Doon (Doon Novel, A)

by Langdon, Lorie

  We were roughly the same age, and yet in that moment she seemed like a wise old soul. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a result of the slower aging process or something unique to Fiona.

  “There’s something I don’t get …” I set down my plate and began to pace about the room to work out my thoughts. “If the Protector shields Doon from evil, why are people so freaked out about the witch?”

  Fiona tipped her head. “Freaked out?”

  “It means panicked—agitated. Why do they think the witch could have any influence here?”

  Fiona looked at me kindly. “Because she kin. When Doon was blessed, the witch was cursed fer her evil ways. She’s forever connected ta us. As long as Doon prospers, she suffers terribly—her power is unsteady and weak. The only way the witch kin be free o’ the curse is fer her ta destroy Doon and all the inhabitants along with it.”

  At the far end of the chamber, I pivoted, stage style, and retraced my steps. “But can she really do that? I mean, she was banished, right?”

  “Aye, but even in banishment she’s still connected to us. Everything is a balance, Mackenna. Without the witch, we would not exist—at least no’ like this. There are times—windows—when Doon is verra vulnerable. This is one of them. And when Doon’s weak, the witch grows strong … as evidenced by the black petunias blossoming ‘round her cottage. And she’ll use any means she kin to get stronger. Even good people.”

  “I’m sorry.” What else could I say? When the kingdom was most vulnerable, two American girls appear and everything goes sideways. They were right not to trust us.

  She appraised me with her astute hazel eyes. “Dinna apologize. Ye’ve brought the Rings of Aontacht back ta Doon. And I suspect we’re going ta have need o’ them before this chapter in our history’s done. Trust me when I tell ye, there’s a purpose in all this.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  Tired of Vee’s apologies, I launched a pillow at her head as evidence of my forgiveness. We both knew she was sorry and that she’d never intentionally do anything to harm Doon. Enough end-of-the-world angst already; I was ready to move on to the juicy stuff. Like the details Vee had so obviously omitted from her account the previous afternoon.

  “Sooo—” I casually lounged on Duncan’s giant bed, swaddled in his massive robe. At discreet intervals, I sniffed the flannel fabric, drawing Duncan’s scent deep into my lungs. “Anything interesting happen between you and Jamie at the hunting lodge?”

  Things had definitely changed between them. The king-to-be looked at her with a fierce possessiveness that did not make me want to do summersaults of joy for several reasons—the least of which was his very public entanglement with a teeny-weeny Italian.

  Vee struggled for a moment. Her cheeks turned scarlet as a hint of a smile appeared and then melted from her face. “He kissed me.”

  Underneath her neutrality, I could see she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. “Let me guess. The kiss was awful, like making out with a lizard.”

  “It was a little more than a kiss actually, and it was—um—good.” Her tongue swiped across her upper lip as if she could still taste him.

  “Even better than Eric?”

  “Who?” For a minute, my best friend drew a blank. Her impending breakdown dissipated as she thought harder and then laughed. “Oh, him. No comparison.”

  I feigned disappointment. “So Jamie couldn’t even compare with Eric’s superior skills? Now I’m wishing I’d made out with your ex when I had the chance.”

  In response, Vee lobbed the pillow-missile back at me. “Ow!” And then because I couldn’t resist … “Such a shame Eric’s ruined you for all other guys.”

  “I am ruined—but not by him.” The emotions started to gather again, fueled by her admission. I didn’t need her to say the Completing or recount Jamie’s summons to Sofia to know where her mind was. A moment later, she shook her head. “I’m being a self-centered shrew. Enough with my pity party—what did you do while I was gone?”

  When I told her about spending the evening with Duncan in his chambers, she pursed her lips and said, “Oh, really?”

  “It’s not like you think. Duncan mostly read, and I did what I always do when I’m stressed.”

  She nodded sympathetically. “Show tunes?”

  “My entire repertoire.”

  Although she tried to mask her disappointment, it wasn’t her best performance. “You must’ve talked some, right?”

  I thought about the degradation Duncan experienced when his brother had ordered him to stay behind and babysit like he was hired help. It was as if a light had been snuffed from his spirit. In the two weeks I’d known him, I’d never seen his features so tight and lifeless. He’d closed himself off and bordered on total jerk all evening.

