by Donna Grant
Corann nodded slowly. “Cináed’s right. Magic is fading. Druid bloodlines are mixing with those without magic, diluting it until there are fewer and fewer born with magic. Some of those that have enough to be aware of it doona even know they’re Druids, so they can no’ be trained.”
“You mean like how I don’t have magic,” she said.
Corann gave her a comforting smile. “My dear, the Clachers had a unique ability that, in many ways, outshone and out-powered that of any Druid. They could detect Druids. They were able to find the truth in something and make sure that justice was served.”
“I’m sorry that my family failed in that regard. Is that why the Clachers were wiped out? Because they knew no one would be able to take their place?” she asked Cináed.
“Until you, we believed that there were no other Clachers in that bloodline. We have a brother and sister, Henry and Esther, at Dreagan who have taken up the mantle of the Clachers. We’ve been trying to see if we can trace their family line back to the Clachers, but it’s been difficult.”
The news didn’t seem to sit well with Gemma. “Oh. I see.”
“That doesna mean you are no’ important,” Cináed said. “You could be the last descendent of that line.”
She shrugged. “Or not. Henry and Esther might be. They are, after all, doing what my ancestors did.”
Cináed watched as she rose and walked from the house. His eyes followed her, wondering what he had said that had gone so wrong. When he looked to the old Druid, Corann rolled his eyes.
“For just a moment, she felt as if she were part of something,” Corann explained. “Even without her brother, she meant something.”
Cináed pffted at that. “She means something now. With her blood, she could carry on the Clacher dynasty.”
“And what of Henry and Esther?”
Cináed hadn’t thought of that. Now he understood why Gemma was upset. He looked out the window at her standing with her back to him and her arms crossed. The wind lifted the locks of her ponytail, sending her ginger hair waving.
“I know that look. You’re going to take her to the isle and make it known that Gemma is there,” Corann said.
Cináed ran a hand down his face. “I am. She deserves answers after so long with nothing.”
“I will do my best to help however I can.”
“Keep your Druids and yourself safe.”
Corann grabbed for the staff that he’d leaned near the door when he entered. “You keep her safe.”
“Doona worry. I will.”
Cináed stood as Corann walked from the house. He held back while the Druid went to Gemma and spoke a few words to her. Then he began to make his way over the land.
After a few minutes, Cináed moved to stand beside Gemma. “I doona want you in any kind of danger. I believe you experienced enough that one night, but I understand your need for answers. And while you doona believe you’re essential in this world, you would be wrong.” He turned his head to find her looking at him. “A Druid went to great lengths to wipe your ancestors from existence. Someone else recently tried to do the same. Your line has survived. Whether it was luck, Fate, or the hand of some powerful being, you’re standing here.”
“When you say it like that, it’s a little daunting. I feel like the entire world is looking at me,” she said.
He shifted to face her. “You have shouldered so verra much on your own and stood tall while doing it. Doona let this sway you now.”
“I can’t help it,” she said with a shrug. Then she faced him, dropping her arms to her sides. “Am I insane wanting to call out this person?”
“You want answers.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He blew out a breath and glanced to the side. “I’m no’ sure I’m the right person to ask. I doona want you in any sort of danger, but if I were in your position, I’d go.”
“All this time I’ve known my family was dead, but I’d held out hope. Even the thought of them leaving me behind was better than knowing they were gone forever.”
“You have a responsibility to carry on the line.”
She blinked up at him. “Why? My father was prepared to let the line die with him. Maybe that would be the best thing. Why make anyone else live in seclusion, always hiding and looking over their shoulder?”
“It’s no’ a good life, that’s for sure. But the Clachers were important. You’re important,” he added.
“Not so much,” she replied with a smile. “With Henry and Esther taking the duties my family once had, I mean nothing.”
He closed the small distance between them. “Gemma, there is power in your blood. The proof lay in the fact that someone once tried to erase you from the world.”
“Maybe. I don’t care about that.”
She might not, but he certainly did. He saw the big picture. And perhaps, if he could connect the dots to the Clachers and Dragon Kings, he might help her see it as well.
He reached for her, pulling her against him. His eyes closed when her arms went around him and her cheek lay against his chest. This was where she belonged. In his arms.
Cináed held her tighter. He’d known she was special the moment he saw that photo of her as a child. But getting to know her had shown him she was more than he’d ever expected. The very thing he hadn’t even been thinking of finding—his mate.
She was the one he would love until the end of time. He wanted to tell her, to share how he felt, but he hesitated. She had just opened up to him. To push her now might mean he lost her forever.
“I’ll no’ let any harm come to you,” he vowed.
Her hands rubbed up and down his back. “I know. It’s the only reason I have the courage to go to the isle again.” She lifted her head to look at him. “When it’s all finished, can we return here?”
“We can go anywhere you want.”
“I just want to be with you.”
“Sounds perfect,” he said with a grin.
She returned his smile, but it soon died. “I don’t want to wait. Let’s get it over with.”
