‘Sean! Stop! Stop!’
He blinked and the words vanished and he found himself looking into the frantic dark eyes of Lydia. Suddenly exhausted, he dropped to his knees and looked around. And his heart petrified. Megan MacGregor lay sprawled beside the two gasping Campbells. Her body utterly still.
Chapter 66
Sean could not stand — so he crawled. His mouth opened to call her name but he was too spent. It took every ounce of his energy to move. One limb at a time. He felt as if he were crossing a vast, endless plain.
Finally he reached her. With a tremulous hand he touched her pale cheek. ‘Megan.’ It was barely a whisper. He shook her shoulder.
Lydia crouched anxiously beside her. She put her fingers to Megan’s neck. Sean waited in an agony of anxiety. One potato. Two potatoes. Three potatoes. Time ticked by in slow motion. Six potatoes. Seven potatoes.
Lydia let out a whistle of air. ‘She’s alive. I feel her pulse.’
Sean did not even try to hold back the sob of relief. He curled over and pressed his ear to her chest. His own pulse pounded like a well-oiled piston. And then he heard it. Lub. Dub. And then an eternity. And then lub. Dub.
‘Do I have a heart then?’
Sean sat up so fast his head spun. Megan grinned. He could have wrung her neck. Instead he gathered her in his arms and cradled her to his chest. And he just held her tight. There were no words to describe his relief.
Finally she wriggled and he relaxed his hold. A little. He looked down into her impish face. ‘Megan, oh my God, I’m so sorry. I damn near killed you.’
She lifted her head a little to look at him and pursed her lips. ‘So you did.’ She relaxed back again and smiled. ‘Wicked!’
It was not the response Sean had expected. If he’d been in her shoes he’d have been less than impressed. But then he chuckled and dropped a kiss on her nose. This was Megan MacGregor and a man had to expect the unexpected.
‘Lemme go.’
Reluctantly he relinquished his hold. She wiggled free and sat up. He watched her eyes swivel to the Campbells before she let out a long hiss. Sean, terrified she was going to carry on where she’d left off, took a grip of her wrist. ‘Don’t!’
She looked truly outraged. ‘You mad? Look at them — they’re practically gift wrapped!’
Sean had to hide his amusement. Megan’s assessment of the two Campbells was pretty fitting. But he shook his head. ‘Leave them. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.’
He could see Megan struggling with this concept. She blinked and looked at the sorry pair who were just starting to stir. Then looked back at him. ‘Of course it’s not a fair fight. Did they fight fair?’
Sean had to admit she had him there. ‘No. They don’t fight fair. But, if you let them go they will be beholden to you. In your debt. A matter of honour.’
Megan blew a loud raspberry. ‘What a load of bollocks. These are Campbells, they don’t have any honour.’
Sean shrugged. ‘Maybe. Maybe not. But if you finish them off now you’ll never know, will you?’
She scowled. ‘If I don’t finish them off they’ll probably come back and finish me.’
Sean laughed. ‘You really think so?’
She grinned. ‘No. Not really. I am pretty fabulous.’ She stood up and looked down at him. ‘Besides. Now I got you. You know, you are really starting to get interesting.’
Sean shook his head. Interesting was not how he’d put it. Movement caught his eye. He looked at the two Campbells who were on their feet with a less than friendly air about them.
Sean winced at the angry purple bruising about their necks. ‘Get out,’ he said.
Callum Campbell looked at him and bared his teeth. ‘We have honour. I will not touch a hair on your head. Or the dirty lycan.’
Sean felt Megan stiffen beside him, but he put a warning hand on her arm and she settled.
The pair held his gaze for a few seconds and then eyeballed Megan, Lydia and Nancy by turn. Sean watched silently as they took The Count from his stable and loaded him on the truck. Minutes later they were gone.
Despite Callum’s words, Sean was deeply uneasy. To him, their words had resonated with malice.
‘Cup of tea?’ said Nancy cheerfully.
‘Whisky?’ said Megan.
Sean opened his mouth to protest. But then thought better of it. She deserved a nip. They all did. He nodded and followed them back inside.
