Midnight's Promise_Dark Warriors

by Donna Grant

  “That’s shite,” Hal said from the doorway. “Everything can be killed. It’s just finding a way to do it.”

  Phelan nodded as he saw one of Malcolm’s smaller cuts begin to slowly knit together. “We’ll kill Wallace. Doona worry about that.”

  Rhys walked into the connecting bathroom and grabbed some towels. “Guy will arrive with Evie soon. She can no’ see Malcolm like this.”

  “Damn,” Hal said and hurried to help.

  Phelan caught Con’s gaze. “What the hell happened?”

  “I’m no’ sure I should be telling you.”

  “That’s no’ what I asked.” Phelan fisted his hand. He was ready to punch Con, regardless of who he was.

  Con removed his hand from Malcolm. “That’s all we can do for him now. He’s healing, but slowly.”

  “Constantine.”

  Black eyes met Phelan’s, and he saw determination and a shadow of regret. “Malcolm found a Druid but didna want to tell any of you. Her brother was kidnapped, and he helped her try and get him back.”

  “It was Wallace who took the Druid’s brother?”

  Rhys came to stand beside Con and looked down at Malcolm. “He knew it was. It’s why he called Guy for help. Guy asked me and Hal to tag along in case there was trouble.”

  “I see none of you are injured. Did you no’ join in the fight?” Phelan asked. Though he knew the answer. The Kings were good allies, but Con wanted them kept secret and out of any skirmishes.

  It was Hal who said, “Rhys was to take Brian and Guy was in charge of Evie once the exchange happened. We vowed to get them and the innocent tourists out no matter what.”

  “Malcolm knew it was Wallace from the beginning,” Rhys said as he wiped up more blood. “Then Wallace tricked Evie by not bringing her brother, and all hell broke loose. We did as promised and got everyone out.”

  “It was during all of that when the fight between Malcolm and Wallace began.” Hal rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze on the floor.

  Rhys moved the wet towel from one hand to another. “Guy got Evie to hide Malcolm and Wallace from view so no one would see anything.”

  “As soon as Evie was gone, Rhys and I went to help Malcolm.”

  “But it was too late. Wallace disappeared, and I had to dive into the loch for Malcolm,” Rhys finished and cleared his throat.

  Phelan pulled the chair from the corner closer to the bed and sank into it. He was taking it all in, more troubled than ever that Malcolm hadn’t called him. More than that was Malcolm pitting himself against Wallace. “Malcolm knew he wouldna survive fighting Wallace alone.”

  “He did indeed.”

  Phelan turned his head to find Guy standing in the doorway with a petite brunette by his side wearing a shell-shocked expression in her blue eyes.

  “Malcolm,” she whispered in a shaky voice and walked to the bed.

  Con and Rhys immediately got out of the way to give her room. Her hand shook as she reached out to smooth a lock of Malcolm’s blond hair from his forehead.

  Phelan then understood why Malcolm had kept the Druid secret as he felt her curious magic that had an unmistakable feel of drough mixed in.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Evie couldn’t look away from the blood that coated Malcolm. Some of it darkened as it dried on his flesh, but more of it was bright red as his wounds continued to bleed.

  “Why isn’t he healed?” she asked the room at large. “He’s immortal.”

  “Normally he would be all but healed by now,” replied the man who watched her with blue-gray eyes as he sat next to the bed opposite her.

  Guy came to stand beside her. “Wallace wanted him to suffer.”

  Evie blinked and turned her head to Guy. “Jason used drough blood, didn’t he?”

  Guy looked away, but it was the man in the chair who answered, “Aye.”

  “Are you Malcolm’s friend?” she asked.

  “I am. The name is Phelan.”

  She fisted her hand before she touched Malcolm’s arm. The need to feel him was strong, but she feared hurting him. “Thank you, everyone, for helping him. I didn’t know … he didn’t tell me that he…”

  Evie couldn’t finish the sentence. Now she understood Malcolm’s urgency when they’d made love the last time. He’d been saying good-bye with his body and touch rather than words.

