Midnight's Master

by Donna Grant

  Logan fell in step beside Gwynn. He frowned at the faraway look in her eyes, as if she weren’t with them at all anymore.

  “The Book of Craigan,” Gwynn said.

  Logan blinked at the odd sound of Gwynn’s voice. It was deeper, lower, as if it belonged to someone else entirely.

  The entire hall had gone deathly quiet. The contentment and cheerfulness of before vanished, replaced with concern as all eyes were on Gwynn.

  Logan tugged on a lock of Gwynn’s black hair. “Gwynn.”

  “The book wasn’t meant to be read by anyone other than the Keeper.” Gwynn’s gaze snapped to Larena. “It belongs to me.”

  Logan shifted his eyes to Fallon to find Fallon watching him. Logan gave a small nod of his head. Fallon, in turn, touched Larena’s arm.

  “I was bringing it to you,” Larena said and held out the book.

  The Book of Craigan was at least a hand’s width thick, if not more, but Gwynn didn’t flinch at the weight as she accepted it. As soon as it was in her grasp, she blinked and sucked in a deep breath.

  “What just happened?” she asked. Gwynn looked down at the book before turning her eyes to Logan.

  Logan shrugged. “It appears you are the Keeper of the Tablet of Orn.”

  “But what does that mean?”

  Isla took a step forward. “I think you’ll find the answers in the book.”

  “What would have happened had Larena not given Gwynn the book?” Quinn asked.

  Larena sank into her chair at the table and shuddered. “I don’t think I want to find out.”

  “Me neither,” Gwynn said.

  Logan guided her to the table. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  She leaned against him, which thrilled him more than it should have. She trusted him, sought his comfort. And he had done nothing but put her in danger since the moment he met her.

  Logan clenched his jaw until it felt as if his teeth might crack open. As soon as he had learned about Wallace, Logan should have brought Gwynn to the castle to keep her out of harm’s way.

  Instead, he had taken her into the viper’s nest. He had tainted her wonderful, pure magic with Declan’s. And if Logan wasn’t careful, if he didn’t put some distance between himself and Gwynn, Deirdre was likely to get a hold of her as well.

  It took Logan a moment to realize everyone had taken their seats but him. He ignored the question in Hayden’s black eyes and made his body lower beside Gwynn.

  Galen let out a low whistle. “I felt the book’s magic from the moment Larena appeared with it, but once it rested in Gwynn’s hands—”

  “The magic increased,” Lucan finished.

  Reaghan’s head tilted to the side, her hair moving with her. “The magic within the book is combining with Gwynn’s.”

  “I have little magic,” Gwynn said.

  Sonya chuckled and shook her head. “On the contrary, Gwynn, despite not using your magic, it’s stronger than you realize.”

  “Open the book,” Logan urged her. He could feel her curiosity, but he saw her hesitation, the apprehension in the way she held her lips flat.

  Gwynn glanced at him before she tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear and ran a hand over the cover of the book. A wave of magic surrounded him, encircled him. It sizzled as hot as the rays of the sun, and was as intoxicating as the Druid beside him.

  Logan’s body hummed with the feel of Gwynn’s magic. It filled his lungs and clung to his skin. He was sinking with it. Drowning. Plummeting.

  And all he wanted to do was pull Gwynn into his arms. He ached to hold her again and feel her curvy body against his. He yearned to feel her scorching heat surround him. He longed to hear her scream his name again as she peaked.

  As if she sensed his need, Gwynn turned her head and met his gaze. Her violet eyes had darkened, her plump lips parted as if she waited for his kiss.

  Logan took hold of the last thread of his control and turned his head away. He dragged a deep breath into his body, but it did nothing to calm the need that had arisen, sharp and true.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gwynn open the cover of the book. The leather creaked, and the smell of paper and ink reached him.

  “It’s in Gaelic,” Gwynn said. “I cannot read Gaelic.”

  “We can,” Hayden offered.

