by Donna Grant
Phelan lowered his eyes to the glass in his hand.
“These men became the first Warriors. They defeated the Romans and had them retreating from Britain. But the gods were no’ satisfied. They wanted to keep killing. It took the combined magic of the mies and the droughs to bind the gods inside the men. They were unable to force the gods back into Hell, and the gods traveled through the bloodlines, going to the strongest warrior each time.
“The spells were no’ supposed to have been written down, but they were. And Deirdre found the spell to unbind our gods. That scroll listed one clan—the MacLeods. So, Deirdre began there. When she found Fallon, Lucan, and Quinn, she murdered their entire clan in order to have them for herself.”
“Stop,” Phelan said. “I doona want to hear more.”
“But you must. You need to know your history. You need to know who you can trust and who you can no’.”
“Can you trust the MacLeods?”
Charon nodded. “The MacLeods were able to escape Deirdre. They retreated to their castle where they stayed for three hundred years. Then Lucan fell in love with a woman who had no idea she was a Druid. Other Warriors who sought out the MacLeods found them. And the MacLeods opened their castle to any Warrior willing to fight Deirdre. As well as any Druid—mie or drough—looking for sanctuary.”
Phelan took another drink of the whisky and contemplated the liquid for a moment before he asked, “Are there really good Druids?”
“Aye. You saw them at the Ring of Brodgar. Even Isla, who was forced to become drough by Deirdre, is no’ truly a drough. She has the power of the black magic, but the evil doesna rule her.”
“Is that why she released me?”
“I think she released you because she never wanted to bring you there to begin with. Isla had many opportunities to harm me while I was in Cairn Toul. Yet, she never did.”
Phelan leaned forward and set the glass on Charon’s desk down carefully. “If all you say is true, and you believe it so much that you’re trying to convince me, I ask you again. Why no’ help the MacLeods?”
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
A war raged inside Malcolm. His claws were sunk into his palms as he fought to keep himself still and not kill those around him.
Not that he could kill them. Deirdre had survived death once, and Declan, well, Malcolm was relatively sure the bastard would somehow survive death as well.
Yet, Malcolm couldn’t take his eyes off Saffron. Deirdre and Declan had taken turns trying to wake her from her magic-induced sleep. When that hadn’t worked, they had begun using magic on her.
It hadn’t taken long for the smell of blood to fill the dungeon. That hadn’t satisfied them though. And somehow Saffron had slept through it all.
“Robbie, string her up,” Declan called.
Malcolm growled as Robbie slung his machine gun around so that it rested against his back. Robbie smiled at him and walked into the cell where Saffron was still sitting. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and her nose, but she hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Help him,” Deirdre ordered Malcolm.
He wanted to refuse, wanted to tell Deirdre to go to hell where she belonged. But then Malcolm thought of Larena. He bit back his words and strode into the cell where Robbie had grabbed Saffron’s upper body.
Malcolm bared his teeth, showing Robbie his fangs. A low, menacing growl followed that had Robbie taking a step back so quickly Saffron listed over, banging her head on the cement floor.
Without another look at Robbie, Malcolm lifted Saffron in his arms. All he could think about as he walked her to where Declan and Deirdre awaited was her asking him to tell Camdyn she loved him.
Love.
Malcolm certainly believed in it. He’d seen it with his own eyes between Larena and Fallon as well as the other couples at the castle.
Though he never expected to find it for himself.
Somehow, against all odds, the quiet, withdrawn Camdyn had found it. Malcolm couldn’t help wondering if Camdyn knew where Saffron was. As soon as Malcolm thought it, he knew Camdyn didn’t. Because every Warrior from MacLeod Castle would have descended upon Declan’s mansion to rescue Saffron.
Declan raised a brow. “What are you waiting for, Warrior? I said to string her up.”
Rage began to burn inside Malcolm, making it difficult for him to keep his face impassive. He held Saffron with one arm around her upper body while he released her legs. Malcolm reached for the rope hanging from the ceiling and wound the loop around Saffron’s hands.
As soon as he did, Saffron was yanked from his arms as Robbie pulled on the rope.
Robbie’s smile was pure evil. “Is something wrong, Warrior?”
He and Declan called Malcolm that as if Malcolm were embarrassed to have a god inside him with powers none could comprehend. When in fact, the opposite was true.
Malcolm walked to Robbie and jabbed a claw against his shoulder until blood bloomed and soaked the black shirt. “One day verra soon you and I are going to have a serious disagreement.”
“I’m no’ afraid of you.”
Malcolm’s smile was slow as it pulled at his lips. “We shall see how brave you are without your precious gun.”
“Enough,” Declan bellowed. “Malcolm, resume your place.”
Malcolm didn’t move. He took orders from only one person, and then only when he wanted to.
Deirdre’s laugh filled the dungeon. “Ah, Declan, you should know better. No one orders Malcolm or my wyrran but me.”
“Then control your Warrior,” Declan ground out.
There was a pregnant pause before Deirdre said, “Malcolm, you’ve made your point. Let us continue.”
With great effort Malcolm returned to his post in the shadows. Saffron’s body hung by her wrists, slowly swinging back and forth.