Chapter 67
Megan poured a healthy splosh of whisky into her tea and sniffed it appreciatively. She wished she had a pipe but settled for a seat beside Sean. The two women sat opposite and Megan observed them curiously. Witches. Interesting.
Sean took a slug of tea and put down his mug. ‘Megan, this is Nancy and this is Lydia. Good friends of mine.’
Megan instinctively took to Nancy. While she was pretty in a granny kind of way, she was way too old to be of interest to Sean. Lydia, however, was undeniably attractive. Megan eyed her perfectly proportioned nose with irritation. ‘Hi,’ she said.
They both smiled and said hello back.
Nancy turned her merry eyes on Sean. ‘That went well!’
Sean smiled ruefully. ‘You think?’
Nancy nodded her head. ‘Oh yes. We’re all alive. An excellent outcome.’
Megan giggled.
Sean looked grim. ‘I nearly killed Megan. And them.’
Megan smiled at him. ‘It’s so cool.’
Sean glared at her. ‘Cool! You kidding? I’m out of control. What if it happens again? What if next time I can’t stop or there’s no one around to intervene?’
Megan realised that he was deeply disturbed. ‘Sean, you didn’t do it on purpose. No one blames you.’
Lydia lifted a black raven’s wing of eyebrow. ‘The Campbells might.’
Megan dismissed the point. The Campbells didn’t count.
Nancy, perhaps sensing a row, took the initiative. ‘Sean, I understand your concerns but you’ve forgotten something.’
He frowned. ‘I have? What?’
Nancy tapped the table.
Megan looked down and realised the witch was actually touching what looked like a map. She bent forward to get a closer look. Make that an old map. Its sepia corners curled and the place names were written in a beautiful copperplate. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s an old map that I found in the archives at work,’ said Lydia.
Sean looked at her. ‘Where do you work?’
Lydia looked at him and then at the map. ‘The library. This,’ she said, pointing to the middle of the map, ‘is Dunadd.’
Dunadd. Megan knew it. She’d been there, of course, drawn by a natural curiosity to see for herself the place her grandad talked about with so much passion. It was an ancient place still touched by the Olde world. The Olde magic.
Megan looked at Sean and she realised that her grandfather was right. A mortal couldn’t speak the old tongue. And for the first time in her life, Megan was forced to acknowledge that much of the folklore and mythology she had scoffed at was, in actual fact, real. A fact proven by the living, breathing man that she loved so much. Dammit. She hated it when Grandad was right.
She tuned back in to what Lydia was saying, even though most of it was only too familiar.
‘Dunadd,’ said Lydia softly, ‘is the ancient home of the Gaels.’ She looked around. ‘Has anyone been to Kil Martin?’
Sean shook his head but Nancy and Megan nodded. Lydia addressed Sean. ‘Dunadd was the fortress of Dal Riata, home of the Gaels. It is set upon a rock in the centre of the flat lands. And on it is a stone in which a footprint is carved.’
Sean took in a hiss of breath. ‘I wonder…I lie at the feet of a foot…’
Nancy smiled. ‘That’s right, Sean. It must have something to do with Dunadd.’
‘It is the place that the Chieftains ruled from. A royal residence if you must. It is said that the site was part of a ceremony in which the Kings were married to the land.’
Megan felt a memory stir in her mind as Lydia told the story. A ripple of something like awe ran through her. ‘My grandfather says that Dunadd was home to our ancestors. He says that we, the werewolves and vampyres, can trace our bloodlines back to the Gaels, the Picts and the Irish kings. And that once we were one people who called themselves The Children Of The Mist.’ She paused to assess how the others were taking her words. Reassured that everyone seemed interested, at the least, she continued. ‘And Grandad says that some of our ancestors were Gods.’
Megan had never shared this with anyone before. She looked to Sean and dived into the deep blue ocean of his eyes and, for the first time, she could almost believe that it was true.
Chapter 68
Sean was rocked. Every time he seemed about to catch up with events, something else cropped up. This time an ancient fort that had belonged to a people who’d been the ancestors of Gods.
