by Donna Grant
The sound of footsteps running toward them made Saffron glance up. She spotted Sonya and called for the Druid to hurry. When Saffron looked back at Camdyn his eyes were closed and his breathing had diminished to almost nothing.
“No,” Saffron said. “No. He can’t die.”
Dani wrapped an arm around her and held her as Sonya’s healing magic enveloped Camdyn.
“I’m going to need Warrior blood,” Sonya called.
It was Phelan who held out his arm. “Take mine.”
Saffron watched with bated breath as they turned Camdyn this way and that so Sonya’s magic could pull the awful drough bullets from his body.
Phelan cut his arm with one of his golden claws and the blood flowed into Camdyn’s wounds.
“I’m going to need more,” Sonya said.
Isla shook her head. “Nay. Phelan’s blood is … special.”
With just a small amount of Phelan’s blood in each wound Saffron could see them already healing. She rose up on her knees and kissed Phelan on the cheek.
“Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
Phelan blinked, seeming to be taken aback by her show of affection.
“Saffron,” Dani called, her voice filled with horror. “Oh, my God. Your back.”
Saffron had forgotten her back and what Deirdre had done to her. It had been easy because Deirdre’s magic had concealed the wounds and taken away the pain.
Now that Saffron had remembered, she could feel the wounds had opened and blood was pouring down her back and into the sleeveless corset she wore. The pain of her back and the frigid temperatures didn’t matter though now that Camdyn would live.
Phelan stuck his arm out in front of Saffron’s mouth. “Drink. It will heal you.”
She recoiled. “You want me to drink your blood?”
“Just a small taste. You’ll heal faster by ingesting it than if I put it on your wounds.”
Saffron lifted her gaze to Isla who gave her a smile and an encouraging nod. Saffron waited for Phelan to cut his arm again, and then she leaned forward and licked up a bead of blood that ran down his arm.
Immediately she could feel her body healing. “How?” she asked him.
Phelan shrugged and stepped away from her to stand beside Charon.
Saffron forgot all about Phelan as Camdyn groaned and opened his eyes. Saffron smiled through her tears and moved aside a lock of his midnight hair that had fallen in his face.
“Saffron?” Camdyn said.
“Phelan’s blood is apparently very powerful. He healed you after Sonya got the bullets out.”
Camdyn hadn’t expected to live. He’d felt the life drain out of him, had known he was leaving all he knew and loved behind. He hadn’t wanted to, but not even his god could save him.
He climbed to his feet, and after helping Saffron up he held out his arm to Phelan. As they clasped forearms Camdyn said, “I owe you a debt.”
“Nay,” Phelan said and released his arm.
Camdyn helped Sonya to her feet. “Thank you.”
Sonya gave a short laugh. “I did nothing. It was all Phelan.”
“He healed Saffron as well,” Dani said.
Camdyn’s gaze jerked back to Saffron. “What is Dani talking about?”
Saffron shrugged as someone draped a coat around her shoulders. “Nothing.”
“Deirdre flayed her back,” said a male voice in the back of the crowd.
Everyone parted until Malcolm could be seen. No one said a word as they looked at him, the scars Deirdre’s Warriors had given him visible once more now that Deirdre was dead.
Malcolm gave a nod to Saffron. “You can tell Camdyn yourself now.”
“I will,” she said with a smile and slid her hand into Camdyn’s.
Camdyn saw Deirdre’s body as well as Laria’s. “So they both died?”
“Laria was Deirdre’s twin,” Ramsey said. “In Laria’s effort to kill Deirdre, it took her life since they are connected.”
Ian nodded solemnly. “Twins are connected in ways that people doona understand.”
There was a pause as everyone’s mind went to Duncan, Ian’s twin, who was killed by Deirdre’s order but by Malcolm’s hand.
“I’ll never be able to make up for that,” Malcolm said.
Ian released a deep breath. “You helped kill Deirdre. That’s certainly a good start.”
“It’s time to celebrate Deirdre’s demise,” Logan said as he rubbed his hands together.
Camdyn looked down at Saffron and caressed the line of her jaw.
“You didn’t stop coming for me,” she said.
“I told you I’d always protect you.”
“I didn’t lie, Camdyn. I did have that vision of you with your son. I don’t have visions about my future.”
He pulled her against him and gave her a light kiss. He wanted her to forget about that vision for right now. Right now, he wanted her to know how much he loved her. “Did you hear me? I love you.”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. “And I love you.”
“Then that’s all that matters. I fought what was between us, and I was a fool. I know what I feel, and I know you are the other half of me.” He paused and swallowed. His future depended on her. “I need you, Saffron. With me. Always. Without you—”
She kissed him, stopping his words. Her amazing magic swirled around him, uniting them and strengthening their love. “I could never resist you, my Warrior. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”
“Just what I needed to hear.”
EPILOGUE
MacLeod Castle
Later that day …
Camdyn had a new take on life now that he had been given a second chance. He put away the hurt of the past and looked to the woman who had opened his eyes to the world around him.
He laughed more in a few hours than he had in centuries. He even danced. It had surprised Saffron when he pulled her out onto the floor, but her laughter as they danced around the great hall had been worth it.