Malcolm was wondering what they were going to do to Saffron when Deirdre’s hair lashed out like a whip and connected with Saffron’s back.
* * *
Camdyn walked into Saffron’s chamber and softly closed the door. He looked around the room, picturing her as she sat in front of her vanity and brushed out her hair, or how she twirled a lock of light brown hair around her finger as she talked on her mobile phone.
He walked to the bed and sank onto the mattress. Images of the times they had made love flashed in his mind. Camdyn leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.
He’d left Saffron that last night because he hadn’t been able to face what he’d known from the very beginning. That she was special. Not just because she was a Druid, but special to him.
She was meant for him. He knew that now. Now that it was too late.
He hadn’t wanted to love a woman again, hadn’t wanted to put himself in a position to be hurt as he had been in the past. Even though he hadn’t gone looking for love it had found him. And there was no escaping it.
No matter how much he tried to deny it, Saffron was a part of him. She was in his soul, his psyche. And he wanted her there.
“If only I’d realized this sooner,” Camdyn muttered.
His idiocy could very well have cost him the second woman he had ever loved.
“Nay!” Camdyn bellowed and got to his feet. “I willna give up that easily.”
He stalked to the door and threw it open with such force that it crashed into the wall behind it. Camdyn paid it little heed as he strode to Broc’s chamber.
Camdyn pounded on the door. When Broc didn’t answer it immediately, Camdyn pounded on it again.
“All right!” Broc shouted. “I’m coming.”
The door swung open and Camdyn said, “I need you to look for Saffron again.”
Broc signed wearily and shook his head. “Camdyn, I’ve tried. Numerous times. I can no’ find her, Deirdre, or Declan.”
“I’ve got to find her.”
“And I can help,” said a voice to Camdyn’s left.
He and Broc turned to find Laria wa
tching him.
“Come,” Laria said, and started for the stairs that led down to the great hall.
“She’s your best chance,” Broc said.
Camdyn gave a curt nod and hastened to follow Laria. Hope flared in his chest. It was like a beacon in the darkest of nights, and Camdyn knew all too well how crushing it would be if that hope failed.
But he wouldn’t think about that now. He focused on Saffron, on the love growing in his heart. He had to find her. He would find her.
And he would bring her back to the castle.
* * *
Saffron could see Deirdre’s hair lashing at her back in a kind of out-of-body experience. She could see the anger in Deirdre’s face as Saffron gave no response. She could see Declan’s glee at her blood spilling down her back. Could see her naked self hanging by her wrists.
“They won’t stop,” the ancients said, their collective voices speaking as one. “They will end up killing you.”
Saffron wasn’t ready to die. She had thought she would be protected with the ancients. Even now the drums and chanting were calling her to them.
“You are needed to defeat Deirdre.”
That gave Saffron pause. She had thought it was only Laria that needed to be awakened to end Deirdre. What else didn’t she know?
“It doesn’t matter. You must wake. You cannot fight Deirdre if you are dead.”
Still Saffron hesitated. She knew she wasn’t strong enough to withstand whatever Declan and Deirdre had planned for her.
“You are. Your love for Camdyn will give you that strength.”
Saffron’s mind was suddenly filled with images of Camdyn. Her heart ached for what could have been. “He isn’t mine.”
“It is your love for him that will give you strength.”
Saffron had hoped the ancients would tell her that Camdyn was hers, that regardless of what she had seen in her vision, they would be together.
She should have known better.
With one more look at her bare back where Declan had ripped off her shirt, Saffron saw the crisscrossing of cuts and knew she was going to be in tremendous pain.
But she would do it. For Camdyn. Because she knew how desperately he and the other Warriors wanted Deirdre killed.
Saffron just hoped she survived so she could find a way to kill Declan. Even as the thought went through her mind she knew she wouldn’t.
Declan would never let her go. Never.
Saffron listened to the chanting once more and let the magic fill her. When the magic was nearly bursting from her body, she allowed herself to withdraw from the drums and the chanting.
She kept her eyes closed as she came back to herself. She fisted her hands, biting back a scream as pain flooded her body. Her back felt as if it were on fire, and every breath she took only made the agony flourish.
When it felt as if she were drowning in the pain, her magic welled up and soothed her. Saffron concentrated on her magic, putting all her focus on it. Until she could breathe normally once more.
She opened her eyes to find herself staring at Malcolm. The Warrior’s maroon eyes flared for a second. It was so quick she would have missed it had she not been looking at his stony face.
“I wondered how long it would take you to join us,” Declan said as he caressed a finger down her cheek. “I was hoping Deirdre wouldna have to cut you to pieces, but I was willing to let her try.”
Saffron cut her eyes to Declan and spat in his face. “Do whatever it is you have to do. Blind me, kill me. Whatever. But I’ll never help you.”
“You should know never to say never,” Deirdre said, her voice low and filled with laughter.
Saffron lifted her chin. She’d never been so afraid in her life, but she refused to allow them to see it. They would use it against her. And even though they would most likely win in the end, she intended to fight them every step of the way.
She just hoped it would be enough. Her magic wasn’t that strong, and she hadn’t been able to hold off Declan’s magic. There was no doubt in her mind she would lose against both Declan and Deirdre.