  Her gaze went to his scarred shoulder that was torn to bits. She gagged and covered her mouth with her hand. “What kind of monster is Wallace to do this?”

  “The worst kind,” Rhys said from behind her.

  Malcolm’s handsome face was destroyed, his chest shredded with so many cuts she couldn’t begin to count them. “Will he recover?” She lifted her gaze to look at the five men around her. “He has to be all right.”

  “He’s mending,” said the tall, golden-haired man with the black eyes. “It’s slow, but he’s fighting the effects of the drough blood, with our help and a serum he took before. He should pull through. I’m Constantine, by the way. Welcome to Dreagan. Guy, Rhys, and Hal will see to anything you need while you’re with us.”

  Her mobile chimed then with a message. She pulled it out of her purse and read the message. Her stomach dropped to her feet when she saw it was from the kidnapper—or Jason Wallace as she now knew.

  “Evie?” Guy asked, concern lacing his voice.

  She handed him her mobile and reached for the headboard to keep herself upright. “It’s Jason. He’s offered me Brian’s return if I go to him now.”

  Phelan stood and grabbed her mobile from Guy before she finished talking. After reading the message, he handed the phone to Hal. “We wait for Malcolm to wake before any decisions are made.”

  Evie bristled at his tone. It was obvious he blamed her for what happened by the anger in his voice. She lifted her chin, but didn’t bother to argue.

  The only person she would talk to about this was Malcolm. Or maybe Guy, but certainly not Phelan. It was her brother’s life on the line.

  “I never wanted Malcolm to get hurt,” she told Phelan.

  Phelan cut his gaze to her. “Then you should’ve never involved him. He’s a good man. Of course he was going to help you. You knew he would.”

  Had she? Evie looked back down at Malcolm. Had she brought him to the brink of death?

  “Sit,” Guy urged while putting pressure on her shoulders.

  Evie sank into the chair and put her hand on Malcolm’s thigh, one of the only spots not covered in blood.

  * * *

  Phelan reluctantly followed Con and the others into the hall. He watched Evie closely as she sat beside Malcolm.

  “You doona trust her,” Constantine stated.

  Phelan shrugged and found Guy staring at him. “Nay, I doona. She’s drough.”

  “Wallace didna give her a choice,” Guy said. “She did it knowing she would lose her soul, but to save innocents and her brother.”

  Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. “Malcolm told us all about it. Malcolm tried to stop her, but didna get there in time. Evie has a spell Wallace wants, and she was trying to keep it from him and get her brother back.”

  “He didna call me because she turned drough.” Phelan sighed loudly. “I’d been through all of that with Aisley. He should’ve contacted me.”

  Hal raised a black brow. “Did you let the others know about Aisley? Nay. You kept her existence a secret until you had no choice. Malcolm was making the same decision.”

  “I was protecting Aisley,” Phelan ground out in a low voice.

  Guy’s forehead furrowed. “And what do you think Malcolm was doing with Evie?”

  Phelan didn’t want to hear this. It would be easier to hate Evie and place the blame squarely on her shoulders. But the Kings were right. Malcolm had been protecting her, which meant he cared. How deeply, was the question.

  “Point taken,” Phelan grumbled.

  Guy leaned a shoulder against the door frame. “Malcolm asked that we protect Evie
in his absence.”

  Phelan wanted to argue the point. It was the Warriors, after all, who gave sanctuary to all Druids. Malcolm had sought aid elsewhere, and as much as it irked Phelan, he would go with Malcolm’s wishes. “I think we should call Fallon and have him bring more of it for Malcolm.”

  Banan walked up then and glanced at Con. “I agree. Fallon was looking for Malcolm.”

  The tension between Con and Banan was evident. But that was Dragon King business and didn’t involve Phelan. Though he was immensely curious, which meant there was no way he was keeping his mouth shut.

  “So Fallon called looking for Malcolm?” Phelan asked.

  Con slowly pulled his gaze away from Banan. “Before Rhys arrived with Malcolm, aye.”

  “You’ve dealt with drough blood inside you,” Rhys said as if to change the subject. “Can you no’ figure out what it is Wallace has done to change it?”

