you done?” Declan screamed as spittle flew from his lips.
The snow and wind had stopped, making everything eerily quiet. Ramsey lifted one shoulder in a shrug. He couldn’t lift both because of the bullet in one.
It hurt like hell, but the drough blood wasn’t having the same effect on him as it did with the other Warriors. He suspected it was because he was a Druid, but none of that mattered now.
“I’ve ensured that you’ll never have Tara,” Ramsey answered.
Declan took a deep breath and slowly released it, using that time to get his anger under control. “You’ve no idea what you’ve done, Warrior.”
“You call me that as if it’s derogatory.”
“It is,” Declan said with a sneer.
Ramsey walked slowly around him. “You’ve your drough ancestors to thank for that.”
“I’m going to end all of you Warriors. The gods may still live on in the bloodline, but there will be no scroll or spell known to unbind them. And there will be no Warriors to attempt to stand in my way.”
“You underestimate us if you think we’re so easy to get rid of.”
Declan threw back his head and laughed. “My X90 bullets seem to do the trick.” His gaze narrowed on Ramsey then. “Except with you. What makes you so special?”
A slow, deadly smile tilted Ramsey’s lips. “You’re about to find out.”
Ramsey’s magic had bubbled beneath the
surface since he’d released his god after seeing Charon fall. He’d barely kept it at bay during the battle, and it was only thoughts of Tara that had allowed him to do so.
But now he was free to do as he wanted.
He took a deep breath and let his magic fill him and mix with the power of his god. With a flick of his wrist Ramsey sent Declan flying over the cottage and far away from the castle.
Ramsey used his speed and caught up with Declan before he could raise himself off the ground. Ramsey thought of all Declan had done to Saffron and all Declan had wanted to do to Tara. He embraced the fury rising within him. Embraced it, and welcomed it.
He kicked Declan in the ribs, tossing him in the air once more. Declan landed with a grunt and lifted his hand palm out.
Ramsey anticipated his move and stepped to the side as a blast of magic went past him.
“Who are you?” Declan demanded angrily.
“The one you should have stayed away from. The one you should be terrified of. The one who will end you.”
Declan lunged to his feet unsteadily as he held an arm against his broken ribs. “You are nothing more than a Warrior who’s had the aid of magic from some Druid to keep you standing.”
“You think you know so much about Druids, but in fact, you know very little.”
“I know as much as I need to know. I know that as a drough, there is no Druid more powerful than me.”
Ramsey took a step toward the weasel and lifted his lips to show his fangs again. “There used to be.”
“You’re wrong,” Declan snapped before he turned his head and spat.
Ramsey threw his arms wide as his magic began to swirl around him. He was tired of Declan’s inane babble, tired of seeing such an evil face. Declan’s time was at an end. He just didn’t know it yet.
The sheer power that swam through Ramsey was amazing. He’d never felt so dominant, never felt so powerful. At that moment, he knew he could do anything, conquer anyone.
“It’s time you die,” Ramsey told Declan.
Declan’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Wait,” he pleaded.
But Ramsey wasn’t interested in anything Declan had to say. He gathered his potent mix of power and magic, letting it grow and grow so that in one blast Declan would be ended.
He was about to release a shot of magic when something slammed into his back three times in quick succession. The added drough blood from the X90s sent Ramsey onto one knee.
There were so many of the bullets inside him that he’d lost count, but these last three were apparently too much for even him to take without feeling the effects. He clenched his teeth as his blood began to burn in his veins.
“It hurts, does it no’?” Declan said with a smile.
Ramsey’s lungs seized, and he put one hand on the ground to keep his balance as the sound of a chopper neared. He had this one chance to end Declan. He had to do it now before he lost consciousness.
He focused on Declan as he ignored the pain in his body. His magic was ready and waiting for him.
“Doona even try it,” said a man as he put the end of the rifle against Ramsey’s heart.
Ramsey looked up at the man and smiled. There was no need for him to touch the rifle since it was already pushing against him. With just a thought, his power transformed the rifle into a rubber chicken.
As the man looked at what used to be his weapon, Ramsey sent a blast of magic into him, hurtling him backward. With the helicopter landing not far from him, he had little time to get to Declan.
Ramsey pushed to his feet and took a few awkward steps toward Declan. His body wasn’t working properly, and Ramsey knew his time was running out.
“Robbie!” Declan shouted.
Out of the corner of Ramsey’s eye he saw the man he had sent flying rushing to the chopper. Ramsey held up his hands and sent magic toward Declan at the same instant Declan fired a pistol.
The bullet slammed into Ramsey’s chest, missing his heart by millimeters. He toppled backward into the snow. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was Declan’s scream of pain.
* * *
Phelan saw Fallon and Broc come storming into the small pub. He didn’t bother to move from his position at the bar. Phelan wasn’t surprised they had found him. After all, Broc’s power was to find anyone, anywhere. The reason they were looking was what mattered. He’d left the castle because he wanted no part in their quest.
