Pride lit Adlin’s face. “Aye, you’re catching on fast, lass.”
“Aye,” Tiernan agreed, just as impressed. “Your magic will guide you more and more.”
He put his hand over hers, in comfort, and she was grateful. Sure, it was a little cool simply knowing things out of the blue, but it was also jarring and discomforting.
“Julie, you said back in New Hampshire you felt Balliol’s disinherited nobles were at the root of this,” Tiernan continued. “Do you still feel that way?”
“Absolutely.” She’d never been surer. “I don’t know if they’re the same men or working alongside them, but those warrior monks are definitely tied in with the nobles.”
Adlin nodded. “Then we have a sense of direction.” He looked at the others. “We also have the daunting ongoing issue of our fluctuating magic.” He shook his head. “That I couldnae even connect with my son was beyond troubling.”
“Aye,” Marek agreed. “The same sort of thing is happening with us dragons.”
“Which must tie in with not being able to embrace our inner beasts,” Cray added.
“Oh, you did okay with that,” Julie teased, well aware the liquor was at work.
Cray, in turn, didn’t quite smile at her, but he didn’t scowl either. She’d call that progress.
As to be expected of dragon males, especially ones who descended from the MacLomain’s Sigdir line, he and his brother were clearly a force to be reckoned with. It would be interesting to see which of her friends were meant for them because from what she’d seen over the years, being with a dragon was a unique experience.
Her eyes slid to Tiernan. Yet here she was possibly meant for an arch-wizard. An experience she suspected would far outdo unique.
“So, Grant is watching over David whilst you are here?” Aidan asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Now there was a lady killer with his enchanting eyes and sexy dimples. Where Ethyn seemed quickest to humor she suspected under his contemplative, steadfast nature, Aidan was fairly lighthearted too. But then he'd have to be to get along so well with Tiernan.
“Aye, Grant watches over wee King David,” Adlin confirmed. “Though ‘tis best, Tiernan and Julie return soon.”
“Mayhap I should join them,” Aidan offered. “’Twould do my heart good to see great-granda again, such as he is.”
“What of your clan?” Milly asked. It was clear she liked the idea of him going along. “Will they fare well without you?”
“Aye,” Aidan assured. “Da’s seeing to them just fine.”
She had heard good things about his father Conall and his mother, Lindsay, a former Hollywood actress. Hopefully, she'd meet them before this was all over. She'd also love to meet Marek and Cray's parents, Bryce and Jessie, but time would tell. Best that she didn’t get too far ahead of herself and assume she might be able to stay. That she might be able to be part of all this. To finally settle down somewhere and call it home.
“Might it not be prudent for all of us cousins to go along with Tiernan and Julie?” Ethyn proposed. “Or mayhap some of us should go to the future to find our Brouns before ‘tis too late, and we might not be able to time travel?”
“I think it’s already too late,” Julie whispered, trying to pinpoint the odd sensation washing over her. “Something about those stones...”
“Och,” Adlin murmured. His eyes flared with magic when they connected with hers. “Whatever they’re doing to those stones is the same thing that’s affecting our magic...” His brows flew up in surprise. “Yet, it makes yours stronger by the moment.”
“Because I can still travel,” she whispered, sensing the ley-lines, seeing them as though she still stood in the circle of stones. “I can travel along them, can’t I?”
“Aye,” Tiernan murmured, sounding certain.
But then he was in her mind.
She glanced at him, jolted by the sudden sensation she had.
“You’re...in me somehow...” she said. “In a different way than just hearing my thoughts and telepathic words.” She took another sip, never taking her eyes from his. “What is this feeling?”
Adlin cocked his head, considering them, more so Tiernan. “What does it feel like, son?”
“Like...love,” he whispered, clearly trying to narrow it down more. He shook his head. “But stronger if possible...”
“It sounds an awful lot like what Brouns and MacLomains feel when the magic of the Claddagh ring ignites,” Milly mentioned.
“Aye,” Adlin agreed.
