Midnight's Promise (Dark Warriors)

by Grant, Donna

  He studied her closely. She might have been afraid of him, but not anymore. Too bad she didn’t realize she was tempting a monster whose desire built for her with each breath. “Why do you no’ believe I’m the one after you?”

  “Because you didn’t ask for the one thing they would have.”

  “I see.” With great effort, he turned on his heel and started for the door. Just before he reached it, he paused and looked at her over his shoulder. A dark curl lay just over her breast provocatively, as if begging him to give it a tug … then cup her breast. “You put your soul in danger by remaining here, Druid. Do us both a favor. Leave while you can.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  He met her blue gaze and tried to think what the old him, the man he’d been before he was maimed, would have said to her. He’d have charmed her to get what he wanted, seduced her to his way of thinking.

  It was too bad none of that was left in him. There was only coldness, hardness now. He had a beast within him, but worse, he was becoming that monster inside and out.

  “That’s too bad, Druid.”

  He walked away from her then. Even as he wanted to stay near her magic, he made himself leave the chamber. But not the mountain.

  As much as he wanted to put distance between himself and Cairn Toul, he found himself remaining within the cold, evil structure. Though he couldn’t say exactly why. He could call Fallon and have him retrieve the Druid, saving him from continuing the argument or forcing her to leave.

  He wound his way through the twists and turns to the chamber he’d been given when he was there with Deirdre. It was two levels below the Druid, but that didn’t stop her magic from reaching him.

  Malcolm stood in the doorway and looked at the sparse chamber. There was only a bed and a small table. He’d never actually stepped foot in the room.

  When Deirdre had given it to him, he hadn’t even looked within. He might have had to be in the mountain with her, but that didn’t mean he had to sleep there.

  Malcolm backed out of the room and shut the door. He wouldn’t be sleeping there this time either.

  * * *

  Evie wanted to call Malcolm back. She bit her lip to keep from giving in to the urge. Obviously the infuriatingly gorgeous man didn’t like her. Not that she could discern why.

  It bugged her that he hadn’t asked her name. But more than that, she was disturbed at the lack of information the stones had given about him.

  All they kept repeating—even now—was for her to make him leave. Or kill him.

  Evie wasn’t a murderer. Malcolm might have frightened her at the start, but he hadn’t harmed her. The apathy she glimpsed in his azure gaze left a cold ache in her chest.

  There was such desolation in his eyes, such bleakness that it made her want to cry. How could someone be so empty inside? It was as if every emotion had been severed, as if he were dead inside.

  Despite that, she knew he meant every word when he said he would make her leave the mountain. Which she couldn’t do.

  “I could try and explain things. Maybe he’d help.”

  As soon as she said the words, she knew they weren’t true. It was too bad, because she was sure Malcolm with his bulging muscles and hard stare could stop anyone in their tracks.

  “No. Make him leave!”

  “Why don’t you like him?”

  For the first time, silence met her question.

  Evie took a deep breath and tried again. “Who was the Druid here before me? The one who spoke to you?”

  “Deirdre!” The stones spoke in unison, nearly deafening her with their shout.

  Deirdre? Who was this Druid? And why did it make Malcolm urge her out of the mountain?

  “Tell me of her,” she begged the stones.

  “Powerful. She was powerful! Shouldn’t have died. Was betrayed. She was betrayed!”

  “So she was powerful and she was able to speak to you. You cared for her very much.”

  “She was our mistress.”

  “What did she use Cairn Toul for?”

  “Her home. It was her home.”

  “So she wasn’t safe here.”

  “She left ussssss!”

  Once more there was wailing, as if the rocks were mourning this Deirdre. And they weren’t happy she left. Evie wanted to know more, but she had a feeling the stones were too far gone in their grief to tell her anything else at the moment.

  She climbed back into bed and found her gaze going to the doorway. Where had Malcolm gone? She hoped he was still in the mountain since she had more questions for him.

