Midnight's Master

by Donna Grant

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Deirdre walked into her beloved Cairn Toul mountain and smiled. The stones had deafened her with their cries of joy on her return.

  “I should never have left,” she murmured as she paused at the outcropping that overlooked the cavern she used as a great hall.

  But she’d had no choice, thanks to the MacLeods. They had forced her to leave, and because of that another drough had dared to take her from her time.

  A wyrran cooed next to her, its huge yellow eyes gazing at her with the adoration Deirdre craved.

  “We’re home,” she told the wyrran. “It’s time to turn this mountain back into what it once was.”

  The silence inside the mountain made Deirdre itch to hear the tortured screams of the Druids once more. The dungeons would hold Warriors again, and this time she wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

  Declan had thought he could hold her, thought he could make her bend to his will. He’d been dead wrong, and he would pay for all that he had done.

  Deirdre smiled as she thought of all the ways she could make Declan bellow in agony. She made her way to her chamber, running her fingers along the stones as she did.

  She got strength from the stones. They spoke to her, just as she could speak to them. They and the wyrran were the only ones who had never betrayed her.

  Deirdre stepped into her chamber and let her gaze wander over the dirt, dust, and spiderwebs that had taken over everything.

  A tsking sounded around her, bouncing off the stones until it reverberated over and over again.

  “Have you learned nothing?” the voice said.

  Deirdre took a deep breath and turned to the black smoke that seeped from between the cracks in the stone walls. It filled her chamber until she couldn’t see her hand before her face.

  “I’ve learned a great deal,” Deirdre answered. She was careful to keep her voice even. It had taken just one instance of allowing Him to know she was angry to learn that if she wanted to live, she could never do it again.

  He chuckled. “You should have listened to me and forgotten about the artifacts. You should have kept to the course I set for you and killed Lucan and Fallon MacLeod.”

  “I was in the process of doing just that. I killed Duncan Kerr. Ian would have been mine to control.”

  The smoke thickened, choking Deirdre. “Do. Not. Lie. You may have killed Duncan, but you went to Mallaig in order to get the artifact.”

  “I did.”

  “Even after I told you to let it go?”

  The smoke tightened around her, squeezing her so that she couldn’t take a breath. “Aye,” she managed to get out.

  “Why?” the voice boomed.

  “I need them. The artifacts will make me stronger,” she said between gasping breaths.

  Suddenly, the pressure lifted, but the smoke swirled with fury. “You were to have been my greatest achievement, Deirdre.”

  “I still will be.”

  “I don’t doubt that. Your will to dominate is strong. But I had to put other precautions in place.”

  And that’s when Deirdre realized her master, Satan, had added to Declan’s magic to make him stronger. “Declan.”

  “I thought you might get along better with him.”

  Deirdre snorted. “Why? You know I won’t fail you.”

  “I want to ensure that you don’t. Declan doesn’t care about the artifacts. He wants power. He wants to rule. And he wants you.”

  “I don’t want him.”

  The deep voice laughed, long and low. “I’ve given him much power, enough magic that he is a perfect match for you.”

  “You helped him bring me to this time.” It wasn’t a question, but she wanted Him to admit it.

  “I did. I’ve also helped your cause by getting rid of the Druids.”

  Deirdre’s breath left her in a rush. She needed those Druids in order to gain their magic. “All of them?”

  “Oh, there are a few walking about. The Druids at MacLeod Castle are still there. Most of the others have no idea what they are. You should be able to find them easily enough.”

  She clasped her hands behind her back. “I will conquer this world without Declan Wallace.”

  “It will be an interesting show,” the voice said, a smile evident in the words. “By the way, I thought you might like to know that Ian Kerr was brought with you to this time.”

  For the first time since her master had arrived Deirdre smiled. “How fortuitous for me. He will be the first Warrior I find. And he’ll be the perfect instrument to penetrate MacLeod Castle.”

