by Donna Grant
Her legs were long and lean on her trim frame, but she had feminine curves that would make a saint’s mouth water with temptation.
As delightful as her body and face were, that’s not all that drew him. Besides her magic, Aisley had a quick wit and an even quicker mind.
She fascinated him at every turn. She held him riveted, intrigued.
Beguiled.
One black brow rose. “You’re not taking me anywhere.”
If she only knew he’d be happy to take her right then and there. Would the knowledge make her blush? Would her skin flush with desire? He was dying to know.
“If you’re going to kill me, do it now.”
“Kill you?” Phelan took a step back, completely dumbfounded at her words. He had never given her any such notions. Why would she think that? Unless … she knew what he was. “Why do you think I’d want to kill you?”
Doubt flashed fleetingly in her fawn-colored depths. “Isn’t that why you’re following me?”
“If I wanted to kill you, beauty, I’d have done it that night in the club when I kissed you. Or the second time when I watched you dance.”
A small frown furrowed her brow. “What do you want?”
“This,” he said and closed the gap separating them.
He covered her mouth with his. Phelan couldn’t stop the moan when she responded to his kiss. She opened her lips against his, and he quickly swept his tongue inside to mate with hers.
The kiss was supposed to have been soft and gentle, but the desire for her burned too brightly inside him. He wrapped his arms around her and attempted to deepen the kiss.
The same instant she ducked out of his arms. Phelan opened his eyes to find himself staring at his reflection in the glass before him. He turned his head to the side to look at Aisley.
He had never had to work so hard for a woman before. What did she want from him? And more importantly, why was he having such a difficult time figuring it out?
“Why do you keep running from me? I know you like my kisses, beauty, because you kiss me back.”
Aisley rolled her eyes. “If you’re really not here to kill me, then let me go.”
Phelan turned to face her. He had a tough choice. If he wanted to earn her trust, he had to let her go. But how could he when she was within reach of him now?
With his speed, there was no way she could outrun him. He could have her in a hotel room in a matter of minutes. Then have her undressed and in his bed even quicker.
But he’d been kept against his will for decades. He wasn’t about to do that to someone else, especially not Aisley.
“I’m no’ your enemy,” he told her.
“Prove it. Let me go.”
“I’ll follow you.”
She shrugged.
Phelan blew out a breath and moved aside so she had a clear path to her car. “I’ll earn your trust, beauty,” he said as she walked past him.
“Doubtful,” she replied with a snort.
Phelan waited until she was in her car and drove off before he grabbed his helmet and hurried to his bike to follow her.
CHAPTER
FOUR
MacLeod Castle
“How much longer?” Arran asked the room at large.
Lucan glanced at his elder brother, Fallon, to find him staring into the cold, empty hearth in the great hall. “Aiden and Britt will tell us when it’s done.”
“It” was the serum Britt had synthesized from their blood. Lucan wasn’t the only one uneasy about bringing a mortal with no magic into their battle, but Britt wasn’t just an amazing doctor. She had managed to gain Aiden’s love.
As uncle to Aiden, Lucan couldn’t be happier. He knew his nephew had been floundering about in their world of magic. Not that he blamed Quinn and Marcail for protecting their son. Lucan would do the same thing if he and Cara dared to have children.
Children. He let out a long sigh and shifted his gaze to his wife. Cara sat with some of the other Druids. Her chestnut curls were pulled away from her face in a ponytail. She smiled at something Danielle said, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
That’s when Lucan saw Cara glance up the stairs. She was as worried as the others. Most of last night they had sat in bed talking about Britt’s serum and how it could help the Warriors in their upcoming battle.
“What has you frowning?” Quinn asked as he came to stand beside him.
Lucan shrugged before he turned to his younger brother. “I lied to Cara last night.”
Quinn’s dark brows rose high in his forehead, surprise in his pale green eyes. “That’s a first. What was the lie?”
“She asked if the fighting would be over when we kill Wallace. I told her it would.”
Quinn crossed his arms over his chest, his small grin vanishing instantly. “I told Marcail that same lie several nights ago.”
“Were we wrong to bring them into this, Quinn?”
“Most assuredly. I’m a selfish bastard though, and couldna let Marcail out of my life. She would’ve been better had she never met me.”
“Ah, but would you have been better?”
Quinn had been on the verge of self-destruction. It had only been Marcail’s gentle touch and love that gave Quinn a reason to keep living.
“Nay,” Quinn answered without hesitation. “I look at all the Warriors in the castle and the women who stand with them, and I know each Warrior is better because of their women.”
“You’ve the right of it, brother. Can we honestly say the same for the Druids?”
Quinn was silent a long time before he shook his head. “Nay.”
Lucan tried to imagine life without Cara by his side the last four centuries. He had barely held it together for three hundred years before her, and only because he had to keep himself and his brothers united.
He tugged at the end of one long braid running from his temple. Cara was the only light in the darkness that was his life. The constant battles with droughs had taken a toll on him.
Cara was his reason to live through each battle. Without her … there would be nothing.
But, like Quinn, he’d been selfish. Even discovering Cara was a Druid and being hunted by Deirdre shouldn’t have been enough to tie her to him.