  But Vee didn’t need to hear that. I wasn’t about to tack any more mileage on to her guilt trip. “We were a little freaked out. I wish I could tell you we sat around singing end-of-the-world duets. But we didn’t. We kind of went our separate ways—while occupying the same space. If that makes any sense.”

  “Oh.” Vee frowned. She seemed genuinely upset that I hadn’t shared the same kind of cataclysmic love connection with my prince as she had with hers. But in the great scheme of things, neither event changed anything. Closeness with Duncan would not deter me from leaving the moment the bridge opened any more than her closeness with Jamie would enable her to stay. The only true difference is I would leave by my own decision.

  Not wanting to let her down entirely, I added, “We did sleep together—I mean in the literal sense—in the same room, together. Well, not together together. He slept on the floor and I slept in his bed. But with him just a few feet away, I slept hardly at all. And then when I finally dozed off, I had this crazy dream where he was Spider-Man and we were building an ark with—” I realized I was rambling and abruptly stopped talking.

  Vee waggled her eyebrows with significance. “But you slept with Duncan?”

  “Pretty much. I mean, he slept. I just lay near him and swooned all night.”

  A noise in the doorway, specifically the masculine clearing of a throat, announced the object of said swoonification present and well within earshot of my last comment. Completely mortified, I stared at Vee with huge eyes. With a grimace over my unlucky timing, my best friend dove into the bathroom. The only word I caught in her hasty retreat was “shower.”

  “Sorry to intrude.” Duncan held a small silver tray in his big hands, embarrassment evident on his face. “I brought ye your breakfast, Mackenna.”

  The tray contained a mug of coffee, a covered plate, and a small green vase bursting with lavender. As I leaned over the arrangement and inhaled, my childhood came rushing back. All my happy summers spent in Alloway. Even the vase was a miniature version of Aunt Gracie’s, right down to the design and shade—which made total sense, if hers had originally also come from Doon.

  I breathed in again, pulling the calming scent deep into my being. “Not that you’d have any way of knowing, but lavender is my favorite flower. Thank you.”

  Duncan’s gaze traveled from my face down the length of my body and slowly back up. “’Tis customary, I hear, when a girl sleeps with you.”

  “But we didn’t—” His lopsided smirk stopped me midsentence. He was teasing me—at least I thought that’s what he was doing. His light demeanor carried an undercurrent of something more serious that I couldn’t completely define.

  “Funny,” I drawled, as Duncan set the tray on the end of the bed. “I was under the impression that if a maiden slept with an ogre, she’d wake up with a prince.”

  “And didn’t ye?”

  I slowly shook my head. “Sadly, no. Just the same smelly old ogre.”

  “Tha’s too bad.” His intoxicating brogue dropped a full octave. “Because I woke up with a vision o’ loveliness.”

  The sparkle in his eyes confirmed he’d slain whatever demons he’d been battling the night of the blizzard. Just to
be sure, I asked, “So you’re, um, feeling better?”

  “Aye. And I owe you an apology for my unconscionable behavior. Please allow me to make it up to you by escorting you to the ball tonight.”

  Step, kick, kick, leap, kick touch … Butterflies commenced an impromptu chorus line in my stomach at the thought of spending an entire evening decked out and on Duncan MacCrae’s arm. I’d skipped prom—but didn’t every girl deserve one night to be a princess? While my brain ranted about romantic entanglements and leaving as soon as the bridge opened tonight, my hasty heart ignored common sense and answered, “Okay.”

  Duncan’s resulting smile put an end to any lingering objections. He removed the top off the silver tray with a flourish. “This is the other part of my apology. I made it myself in Mag’s kitchen.”

  I leaned over the dish of fruit blobs and a plate of unidentifiable brown stuff. “What is it?”

  With mock affront, he set the cover down heavily. “Melon balls and crepes. They’re French.”

  I stared dubiously at Duncan’s attempted cuisine. “I know what crepes are, but someone forgot to tell that stuff on the plate.”