  Plus, she wanted him to ask her name. Why hadn’t the blasted man asked her name? It was beyond rude, and yet seemed to fit him.

  Evie slid back down on the bed and tugged the covers up to her chin. It was cool within the mountain. Thinking about how it felt to come in contact with Malcolm’s muscular chest helped warm her.

  She went over their conversation, as maddening as it was. That’s when she recalled his mention of Druids. He knew of them. She was going to have to remember to ask him. Because if he knew them, that meant she might not be the last.

  Evie glanced at her watch to see it was half past six in the morning. Normally, she would be up and about. But she was far from normal now. She let her lids drift shut as she thought of Deirdre, Druids, azure eyes, and a deep, sexy voice that made her blood heat.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  Malcolm discovered the small tunnel Broc dug while he’d been in Cairn Toul and found the one place he could remain.

  For hours, Malcolm sat in the opening and simply gazed at the beauty around him. It was stark and wild, harsh and remote, but there was no other place on earth he would rather be.

  The jagged mountains were a stunning sight in any season. The Cairngorm mountain range was also one of Scotland’s top destinations, but despite that, Malcolm didn’t worry about bumping into anyone.

  He grimaced when his phone vibrated for a third time in a matter of minutes. When his mobile vibrated for the fourth time he jerked it out of his back pocket and glared at the screen. Phelan, the bastard, wasn’t giving up trying to get a hold of him. The text read: “Call me or I come and find you.”

  Malcolm knew it wasn’t an idle threat. He dialed Phelan. The Warrior answered on the first ring.

  “About bloody time,” Phelan ground out. “Where have you been?”

  “Busy. What do you want?”

  “No small talk today, aye?”

  “When has there ever been?” He heard Phelan blow out a breath through the phone. “What is it?”

  Phelan paused before he said, “I doona want to wait around for Wallace to attack again.”

  “He’s a crafty one for sure. If we give him time, there’s no telling what he’ll do to the Druids or innocents.”

  “Precisely,” Phelan said.

  “Do you have a plan?”

  Malcolm could almost see the Warrior shrug as he said, “In a way.”

  “Meaning you doona.”

  Phelan chuckled dryly. “It’s coming together.”

  Malcolm started to respond when he heard male voices through the phone. Instantly, he was on guard. Why was Phelan calling him for a battle instead of Fallon? “I know you well enough to know you are no’ at the castle. I imagine you’re with Charon.”

  “Aye,” he readily agreed.

  “Then why are Ramsey and Logan there?”

  Malcolm waited as Phelan muttered something and hushed those around him. Then Phelan asked him, “Will you believe anything I say now?”

  “Only if it’s the truth.”

  There was a small hesitation before Phelan said, “I’m worried about you. You’re pulling away.”

  Malcolm had asked for honesty, which Phelan had given. There was no reason he couldn’t respond in kind. “I am. It’s for the best.”

  “We can help.”

  “Nay, you can no’. I’m too far gone. It’s better for everyone this way.”

>   “And what about Wallace?” Phelan challenged. “You know we need every Warrior and Druid to battle him. Are you going to leave us in the lurch?”

  Malcolm watched a golden eagle soar upon the wind. “We’ve already taken out two droughs, Phelan. Now there’s Jason. After him, who will it be?”

  “Hopefully no one.”

  “Aye, but you can no’ guarantee that.”

  “And Larena?”

  He knew Phelan would bring up his cousin. “She has Fallon. She’ll be all right in the end, and Fallon will move heaven and earth to give her the family she desires. She doesna need me.”

  “Damn but you’re stubborn,” Phelan murmured.

  “You pot, me kettle.”

  Phelan’s laughter filtered through the phone. “You just made a jest. Perhaps you’re no’ as far gone as I thought.”

  Malcolm didn’t correct him. It was better if Phelan thought as he did.

  “You’d let me know if I was wrong, would you no’, Malcolm?”

