Heart Of A Highland Warrior

by Anita Clenney

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to find her.”

  Tavis frowned. Was she reading his mind again?

  “I’m going to help them later,” Ronan said. He touched Bree’s stomach again, clapped Tavis on the shoulder, and took off.

  “You coming in?” Bree asked.

  “Soon.” It was nice having people concerned about him. It was almost a bloody miracle. But he needed more time alone. When she had left, he looked at the grave again for several minutes, trying to picture his father’s face as it had been in life, not the last time he’d seen it in death. “I didn’t get to tell you that Liam’s death wasn’t your fault,” Tavis said, looking at the ground where his father lay. “The demon came to kill Liam. He must have found out that Liam would be assigned to him.”

  Tavis heard someone else approach from outside the graveyard. Bloody hell!

  “Would you like to know the demon’s name?”

  Tavis turned and saw Lance, the skinny guard, standing outside the graveyard fence. In spite of his weakness, Tavis leapt the fence and had his hands around Lance’s throat before he could run. He could have used his talisman, but he wanted to feel the life drain from the worm’s skinny body.

  “Stop, please,” Lance squeaked. “I want to help you.”

  Tavis loosened his grip. “Help me? You tortured me.”

  “It was the other guard,” Lance said. “Tristol told us to test you, but it wasn’t me who tortured you.”

  “You were there, helping.”

  “I had no choice. Voltar sent me to spy on Tristol. If I had refused, he would have killed me.”

  Tavis kept his hands around Lance’s throat, but he stopped choking him. There was some truth to what Lance was saying. It was the fat guard who had done all the torturing. “You’re working with Voltar?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why was Voltar spying on Tristol?”

  “He knew Tristol had you. He’s been waiting for you for over a century. He knew you were in the time vault, but he didn’t know where it was hidden.”

  Tavis dropped his hands but kept a close eye on Lance. “Why was he waiting for me?”

  “He said you’re supposed to destroy him. He read it in a book. Some old prophesy or something.”

  The Book of Battles. So Voltar knew Tavis was assigned to destroy him. Or had been at one time. There went the element of surprise. Did he also know Tavis had the book? If the demons got their hands on it, found out which warriors were assigned, they could destroy the clan.

  “Voltar is working against Tristol?”

  “Yes. They hate each other,” Lance said.

  “I thought the League worked together.”

  “When it suits them. But Voltar and Tristol want each other dead, and I’m trapped in the middle.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I’ve been with Voltar for over two hundred years, but I’ve outlived my usefulness. If Voltar is right and you’re the one who was prophesied to destroy him, then it would be in my best interest to help you achieve that.”

  “Why don’t you kill him yourself?”

  “Do you know how powerful and unstable he is? He’s been the force behind some of the worst tragedies humankind has seen. Just name the major world battles, and Voltar was behind it. This century alone he’s killed millions.”

  “This century?” While Tavis was safe in a time vault. Still, he felt a stir of memories, a battle, and a man filled with hatred, but they weren’t clear.

  “I forgot. You slept through it all.”

  “So you want me to kill Voltar for you?” Arrogant little worm. Who did he think he was?

  “If you kill him, I’ll disappear, never see you again. Never bother you again.”

  “What’s to stop me from killing you and Voltar?”

  “I know something else you don’t…besides who killed Liam. I know where Anna is.”

  Anna had been running for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. She knew Voltar was behind her. But he was big, and his body size slowed him down. Her legs were burning, but she couldn’t stop. She had to make sure Tavis was safe.

  She leaned against a tree and caught her breath. At this rate, she’d never survive. It was embarrassing, but she was injured. She’d considered circling around to her car, but her Honda rental would never outrun Voltar’s badass motorcycle. She started running again, and after a few yards, she burst out of the trees.

  An old camper sat forlornly in an overgrown camping space. The campground behind Bree’s house had been here for a long time. According to Bree, campers had occasionally gotten lost and showed up at Bree’s grandmother’s house. Now they knew the lost campers were actually warriors and Seekers sent to look for the missing key to Faelan’s time vault. There weren’t many campers here now. Anna stretched out a burning thigh and peered in the windows of a camper that wasn’t so rusty. She couldn’t go on any longer without resting, so she picked the lock and went inside. If Voltar caught her, she’d blast him with her talisman and then die. At least he would be weakened. Whoever was assigned could finish Voltar off. Tavis would be safe.

  He was all she’d thought about since she’d met him. His face, his bruised but magnificent body, his loneliness. It’s like he’d wiggled into her brain until there was nothing but Tavis in there. She sat down on an outdated flower-print sofa and closed her eyes. Just a minute. She didn’t know how far Voltar was behind her, or if she’d even been successful. She hadn’t heard him for a while.