  “You’re a right hilarious lass, Mackenna Reid.” He gave me a playful shove that would’ve knocked me onto my breakfast had I not tensed for it. The playful gleam in his eyes faded into something more responsible as he bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet. “Unfortunately, I canna stay. I’ve much to do before the coronation.”

  Disappointment burned through my chest. By tomorrow, I would be gone. Did he really want to waste the time we had left? Feeling reckless, I picked up a piece of melon and slowly slid it into my mouth with a throaty murmur of delight.

  Duncan’s gaze riveted to my lips as he eliminated the space between us in two strides.

  His large hands settled firmly, yet gently, on my hips. I angled my head to the right in feigned surprise and his tipped left in a hormonally charged game of chicken.

  Batting my lashes, I whispered, “Sure I can’t tempt you to stay?”

  “Nay.” A muscled ticked in his set jaw as his dark head managed a nearly imperceptible shake.

  He was trying to beat me at my own game. But my acting skills gave me an advantage, both in discernment and one-ups-manship. I pressed my palms flat against his chiseled abdomen—low—and had the satisfaction of seeing his nostrils flare as I gave him a light shove. “Then you’d better go, Ogre.”

  He overpowered my feeble attempt to repel him as if I were a paper doll. My heart thrummed against his body like an overexcited bird as he closed the gap between us. My eyelids drifted closed, as Duncan … kissed the tip of my nose?

  I sensed him straighten up, while I waited idiotically with my eyes shut and my lips puckered. I might as well have worn a neon sign around my neck that said, “Desperate.” My lids snapped opened to find Duncan grinning at me. He appeared quite pleased with himself.

  “Good-bye, Vision.” With a light chuckle, he released me and walked away.

  The pompous jerk had won our little match. But the knowledge that he could and would walk away from me left a bitter taste in my mouth. Yes, I wanted him to get on with his life, but I didn’t want it to be easy. It wouldn’t be easy for me.

  Listening to Duncan’s retreating footsteps, I felt like the unfortunate recipient of one of those cheesy vacation T-shirts: I slept with a Scottish prince and all I got was this lousy breakfast. Nauseated, I put the lid back on his sweet attempt at a homemade meal.

  As soon as the front door closed, the bathroom opened behind me. Certain Vee’d been eavesdropping on my encounter with Duncan, I braced for her unsolicited opinion. Rather than comment about the tray of misshapen breakfast food, she tossed Aunt Gracie’s journal on the nightstand and turned to challenge me. “Maybe you should think about staying.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  Her big turquoise eyes pleaded with me to be reasonable. Well, her version of reasonable. “At least think about it.”

  “I have—and if I don’t leave, I’ll be trapped here. With no Broadway, and no guarantee that it would work out with Duncan. What if I stay for him and then he imprints or something?”

  “Imprints? Uh, he’s not a werewolf.”

  “You know what I mean. What if he has a Calling? Then I’ll be forced to spend my very long life watching him make googly eyes at some skank that I’ve sworn to hate on sight.”

  Vee’s eyes turned fierce as angry tears gathered in the corners. “Love is a risk. Even with a Calling, nothing is sure. But if you want him, you need to fight for him!”

  Holy segue, Marvin Hamlisch! We were no longer talking about the absurd challenges of my love life. “So Jamie admitted that you guys have a Calling?”

  She flopped onto the bed as if her bone structure was no longer capable of supporting the crushing weight of her disappointment. “Pretty much. But he’s also got a duty to his kingdom, and a fiancée.”

  “Alleged fiancée,” I countered as I sat beside her. “I haven’t seen a ring on that freakishly tiny finger, have you?”

  Vee propped herself up on her elbows so that I had the benefit of seeing the determined expression fueling her counterargument. “No. But Jamie’s an honorable guy. If he’s got an understanding with Sofia, he’ll keep it.”

  “What about the honor in obeying his Calling?”

  “Please, just stop.” She rolled away from me onto her side, signaling I had pushed enough for the moment. Vee didn’t buckle easily, so I took the cue and backed off. She was afraid of getting hurt. I got that. People had been letting her down her whole life. But if she wanted this bad enough, she still had time to make it happen.