“It also sounds like mating,” Cray muttered, his anger back, his pale brown almost golden eyes turbulent.
That’s when she felt it. Cray’s recent loss from the illness that swept through Scotland. Not just his but Aidan’s too. A woman. She had been their best friend. Both fell for her. Aidan was somewhat coping, but Cray wasn’t doing well at all.
“Oh hell,” she whispered, looking at him, sucked into a tunnel of certain knowledge. “You need your dragon back more than most, or you’re never gonna make it, Cray.”
Then she felt more and looked at Aidan. “And while you might be coping and doing what’s expected of you, holding onto the devotion you felt to her will only destroy any future love before it has a chance to begin.” She shook her head. “And you can’t just pretend to love your Broun as you intend to do...or can you...is that possible?” She scowled. “It better not be because that would be so unfair to whichever one of my friends you’re meant for.”
Just like that, she whipped out of the tunnel vision she’d been in. The sensation was so jolting she would have fallen over backward if Tiernan hadn’t put an arm around her shoulders and caught her.
“Aye,” Adlin said, awed, understanding even more. “A Guardian Witch indeed, watching over not just he who she is sworn to protect but those who stand by him.”
“This is just pure crazy,” she managed, taking a few hearty swigs of Tiernan’s whisky. What the hell was going on? Sure, she’d always wanted to be part of all the time travel and love, but she wasn’t so sure about the magical angle. Not anymore.
Cray went to say something, his expression sourer than ever now, but Adlin stopped him with a sharp shake of his head. “We must give her time to adjust.” His eyes shot to the other men. “Until such time, you will accept what she says graciously. Do ye ken?”
“Aye,” they replied, some with more assurance than others.
“We should tell Julie and Tiernan the last bit, Adlin.” Milly sighed. “No, actually, just I should.”
Oh, shit, there was more?
Milly looked at the others. “If you’ll excuse us?”
Whatever it was required everyone to leave? This couldn’t be good.
When Adlin looked at Milly in question, she nodded firmly. “God, yes, husband, you need to leave too. The poor girl doesn’t need Tiernan’s father here for this part.”
“Sonofabitch,” Julie muttered, then flinched, definitely tipsy. She gave Milly an apologetic look. “Sorry...you’re not a bitch...and I wasn’t talking about Tiernan.”
Milly chuckled and waved it away. “You’re allowed to curse your heart out right now, dear. This is a lot.” A grim expression settled on her face once everyone was gone. “And I fear it’s going to get a bit worse...or should I say more confusing.”
Julie and Tiernan glanced at each other in concern.
“What is it, Ma?” Tiernan asked, his arm still around Julie.
“Well, it’s a bit awkward, but someone should inform you two of one other thing about Guardian Witches.” She looked between them before her gaze focused on Julie. “More so, their virtue...or, to be specific, purity.”
“Purity?” Julie mouthed. “Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are.”
“I am,” Milly confirmed. “It’s said that Guardian Witches were only ever virgins. Worse yet, that they could never lay with he who they protected.” Sadness settled on her face. “For if they did, their magic would be no more and the man
more vulnerable to harm than ever before.”
Chapter Twelve
“BLOODY HELL,” HE cursed and frowned at his mother, his brogue thickening with his distress. “Surely, ye jest.”
“I wish I did,” she replied softly, just as upset as they were because she knew how much he loved Julie. Not to mention, she wanted grandchildren. “But that’s what they say. You’re not supposed to sleep with your protector.”
“Slow your roll,” Julie said, slurring slightly. She was in her cups, and he didn’t blame her. “For starters, as you well know, Tiernan, I’m not a virgin.” She hiccupped. “So that settles that end of things.”
“I bloody well know ye’re not a virgin,” he muttered, keeping her steady lest she teeter back again. He focused on his mother. “She makes a good point, though. If she’s not a virgin, then the rules have already changed.”
“They have,” his mother agreed, quick to optimism. “Your father and I just wanted you to have all your facts upfront.”