Phelan waited for them to speak as they walked up, but then Fallon put a hand on his shoulder and in the next instant he once more stood inside MacLeod Castle.
“Fuck me!” he said as his glass full of beer crashed to the floor. “What the hell is this about?”
“You wouldn’t answer your mobile,” Hayden ground out.
Phelan pulled the phone out of his pocket and shrugged. “I never heard it ring.”
“You were needed,” Fallon said. “Please.”
Phelan looked around at the Warriors to find most of them wounded. “Shit,” he murmured.
“Here first,” Isla called.
Though Phelan was curious as to what had happened, he wasted no time in rushing to the table. As he neared and recognized Charon though, he paused for a heartbeat as he looked at the numerous holes in his friend’s chest.
“Phelan,” Isla urged.
He cut open his wrist. There were too many wounds and by the way Charon’s chest barely moved, Phelan had just one way to heal him. “Open his mouth,” he told Isla.
The Druid complied, and he let several drops of his blood fill Charon’s mouth.
Without a word he moved from Warrior to Warrior until all the wounded had his blood inside them. Phelan ran his finger over the now-sealed cut on his wrist and did a quick count.
“You’re missing two.”
“And we need to go get them. Now,” said a woman with golden-brown hair and clear blue-green eyes.
Phelan shrugged and released his god as he faced Fallon. “Let’s go then.”
Just as Fallon put a hand on him, Phelan saw the woman rush to Fallon and grab his hand.
“Dammit, Tara,” Fallon shouted after he had teleported them into the middle of nowhere.
Tara looked from Fallon to Phelan. “I won’t apologize. I’ve a bad feeling. I need to find Ramsey.”
Phelan liked her spunk, but women who were stubborn like Tara tended to get into trouble. And trouble wasn’t what Phelan was looking for.
“Where are they?” Tara asked softly.
Phelan didn’t like the quiet that surrounded them. They were at the sea, the wind should be blowing. But there was nothing. Only a stillness that unsettled him.
“Fallon?”
“We had Declan cornered,” Fallon answered Phelan. “Ramsey wanted to take him out himself.”
Phelan shook his head as he started for the castle. “By the looks of those I just healed, things didna go as planned.”
“We were supposed to be a step ahead of him,” Tara said.
“Fallon!” shouted a woman.
All three jerked to a stop.
“I’ve heard that voice before,” Tara said. “She said her name was Larena.”
Phelan frowned as he looked at Fallon. “You left your wife here?”
“No’ on purpose. She stayed invisible, and I’m guessing to see what happened with Ramsey and Declan.”
Something moved in the growing darkness near the castle, and Fallon took off toward it.
Phelan stayed behind with Tara as they made their way at a much slower pace. They had gotten only halfway there when Fallon teleported to them.
Except he wasn’t alone. He had Larena and Arran.
Tara rushed to Arran. “What happened? Where’s Ramsey?”
Arran couldn’t look her in the eye. “I’m sorry, Tara. I doona know. Declan knocked me against the cottage wall.”
Phelan watched curiously as Tara started calling Ramsey’s name while she did her best to move through the thick snow.
�
�Larena, where is Ramsey?” Fallon asked.
The golden-haired Warrior looked at her husband and shook her head. “I saw him toss Declan away from the castle, and I went to Arran to make sure he was all right. The next thing I knew I heard the helicopter, and then it too was gone.”
“Did they take Ramsey?” Phelan asked.
Larena shrugged. “It’s my guess.”
Fallon looked around. “Where were they fighting?”
“There.” Larena pointed in the direction Tara had already headed.
Tara’s shout had them all running to her as she fell to her knees.
Phelan was the first to reach her, and he wasn’t prepared to see Ramsey on the ground, the snow turned red with his blood.
“Someone do something,” Tara pleaded as she moved her hands over him, trying desperately to see if he was alive while at the same time trying to stop the bleeding.
“Nay,” Fallon said as he knelt on the other side of Ramsey. “Nay, this can no’ happen. I willna let another friend die.”
“Ramsey, damn you,” Arran muttered, his voice heavy with emotion.
Phelan noticed that Ramsey’s chest didn’t move, but instead of saying anything, he squatted by Ramsey’s head and held his wrist over his mouth.
“Hold his mouth open,” Phelan said softly to Tara.
She looked up at him, her eyelashes frozen from her tears. With a nod she did as he requested.
Phelan lengthened a claw and once more cut his wrist. He gave Ramsey three times as much of his blood as he had the others, but even then he didn’t hold out much hope.
And then the oddest thing happened. Phelan saw what looked like white smoke rise from Tara’s hand and loop around Ramsey’s head.
Except it wasn’t smoke. It was magic, and many more joined the first smoky ribbon until Ramsey’s entire body was covered with them.
“What the hell?” Phelan murmured.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Tara held her breath, waiting expectantly for Ramsey to open his eyes and tell her everything was going to be all right.
Yet, as the minutes ticked by, nothing happened.
