Dangerous Highlander ds-1

by Donna Grant

  “Vaguely. It was a joyous day in our family.”

  “It was hell,” Quinn said. “The labor was long and the baby had to be turned. Elspeth was so weak afterward and had lost so much blood that she nearly died. The midwife cautioned us about having any more children. In Elspeth’s mind, that meant I could no longer make love to her.”

  “Shite,” Fallon murmured.

  “The midwife had given her some herbs to take every day so she wouldn’t conceive again, but Elspeth refused to take them. And I refused to touch her unless she took them. I may have wanted more children, but I wasn’t going to risk her life for them. I was happy with my son, my family that I had.”

  “Quinn.”

  He shook his head. “Doona say it, Fallon. There’s no need. I married Elspeth because I wanted what Mum and Da had. Those special looks and secret smiles they shared with each other. I thought all marriages would be that way.”

  “Nay. Not all.”

  “I learned that too late. I see those same looks between Lucan and Cara, and I envy them what they’ve found. You’ve always been the eldest, the one in charge. Lucan has always been able to fix anyone’s problems, no matter how big or small. I had nothing. I was nothing.”

  “You had us,” Fallon said as he faced Quinn.

  “You are a MacLeod. A fine warrior, and a Highlander I’m proud to call brother.”

  Quinn slammed his hand down on the stones, cracking them. “Look at me, Fallon. I cannot control the creature, and God help me, but I don’t really want to. I’m not fit to be near anyone.”

  “The god chooses the best warrior from each family, Quinn. The god inside us chose all three MacLeod brothers. What does that tell you?”

  “That the god is an idiot.”

  “That all three of us are the best warriors.”

  Quinn shook his head, desperately wanting to believe his brother. “You and Lucan are all I have now, but the rage inside me burns and grows the longer I watch Lucan and Cara. I’ve tried to control it. Lucan deserves joy. I don’t begrudge him in the least.”

  “Neither of you left me while I stayed in my wine-induced haze. We won’t leave you now. We’ll get through this, Quinn, as we’ve done everything else. We’re MacLeods. We only have each other.”

  Quinn opened his mouth to answer when something on the cliffs caught his eye. He narrowed his gaze and leaned over the battlements.

  “God’s blood,” he murmured, and watched as a Warrior came in sight.

  “I’ll go to Lucan and Cara. You tell the others,” Fallon said before he ran from the battlements.

  Quinn’s gut clenched with unease while his blood burned for battle. He cupped his hands around his mouth and gave the whistle that sounded more like a bird than a man. Shadows moved on the castle letting him know they had heard and understood.

  The attack they had been expecting for days was upon them.

  Quinn tilted back his head and let the rage consume him.

  * * *

  Cara sat in Lucan’s lap, her head resting on his shoulder. She didn’t regret telling him of her love nor had she expected him to reply in kind. But she had hoped.

  They had long since dressed, but they had been unable to stop touching each other. She closed her eyes as his fingers combed through her hair, prickling her scalp with delicious pleasure.

  She didn’t understand his love of her hair, but she enjoyed it. She had a particular fascination with his body in which she could never look enough, feel enough of him.

  Her hand moved over his heart. It beat strong and steady, just like him. She glanced up to find his gaze in the flames before them. He was thinking of the coming battle.

  Since he was a Warrior, she didn’t fear him being wounded. And since Deirdre wanted all the Warriors, especially the Macleods, Cara didn’t worry about their heads being chopped off.

  But Lucan worried about her.

  Her gaze shifted to her sword, which stood next to the hearth, leaned against the stones. Her dagger, the beautiful dagger Lucan had made for her, was strapped to her hip. All they could do was wait.

  Suddenly the sound of Quinn’s whistle, the alarm for danger, sounded. Cara jerked upright and met Lucan’s gaze. The battle was upon them.

  The door to the castle burst open and Fallon rushed inside, slamming the door behind him. “Quinn spotted the first Warrior.”

  Cara started to rise from Lucan’s lap when his hands held her down. She looked at him and saw the fear in his eyes.