  Logan put his hand on the book and felt a tingle of magic race up his arm. The magic wound its way through him, becoming a part of him until Logan could barely draw breath.

  He clenched his other hand into a fist under the table and locked gazes with Hayden. “Let her try first.”

  Hayden shrugged. “If she can no’ read it, Logan, she can no’ read it.”

  “Give her a moment.”

  When Gwynn didn’t respond, Logan turned his head and looked at her. Her violet eyes were locked on the book. And they began to glow.

  Logan jumped up, ready to yank Gwynn away, when Marcail’s hand touched his arm.

  “As you said, give her a moment.”

  “She could be in pain,” Logan argued.

  Isla shook her head, a smile forming. “She’s not. That’s her magic, Logan. Watch her. See it grow within her.”

  Logan swallowed hard as a gust of wind blew open the castle doors and howled through the great hall. It wound around Gwynn once, twice, and then was gone.

  But not before it brushed against Logan.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Gwynn gasped as the force of her magic welled inside her. As soon as she had touched the book, her magic had answered. Almost as if it had been waiting for her to touch the relic.

  She could feel everyone in the great hall, especially Logan. He was concerned for her, but he shouldn’t be. She could hear the drums and the chanting of the ancient Druids.

  They were calling to her, urging her to let her magic through. As soon as she did, the wind answered. It enveloped her, soothed her. And she heard its chorus of joyous cheers.

  This is what she was meant to do. There was no fear inside her now about the book or the idea of being the Keeper. The responsibility settled around her shoulders like a comfortable coat. As if she had always worn it and had just needed to be reminded what it felt like.

  The wind left the great hall, but it would never be far from her again.

  Gwynn blinked and looked down at the book. The letters in the title kept changing, constantly shifting. She waved a hand over them and whispered in Gaelic, “Cuirstad air.”

  The letters stopped moving instantly.

  “Cease,” Logan repeated in English.

  Gwynn turned the page and began to read. To her surprise, Logan had been right. She could not only read the words but understood them as well.

  “What does it say?” Fallon asked.

  Gwynn shrugged, but didn’t look up from the book. “I’ve just begun to read. It’s telling me how the Druids on Eigg were given the Tablet of Orn to safeguard. Not only did it strengthen their magic, but it helped to protect them as long as it stayed on the isle.”

  “I thought the Druids of Eigg crafted the artifact,” Cara said.

  Gwynn shook her head. “Not according to this. It doesn’t say who gave it to the Druids, but it already held a great amount of magic before it ever came to Eigg.”

  “Interesting,” Broc said.

  “Not sure how that matters,” Quinn added.

  Gwynn sighed. “It does. It means that as powerful as the Druids of Eigg were, they didn’t make the Tablet of Orn.”

  “She’s right. Who would give that kind of artifact to someone else though?” Isla asked.

  Gwynn didn’t care. All that mattered was that the Tablet of Orn was hers to guard. To protect. It wasn’t just Deirdre after it now; Declan sought it as well.

  How much information had her father gotten from the book? Was it enough for Declan to attempt to retrieve the tablet from Eigg?

  “It will take you weeks to get through that book, Gwynn,” Fallon said.

  She didn’t bother to respond
. She’d already read the first twenty pages. Most of it was the history of the isle and the Druids—her ancestors.

  Someone tried to touch the book and jumped back with a shout. Gwynn didn’t look up. She was too absorbed in the pages to care what had happened.

  “Gwynn,” Logan said and put his hand atop the page she was reading.

  After a second, she lifted her eyes to him and frowned. “What is it?”

  “We’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes. You didna respond.”

  “I heard Fallon tell me it would take weeks to get through the book.”

  “That was several minutes ago.”

  She shook her head. “Impossible. It was just a few seconds.”

  Logan’s gaze was steady, his hazel eyes holding hers.

  Gwynn leaned back and let out a breath. “The book took me, didn’t it?”

  “It did.”