He gave a nod and made his way to the chopper as she went back inside to get her bag. Cináed used that time to contact Merrill through their link.
“It’s about time,” Merrill stated irritably. “What’s going on?”
“A lot has happened.”
“Then you best tell me.”
Cináed quickly recounted what had occurred since he and Gemma left the isle yesterday.
“Bloody hell. You’re really going to let her do this?” Merrill asked.
“It’s no’ my life.”
“That’s a load of shite. You know you could stop her. Easily.”
“Aye,” Cináed agreed. “I could. But to what end? She would make her way back here eventually. At least we’ll be here. Then there’s the added benefit of finding out who attacked her and the Skye Druids.”
Merrill snorted loudly. “My bet is on the Light bitch. She’s addled in the head, brother.”
“Without a doubt. But knowledge is power.”
“I’m on my way to the isle. I didna find any spells when I looked yesterday, but I’ll do another sweep anyway.”
Cináed smiled. “Thanks. I’ll join you shortly.”
“You might want to rethink that and stay with her.”
He had a point. Cináed grunted. “I’ll consider it.”
The link severed as Gemma climbed into the helicopter and buckled herself in. Cináed started the engines. In no time they were in the air and headed back to the isle.
Unease ran through him. Things could go so very wrong. But there was also a chance that they could learn something important regarding the Others.
Discovering all the Fae involved was imperative, because if they had those identities, it was just a matter of eliminating them. Whatever Druids were still involved wouldn’t matter without the Fae to bind them together.
Cináed looked over at Gemma. She stared straight ahead, determination in her e
yes and the way she held her head. If anyone could do this, it was her.
And he was going to make sure she succeeded.
Chapter Twenty
The wind seemed colder. Gemma knew it was only in her mind. Or was it? Was it just her imagination that the air around her isle was chillier, as if something sinister had never left the area?
She stood inside the house, waiting. But she didn’t know what for. Corann had said a storm was coming. When she had looked, the sky had been clear, but now it was filled with ominous dark clouds.
A shiver raced down her spine, causing her to wrap her arms around herself. Maybe it was because she stood alone to alert the entity that she was there, but she wished she hadn’t told Cináed to hide now. She would be handling things better if she weren’t by herself.
That caused her to snort loudly. All these years she had declared to herself and anyone who asked that she didn’t need anyone, that she was perfectly capable of dealing with anything on her own.
But being with Cináed showed her the truth.
While she could do things herself, it was better when she had someone she could trust beside her.
Trust. She shook her head, smiling. He’d told her he would gain her trust. And he had. Entirely too easily. Then again, she hadn’t stood a chance because it felt as if she had always known him.
The distant rumble of thunder had her heart quickening. Everything inside her was screaming to run away, to leave and never return. But she had been running for too long. She claimed it was because she liked to move around, but that was a lie.
Fear had ruled her life. She’d gotten too used to the emotion that not only had it become a part of her world, but she needed reminding that it was there.
No longer would she hide away from the world. No longer would she shy away from the memories when they came. She was a new person.
Now she was facing the past and all the secrets it held.
Now she would confront the monster who had destroyed her life.
Now she would become the warrior her ancestors had been—and died as.
Gemma dropped her arms to her sides and walked out of the house she had loved so dearly. She looked up at the sky, her gaze moving from cloud to cloud. “I know you can hear me. You killed my parents and my brother, but you missed me. I’m back to claim my heritage as a Clacher. And I’m ready for you. Bring your worst.”
In response, a gust of wind angrily blew against her. She didn’t move. Her eyes lowered to the water. Cináed and Merrill were there, waiting and watching to keep her safe. She hadn’t asked if they were in their true forms or not. Now she wished she had.
Just as she wished she had asked Cináed what color his dragon was.
Gemma still couldn’t believe he was a Dragon King. She wanted to see him, the real Cináed. Not that his human form wasn’t mouthwateringly gorgeous. But to see him...yeah, that was going to be amazing.
She was so lost in thoughts of Cináed that the pelting of rain on her face came as a shock. Her gaze lifted to see one of the large black clouds settled right over her.
“There was a storm yesterday,” she told herself. “This means nothing.”
Although she had just challenged the being who’d killed her family. She knew next to nothing about magic, but something had told her to verbalize her defiance.
The water around the isle grew choppier. The waves white-capped as they hurtled toward land, slamming into the rocks and onto the beach. It was so similar to the night her family vanished that she nearly let the fear choke her.
But Gemma stood strong. She lifted her chin as she thought about the ancient line she came from. A line of honorable, respected people.
“I’m a Clacher,” she told herself, grasping for any amount of courage she could find. “I come from an ancient line who kept order within the Druids. Twice we have been targeted for eradication. And twice we’ve survived. The strength of my ancestors runs through my veins. And they stand beside me.”
The tips of her fingers began to tingle. And even more oddly, she could have sworn that she wasn’t alone, that her forebears were, indeed, with her.