“Meaning you don’t think it’s such a good idea that we sleep together,” Julie said bluntly. She didn’t need to be in her cups to say precisely what was on her mind.
Which turned out to be more than he expected.
“So essentially,” Julie went on, “our coming together, if that’s what you want to call it, works the opposite of everybody else.” She scowled. “If that is, we go off the premise that any of this even applies to us.”
Ma’s brows perked in a mixture of amusement and concern as she figured out Julie's vague words quicker than him. “You could only be referring to MacLomains and Brouns growing more powerful once they lay together.”
“Actually, I was thinking about dragon mates, but yeah, sure, that.” Julie sighed and took another swig before her eyes met his. “Just when I thought there might be hope for us, we’ve got the red light again.”
He was just glad to hear there had been a green light to begin with.
“To hell with that.” He downed her whisky, which was really his, and said exactly how he felt while at the same time trying to lighten her mood. “Besides, there isnae electricity in medieval Scotland.”
“So, no red light.” The corner of her lip curled up. “Very funny.”
“True, though.” He shook his head, refusing to allow her to get too down or worse yet, to entertain the idea that this might be true. That they couldn’t lie together if she meant to protect him. He looked at his mother again. “Julie is no longer pure, yet her magic still protects me. So things are verra much different.” He tilted his head in question. “Might it be possible that our magic is combining? That lying with me would make her stronger like it would have had she been a Broun?”
“I would say your magic will let you know and ‘tis not something to fret over at the moment,” his father said, returning right on time. His gaze flickered over Julie, taking in her quickly deteriorating state before his eyes met Tiernan’s. “Meanwhile, ‘tis best, you and Julie get back to wee David.”
“Have you heard from Grant then?”
“All is well.” Adlin gave Tiernan a pointed look. “’Tis just time to get a good night’s rest, then think things over on the morn, aye?”
“Aye, Da.” He prayed his magic worked enough to get them back because Julie’s magic would undoubtedly be askew right now. He embraced his parents. “We will see you soon. Hopefully, with more news.”
“All three of you,” Adlin replied moments before Aidan returned. “’Tis best you take your cousin along. When your magic works, it tends to complement each other’s as mine and Grant’s once did.”
“Aye,” Tiernan agreed, happy to have Aidan along. “Mayhap ‘twill increase our odds of getting where we need to go too.”
Julie said nothing to that, but then her eyes were already half-mast.
“It’s going to be okay, Julie,” his mother said as she and Adlin embraced her. “I don’t doubt it for a second.” Ma looked between Tiernan and Julie. “Not when it comes to you two.” She offered a warm smile. “And mothers tend to know these things.”
Julie didn’t offer a response, but her state was indeed worsening by the moment. Not only was she not used to whisky, but he suspected her igniting magic had amplified its effects. She needed to lie down. So whether she liked it or not, he scooped her up again and off they went. Regrettably, as they soon discovered, things were most certainly growing dire. It took not just Tiernan and Aidan’s magic but a nudge from his parents as well to return to King David in thirteen thirty-one.
“Bloody hell, I dinnae like the feel of this,” Aidan muttered, lighting a fire on the hearth by hand rather than with magic. “I feel emptier by the day.”
“Aye,” Tiernan agreed, glad to see Julie had already passed out.
He laid her on the bed, covered her, then simply watched her for a lingering moment. His heart ached for her struggles. For all that had been thrown at her today. He even acknowledged his part in it. How he hadn't given her a choice. At the time, it had felt so right and still did, but that didn’t make it any easier for her.
“I might not be connecting with you too well telepathically,” Aidan said, “but I know that look on yer face.” He urged Tiernan to sit in front of the fire with him and handed him a skin of whisky. “Ye feel like ye’ve contributed to all she’s been through here.” The corner of his mouth shot up. “And ye have, Cousin.” He grasped Tiernan's shoulder and shook his head. “But ‘twas the only way it could have gone. Ye had to follow yer heart at long last.”
He appreciated the support, needing it more than he realized.