It had been sheer luck that they found Isla. Thanks to her potent magic there was the shield covering MacLeod Castle that didn’t just kept it hidden from the world, but prevented mortals inside it from aging.
Every time Cara left the castle she put her life in jeopardy. But it took all of them—Warriors and Druids alike—to battle the droughs.
“I hear everyone struck down by Wallace’s magic in Edinburgh is healing,” Lucan said.
Quinn said, “Aye. We’re all glad of that. Marcail was ready to go to Edinburgh with Sonya and try to heal them.”
Wallace. Why was it everything they spoke about at the castle was the bastard? He controlled their lives as well as ruined them.
“Will Aiden and Britt remain here once her work is complete?” Lucan asked to change the subject.
Quinn’s lips quirked downward at the corners. “I wanted to ask, but Marcail begged me no’ to. She’s afraid of what the answer will be.”
“Britt will be a target when she leaves.”
“Which is why Aiden will go with her.”
“So you think they’ll go?”
“I doona know,” he said after he blew out a breath. “I’d feel better if they remained, but Britt had a life before we entered it.”
Lucan gave a nod to Fallon as he joined them. “Aiden explained to Britt what she was getting into. She chose this.”
“Did she?” Quinn asked angrily. “Aiden could’ve gone to someone else. Perhaps we shouldna have allowed him on this course.”
Fallon grinned at Quinn. “Ah, but he is his father’s son. I’ve never met such a stubborn man as you.”
Quinn reached over and hit Fallon in the shoulder, the first real smile in days. “Stubborn? Shall we talk about you?”
Lu
can watched the exchange, chuckling as he did. There had been a time when he never thought his brothers would be able to talk to each other again. Look at them now.
Their women had done that.
“What are you smirking about?” Fallon asked. “You’re just as stubborn, Lucan. It’s a MacLeod trait.”
Lucan grunted. “Oh, I know I’m obstinate. I’m the only one who dares to admit it though.”
After the laughter died, so did the smiles.
Fallon put his back to the great hall and the Warriors and Druids scattered throughout to face his brothers. “Any word from Phelan or Malcolm regarding Wallace?”
“Charon called and said Phelan had yet to find anything,” Quinn answered.
Lucan threw up his hands. “The only one who is able to get ahold of Malcolm is Larena. Ask your wife about him.”
“I did,” Fallon ground out in a low voice. “She said she’s left him a half-dozen messages, but he’s yet to return her calls.”
“We willna hear from him until he finds Wallace,” Quinn pointed out.
Lucan nodded. “True. I’m no’ happy with just the two of them looking.”
“None of us are,” Fallon said.
Quinn ran a hand down his face, showing his frustration. “What do you expect when you tell the women they can no’ go looking for him?”
“Me?” Fallon said in surprise. “I seem to recall you ordering Marcail to her chamber. Right before she told you what for.”
Lucan grinned as Quinn looked away sheepishly. “We all made that decision.”
“Aye,” Quinn said.
Fallon gave a shake of his head. “We didna imagine they would in turn tell us we couldna go.”
“We could sneak out during the night,” Lucan said.
The three brothers exchanged looks as plans began to form.
“Do you think we could get away with it?” Quinn asked.
Fallon said, “Nay, but my being able to teleport us in and out will help.”
“There’ll be hell to pay when we return,” Lucan added.
Quinn glanced around the hall. “It has to be just us three.”
“As I said, hell to pay.”
Fallon absently scratched his chin. “Quinn’s right. Just us three. We’ll be gone and back before they know it. We can do small searches in places Malcolm and Phelan have no’ gone.”
“We go tonight,” Quinn said.
Lucan leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Half past midnight. Meet on the north tower.”
“This could be for nothing,” Fallon cautioned. “Wallace may well truly be dead.”
“I want to see his body,” Quinn stated.
Lucan glanced at Cara again. “I concur. I need to see his body to believe he’s gone from our lives for good. Only then will I be able to breathe.”
“It’s been two months and nothing. If Wallace was alive, he’d have made himself known by now,” Fallon said.
“There was a time we thought Deirdre was dead as well,” Lucan said. “That didna turn out so well for us since she was able to use her magic to regenerate her body.”
Quinn rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Doona remind me. Wallace was smart. Smarter than Deirdre or Declan. He might’ve been a little too cocky, but he’ll have made plans for his untimely demise.”
“Ah, but he wasna counting on having to battle the selmyr,” Fallon said, his eyes flashing satisfaction at the memory.
Lucan growled as he thought of the selmyr—ancient monsters who thrived off of consuming magical beings. Druids and Warriors being their choice of meals.
“We’ve made some powerful friends,” Fallon continued. “Without the aid of the Dragon Kings, there’s no way we could’ve fought both the selmyr and Wallace.”
Quinn shifted from one foot to the other as Marcail rose from the table and walked up the stairs. “All of that was thanks to Charon. For some reason the Dragon Kings favor him.”
“Irks you, does it?” Lucan teased.