  “Just what I wanted to hear. No more artifacts.”

  “But I must have them. They will make me stronger.”

  “That is what I’m for!”

  Deirdre lowered her gaze in submission. “I can get the artifacts and kill Lucan and Fallon.”

  “Do you know why the MacLeods want the artifacts so desperately?”

  She shrugged. “To prevent me from having them.”

  “Because, my faithful servant, those artifacts allow them to enter a tomb. The tomb that holds your sleeping sister.”

  “Laria?” Deirdre whispered in shock.

  “Yes. If Laria rises, she will attempt to kill you.”

  “She doesn’t have any magic.”

  Another laugh, this one dry and angry. “She always did. You never saw it because she hid it so well. Leave the artifacts alone.”

  “If I do, the MacLeods will awaken her.”

  “I won’t let that happen.” The smoke began to drift back into the stones. “Remember, Deirdre. If you don’t do what I want I will have Declan replace you. In everything.”

  The threat was enough to make Deirdre shiver.

  But not enough to make her forget the artifacts. Now, more than ever she had to have them. Laria could never awaken. Never.

  Deirdre didn’t think her twin could kill her, but she didn’t want to take the chance, either. As long as she had the artifacts, she would be stronger. And no one would open her sister’s tomb.

  “That was interesting,” said a male voice from behind her.

  Deirdre spun around to find Malcolm standing in her doorway with his arms crossed. There was no anger, no surprise, no happiness … nothing on his face.

  “You shouldn’t have seen that,” Deirdre said.

  Malcolm shrugged, a lock of his golden hair falling over his forehead into his eyes. “Why no’? I’ve always known you took orders from the devil. I just never realized he visited you before.”

  Deirdre waved away his words. “We have other concerns. Ian was brought forward with us. I want him found.”

  “I’ll see it done,” Malcolm vowed and dropped his arms as he began to turn away.

  “Nay. I need you to stay here for the time being.”

  Malcolm shrugged and resumed his position. “Whatever you’d like.”

  Deirdre grinned. Malcolm was the perfect Warrior. He had his rage under control, but he would kill anything with one command from her. Even those at MacLeod Castle. All because she had promised him she would leave his precious cousin, Larena, alone.

  “I’m going to send the wyrran out.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” Malcolm asked. “There are more people about than we are used to.”

  “I no longer care. I need to find Druids and the artifact. I’m going to send a small group of wyrran to the Isle of Eigg for the artifact.”

  Malcolm nodded. “We will finish what we began.”

  Deirdre smiled as the ends of her white hair lifted from the floor and swirled around her. “In more ways than one.”

  * * *

  Logan and Gwynn ate a hasty lunch and were on the ferry in less than an hour. The wind was exceptionally harsh and caused large waves, making the ferry move even faster than before.

  Gwynn held her stomach and moaned, her complexion paling.

  “What is it?” Logan asked.

  “The boat is rocking. It’s making me sick to my stomac
h.”

  Logan looked at the water and allowed a portion of his god to surface. He made sure to keep turned so that no one saw him, and then he used the power his god gave him and commanded the waters to calm.

  Instantly, the sea’s rough waves disappeared into the regular gently rolling waters.

  “Oh, thank God,” Gwynn said and closed her eyes.

  Logan didn’t mind not receiving the credit. Part of him wished he could tell her—show her—what he was, but it wouldn’t be wise.

  “Odd, though, isn’t it?”

  “What?” Logan asked.

  Gwynn peered over the railing to the water below them. “How the water calmed so suddenly.”

  “Scotland’s weather is always surprising. You never know what you’ll get from one moment to the next.”

  She laughed, her violet eyes bright. “The same holds true for Texas weather.”

  When they reached Eigg, Gwynn set out with sure steps across the isle. Logan stayed by her side, his gaze on the crowd around him.

  Few people paid them any heed. Apparently, Logan was blending in.