While the wind whipped the water that went from a drizzle to rain in all directions, Gemma stood firm. She wasn’t going to run inside and cower. If it was her day to die, then she would do it with dignity.
But if it was her day to fight, then she was going to give whatever came for her hell.
Out of nowhere, a man appeared to her left. His short silver hair had barely any black left in it. But it was the flashing red eyes that let her know she was facing a Dark Fae.
He was a handsome specimen, but he was nothing compared to Cináed. So when the Dark smiled at her, she just stared at him. His head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer.
“Trying to fight the attraction, sweetheart? It won’t work.”
She frowned at the sound of his Irish accent. It sounded rough and rudimentary to her ears. Gemma didn’t bother to respond. He didn’t look like someone who would pay attention to what she said anyway.
“Go ahead and take off your clothes,” he ordered.
Her brow quirked. “I’ll pass.”
That stopped him in his tracks. He looked her up and down. “You don’t want me?”
“I can see that has shocked you.”
Red eyes slowly moved around the area. “You’re not Fae. That means you....” His gaze snapped to her face. “You’ve been with a Dragon King.”
She smiled and shrugged. “Guilty.”
“Where is he?”
Gemma spread her arms wide. “Not here.”
“No way he’d leave you to me.”
She kept waiting for that evil feeling to assault her again, but she felt nothing but disgust at this individual. There was no doubt he was wicked, but it wasn’t the same maliciousness that she’d felt that night.
He sneered at her. “You have to die. I was going to have some fun with it, but you’ve ruined that.”
“So sorry to disappoint. You’ll forgive me if I don’t care about your plans. I have some of my own.”
“You?” he said with a laugh. “What can a measly human do to me?”
Gemma cocked her head at him. “Was it you all those years ago? Were you the one who did it?”
“Did what?” he asked angrily. “This is the first time I’ve been on this isle.”
Just as she thought. “Then go back to whoever sent you and tell them to come themselves. I’ll be waiting.”
“It doesn’t work that way, sweetheart.” He smiled then. “Trust me. You’d rather me kill you.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. I came here to confront the one who murdered my family.”
The Dark threw back his head and laughed. “You’re entertaining if nothing else.”
Gemma lifted her chin. She knew nothing about fighting. In fact, she hadn’t thought about what she was going to do to whoever showed up. Obviously, she should’ve thought this through better.
“You don’t scare me. I’m a Clacher,” she stated.
The Dark held out his hand as an iridescent orb appeared. At her words, he stilled, a deep frown forming. “What did you say?”
“I’m Gemma Clacher.” The fact the Fae hesitated made her take a step toward him. “What does that name mean to you?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw something walking toward her out of the rain. She glanced toward the figure to see it was Cináed. The Dark was too focused on her to realize they were no longer alone.
“I’d like to know the answer myself,” Cináed said when he reached them.
The Dark’s head jerked toward Cináed. “I knew you wouldn’t leave the female after you’d claimed her.”
“Answer her,” Cináed demanded.
The Fae laughed as he looked between them. “I don’t think so.”
Gemma opened her mouth, but before she got any words out, Cináed had the Dark on his back. The orb rolled from the Fae’s hands, singeing the g
round and turning it black while wisps of smoke rose from it with every drop of rain.
Cináed’s hand was around the Dark’s throat squeezing. And the look of retribution that flashed in Cináed’s eyes made her heart skip a beat.
She’d seen the tender side of him, the sweet side, and even the determined side. This was another aspect that she hadn’t witnessed before. But she liked it.
A lot.
This strength and power was why Cináed was a Dragon King. He didn’t show it all the time, but it was always there, ready and waiting to take on any threat.
Gemma took a few quick steps back when Cináed and the Dark began to fight. They rolled on the ground, each getting in hits, and both coming dangerously close to the orb. But all that changed in an instant when the Fae produced another bubble and slammed it into Cináed’s chest.
She gasped when Cináed’s shirt and skin began to hiss as if burned. He bared his teeth, his jaw clenching before he knocked the Fae’s hand away. And that’s when she saw the burn. It went all the way through his muscle to bone. The pain must be unbearable, and yet Cináed didn’t pause for a moment.
He merely grasped the Dark’s head and twisted. The crack of bone was loud, even over the rain.
Gemma stared at the Dark, waiting to see if he would rise. Cináed climbed to his feet and started toward her. He got two steps before he stopped and swiveled his head to the side.
“Get ready,” he warned her.
She blinked through the rain, trying to see what he saw. “For what?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he held his hand over the orb that remained. It lifted in the air, coming towards his palm. Just before it touched him, he reared his hand back and sent it flying.
The strangled cry of pain reached them a second later. In the next heartbeat, two more Dark appeared.
Cináed motioned her behind him. She did as he requested, even as she glanced at his wound. If that’s what the bubble could do to him, she needed to make certain one never touched her.
Her mind stopped when the Fae reached Cináed and the three were engaged in hand-to-hand combat. But it was more than punches and elbows. There was magic involved, making things even more difficult.