  “It’s just so interesting. The information it holds on my ancestors is fascinating.”

  Broc growled. “And bloody irritating.”

  Gwynn looked from Logan to Broc, then around the table. “What is Broc talking about?”

  “He tried to pull the book away from you,” Sonya said. “I tried to warn him, but he didn’t listen.”

  “And it zapped me,” Broc grumbled.

  Gwynn looked at the book and Logan’s hand, which was still on it. She turned to him. “Did it hurt you?”

  Slowly he shook his head.

  “That I find fascinating,” Reaghan said.

  Isla nodded her head. “As do I.”

  “What do you think it means?” Galen asked.

  Broc rolled his eyes. “It means the sodding book likes Logan.”

  “It means the book knows something,” Marcail said.

  Gwynn scooted her chair back from the table and stood. She had to put some distance between herself and the book. And herself and Logan.

  Could Marcail be right? Did the book know that Gwynn cared for Logan?

  But Gwynn didn’t dislike Broc or any of the others. So why had it allowed Logan to touch it without being zapped?

  Gwynn walked to the far wall. She leaned back and rested her head against the cool stones. She closed her eyes and recalled how boring her life had been. Now, everything was turned upside down and she was constantly questioning herself and her decisions.

  “It’s a lot to take in.”

  Gwynn’s eyes flew open to find Reaghan beside her. “You could say that.”

  “Does the book and its power frighten you?”

  “It didn’t.” Gwynn shrugged. “But it does now that I’m away from it.”

  Reaghan smiled, and it reached her deep gray eyes. “You’ve forgotten your magic for years. It will take some getting used to, but you need to learn to trust it. It saved your life as well as Logan’s, if you’ll recall.”

  “Yes. It did.” So why did she still fear it?

  “Logan appears to be settling in well.”

  Gwynn blinked at the change of topic, but she welcomed it. Anything to keep her from delving too deep into herself. “He’s kept an open mind.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving though, can’t they?”

  Reaghan was trying to tell her something, but Gwynn wasn’t sure what it was. “They can. But that’s not Logan.”

  “It has been four centuries since we’ve seen him, and you’ve spent a great deal of time with him recently.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  She picked at the auburn hair that curled around her cheeks. “Get him to talk. He keeps much inside himself. The others have been worried for some time about the darkness he carries.”

  “What is the darkness?”

  “That we don’t know. We were hoping you might be able to find out. You see, Gwynn, Logan has always been known as the jokester, the one who is always laughing, always charming.”

  “I’ve definitely seen that side of him.”

  “But you’ve seen the darkness as well.”

  It wasn’t a question. Gwynn nodded. “I have. It comes and goes. Logan keeps it well hidden.”

  “He kept it hidden very well for a long time. It’s not good for someone to carry that within themselves. For whatever reason, you are Logan’s to guard, just as he is yours to lean on in the upcoming days.”

  Gwynn grew uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. “Look, Logan is a big boy. He can take care of himself. If he’s carried this … darkness … within himself for so long, it won’t interfere with anything now. I know he won’t let it.”

  “It’s something to think on.” Reaghan smiled and started to walk away. “We could use your help in the kitchen.”

  Gwynn glanced at the table where the men still sat. Logan was listening to something Lucan was saying. It was as if Logan could feel her gaze, because he turned his head and looked at her.

  She smiled and followed Reaghan into the kitchen.

  Gwynn didn’t know what she expected to find in the castle kitchen, but it wasn’t an industrial-sized refrigerator and freezer. She peered through the glass doors and chuckled to find the shelves completely stocked.

  “Wow.”

  Cara laughed. “Yes, it is something. With Galen’s appetite, we have to replenish twice a week.”

  Reaghan let out a dramatic sigh. “I’d love to know how he can eat all that food. It’s disturbing how much he eats.”

  In the middle of the kitchen was a large island complete with a small sink. The top was thick wood that looked as old as the castle itself.