  Logan spotted a few men wearing kilts, but they were different from his own. More modern, as Gwynn would say. Logan liked the old ways better.

  He glanced above him and frowned at the heavy gray clouds hanging low in the sky. “There’s a storm coming.”

  “I think I may need two jackets,” Gwynn grumbled. She sniffed and huddled deeper into her jacket.

  “A thicker scarf and gloves, I’d say.”

  She cut her eyes to him and grinned. “You up for more shopping?”

  “Ah…”

  Her laugh sounded around them, lightening Logan’s heart. “Yeah. I didn’t think so. Most guys would rather be doing anything other than shopping. Don’t worry, though. I’ve already decided I need something thicker than what I have. I’ll pick it up sometime today.”

  “We will get whatever you need.” He knew she suffered in the cold weather, and since it was December, it was only going to get colder.

  Gwynn’s breath puffed around her as she chuckled. “There doesn’t seem to be as many people as there were yesterday.”

  “It’s the weather that’s coming in. It’ll bring snow for sure. And lots of it by the look of the clouds.”

  “I used to wish every Christmas it would snow where I lived. Sometimes, if we got lucky, every ten years or so we’d get a few flurries that would melt as soon as they hit the ground.”

  “Christmas?” he asked. He’d learned a lot from her, and even some from the computer, but apparently there was still more for him to assimilate.

  “Yeah. It’s when we celebrate the birth of Jesus. We decorate our houses with colored lights. Inside our houses we put up trees, which we adorn with lights and ornaments, and then we put our gifts to each other under the tree. On Christmas morning we exchange gifts.”

  “I see.” Though Logan was sure that what he pictured in his head wasn’t at all what she was trying to explain.

  She laughed again, and he discovered he loved the sound of it.

  “I’ll show you pictures on the laptop when we get back to the hotel. It’s really a magical season. The songs, the holiday cheer, the parties, and the sales for shopping.”

  It was Logan’s turn to chuckle. “I take it you like to shop.”

  “Most women do. Mostly I just look. I have expensive tastes, it seems, so I can rarely afford to buy what I want.”

  Logan frowned, not understanding how she could be so nonchalant about it. “So you cannot afford to buy what you need?”

  “Need and want are two different things, Logan. I have all I need and more. Wanting, say, the Jimmy Choo boots I’ve been eyeing for a couple of months is all about knowing how great they would look with this cashmere sweater dress I have.”

  He understood all about wanting. Hadn’t Logan wanted to go back in time and change his decision to go to Deirdre? Hadn’t he wished he had heeded his brother’s cries and returned to the warmth of his family’s cottage?

  Gwynn’s small hand touched his arm, and Logan looked up to find he’d stopped walking.

  “Are you all right?”

  The concern in Gwynn’s violet eyes helped to ease the guilt that had begun to choke him. “Aye.”

  “It’s not good to hold everything inside, you know. I did it, and it nearly ruined me.”

  Logan couldn’t imagine Gwynn suffering any kind of guilt. There was a sense of serenity and purity about her. People such as Gwynn didn’t make the kind of mistakes Logan had. “How did you do it?”

  “There was a time when my father and I didn’t speak,” she said as she began walking again, this time at a much slower pace. “I resented the fact that he was always at the university. To me, it seemed like he cared more about his research than he did about his family. Many nights I lay awake listening to my mother cry when he didn’t come home once again.”

  “He stayed at the university?”

  Gwynn nodded. “There was a couch in his office he would sleep on. He had a closet full of clothes and everything. That was his home, It was more his home than the one he had with us. My resentment turned to hate when I was a teenager. It was always just my mom and me. Always.”

  “You two were close.” Logan could see it in the way she’d smile when she spoke about her mother.

  “Yes. We did everything together. No matter how many nights or weeks would pass without my father returning home, she was always so thrilled when he finally did. I never understood how she could be like that. She told me she loved him. As if that made up for the way he treated us.”

