A Druid of Her Own: An Immortal Highlander (Druid Series Book 4)

by Mandy M. Roth

  Kennard would look for the man later and warn him against ever doing so again. Then again, she would not remain here. She would leave this town with him. This was no place for her.

  They were far enough from town that walking would have been out of the question. As he realized that was probably exactly what Maggie did daily, he felt his wolf’s hackles rising. His mate needed him in more ways than one. She was barely getting by and she had a dark mage nipping at her heels.

  Kennard had money. He’d been alive long enough and learned to invest wisely, making sure he’d be comfortable. More than comfortable even. He wasn’t a man who wanted for much for himself, but seeing his woman’s teeth chattering because she’d taken a shower in water as cold as something that came from an outside hose did not sit well with him. He wanted to shower her in gifts, buy her a grand home of her choosing and assure she wanted for nothing again.

  Nothing other than him, that was.

  “I should go in and talk with her, aye?” he asked, already knowing the answer. He and Maggie had much to discuss. For starters, he needed to try to find out what Athol wanted her for. She had to know even if she didn’t realize she did. The truth was there, they just needed to uncover it.

  The same sinking feeling he’d been trying to escape, the one that told him she had ties to the dark mages, returned this time tenfold. He couldn’t walk back into her home like this—on the verge of shifting when shifting should have been an impossibility.

  He looked to Cillian, knowing he could trust his cousin with his chosen one. “I need to clear my head.”

  Cillian stood tall. “I’ll watch over her. Go. Liam will accompany you to assure you do nae get into any mischief.”

  “But mischief is so much fun,” countered Liam with a grin that said he was only joking. He strolled over to his motorcycle and threw a leg over it, taking a seat. “We can ride and the fresh air will help.”

  Kennard wasn’t so sure, but he knew he wasn’t in control enough to go back in and see Maggie. He’d end up pinning her to the floor in front of everyone and taking what he wanted. While he was alpha, he wasn’t a dirtbag. He’d never take a woman’s choices away.

  Ever.

  Chapter 9

  Maggie sat on the sofa, her head between her knees as if she were trying to stop a bloody nose, not trying to absorb just how much had been dumped on her in one day and one very long night.

  “Thinking of how the nest of vampires we found on the other side of town a few months back was the most interesting thing to happen to us in a long time?” asked Maria, always good at reading Maggie’s emotions.

  With a snort, Maggie inclined her head. “Sad but true. Or the house out on Route six.”

  “Oh,” Maria bounced a bit in place, “the one with the ghosts. Yeah, that was neat too. Sad state of things if we’re sitting here waxing nostalgic about vampires and ghosts.”

  “None of them walked in and kissed me,” confessed Maggie, making Maria laugh. “How long until sunrise?” she asked, lifting her head and taking the newly warmed mug of tea from her friend.

  Maria took a seat next to her. “A few hours yet.”

  “Crazy night, huh?”

  Maria touched the mug, silently encouraging her to drink. She did and made a face as she realized just how much sugar Maria had put in the tea. Coughing, she patted her chest with her free hand.

  Laughing, Maria touch the mug again. The way she continued to encourage it made her come off as pusher-like. “Drink more. You need it right now.”

  Curling her lip, Maggie shook her head. It was like drinking maple syrup. “Did you use the entire sugar bowl?”

  “Nope,” replied Maria with a flash of teeth. “Just a third.”

  Maggie laughed. “Tasted like it.”

  “So this day has been eventful, huh?” Maria twisted, putting her shoulder against Maggie and throwing her feet off the other end of the old sofa. She folded her hands on her lap and then glanced back up at Maggie. “You really had his dick in your hand?”

  Pink rushed up and over Maggie’s upper chest, neck and cheeks. “Yes.”

  “How is it?”

  Maggie stifled a laugh. “Maria!”

  With a shrug, her friend snorted. “What? Legit question. Is it romance-hero worthy? And you told me all about when you and that one guy got busy. Come to think of it, that is the only guy you’ve ever mentioned. I’m thinking your bed-partner history is limited. At least tell me Kennard is a handful.”