But maybe she could hold them off long enough for Camdyn and the others to get there. If only she knew how to break their blocking spell for just a short while. Maybe then Broc would be able to locate her.
“No one will find you unless we want them to,” Deirdre said as she stroked Saffron’s hair.
Declan leaned close and eyed her bare breasts. “I told you that you would always be mine. Did you think I was jesting?”
“You may win against the MacLeods this time, but in the end, they’ll defeat both of you. No amount of spells, no amount of black magic, will save you from death,” Saffron said.
Deirdre grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked Saffron’s head back. “They will kill you along with us, because you’ll be one of us.”
Dread filled Saffron’s stomach until she thought she was going to be sick. The pain she had held off surged again. She closed her eyes to fight it off.
And then she felt Declan’s and Deirdre’s magic surrounding her, swallowing her. Overpowering her.
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
“The ancients have Saffron,” Laria’s voice rang out in the great hall.
Camdyn blinked and looked around him to see if anyone understood what Laria was talking about. “Explain yourself.”
Laria smiled at him. “She withdrew to the chanting, Camdyn. It was her defense against Declan and Deirdre. While the ancients want to protect her, Declan isn’t going to give up. In his quest to dominate Saffron, he’ll end up killing her.”
Camdyn got to his feet with a roar.
It was Ramsey and Galen on either side of him that held him in check.
“Camdyn, we need to hear this in order to save Saffron,” Dani said.
Ian’s grip tightened on Camdyn’s shoulder. All Camdyn wanted to do was rip someone apart. He wanted to deal out death, to see blood and hear screams of terror, his fury was so great.
But for Saffron he reined in his god and took his seat once more.
“The ancients are convincing Saffron to leave their safety and fight against Deirdre and Declan,” Laria continued.
Gwynn fidgeted with her fingers and asked, “Can she? Does Saffron hold enough magic to fight them both off?”
Camdyn knew the answer before Laria slowly shook her head. There were few Druids who had enough magic to fend off two powerful droughs like Declan and Deirdre.
“Saffron is taking the magic of the ancients in now. I’m hoping that will be enough to break through Declan’s blocking spell so that Broc can find her,” Laria said.
Without being asked, Broc closed his eyes. Camdyn watched his friend across the table, silently begging that Laria was correct and Broc would be able to find her. Even if it was just a moment, it would be enough for them to locate her and possibly rescue her.
“I have her!” Broc shouted as his eyes flew open. “Wait … I lost her again.”
Laria blew out a breath. “As I assumed.”
Camdyn slammed his fist on the table, rattling the glasses. “Where is she?” he demanded of Broc.
A muscle in Broc’s jaw jumped. “She’s in Declan’s dungeon again.”
Camdyn squeezed his eyes closed. The one place Saffron was so terrified of that nightmares had plagued her. Camdyn released a deep breath and looked around him. “I’ll go after her.”
“Wait,” Laria cautioned.
Fallon narrowed his eyes on Laria. “Why? We know where Saffron is.”
“Along with Declan’s mercs and their X90 bullets,” Gwynn added with a glance to Logan.
Logan frowned. “Declan’s is no’ the place to attack. His magic is too strong there.”
“I willna wait!” Camdyn bellowed.
Ramsey said, “But you must. If we want to extract Saffron on the first try, we must be smart about it.”
“I agree with Ramsey,” Hayden said.
One by one they all agreed. Camdyn sa
nk his claws into the table. Every fiber of his being wanted to dash off to rescue Saffron immediately, but his mind told him the others were right. He needed to go about it carefully.
Finally, he gave a quick nod of his head.
“Good,” Fallon said as he rose. “Since we know they’re at Declan’s, I’m going to head there now and see what they are about.”
“Not without me you aren’t,” Larena said as she stood and took his hand.
Camdyn watched them share that secret, loving smile and felt his heart split open at what he was missing with Saffron.
“Trust Laria. We’ll find Saffron,” Ramsey whispered.
Camdyn removed his claws one by one from the wood. “Last time he took her sight. What do you think Declan will do to her this time?”
* * *
Saffron looked at herself in the mirror and hated what she saw. She was dressed in tight jeans and what was nothing more than a corset.
Of course it was Declan who had chosen her clothes.
“Amazing,” Declan said as he walked into the room and whistled.
Saffron looked at him in the mirror and wanted to use her nails to slash his eyes out. But no matter what she wanted to do, or begged her body to do, it was Declan and Deirdre who controlled her.
But they couldn’t control her mind.
She let them think they did, but even that small charade had its price. Saffron wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold up the pretense.
Every minute she expected one of them to realize she was faking it. Saffron didn’t think she could survive another blast of their combined drough magic.
Just thinking about it made her want to retch.
“It’s almost time,” Declan said as he used his finger to move her hair from her shoulder so it fell with the rest down her back.
Saffron merely looked at him. Their control over her body was nearly absolute. They told her where to move and what to do. She couldn’t even speak. They had taken that away from her as well. She liked to think it was because they feared what spells she might use.
“Come,” Declan said, as he held out his hand and turned to the door.