  “Did he no’ do things with you?”

  “Not at all. I was always in the way. He would take Mom out or bring her home a small gift, tell her he was sorry and wouldn’t stay away so long next time. Then he would leave the next morning.”

  The more Gwynn spoke, the less he liked Gary Austin.

  “Five years ago, Mom began to feel run down. It was so unlike her. She’d always had boundless energy. She was always ready to do something, anything. A year went by, and it only got worse.

  “I’d moved into my own place by that time, but I began to stay with her to make sure she ate. She could barely get out of bed by then. It was then that I discovered my dad hadn’t been to see her in three months. I was going to call him and give him a piece of my mind…”

  “But she asked you no’ to,” Logan said.

  Gwynn glanced at him and nodded sadly. “She said she didn’t want him to see her like that. I finally convinced her she needed to go to the doctor. Turned out she had leukemia. It went untreated for a year, Logan.”

  He frowned as he tried to recall if he’d heard of whatever the disease was. “What is leukemia?”

  “Cancer of the bone marrow. The disease had progressed to a state that not even a bone marrow transplant from me would help her.”

  “What would you have had to do?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “They would go in and take part of my bone marrow to give to her.”

  “It sounds painful.”

  “It is, but I would have done it.”

  Logan wanted to touch her, to pull her into his arms and take away the hurt and pain he saw on her face. The knowledge that she suffered through this alone without her father there to help made him want to rip out Gary’s throat.

  “Somehow Mom lived another year. It was a horrible time. She was in so much pain and in and out of hospitals. That’s how Dad found us. He’d gone home to find the house empty, and a neighbor had told him where we were. As soon as he came to the hospital, he stayed by her side until the day she passed on.”

  “I’m sorry, Gwynn.”

  “That’s life,” she said through a watery smile. “It’s been three years, and still it feels like the hurt will never go away.”

  “It will. Just think of the good memories you had with her.”

  “I do,” Gwynn said with a nod.

  Logan looked around to see that they we
re all alone on the back side of the isle. It was where they had been the day before when Gwynn had heard the wind.

  “Tell me how things changed between you and your father,” Logan said.

  She rolled her eyes and flattened her lips. “I did it for Mom. She wanted us to get along, so I pretended for her sake. It got to be such a habit that by the time she died, most of my anger at him had faded. He was all the family I had left. I had just lost my mother. I wasn’t ready to be alone in the world.”

  “No one is.”

  A harsh breath left Gwynn’s lips, but there was a hint of a smile as well. “I give him credit, he made an effort with me. We had dinner every Sunday night. We talked throughout the week as well. It was more of a relationship than I’d ever had with him.”

  Logan pulled a strand of hair from her eyelashes. “That’s good though.”

  “Four years ago, had he gone missing, I wouldn’t have lifted a finger to find him. And now, I took a leave of absence from my job and used my savings to fly out here. For what? He’s not here.”

  “Nay, but you’ve discovered yourself. You’ve discovered who you are what you are. You have magic as old as time flowing through you.”

  The smile started small, then grew large. “I do, don’t I? How many people can say that?”

  “Few, I would imagine.”

  She pulled her hand from her pocket and halted as she touched his arm. “Thank you, Logan.”

  He looked down into her violet eyes fringed with thick, black lashes and was captivated. Enthralled.

  Spellbound.

  Their bodies were nearly touching. Logan’s gaze dropped to her lips, and he found himself leaning down to kiss her, to finally have the taste of her he’d been craving.

  Desire filled him, making him ache to feel her in his arms. He hungered for her taste, craved her touched. Yearned for … her.

  Suddenly, the feel of Gwynn’s magic grew and surrounded him, making him crazy with the unsullied, innocent feel of it.… of her.

  He had to have her, had to taste her.

  “Logan,” she whispered.

  He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips. She would say it again, he promised himself. She would scream it as he made her peak.