“She’s right, though,” he said softly. “’Twas poor of me to put what I wanted before kin and country. To think only of my desires and not how it might affect her.”
“Ye were thinking about how it would affect her,” Aidan replied. “Because ye know she deserves the kind of love ye feel for her. She deserves more than the lonely life she was living.” He shrugged. “As to kin and country, it seems we need her more than anyone right now, so bringing her back in time was downright heroic.”
“’Twas selfish and ye know it.”
Aidan grinned. “That too.” He shook his head. “Ye know full well ‘tis a rare day things dinnae happen as they’re supposed to for those of us with MacLomain blood.”
“No truer words were ever uttered,” came a disembodied voice before a welcome presence appeared.
“Great-Granda,” Aidan exclaimed, smiling warmly. “’Tis always a welcome thing to see ye but frustrating not to be able to embrace ye hello.”
“Aye,” Grant agreed.
Having manifested beside the fire, he smiled warmly at them both. While transparent, his visage was easy enough to see. He had appeared as a young man with his Hamilton plaid wrapped proudly, making the striking family resemblance between him and Aidan obvious.
“All is well with wee David,” Grant assured. “He sleeps soundly.”
“’Tis good, Uncle.” Tiernan nodded hello. “’Tis also bloody good to see ye.”
Grant nodded in agreement before sharing that he’d been to see Adlin, and he was all caught up. Then he shared some interesting, albeit alarming news of his own.
“Unbeknownst to them, I have visited Balliol and his nobles,” Grant divulged. “They talk about war and rightful lands but little else of consequence.” He shook his head. “As far as I can tell, they arenae connected with the warrior monks. Not to say that's cut in stone. They still might be in a way I’ve yet to ken. For I discovered unusual things along the way that leave me with more questions than answers.”
Tiernan perked a brow. “Along the way where?”
“From Stonehenge to Stonehenge, starting at the one you visited earlier.”
“And?” Aidan prompted when Grant momentarily ceased speaking. His ghostly body drifted as though caught in a draft coming off the fire before he manifested again.
“I’ve never seen ye do that before.” His cousin frowned. “Is everything all right?”
> “Aye,” Grant muttered. “’Tis just the affect all of this is having on my ethereal form. It requires more energy than usual to remain this way.” He shook his head. “The elements dinnae always help either.”
“Och, so whatever’s affecting our magic is affecting the afterlife too?”
“A wee bit here and there but ‘tis not to worry about at the moment.” Grant eyed the men. “The bigger issue is what I discovered on my travels. I was able to track the same dark energy ye sensed at the tomb to five other locations.”
“Which ones?” Tiernan asked.
“The Ring of Brodgar in the Orkneys,” Grant began. “The Stones of Machrie Moor, The Kilmartin Glen stones, and the stones at Clava Cairns.”
“That’s only four,” Tiernan murmured, sensing he wasn’t going to like the next Stonehenge in the least.
“Salem,” Julie suddenly gasped. She bolted up from a sound sleep. Her eyes shot to Grant. “The darkness is at the Salem Stonehenge too. It’s at Mystery Hill in the twenty-first century.”
Chapter Thirteen
“SALEM,” SHE MURMURED on a yawn. She rolled over, cuddled against warmth, and inhaled the scent of spicy perfection, whispering, “Tiernan,” because it reminded her of him.
“Aye, lass,” he rumbled.
Her eyes flew open before she shut them to blinding light. What the heck? She wasn’t in the twenty-first century but...where the hell was she?
“Are we traveling through time again?” she rasped, parched. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. “So blasted bright.”
“Nay, we’re not traveling through time.” He chuckled. “’Tis raining out and verra dim.”
“Really?” She cracked open an eye, only to realize she was snuggled up against him. That’s when it all came rushing back. Guardian Witches, evil monk warriors, and oh yeah, no sex allowed for the virgin she wasn’t.
Even worse? It all boiled down to one hell of a hangover.
“Fuck,” she whispered and pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “What the hell was I drinking?”
A Scot's Pledge (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #1) Page 8