  “Stay with me, Cara.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  He slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her to his mouth for a kiss that was slow and sensual, full of passion and the love they had confessed. “We’ll beat the Warriors again,” he murmured.

  When he released her, she rushed to get her sword and palmed the dagger in her left hand. She missed Lucan’s warmth already. She had dreaded this night, for she knew her life would be forever changed.

  Fallon leapt on top of the table, two swords in his hands. She waited for Lucan to ask him to transform, but he didn’t. Lucan held her gaze as his skin darkened to black and his beautiful sea green eyes vanished beneath the obsidian. He flexed his fingers and the long claws that gleamed onyx in the firelight.

  She walked toward him and rose on her tiptoes to place her lips against his. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. His fangs gently scraped her lip, but instead of hurting, she found the sensation thrilling, and dangerous.

  He released her and she moved against the wall. Lucan stood in front of her and a little to her left so she could see Fallon.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and her stomach dipped and pitched so much she thought she might be sick. She wasn’t ready for this no matter what she had told Lucan. But no amount of training could have readied her for the coming attack.

  She pulled in a shaky breath and made her fingers loosen on her weapons. She held them too tight, was too nervous. They would be knocked out of her hands without much force.

  With a great amount of effort, she steadied her breathing and tried to calm her racing heart. Lucan and the others had taught her how to stay out of reach of the wyrrans and the Warriors. All she had to do was stay near Lucan. He would protect her.

  An eerie scream that wasn’t human sounded from one of the towers. Cara’s heart lurched.

  “It seems one of the wyrran found a trap,” Fallon said with a joyful smile.

  The castle shook as something broke through the stones in an upper part of the castle. Roars and growls and wails of pain reverberated through the castle. Cara shivered and moved closer to Lucan.

  The urge to run and hide was strong, but she was a Druid, a woman who had been gifted with the griffin symbol from her lover. She would not run.

  Fallon lifted his swords over his head with a battle cry that would have made any Highlander proud, as the first wyrran entered the hall. He cleaved the beast’s head off and rotated his swords as he waited for the next.

  They didn’t have long to wait.

  Wyrran poured through the great hall like ants. They crawled down the walls, their pale eyes focused on her. Their inhuman screams made her tremble and long to cover her ears.

  “Cara.”

  Lucan’s voice jerked her out of her fear. He gave her a quick nod over his shoulder before he bent his knees and waited for the next wyrran.

  It was a beautiful sight watching Lucan fight. He moved with such grace and skill and beauty that for a moment she forgot her life was in danger.

  A blur out of the corner of her eye was the only warning she got that a wyrran had come after her. She lifted her sword and spun around. There was a shriek as her blade penetrated the creature’s chest. She wasted no time in cutting off its head.

  But as soon as that one fell, two more took its place.

  The hall faded away as she focused on the two wyrran. They moved as quickly as she did, but she managed to use her dagger to slice one’s ribs while she severed t
he tendons in the back of the other’s knee.

  When it went down, she chopped off its head. She sucked in a breath as claws raked down her back. She was careful not to cry out and cause Lucan to lose concentration while he fought. Instead, she ducked and spun, using her dagger to cut the wyrran’s head from its hairless body.

  * * *

  Quinn leapt from the top of the battlements to the bailey below where a blue-skinned Warrior had just come through the gate house. He landed atop the Warrior and sank his claws in the man’s neck. The Warrior howled and reached back to scour the side of Quinn’s face with his claws.

  Quinn bit back a curse as pain lanced through him, but the pain became anger, fueling his need to kill. He gripped the man’s head and tried to twist it to break his neck, but the Warrior anticipated Quinn’s move and bent over.

  Quinn lost his hold on the Warrior and fell to the ground. He ducked his head and rolled. He came to his feet with a twist to face the Warrior.

  “You won’t win,” the Warrior said. “No one wins against Deirdre.”

  Quinn laughed as he recognized his blue foe as the Warrior he had fought in the first battle. “Then you havena tried hard enough. We’ve stayed out of her evil clutches for over three hundred years.”