Quinn rolled his eyes. “I almost killed Charon while we were in Deirdre’s Pit. Now I’m glad I listened to Marcail and stayed my hand.”
“Charon has proven a valuable Warrior long before his connection to the Dragon Kings,” Lucan pointed out.
Fallon was quick to toss in his agreement. “That he has. No’ once has he let us down.”
“Should we tell him our plan about our upcoming search?” Quinn asked quietly.
Lucan frowned. “Nay. We tell no one.”
“Agreed,” Fallon said.
The three ended their talk of searching for Wallace as Aiden came to the top of the stairs. He looked in need of a shave and a good meal, but the smile on his face said everything.
“Britt is close,” Aiden said. “Verra close. It’s still going to take a couple of days before the serum will be ready to test.”
After a round of clapping and shouts of joy, Aiden disappeared from view.
“This is good news,” Quinn said.
Fallon’s gaze was riveted on his wife, Larena. She was the only female Warrior, and she had come close to dying when drough blood had been put into her wounds.
Just one drop of drough blood could kill a Warrior. And somehow Wallace had managed to make the drough blood work more powerfully than before in bringing down a Warrior. Of course, the X90 bullets that were filled with drough blood didn’t help.
In the past, introducing a Warrior’s blood to counteract the drough blood was the way to save one of their own. Charon’s recent injury hadn’t been able to be reversed as before. They’d nearly lost him.
Lucan prayed Britt’s serum worked. It was just a matter of time before one of them fell to drough blood.
“Tonight,” Quinn whispered, as if reading his thoughts.
Lucan and Fallon nodded.
Tonight they would begin their hunt. The other Warriors, Druids, and their wives would be angry, but it was worth their fury to find Wallace.
At least they would know something. If he was dead, they could concentrate on finding the spell that would bind their gods for good and allow them to live normal lives.
If Wallace was alive … it meant another battle.
Lucan stayed where he was as Quinn and Fallon walked away. Lucan looked over the great hall at the men and women who had become his family. They might not be related by blood, but they were family just the same.
They had lost one already. Duncan.
Lucan’s heart was heavy every time he thought of the Warrior. And he couldn’t look at Ian without thinking of Duncan since they had been twins.
Their immortality gave them an advantage, but as it had been proven, they could be killed. Lucan didn’t want to lose anyone else in his family.
They’d come close recently with Charon and Larena. How many more times would luck favor them?
He feared their luck had run out.
CHAPTER
FIVE
It was just after one when Aisley pulled off the road to eat. The croissant and coffee she had hastily downed at the café had been hours ago.
The lack of food, stress of meeting up with Phelan again, and the worry that Jason could be right around the corner had given her the queen of migraines.
Aisley opened the door and blinked against the blinding light of the sun. She slipped her sunglasses back on and hurried to the small restaurant.
With a nod to the man behind the counter, Aisley walked up to the bar and ordered some fish and chips and a soft drink before sitting down at a table in the far back corner.
Her hands shook when she dug into her purse for her migraine medicine after they brought her drink. At any moment, she expected her head to explode from the pain. She popped the pill into her mouth and took a drink to wash it down.
No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t get Phelan out of her mind. He confused her, rattled her, but he excited her as well.
She didn’t like that most of all. He was the enemy. She shouldn’t want his touch. Or more o
f his kisses.
She closed her eyes and instantly an image of Phelan filled her mind. Rich, dark hair hung past his shoulders thick and straight. His face was hard lines and angles with a jaw that looked as if it had been carved from granite.
Despite the hardness of his face, his wide lips could tilt in a devastating smile that sent her emotions spinning. But when his blue-gray eyes locked with hers, it was as if the world faded to nothing.
She saw only him, felt only him.
Knew only him.
His tall body with his impossibly hard muscles felt so good against hers. The memory of their fleeting kiss, his heat, and the way she wanted to wrap her arms and legs around him and hang on for dear life revisited her every time she closed her eyes.
Even knowing he was most likely there to kill her, she couldn’t resist him or the attraction. He was temptation and danger rolled into one delicious package.
She couldn’t look at his lips without thinking of their kisses, of how she craved more. He was impossible to resist. The fact she didn’t want to resist him is what caused all the problems.
He couldn’t have been more tempting if he were laid out naked on her bed and covered in chocolate. His allure, his seductive eyes, and his damned charm were slowly getting the better of her.
How she wished she could give in to his tantalizing body and inviting arms. His blatant masculine sexuality enticed, tempted, and completely shattered any walls she tried to put up to keep him out.
The food arrived quickly, and she wasted little time in eating. The migraine had begun to let up a tad when she finished.
Aisley leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, her sunglasses still on. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t use magic to stop the migraines. Jason had told her numerous times it was because she was weak.
She didn’t know why her magic didn’t work that way, only that it didn’t. But she couldn’t heal herself of anything, even a small cut.
Maybe it was the evil inside her that prevented such things. A Druid with healing magic was rare, and it took pure magic. Pure had never been something Aisley was.
“Certainly not now,” she murmured to herself.
As much as she wanted to stay and relax, she had to get back on the road. It wasn’t a good idea to stay in one place too long when she was being chased.