  “And then some,” confessed Maggie softly, feeling naughty for sharing about Kennard. It was too hard to resist adding more. “If he screws as good as he kisses, I may not survive him.”

  “You’ll do just fine,” said Maria, as if sensing Maggie’s concern about not being good enough in bed for Kennard. Maria was right, Maggie’s list of bed partners was limited to one and he hadn’t been anything special. She’d given her virginity to him, and in the end the entire thing had been a dare on the part of his friends. A way for them to tease and razz him about banging Mad Maggie.

  The hurt was as fresh today as when she’d suffered through it the summer after her senior year of high school. She’d kept busy since then, saving all the money she could to open her own coffee shop. She’d done it. She was self-employed and loved it.

  Maria’s laughter faded and she sat up, her hand going to Maggie’s thigh. “This demon in your dream means business, Maggie. My aunts did read your cards and consulted their board. Bad shit is trying to move in on you, and before you jump to the same conclusion I did, the bad shit is not Kennard. Apparently, he’s what you need.”

  Her friend didn’t sound thrilled by that. Maggie fell silent and forced the sickly sweet hot liquid down her throat. After a few minutes she began to feel better and the shaking subsided. Warmth spread over her and she stopped thinking her trailer had become a frozen tundra and realized just how humid it was out.

  “What now?” she asked.

  Maria took Maggie’s hand in hers. “We kick the bad guy’s butt, like we always do, only this time we have hunky males as our accessory pieces.”

  Unable to help herself, Maggie burst into another fit of the giggles. Trust Maria to take their situation and boil it down to something as simple as that. She leaned, putting her head against Maria’s as she continued to hold her friend’s hand. Everything was changing. Maggie just hoped it was for the better.

  “They’ve been out there a long time,” she said uneasily.

  Maria nodded. “One of the twins is standing outside the front door, trying his best to give us privacy, but his hearing is probably better than mine. Kennard and the annoying twin left on their motorcycles.”

  Maggie sat up quickly. He’d left her?

  Maria touched her back gently. “Hon, he needed to clear his head and collect himself. He didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “He’d never hurt me,” she said, sure she was right.

  “He believes that forcing you into a claimed mating would hurt you,” Maria replied.

  Maggie wasn’t totally up on her supernatural mating knowledge, but she did understand that when a supernatural took a mate, they did so for life and nearly all of them were immortal. He probably needed time to think about how he’d be stuck with her forever.

  She was about to excuse herself to go get dressed in something more than old clothes she used as pajamas when she felt it—the same buzzing energy that always accompanied the nightmares with Athol in them.

  Maria didn’t seem to notice anything at first and Maggie wondered if it was her mind playing tricks on her. If perhaps stress had finally broken her. She stood slowly, and the moment she was to her feet, the door burst open. Cillian was there and he had a huge sword in his hand.

  Maria thrust Maggie behind her and snarled.

  Cillian ignored the warning snarls and stared past both women. “I sense dark mage magik. It smells like Athol’s.”

  Maggie tensed. “I sense him too.”

  Maria was quiet a moment b
efore she nodded. “Me three.”

  There was a huge crashing sound and the entire trailer rocked back and forth before jerking to one side. The sofa and the end table flew at Maggie and Maria, hitting them both and knocking them to the floor, which only moments before had been the wall.

  The world seemed to spin as pressure built in her ears, as if she were changing altitudes on a plane ride. The trailer rocked again and flipped once more. They all fell onto what had once been the ceiling as the sounds of metal folding in echoed around them.

  Maria was pinned under the sofa and Maggie grabbed for her, yanking to no avail. Cillian was suddenly there. He thrust his sword at Maggie and she took it as he lifted the sofa and tossed it aside as if it were as heavy as a beach ball. He bent and lifted Maria to her feet and then touched her shoulders.

  “How badly are you hurt?” he asked.