  “Ah, but the Druid will be your downfall.”

  Quinn narrowed his gaze as they circled each other. “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said.” The Warrior bared his teeth and ran his tongue over his fangs. “Deirdre wants all of you alive, but I’ve a need for blood this night.”

  “Imagine that. So do I.”

  They clashed with a bone-jarring crash. Quinn jerked his arm away before the Warrior could sink his sharp fangs into him. He threw back his head and roared as the Warrior wrapped his arms around Quinn’s middle and squeezed.

  Quinn head-butted the royal blue Warrior, sending him stumbling backward. It was enough for him to loosen his hold and for Quinn to break free. As soon as Quinn’s feet hit the ground he threw the Warrior against the castle. He fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

  The Warrior rose up on his elbow and shook his head. Quinn had wanted a fight for a long time. It felt good to give in to the rage and bloodlust.

  A shout from above drew his attention. He looked up to find Hayden and three wyrran fighting, Hayden’s red skin glowing in the moonlight as he threw a ball of fire at the ugly creatures.

  When Quinn turned back, the Warrior was gone. Quinn cursed and hurried into the castle, only to stop in his tracks when he saw the sheer number of wyrran in the great hall.

  “Holy hell,” he murmured.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Lucan lost count of the number of wyrran he had killed. Their dead bodies littered the great hall, and he had to watch himself so he didn’t trip over them. For every one wyrran he killed, another three took its place. They were everywhere, their wails making his ears ring.

  He glanced at Cara as often as he could. She stayed near him, just as he’d asked. She had also managed to kill her share of wyrran, though he noticed one had given her a nasty cut down her back.

  She moved with the speed and agility that she had shown in their training, but she was tiring. She wouldn’t be able to last much longer. And with the numbers of the wyrran, they could be battling until dawn.

  Lucan fought his way closer to her so he could take on more of the wyrran. She gave him a quick smile of thanks before she plunged her dagger into one of the yellow creature’s chests, then lopped off its head with her sword.

  Movement near the castle door caught his attention. He looked up to see Quinn enter the castle. A moment later he dove into the fray.

  Somehow, through it all, Fallon had remained in his human form, using his swords as effectively as Cara. Lucan had known Fallon wouldn’t transform, wouldn’t give in to the god inside him. Fallon feared the god too much.

  Lucan’s claws ripped down a wyrran’s chest before he severed its head from its body. It fell to the floor the same instant Lucan spotted three Warriors rushing into the hall from the stairs.

  The traps had slowed the attack, but not by much. Above all the shrieks and growls, Lucan heard Fallon cry out. Lucan turned to see his brother fall, a purple-skinned Warrior standing over Fallon.

  The Warrior smiled at Lucan just before he leaned down and sliced open Fallon’s chest.

  “Nay!” Lucan bellowed.

  He leapt over the diminutive wyrrans to land beside Fallon. His green eyes were crinkled with pain as blood seeped into his tunic. With him in this state, it would be easy for the Warriors or a wyrran to cut off Fallon’s head. Fury slammed into Lucan. His claws cutting, piercing, and slashing the purple skin, he attacked the Warrior. Lucan moved with movements so quick, the Warrior could only jerk with each gash of his body.

  * * *

  Cara watched in horror as Fallon fell, the purple-skinned Warrior wasting no time injuring him. She was glad when Lucan rushed to Fallon’s side, giving him time to rise and move away. It was just a moment later that Quinn joined Lucan but, instead of fighting, he helped Fallon to his feet.

  A sharp pain ran through her leg. Unable to stop the cry from her lips, she turned and sank her dagger into the wyrran’s face. It screamed and clawed at the dagger.

  Cara jerked it out and sliced off the wyrran’s head. When she looked up again, Galen and Ramsey were in the great hall fighting.

  She jumped back to miss another wyrran’s claws and tripped over a dead wyrran. Cara landed hard on her back, but she rolled over and started to climb to her feet when something grabbed her from behind.

  “This was much too easy,” said a rough, unfamiliar voice behind her.