  Phelan looked into the room and saw Evie use her finger to measure the length of a cut on Malcolm’s arm. Her concern was evident, as was her caring. Maybe he’d been too hard on her.

  Then again, she was drough. By choice.

  Phelan cleared his throat as he looked at the Kings. He lowered his voice and said, “I sensed death when trying to heal Malcolm. It’s nagged me ever since. Death has a certain feel to it. It’s no’ something I’d mistake, no’ after all the battles I’ve been in.”

  “Wallace did die,” Banan pointed out.

  Phelan wanted to punch something. “Fuck. How did we all miss it? How did we all overlook something so obvious?”

  “Because it was too obvious,” Hal said with a twist of his lips.

  Guy shook his head. “With Wallace having come back from the dead, he brought Death back with him. It’s inside him, so it would be in his blood.”

  “And now inside Malcolm,” Phelan said, hatred for Wallace rising to new heights.

  “There is one who could help,” Hal said into the silence.

  Con’s gaze whipped to him, fury coming off him in waves. “Doona even dare bring it up. Ulrik’s power is gone. Now leave it, Hal.”

  Phelan watched Con stalk away. Ulrik’s name again? It wasn’t the first time Phelan had heard his name, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

  By the way the four remaining Kings exchanged looks, Ulrik was a cause of discontent through the ranks of the dragons.

  “It was worth a try,” Guy said and clapped Hal on the shoulder.

  Banan jerked his chin to Phelan. “I think it’s time you called Fallon.”

  But Phelan wasn’t so sure. “Why didna Con tell him where Malcolm was? I gather Con knew Guy and the others had gone to help.”

  “Aye,” Banan said tightly. “Con didna give me a reason for lying to Fallon. He just said to leave it.”

  Rhys raked a hand through his hair. “Con doesna do anything without a purpose. If he didna tell Fallon, there was a good cause for it.”

  “I doona know Con as you all, but I was thinking the same thing. He’s helped us before. Why would he stop now?” Phelan asked, more to himself than the others.

  But it was Hal who asked, “What are you thinking?”

  Phelan met his gaze and sighed. “I’m thinking I wait to contact Fallon.”

  “And if Charon does it?”

  “He willna,” Phelan said. “No’ yet anyway.”

  Guy pushed away from the wall. “You said Charon was given a serum. Why did he need it?”

  “When he took a blade meant for Arran, my blood couldna heal him immediately either. He was left with the feel of that blade in him for weeks after. Larena suffered even more. No Druid magic could stop her death, though I do think they brought her back somehow.”

  Banan frowned, his head cocked to the side. “Brought her back? Are you telling me she died?”

  Phelan nodded. “She returned different. Larena struggled to remain in control of her goddess. She wanted to let it all go and give in. Had Fallon no’ been there, I believe she would’ve.”

  All five of them turned their heads to look at Malcolm’s still form. Phelan knew how close to that edge Malcolm already walked. What would happen if he woke just as Larena did?

  Phelan didn’t want to have to hunt his friend and kill him. Malcolm could be a cold son of a bitch, but he was still part of the MacLeod family. He deserved better.

  “Malcolm was changing,” Guy said.

  Phelan looked at him and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “He was beginning to feel again.”

  Rhys nodded. “His emotions were all over the place. He couldna get a handle on them most of the time, but he’s no longer indifferent to things.”

  “Cold. That’s what I heard Quinn call him,” Banan said. “The last time I saw Malcolm he was detached and, aye, apathetic.”

  Hal scratched his check. “No’ the Malcolm I spoke with today.”

  “He said Evie did it,” Guy explained. “She’s what made him begin to feel again. It’s why he was so adamant about her being protected and no’ harmed.”

  Guy suddenly smiled wearily and pushed past him. Phelan turned to see Elena, Guy’s wife, walk up. She wrapped her arms around Guy and held him for several seconds.

  When she pulled back, her sage green gaze locked on Phelan. “It’s good to see you. I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “Aye,” Phelan said and watched as Guy gave a slight tug to the dark blond locks of her ponytail.

  “Con said Evie might need this,” Elena said and held out a bottle of Dreagan scotch.