But more than anything he had Saffron. He didn’t care about her vision she’d had of him and his son. Whatever the future held was not something he could change. He would face it, however painful it was, because her love gave him that strength.
Added to their joy was the call she’d received on her mobile from her attorney stating the judge had halted all proceeds of Elise’s claim of Saffron’s demise. Elise, however, was another matter they’d have to take care of soon.
Camdyn wasn’t looking forward to meeting the woman, but regardless, she was Saffron’s mother.
Saffron touched his arm and whispered, “I need to sit down.”
Camdyn took in her pale, waxy complexion and immediately brought her to the table where she sank onto the bench. “Sonya,” he called.
“I’m fine,” Saffron argued as she laid her head on her arms on the table. “I’m just a little nauseous.”
Sonya hurried to them. “What is it?”
“Saffron. She’s no’ feeling well.”
“It’s just everything I’ve been through,” Saffron said.
Camdyn didn’t need to prod Sonya because the Druid already had her hands raised over Saffron and her healing magic flowing. A few moments later Sonya lowered her arms and slowly looked at Camdyn with wide eyes.
His gut clenched. After surviving death and Saffron living through her time with Declan and Deirdre, he couldn’t imagine her ill. “What is it?”
“She’s carrying your child.”
Saffron jerked so abruptly she almost fell off the bench. Camdyn steadied her, as dumbstruck as she.
“But I was taking the potion you and the others make monthly to keep all of us from getting pregnant,” Saffron said.
Sonya laughed and shrugged her shoulders as she rose to her feet. “What will be, will be. No magic can stop that.”
Camdyn sat beside Saffron as they looked at each other. Then a slow smile pulled at his lips. “My son, perhaps?”
“There’s a first time for everything. You said yourself your magic increased after being in the labyrinth.”
Saffron blinked, an excited smile forming. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”
Camdyn agreed with her, and knew there was something else he needed. “There’s only one more thing that can complete this day.”
“What’s that?”
“Be my wife.”
Her eyes filled with tears before she threw her arms around him. “Yes. God, yes!”
“We’re going to have another wedding,” Hayden bellowed near them.
Camdyn and Saffron shared a laugh and several kisses as the great hall erupted in cheers.
* * *
Malcolm smiled as he watched Camdyn and Saffron celebrate their love. He felt the tug of scarred skin on his cheek and the smile faded. He was able to move his right arm, but only because of the power of his god. With Deirdre gone, her magic was as well, which meant the scars she’d hidden for him were once more visible to the world.
He hadn’t peered into a mirror yet, but he didn’t need to. He knew exactly what the scars looked like. But his scars were nothing. One of the world’s greatest evils was gone.
It felt good to defeat Deirdre and return to MacLeod Castle.
But he couldn’t stay.
As much as he wanted to call the castle home, he couldn’t. The things he had done for Deirdre were too horrific. He needed to atone for those things before he would feel comfortable in the castle again, and he wasn’t sure if eternity was long enough to make up for his sins.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Larena asked as she approached.
Malcolm nodded. “I was going to say farewell this time.”
“Sure,” she said dejectedly.
He tried to ignore her sad smile. “I’ll return. One day.”
“You’re welcome to stay. You belong here, Malcolm.”
He opened the door and looked out at the clouds hovering in the sky, signaling another snowstorm. “I doona know where I belong.”
“You’re family. Remember that,” she said, and kissed his cheek.
Malcolm wrapped his arms around her and hugged her fiercely. “Thank you for no’ giving up on me.”
“Never,” she whispered.
Malcolm lifted his gaze to find Fallon staring at them. Malcolm inclined his head to Fallon who returned the gesture. With a sigh, Malcolm pulled away from Larena.
“Be careful out there,” Larena said.
Malcolm forced a half smile for her sake. “I’m a Warrior. You should worry about everyone else.”
He walked out of the castle before he changed his mind and stayed. He’d already decided where he was headed first. Declan’s mansion. The bastard needed to die.
* * *
Phelan sighed as Isla stood in front of him. He’d ignored her up until then, but the Druid wouldn’t be disregarded.
“Thank you for helping us, especially for what you did for Camdyn and Saffron.”
He shrugged and lifted the mug of ale to his lips. “It’s nothing.”
“I hope you and Charon decide to stay,” Isla said, her ice blue eyes hopeful as she watched him.
Phelan lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I did what I came to do.”
“There is still Declan to defeat.”
“As long as the bastard stays away from me, I doona have a problem with him.”
Isla rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a fool. Declan isn’t done. He has a plan, and all we can hope for is to kill him before he carries it out.”
Phelan stood and set aside his mug. “Good luck with that.”
“Don’t you want your god bound?”
He halted in his tracks and slowly turned to face her. “You have that spell?”
“No, but we’re searching for it. Laria gave us a clue to where it might be. Now that Deirdre is dead, we can search for it.”
For several moments he regarded her before he said, “I like being immortal.”
“Can you forgive me for what I did to you?” Isla asked before he could walk away.