  Changing tactics, I stood and walked around to sit on the other side of the bed. “Fine. You can make like Cinderella and disappear at the stroke of twelve. But until then, I’m acting as your FG.”

  “FG?”

  “Fairy Godmother.” I took Vee’s hands and gently pulled her up until we were eye to eye. “I’m going to make you all fancy, then you’re going to go to the ball and party like a rock star to ensure Jamie MacCrae regrets letting you go for the rest of his very long life.”

  Vee chewed her lip as she thought over my proposal. “Okay. I’ll be your cinder girl, if you do something for me.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Pretend you’re not turning into a pumpkin at midnight.” When I started to protest, she cut me off. “Give Duncan a real chance. Let yourself be in love with him—just until we leave.”

  Could I pretend to love him? Vee gave me a slight nod of encouragement and I read her thoughts as easily as if they were my own. Even if Duncan and I hadn’t shared a Calling, I was somewhat crazy about him. I didn’t need to pretend I had feelings.

  If I didn’t make the most of our last night, I would most likely regret it for the rest of my life. Giving me the final push I needed, she extended her hand. “Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  We shook on it and then Vee clasped me in a bear hug. When she pulled back, her face was troubled. “I’ve got to tell you something else. Another reason why I can’t stay …”

  She hesitated long enough to take one of her deep yoga breaths. “I don’t want to tell you, and I’d even convinced myself to keep it from you for your own good. But then I started to think about the situation being reversed and how I would feel in your shoes.”

  “Whatever it is—just say it.”

  Her grave eyes seemed far too old for her innocent face. “I know who the witch is.”

  “What?” Blindsided by her confession, my mind swirled with questions. “Who? And when? I meant how? And why didn’t you—”

  Vee held up her hand to stop my barrage and then paced away. “When I went to see the king, I had a vision … or something. The journal’s cursed. I wanted to tell you, but then the king died and all I could think about was getting it out of Doon. And—well—you saw how well that plan worked.”

  Deliberately, I stepped into her path and blocked her ramble. �
�Who is it?”

  “It’s Adelaide Dell—Addie, Dunbrae’s caretaker.”

  I thought about the modern, stylish woman with her no-nonsense demeanor. “Addie’s the old hag who’s been after Doon for centuries?”

  Her gaze narrowed and I could see her mind replaying events I couldn’t see. “I read that the witch who attacked Doon was named Adelaide Blackmore Cadell. But in my vision, it was Addie.”

  “Do you think Ally knows?” I considered the sweet girl who’d shown us around Alloway.

  “I don’t think so. That’s why she didn’t bring Ally with her when she came to the cottage. She acted … odd, remember? I’m certain she did something to your aunt’s journal and then planted it for us to find—”

  “Manipulating us into crossing the bridge.” I didn’t doubt Vee for an instant, remembering the way Addie fawned over Gracie’s journal and calling my bestie a “clever” girl. She’d been the one to pack my aunt’s things away in the first place. “That witch played us!”

  “Yep. And I carried the journal into the kingdom for her.” Vee squeezed her eyes shut in recrimination. “I’m responsible for everything that’s happening. If she destroys Doon, it’ll be my fault.”

  Fiona’s words about the witch growing strong in Doon’s weakness filled me with dread. Could the journal tip the scales in her evil favor? I indicated the book sitting benignly on the nightstand. “We need to destroy that thing, now!”

  “We can’t. I tried burning it, and when that didn’t work … well, you know what happened next.” She tucked the small book protectively to her chest and walked to the window. “As soon as the Brig o’ Doon opens for the Centennial, I’m taking the journal out. I’ve got to make things right.”

  I slung my arm around her shoulder, careful not to touch the cursed journal. Although she abandoned me, she’d been trying to protect us. I would not let her carry this burden alone any longer. “We are going to make this right.”

  For a moment, we stood in silence and contemplated the gorgeous view. The dazzling morning sun had eradicated the last icy reminders of the blizzard so that the idyllic countryside looked just like it had on our first day. Heather dotted the hills. Birds called back and forth. Doonians went about their lives. Ironically, it was as if the witch hadn’t nearly succeeded in bringing about the end of their existence. For most living beings in Doon, everything was exactly the same as before.