  Rhys was the one to take it. “We all do. Thanks, Elena.”

  “I’ll bring something up for her to eat,” Elena said as she peered around Phelan to look inside. Her face went pale as she caught sight of Malcolm. “Dear God.”

  Guy pulled her away from the door. “We’re going to make sure he survives. Charon, Laura, and Aisley are on their way. Will you show them up when they arrive?”

  Phelan didn’t hear what she said as he took the bottle of whisky and strode into the room where some glasses were set on a table. He took one and filled it with the amber liquid before setting the bottle aside.

  He walked to Evie and squatted beside her chair. “You look like you could use this.”

  Her devastated expression hit him squarely in the chest. Phelan knew in that instant that somehow Malcolm and Evie had found a connection. She’d reached a part of Malcolm everyone had thought dead.

  For that, he owed her a debt.

  But he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if she used her black magic for evil.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-SIX

  Evie accepted the glass, and without asking what it was, drained it. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and coughed as the whisky burned her throat.

  “Sipping it might have been better, lass,” Rhys said as he came into the room.

  She licked her lips as the warmth of the alcohol settled in her stomach. “I need him to wake up. I have to know he’s all right.”

  “I’ll make sure he is,” Phelan said as he rose and walked to the other side of the bed.

  She gaped when a gold claw extended from Phelan’s finger and he cut his arm, letting his blood flow onto Malcolm. “Um … that’s unsanitary.”

  “Warriors are no’ like mortals,” Guy said.

  Phelan cut himself several more times, the blood flowing quickly. “Another Warrior’s blood will normally reverse the effects of drough blood.”

  “But?” she asked when she recognized there was more. “I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

  “But … Wallace changed the game by altering his blood. No’ even the Druids can heal a Warrior infected with drough blood now.”

  She clutched the glass in both hands as her stomach clenched in dread. “You’re not giving up trying. Thank you.”

  “My blood is … different,” Phelan said. “I can heal anything.”

  Guy leaned his hands on the dark wood of the footboard. “I doona see much change
in Malcolm.”

  Evie put her forefinger along one of the cuts on his arm. It had started out a half inch longer than her finger. It was now almost to her nail. “He is healing. This cut was longer before.”

  “Keep fighting, Malcolm,” Phelan whispered.

  She looked at Phelan to find his gaze steady on Malcolm’s face, as if he were mentally trying to make Malcolm wake. Evie wished he could. She had to know he was going to be fine before she went to Jason.

  There was no need to talk to anyone about Jason Wallace and his offer. She knew what she had to do. Malcolm paid the price for trying to help her. No one else needed to be hurt. It was her fault this entire mess was created. She would be the one to clean it up.

  One way or another.

  Another ten minutes went by before Phelan halted pouring his blood into Malcolm. Evie had been watching Phelan’s wounds and saw how quickly they disappeared.

  Her chest tightened as she realized Malcolm should be healing that quickly as well. He’d known Brian’s kidnapper was Jason Wallace. Malcolm had also understood that Jason would try and take her.

  It was Malcolm’s quick thinking in asking Rhys, Guy, and Hal to help that allowed her to get away. The price, however, could very well be Malcolm’s life.

  Evie was thankful when the men left her alone with him. The door to the room wasn’t shut, and Phelan was never far, but she let out a deep breath all the same.

  Phelan didn’t trust her, and she couldn’t blame him. She was a menace. Look at the giant mess she’d caused because she’d wanted to know if there were other Druids out in the world.

  “Oh, Malcolm,” she whispered and dropped her forehead to the mattress.

  He hadn’t moved an inch. His chest continued to rise and fall, but it was slow. Too slow. She put her hand on his thigh and fought against a fresh wave of tears.

  Crying wouldn’t help him. Evie wasn’t sure if anything could.

  Then she remembered how he liked the feel of her magic. Phelan had also mentioned that Druids used magic to heal. She’d never tried it before, but she knew her grandmother had used a healing spell or two.

  Evie lamented the fact she didn’t have those spells when she recalled how she had used her magic at Urquhart without a spell. She had done it then for Malcolm.