  He sat there for a moment contemplating his answer. Finally he said, “Do you remember when you left Cairn Toul after being imprisoned for over a century?”

  “I couldna remember anything of my family since I was taken as a lad. Why?”

  “What did you do after Isla freed you?”

  “I wandered all over Scotland trying to learn everything. Each day I thought it would be my last. Yet, somehow, every morning I kept going.”

  Malcolm looked over the edge of the mountain where he sat to the sheer drop below. “Isla told me what she and Deirdre did to you.”

  “Revenge is what kept me going, if that’s what you want to know.”

  “I’ve already taken my vengeance on Deirdre. She’s dead and gone.”

  “Do you want to find a way back to us?”

  Malcolm thought over Phelan’s question but wasn’t sure his friend would like the answer. “When you come up with the plan for Wallace, let me know. I’ll help if I can.”

  “Call Larena. She’ll want to hear from you.”

  “Keep your woman safe. Wallace will still be aiming to harm her.”

  “He can try,” Phelan growled.

  Malcolm ended the call and tucked his mobile into his pocket once more. He wasn’t sure why he kept it. It would be so much easier just to toss it aside and not have to worry about getting calls and texts from the others.

  But if he didn’t answer, they’d have Broc use his power to find him. Then Malcolm would have to deal with them face to face since Fallon would teleport to wherever he was and confront him.

  It was better to keep the annoying mobile phone until such time as it wasn’t needed anymore. Which, Malcolm suspected, wouldn’t be too much longer.

  The Druid’s magic suddenly swelled, and instantly his claws sprouted from his fingers to dig into the stone. He closed his eyes, his lungs locked by the crushing desire that slammed into him.

  It had taken him most of the night to get his body under control because of the constant feel of her magic. With one wave of it, his cock was hard and aching, his body longing to touch her.

  “Nay,” he said between clenched teeth.

  Malcolm refused to acknowledge the craving that coursed through him. If he admitted it—or even accepted it—he wouldn’t be able to stay away from the Druid.

  He drew in a deep, ragged breath and forced himself to remain where he was. If he allowed himself to wonder how no woman had stirred his body since before he was scarred, he would begin to ponder what made the Druid so special.

  And that couldn’t happen.

  Even with focusing on his lungs rising and falling, he couldn’t get the image of her out of his head. That brief glimpse of her feminine curves, of the patch of turquoise lace between her legs made his balls tighten.

  He wanted to yank away the lace at her breast and between her legs. He wanted to lay her on the bed, her glorious curls spread around her as he feasted his eyes upon her body. His hands itched to cup her breasts and feel the weight of them in his hands.

  He yearned to know the color of her nipples and hear her breath hitch as he suckled them. The consuming, devastating longing to sink into her until he was buried to the hilt ate away at him.

  With his chest heaving, Malcolm tried to pull himself out of his musings, but he was trapped. His lips peeled back as he saw himself sink his hands into the Druid’s hair and hold her head as he filled her again and again.

  Malcolm palmed his cock, but it wasn’t enough. He jerked his pants open to free his aching staff and took himself in hand.

  The desire filling him was too raw, too visceral. He wasn’t sure if he could survive it. After so long without feeling anything but rage, he didn’t know how to leash back such reactions.

  His hand began to pump up and down his length as his mind filled with more images of the Druid. Her tempting lips, her expressive eyes. That remarkable body he wouldn’t forget in a thousand years.

  Malcolm’s hand moved faster as he pictured the Druid bending over him, her lips wrapping around his cock and taking him deep in her mouth.

  He jerked as the climax took him, his seed spilling onto his hands and stomach. The release gave him a moment’s peace, but it wasn’t nearly enough to calm the raging need pounding within him.

  Long after he was spent, he sat there trying to figure out what to do. If he stayed in Cairn Toul he would have to face the Druid again. Keeping his desire in check might prove more painful than anything before. If he continued on, he might be able to keep the evil from her.