  “I’m pissed. Not hurt,” she returned. “Was this that Athol guy’s doing?”

  He nodded.

  The trailer shook again and Cillian lunged for the front door as it began to crinkle in. He kicked it outwards before putting his hand out to Maria. She took it and Cillian yanked her free of the trailer. He turned to reach for Maggie but the trailer spun in a different direction. The strangest urge to glance out the window to see if a witch on a broomstick was flying by came over Maggie and she almost laughed.

  She really needed to learn to control when she did that.

  Maggie took a tea mug to the side of the head and cursed under her breath as she attempted to get her bearings when the trailer stopped spinning. Glancing around, she realized Cillian wasn’t with her anymore. Was he trapped under something?

  “Cillian?” she called, scrambling to her hands and knees. The pain in the side of her head grew but was soon beat out by that in her knees and palms of her hands as she crawled over broken glass. Buzzing, hot energy that smelled a good deal like rotting corpses eased up and around her, coating her in it to the point she coughed, gagging on it.

  Her lungs burned with the acidic smell and she crawled faster to the spot where she’d last seen Cillian. In the back of her mind she knew her home was no more and that everything she had was lost, but none of it mattered. They were material possessions. Nothing more.

  Lives mattered.

  Stuff didn’t.

  It took her a second to realize someone was calling her name. It sounded far away and muffled at first. The ringing in her ears eased and she recognized Maria’s voice.

  “Maggie!”

  “Here!” Maggie shouted in response, climbing up and over what had once been her living room light fixture. She went over the toppled sofa and neared the door. Light appeared there and she smiled. It faded fast as she realized the light wasn’t Maria and Cillian.

  Athol reached through the opening that had once been her front door, snatched hold of her, and then yanked with a force she couldn’t resist. One second Maggie was on her hands and knees and the next she was tumbling through nothingness.

  She knew two things—if she dared allow herself to keep going with Athol, she’d never return, and two, Kennard would come for her.

  “Kennard!” she managed, as something slammed into her, knocking the wind from her.

  Chapter 10

  Kennard pulled his bike to a stop, the wolf inside him thrusting upwards. He almost lost control and fell off his ride, but he somehow managed to stay upright. Liam did the same thing and touched his chest at the same minute pain lanced Kennard’s.

  “Kennard!” Maggie’s voice rode the air as if carried by nothing more than will. It demanded his full attention and his immediate action. She needed him.

  His nostrils flared. “My mate is in trouble.”

  Liam nodded. “As is my brother.”

  Kennard learned long ago to never question the twin bond his cousins had. They were headed back to Maggie’s in no time flat. He peeled into the gravel drive and fishtailed to a stop. He barely took enough time to assure his bike remained standing before running in the direction he had known Maggie’s home to be, but it wasn’t there. The foundation for a trailer was, but the trailer itself was missing. There was bent metal and trash scattered about.

  Not trash, he thought, as he ran forward. What was on the ground was the contents of Maggie’s home as if someone had shook them all out.

  “Kennard!” shouted Liam. Kennard’s heart was pounding so loudly and his adrenaline was so high that he could barely make out his cousin’s words as he turned, his eyes already adjusted to the darkness around them. Liam was there, cradling Maria to his chest, his eyes wide. He lifted one hand and pointed in the other direction.

  It took a fraction of a second for Kennard to register what he was seeing. Off, into the woods near Maggie’s home, was the remnants of the trailer. Bewilderment settled over him as he ran full force at it, trying to zero his hearing in on the home to hear other heartbeats. Something was clouding his senses, confusing them even.

  Dark magik.

  “Maggie! Cillian!”

  He leapt up, bounding over downed trees and landing on the bottom of the trailer, which was the top now with the way it had landed. There had been no storm. No noise that he’d heard to explain what he was seeing. The magik used to do this was old, powerful and evil, and still lingered. It grabbed at his feet, trying to take hold of him—to consume him. The evil sang the sweetest of songs to his dark side, luring it ever so perfectly, drawing him in, wanting him to join it. He wanted to. He wanted to submit and give in to what he’d spent so many centuries trying to fight. It would be easier. He could do as he pleased then.