Funny thing was, he didn’t doubt a word of it. The truth shone out of Megan’s whisky eyes. And why would she make such a thing up, anyway? She was, after all, a werewolf. How curious that the Campbells, who she hated with a passion, were actually blood relatives of a sort. Strange. But then, everything was bloody strange. He sagged back in his chair.
Megan leaned towards him. ‘What did you mean, you know, that stuff about feet and…a foot?’
Sean had forgotten that Megan didn’t know. He pulled himself together and tried to pick up all the threads of what felt like a complicated weave of fabric. He looked at Lydia. ‘Perhaps you would be best placed to explain.’ He laughed. ‘I’m not sure if I’ve got my head around it all myself.’
Lydia nodded gravely. ‘Of course. Megan, you know we are witches?’
Megan nodded.
‘Well, our history is bound with your own. We too can trace our lineage back to the beginning. We are the descendants of the Druids. And, it is said, a few are the sons and daughters of not just Amergin, but of Wicca herself. Merlin was one such son.’ She paused and looked at Sean. ‘And so are you.’
Sean shook his head. ‘But Merlin’s a myth!’
Megan butted in. ‘That’s what you are meant to believe. I know for a fact that our story has been deliberately written as myth, to keep it secret. There is a Mythmaker whose job it has been through time to create these stories.’
Nancy looked surprised. ‘I’ve never heard that, although it makes sense.’
Sean was glad someone had a grasp on reality. Was it possible he was a descendant of Merlin? It was just too much to take in. And besides, there were more pressing issues.
He turned to Megan. ‘We know that the vampyres believe that on this property there lies the key to a powerful weapon. It’s why Ginny has been here. She’s been trying to find out where it is.’
Megan was silent, her eyes moving around the table. He could sense her unease. ‘Do you know where it is?’ she said finally.
Sean nodded. ‘Yes. It’s a quilt on which the message you heard was written. I lie at the feet of a foot. It’s upstairs on Sarah’s bed.’
‘Can I see?’
Sean nodded and led Megan up the stairs and into the bedroom.
Megan stared at the quilt. She looked at it for a long while. ‘I have never seen the Olde language written before.’ There was a hint of reverential awe in her voice.
‘Do you speak the Olde language, Megan?’
‘A little. Like the song of the trees that you heard. The one that gentles the horses. And a few words. Grandad speaks it better, as does Rory Wallace.’
‘Rory Wallace.’
‘The horseman with the travellers.’
And, of course, it made perfect sense.
Megan sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. A small smile played around her lips. Her eyes glinted with mischief. She reached out and took his hand. ‘He wants to marry me, does Rory Wallace.’
Sean was momentarily speechless. Marry Megan? What a bloody nerve!
Chapter 69
Megan patted herself on the back for a job well done. Sean’s face was a picture. A delightful mixture of outrage, disbelief and a large lick of possessive jealousy. Brilliant.
She jumped off the bed and slid past him but his hand snaked out and caught her around the waist. She did not even pretend to resist.
His eyes narrowed as he observed her closely. ‘Are you going to marry him then?’
She shrugged. ‘I might. Unless I get a better offer.’
‘You’re too young to be married.’
She reared back in indignation. ‘I think that’s for me to decide.’
He closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right.’
Megan chuckled to herself. ‘That’s all right. I forgive you.’ She waited, hoping he’d open the subject up. But she was disappointed. Still, the seed had been planted. Time should do the trick. But she felt a stirring of angst. Time was running out. Fast.
He pulled her close and, secure in his arms, she allowed herself to relax. He felt good against her. She could feel his heart accelerate as he responded to her heat. His arms tightened and he pulled her hard against him. He smelled good. Horses, hay and Sean. She tilted her head to allow his questing lips to find hers.
Finally he let her go. ‘Better go back down. The others will wonder what we’re up to.’
Back downstairs they found Nancy and Lydia tidying up the kitchen. They joined Megan and Sean at the table.