  If he left, his body would once more be his own. Not to mention he wasn’t the Druid’s keeper. She was an adult who could make her own decisions. If she was foolish enough to believe everything the stones told her, who was he to tell her differently?

  Malcolm cleaned himself and rose to button his jeans. He crawled through the small opening and let the cool air wash over him. For long minutes, he stood on the small outcropping trying to decide if he would leave or stay.

  The longer he waited, the more he began to wonder why the Druid had left Aviemore to travel during a storm. More importantly, why did she think she would be safe in the mountain?

  And just who was after her?

  What had she told him? Oh, aye. She knew he wasn’t the one looking for her because he hadn’t asked for something specific.

  There was a chance it could be Wallace after her. Jason Wallace, after all, was a sociopath who seemed to have a backup plan for everything—even death.

  Deirdre had done the same thing, but in the end they made sure she was dead once and for all. The same would hold true for Wallace.

  Especially for what he’d done to Larena. That was when Malcolm knew he had to remain with the Druid. Even if it wasn’t Wallace after her, she was a mie and there were too few of them left in the world for him to walk away so callously.

  Admit there is another reason. Admit you like how she makes you feel. Admit you want her, that you need her.

  Malcolm squeezed his eyes closed at the sound of his conscience. He refused to admit anything. The Druid was pretty, her magic amazing. That’s all it was.

  That’s all it could be.

  He turned and ducked back into the mountain. With sure, confident steps he made his way to Deirdre’s—or now the Druid’s—chamber.

  To his surprise, she was sitting on the sofa in the sitting room with her laptop open and pounding away on the keys. She was so involved with her work that she didn’t notice him for several minutes.

  Malcolm leaned a shoulder against the doorway and observed her. Her dark curls were pulled away from her face in a queue at the base of her neck, but not even that could tame a few unruly curls that broke free and fell tantalizingly against her cheeks and neck.

  She sat with her legs crossed and a pillow cushioning the laptop, her gaze intent and a small frown upon her brow. A notebook sat on the cushion and a pencil lay on the floor where it had fallen.

  “Well, damn,” she mumbled and leaned h
er head back to stare at the ceiling. A heartbeat later, she lifted her head in his direction.

  As soon as their eyes met, it was like a kick in his stomach. He was sucked into her gaze, enveloped in her magic. It was pleasing, wonderful.

  And startling.

  His body reacted instantly, urging him to taste her lips, to learn her curves. The need was so overwhelming he found himself almost going to her. Thankfully, he stopped himself in time.

  “You’re going to get a stiff neck from the way you’re sitting and looking down,” he told her.

  Her clear blue eyes gave away nothing as she shrugged and looked back at her screen. “Why are you staring at me?”

  “It hadn’t occurred to me to look anywhere else.”

  “Are you always so rude?”

  “Always.”

  She licked her lips and looked up at him. “Are you here to throw me out?”

  “No’ yet.” Touching her would be a very bad idea. “It may come to that, but I’m hoping your good sense will prevail before then.”

  She gave a loud snort and typed something without looking at the screen. “Doubtful.”

  “Who are you hiding from?”

  Wariness stole through her eyes. “I’m not sure exactly.”

  “Then how do you know you need to hide at all?”

  “I just know.” She sat there for a second, her head tilted to the side, before she asked, “Can I trust you, Malcolm?”

  “Nay, Druid. You can no’.”

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  Evie wasn’t sure if anyone had ever been so honest with her in her life. The stones didn’t like Malcolm about. It was obvious he didn’t want to be in Cairn Toul either.

  She gazed into eyes so blue it almost hurt to look at them. A lock of his golden hair fell over his forehead to tangle in his lashes, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  With a deep breath, she set her laptop and pillow on the coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. He was one of those rare men she could look at all day. It seemed every time she saw him there was another side of him.

  Today he seemed calmer, more intent on approaching her another way to get her to leave. He would learn soon enough she wasn’t going to budge. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying him being about.