  Cara looked over her shoulder and saw the royal blue face of a Warrior. His smile was sinister, his fangs much too close to her skin for comfort. She struggled to get free, but he leapt onto the wall with her in his arms without difficulty.

  “Lucan!” she yelled, and swung her dagger back toward the Warrior.

  He jumped over the battle below and landed on the stairs, where he grabbed the wrist that held her dagger and squeezed. She clenched her teeth and held on as long as she could. Her bones brushed against one another, the pain unbearable. When her numb fingers could not hold on anymore, the dagger clattered to the stairs.

  “Drop the sword or I break your arm,” the Warrior threatened. “Deirdre wants you alive, but a broken bone willna matter.”

  Cara knew she had to stay strong to get away from him. If she was wounded it would only make things more difficult. She let the sword drop, feeling bereft without her weapons. She had nothing with which to battle the Warriors, but then again, even her weapons hadn’t been enough.

  Once more the Warrior grabbed and jerked her against his chest. She clawed at his back with her nails and kicked with her feet in an effort to connect with his balls.

  The Warrior turned, banging her head against the stone wall. The edges of her vision darkened as she fought to stay conscious. The Warrior continued up the stairs to the landing, his evil laugh making her skin crawl. Just before he turned, Cara raised her head and saw Lucan staring at her.

  * * *

  “Cara!”

  Fallon jerked at the anguished cry of his brother. He turned and saw Lucan looking toward the stairs. Fallon caught a glimpse of Cara being carried away by a Warrior.

  Deirdre must have planned it, because three other warriors attacked Lucan, preventing him from going after Cara. Fallon looked to Quinn, but just like Lucan, he was overtaken by Warriors.

  Fallon forgot the pain of his healing chest and hurried after Cara before he was attacked as well. He followed Cara’s grunts and curses as the Warrior took her to the back tower. By the time Fallon reached it, he saw the Warrior was descending the cliff with Cara on his back.

  Fallon paused as he recalled the look of horror and fear in Lucan’s eyes. Even when they had been in Deirdre’s mountain Lucan had never looked so . . . lost.

  Lucan needed Cara
. Ever since their clan had been destroyed, Lucan had taken care of his brothers. Lucan, who never asked for anything.

  Fallon took in a shaky breath and lifted his arms so he could see his hands. He released the rage he’d kept pent up for centuries. The prickle rushed over his skin seconds before he turned black. He straightened his fingers and saw his nails lengthen into razor-sharp black claws.

  Fear had kept him from transforming, but for Lucan he would face it—and the future.

  Fallon threw back his head and bellowed as a surge of power warmed his skin. He looked over the castle and saw the Warrior and Cara staring up at him. Fallon’s claws scraped the rock as he vaulted over the side and plummeted down the cliff.

  He stopped himself by grabbing a rock, the force jerking his arm out of its socket. Fallon ignored the pain and smiled when he saw how close he was to the Warrior.

  “Hold on, Cara,” he called.

  She lifted eyes wet with tears, clinging to the Warrior’s neck. Fallon couldn’t attack since Cara could lose her hold and fall into the churning sea below. But he also knew he couldn’t let the Warrior reach the bottom.

  Fallon was going to have to think fast.

  * * *

  Lucan had never felt so helpless in his life. He fought, all the while screaming for Cara, against the Warriors trying to hold him. She was gone from him, he knew, but he couldn’t give up.

  “Someone looking for a fight?” Logan yelled as he charged into the great hall, his silver skin bright against the chaos.

  Lucan noticed Hayden behind him. Lucan killed one Warrior while Quinn tore off another’s head. The others scrambled out of the castle as if they’d been called away. Lucan didn’t care why they had left, only that they had.

  No one tried to take him or his brothers. He stopped and looked around the hall. “Where is Fallon?”

  Quinn pointed to the stairs. “He followed Cara.”

  Lucan said a prayer of thanks and hurried after them. He couldn’t lose Cara, not now. Fallon had left a trail of overturned boards and doused torches to let his brothers know where he had gone.