Sean sighed. It was the sound of a man quite worn out. Megan tried to feel bad about exploiting him when he was so vulnerable. But failed miserably. Sometimes one just had to prioritise. Besides, joining with her was the best thing for him. He just didn’t know it yet.
‘So, what’s next?’ he said.
Nancy glanced at Lydia who nodded. ‘We’ve just been discussing that exact thing. While we know that the answers lie on or around Dunadd fort, we think it would be wise to wait until you have a handle on your magical powers before we explore this any further.’
Megan was all ears. Magic! Sweet!
Sean looked anxious. ‘I agree. But I just don’t have a clue.’ He stopped and looked at the two witches. ‘How do you two control your magic?’
‘Well,’ said Nancy, ‘we use a combination of potions, spells and incantations.’
Megan couldn’t help herself. ‘Do you have a wand?’
Lydia laughed. ‘No. Wands aren’t magic.’
Megan felt ripped off.
Lydia hadn’t finished, however. ‘Wands are a channel though. A funnel. Perhaps tool is the better word.’
Sean leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. ‘How so?’
Nancy stepped in. ‘Well, strong magic needs a cipher. A manageable outlet that the sorcerer can bend to his or her will. Traditionally wands were used because of the magical properties of trees. Wood is a wonderful conductor of magic. It’s why it doesn’t conduct electricity. Nature loves her balance!’
Sean looked disappointed. ‘Well, where can I get a wand?’
Lydia shook her head. ‘I don’t know. The few I’ve seen have been family heirlooms, passed on to each generation. Crystal orbs are the same.’
‘Tarot cards work too,’ said Lydia.
Megan was riveted. It occurred to her that if she knew the whereabouts of a wand she could nick one, no worries. She decided to keep this morsel to herself though; Sean was utterly boring on the subject.
Sean’s fingers drummed impatiently on the table. Megan could hear the cogs of his mind turning. He sighed. ‘It’s all incredibly interesting, but it doesn’t help me much.’
The room was silent. Then Lydia stirred. ‘What about the acorn?’
Megan looked up. ‘What acorn?’
Sean answered her by digging around in his back pocket and carefully placing an acorn on the table.
Megan looked at it. It looked kind of ordinary.
‘I was given this acorn by an old oak tree in the wilds,’ said Sean. ‘But I don’t know what to do with it.’
Chapter 70
Cordelia Campbell stood on the mountain and looked down into the valley below at Sean Duncan’s house. Her mind writhed with humiliation. Rage ate at her belly like rust on iron. She was consumed with the idea of revenge. While she would honour her promise not to harm the lycan and the warlock she would find a way to break them.
She knew she had lost face in front of Callum. And it was unbearable. Sean Duncan had openly spurned her and made no secret of his preference for the lycan bitch. How was that possible when the pure blood of her race flowed through her veins, untainted and clean? The dog would pay. She just had to find a way.
Callum thought he had it all wrapped up. But it wasn’t enough. She wouldn’t be happy until she had blood on her hands. MacGregor blood.
She shivered and pulled her hood up. It started to drizzle with rain and soon she was wreathed in mist. But she did not move. She would wait. An opportunity would present itself.
While she might be bound by a promise, there was someone she knew well who wasn’t. Someone who hated the lycan bitch at least as much as she did. Calix Campbell. It wouldn’t take much to get him on side. Perhaps her charms would work on him where they had failed with Callum.
Her heart contracted with pain. Just thinking about him was like sticking a splinter into an open sore. It was what really rankled. The few hours she’d spent in the hunting lodge with Callum had been mind-blowing. But he had dismissed her like she was hired help and looked straight through her ever since. Like it had never happened.
But worse still, she found she desired him no less. Indeed, it was as if he’d lit a fire that only he could quench. And now he had witnessed the lycan best her in a fair fight, and Sean shrug her off like it was she who was unclean. It was unbearable.
Raindrops dripped off her hair and meandered down her face but she barely noticed. Her cunning mind was in overdrive. A plan shimmered invitingly. The more she probed it the better it felt.
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