  “It’s the original worktable,” Marcail said when Gwynn touched it. “When we updated the kitchen, we all decided it should remain.”

  “As well as one of the original ovens,” Isla said.

  Gwynn turned her head and saw a newer double oven, but not far down the wall from it was an original stone oven. “Amazing. Truly.”

  “We still use it,” Cara said.

  Sonya nodded. “The bread tastes the best baked there instead of in the other ovens.”

  “Bread?” Gwynn repeated. “You bake your own bread?”

  Larena laughed and popped a cherry tomato in her mouth. “Not as often as we used to.”

  “We used to have everything we needed right here at the castle,” Cara said. “I still grow many of the herbs we use to cook in my garden.”

  “And the men still hunt for our meat,” Marcail said.

  Sonya pulled a cutting knife from a drawer and began to dice some green onions. “Now, we get most of our food from the stores.”

  Gwynn smiled when she was handed another knife and some potatoes. She quickly set about cleaning and peeling them before she cut them into chunks.

  She settled onto a stool as the women began to talk about everything from clothes to makeup to cutting their hair. Gwynn found herself laughing so hard she was crying.

  “We need to make a list of what we want to get the men for presents,” Sonya said.

  Gwynn licked her lips as she thought of spending Christmas with Logan. “When were y’all planning to head into town to shop?”

  “We don’t,” Marcail said with a roll of her eyes.

  Larena elbowed Marcail in the arm and shook her head. “I can go, but because of the spell halting their aging, they need to stay here.”

  “Going out every once in awhile won’t do anything,” Isla said. “I’ve tried to tell the men that.”

  “They don’t want anything to happen to us,” Cara said.

  Reaghan wiped her hands on a towel. “They could come with us to ensure nothing does.”

  “Instead, Larena does the shopping for us,” Marcail said.

  Larena smiled at Gwynn. “We could go together if you’d like.”

  “Since Logan has returned, I don’t see why we can’t leave the castle,” Sonya said.

  Isla shrugged. “We have no idea how long it will take the others to find us.”

  Almost immediately there was a shout from the great hall. All of the women ra
n out of the kitchen. Gwynn peered around Cara to find a young man who had the same dark green eyes as Quinn.

  “Look who we found on the road home!” the young man shouted.

  “Aiden,” Marcail said. “It’s about time you got home. Oh!”

  Two men in medieval breeches and tunics and one in a kilt stepped into the castle and the Warriors erupted in shouts as they greeted them.

  “That’s Ramsey, Arran, and Camdyn,” Isla said from beside Gwynn. She smiled, blinking away tears. “They’ve made it home.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  December 22nd

  Deirdre stood at the top of her mountain and closed her eyes against the harsh winter wind that roared by her. The clouds above her were dark gray and hung heavy in the sky.

  The snow had begun to fall hours earlier, but not even that had kept her inside.

  The empire she had built over centuries had been destroyed in one single blow by the MacLeods. Then, just as she was getting everything back the way it was supposed to be, Declan had interfered.

  Deirdre wasn’t sure whom she wanted to kill first. Though she was leaning toward Declan. Wouldn’t it serve her master right if she killed Declan and took his magic?

  She smiled and snuggled into her jacket. Deirdre didn’t know much about Declan’s plans, but she knew he wanted to rule just as she did.

  And she would only rule alone.

  With her mind set, she made her way back into the mountain. She wasn’t surprised to find Malcolm leaning casually against the wall opposite her chamber.

  “Did you already find what I sent you to town for?” she asked.

  He pushed his tall, muscular frame from the wall and raised a brow. “Of course. It’s as Declan told you. Clans are no’ what they used to be. We’ll be hard-pressed to find men for Warriors.”

  “I don’t think so. There has to be some event, some kind of sport where men can prove themselves.”

  “There are a few.”

  “Then find me the best of the best. If they cannot be made into a Warrior, then I will find other uses for them.”

  When Malcolm didn’t move, she rolled her eyes and sighed. “What is it?”