  His wolf surged forward, pushing past the rune that kept it caged. His fingers lengthened as claws emerged from the tips and fur sprouted up on his hands and arms. He felt his mouth burning with a partial change as well. The wolf didn’t care what the dark power wanted—it wanted its mate.

  Maggie.

  Kennard gasped, trying to fight away the urge to give in to the evil. He knew one thing with absolute certainty—if he submitted to the lure, his mate would die.

  “No!” he roared, slashing at darkness, fighting through it. When the evil cleared around him he saw a mass of darkness near the other end of the trailer. He didn’t need to be told who was within the cloaked darkness.

  Athol.

  Liam was suddenly next to him, his sword in hand. Kennard tried to materialize his own sword but the evil still had enough of a grip on him that he wasn’t himself, and in partially shifted form, his magik never responded correctly.

  “What the bloody hell is that?” asked Liam as he took a fighting stance. He glanced at Kennard and did a double take. “Och, we’ve nae time for you to be losin’ control in such a manner. Get it together, cousin, yer woman’s life depends on it.”

  Kennard struggled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Maggie’s scent struck him then, calming him, allowing him to gain control once more. The wolf stepped aside willingly, trusting the man to do what needed done. Kennard knew the wolf was close enough to help should it be required. He put out his hand, the fur and claws gone. With a fast draw on his natural power, he summoned forth his sword. It appeared in his hand and he gripped the hilt, his gaze narrowing on the black mass before him.

  He charged forward, his intent to run it through. Something deep within clicked and screamed at him to halt. He did and Liam slammed into his back, making him topple over. The mass swept at them and Kennard kicked Liam’s legs out from under him, also stopping his cousin from being able to run the mass through.

  “What the hell?” demanded Liam, pushing to his feet as Kennard stood as well, their footing shaky on the overturned trailer.

  The mass was behind them now and they turned and watched in horror as Cillian was spit forth from it. He landed, unmoving, on the edge of the trailer. His eyes were closed and there were no signs of life in him.

  “Bràthair?” Liam whispered, his voice barely there.

  The mass jerked around and then a streak of red fell
from it. Kennard couldn’t move as he watched Maggie’s tiny form hit the trailer and roll to a stop next to Cillian. Rage consumed him and he dropped his sword, calling to his wolf, letting it know it was free to do what may to Athol—consequences be damned. His clothing magikally slid away as the wolf took hold, Kennard’s body shifting fully. He charged forward, letting the wolf lead the way. He dove into the mass of darkness and snapped his jaws, trying to clamp down on something, anything, but there was nothing.

  A trap.

  Before he could try to gain control again, he was pummeled around within the mass. He tried to curl his body, his tail tucking as he went, but it didn’t help. Pain radiated through him.

  Chapter 11

  Maggie blinked awake, her head throbbing, her body feeling as if she’d just been through the spin cycle in the washing machine. It took her a second to gather her wits and remember what had happened.

  Cillian.

  He’d tackled her, holding her protectively then as Athol had seized hold of her, taking Cillian with him. She twisted and found Cillian next to her, not moving. Liam was there too, reaching out to touch his brother, tears in his eyes.

  Cillian coughed and lifted his head. “Son of a bitch, that hurt!”

  “Yer nae dead!” shouted Liam.

  Tipping his head, Cillian glanced at his twin. “Clearly.”

  Liam grabbed Cillian with one arm, giving him a manly hug before releasing him and looking to Maggie. “How hurt are you?”

  She stood slowly, reaching and pulling Cillian to his feet as well. They swayed and Liam steadied them both, though it was easier said than done when Maggie realized whatever they were standing on was not stable. When she realized they were on her trailer, or what was left of it, she gasped.

  “Maria?” she asked, remembering how Cillian had thrust her out of the trailer before everything went totally crazy.