Phelan didn’t bother to look at her as he shook his head. “You took me away from my family when I was just four years old. I doona even remember them or even where I came from. What do you think?”
“You’re from the northern Highlands near Oykel Bridge, Phelan. You had two older siblings and three younger brothers.”
It was more than he’d ever had before, and he wouldn’t beg for more. Phelan strode from the castle toward his motorcycle. A trip to the north was in order.
* * *
Declan sat on the chair and held the mirror up to watch as David stitched the gashes the Warrior had given him when he’d yanked Declan away from Saffron.
He still couldn’t believe Saffron had bested him. She was supposed to have been under a spell, but it appeared the Seer was more powerful than he’d realized.
But more upsetting than losing Saffron was discovering Deirdre was well and truly dead. The MacLeods had beaten her with the help of Laria.
Deirdre was supposed to have been his. They were supposed to have ruled the world together. The MacLeods with their Warriors and Druids would pay for what they had taken from him.
“Declan,” Robbie said as he walked into Declan’s bedroom. “We found her.”
Declan finally had something to smile about. “Tara thought she could stay hidden from me. I told her she’d be back.”
“Shall I go for her?”
“No,” Declan said with a shake of his head. “I’ll go for her. She willna be able to refuse me. Prepare the car.”
Robbie hesitated and Declan narrowed his gaze. “What?”
“I think it would be better if I recruited more men first. All of them died during the battle.”
Declan slammed his fist on his leg and glared at the doctor when he stuck Declan with the needle. “I’ll give you two days to round up some men.”
“Two days,” Robbie repeated, and left the room.
Declan drummed his fingers on his leg. He knew he’d been lucky to leave Orkney with his life. Saffron could have done much more damage had she not been so concerned with that Warrior.
With the spells he’d put around the house there was no way anyone from MacLeod Castle was going to get in. And once he had Tara they wouldn’t be able to get away from him fast enough.
Read on for a look ahead to
MIDNIGHT’S WARRIOR
The next Dark Warrior novel,
coming in December from
Donna Grant and St. Martin’s Paperbacks!
Dunnoth Tower
Northern Scotland
Tara tapped her toe beneath her desk as she discreetly listened to her iPod in one ear. She quite enjoyed her job as a booking agent, tour guide, bookkeeper, and anything else they needed at the castle.
She hadn’t thought of where she would go when she left Edinburgh after that disastrous run-in with the Warriors and Druids. She’d driven and driven and driven until the road had led her to the sea and Dunnoth Tower.
Tara had stopped at the medieval castle to eat and stretch her legs. She’d been instantly taken with the structure and took the tour of it. To her surprise there had been a position open, and she’d applied. She’d started work that very day.
It had only been a few weeks, but she was thoroughly enjoying her time at Dunnoth, which she hadn’t expected after teaching. Yet she found the quiet and peace of the castle and the North Sea helped to settle the turmoil inside her.
It also helped that the owners were pleasant, her co-workers friendly, and the tourists so eager to learn about the castle that they weren’t much of a problem to handle.
Although tourism in the middle of January in the far north of Scotland wasn’t much of anything to talk about. Most tourists were at the ski resorts, but come summer, the castle was going to be very busy.
Tara looked forward to it. For now, she wa
s reading over the accounting books to make sure everything was in order, and booking the castle for the summer.
A door opened to her left and in walked the newest castle employee. Tara’s mouth had dropped open the first time she saw the tall, black-headed hunk with the amazing gray eyes that seemed to see right into her soul.
That had been the day before. And now she found herself staring at him again as he walked across the entryway and began to work on the electrical outlet that had shorted out months ago.
Though this time she did manage to keep her mouth closed and not make a complete fool of herself.
He filled out his navy short-sleeve tee to perfection with his thick shoulders and muscular arms. Yesterday evening they’d been hit with a rain and snow mix, and he’d been caught in it. When he’d come rushing into the castle with his shirt plastered to his abs, she’d been able to count each and every muscle in that washboard stomach of his.
Having seen that made her wish she could see him without his shirt on to get a good glimpse of that tanned skin and ripped body.
Tara smiled. She’d always been a sucker for a man who knew how to take care of himself. But with Ramsey it wasn’t just his body. It was his long, black hair that hung past his shoulders with just a hint of a wave to the shiny locks. He kept it pulled away from his face in a ponytail, but she longed to see him with it all down.
Then there was his face. She sighed. What a face it was. Sculpted jaw with just a small shadow of whiskers, square chin, strong nose, and a high forehead with black brows slashed over his eyes. His lips were full and wide, and he had eyelashes so thick, so black that any woman would be envious of them. His steel-gray eyes held a hint of laughter in them, as if he knew far more than anyone around him, and he wasn’t going to share.
“Good morn,” Ramsey said in his deep baritone voice.
A shiver raced over Tara’s skin every time he spoke, like her body was dialed into his husky voice. “Morning, Ramsey.”
“What are you listening to?” he asked. He stopped at the wall and bent to open his toolbox and pulled out a couple of tools.
Tara blinked. “Huh?”
Ramsey glanced at her and smiled. “Your music, lass. What are you listening to?”