  She was sitting there in a ratty old camper when Michael the Archangel appeared. Usually he came in dreams. This time she was awake. If being dead on her feet was awake. Power and energy radiated off him, so strong she had to shield her eyes. He was so glorious she would have bowed before him if she could have moved. As it was, she was frozen in awe.

  “Voltar must be stopped. It is time. Tavis needs you.” And just like that, Michael left, and Anna was sitting on the dingy couch with her mouth hanging open.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  WAIT,” SHE YELLED, then closed her mouth. She had questions, lots of them, but no one ordered Michael around—except one person, who was not really a person but more of an entity. So she continued sitting there as the shock faded. Had Michael just assigned her to destroy Voltar? She’d killed or suspended hundreds of demons. It was her job, her life. One she’d planned on doing until the day she died. But an ancient demon?

  Voltar. Where was he? What if he’d doubled back? She jumped up and went to the door, reenergized. She ran through the woods, not so quiet this time. If Voltar was still here, she would use her talisman. She was weak, but if he was assigned to her, she might have a chance. She couldn’t let him find Tavis. She had just reached the graveyard when she felt something behind her. She turned and saw something tall. Not Michael. This was dark. A black mist materialized in front of her. “What have you done?” The voice was cold, deadly, and oddly beautiful. Almost as beautiful as his face. Tristol.

  Anna was too frightened to speak. Then a surge of adrenaline jerked her into action. She sprang from the balls of her feet with a quick lunge, leapt over the graveyard gate. She gave Tristol a forced look of defiance and felt the pull of something so strong she quickly looked away.

  “Anna. Do you think a fence and some rotted bones can stop me?” She looked at him again. His eyes flashed, and he put a hand on the gate. Anna felt her heart sink. Tristol put an elegantly booted foot inside the graveyard, and he smiled, but there was anger seething underneath. Anna took a step backward. Tristol took a step forward.

  What the hell? What was he? Demons couldn’t step on holy ground. That was one of the things warriors had relied on since time began. And she couldn’t use her talisman on an unassigned ancient demon. That would kill her. Tristol was the most powerful demon in this dimension. She had to lead him away from here, or he would find Tavi
s, kill him, or take him back to the fortress and torture him again. My God, she thought. First Voltar, and now Tristol.

  He moved toward her so fast she could hardly see him. He stood in front of her, his face so beautiful she felt as if she were melting.

  Anna looked down at the pale hand holding her talisman. A demon couldn’t touch a warrior’s talisman without being burned. “What are you?”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. Still, she felt as if she were melting again. “Not what you think. What have you done with my fortress?”

  “Your fortress?”

  “My fortress. It’s gone.”

  “I didn’t take it.” Take it? What was he saying? What was she saying? No one could take a fortress. “It’s cloaked. Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.”

  He leaned closer until only a few inches separated them. “I’m not looking in the wrong place.”

  “I swear. I didn’t take it.” This can’t be happening. “How can someone move a fortress? Fortresses don’t move.”

  Tristol frowned at her. “This one does.”

  “That’s imposs—” Before she’d finished the word, Tristol grabbed her, and she was moving through the woods at warp speed.

  She screamed and held on to the only thing she could. Tristol. After what seemed like seconds, they came to a sudden stop. She and Tristol were close as lovers, his arms around her waist and hers locked around him like chains. They were in the woods. She recognized the fence. The one she’d climbed to get inside the fortress. “Oh my God. How did you do that?”

  Tristol grabbed her again, and they moved over the fence. Over. Without jumping. The fortress wasn’t there. “You see. No fortress.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Please stop saying that.” Tristol turned to Anna, a thoughtful look on his face. “Though he would have that kind of power.”

  “You think God stole your fortress?” This must be a dream, and she was still in the dungeon in some drug-induced state.

  “Unless you did it. Or Faelan.”

  “I haven’t seen Faelan for days, but I can assure you I didn’t do it. Neither did Tavis. He could barely move after you tortured him.”

  Tristol went so still it seemed as if time stopped. “Tavis?”

  “Tavis, the prisoner you were torturing.”

  Tristol’s eyes started to redden. Anna tried to step back, but Tristol grabbed her talisman again. Why wasn’t it burning him?

  “You mean Faelan?”

  Anna swallowed, remembering what the blond vampire had said about not telling Tristol the truth, but then she thought that if she wasn’t hallucinating or dreaming, she would probably be dead any minute. She was in the presence of the most powerful demon on earth. A demon who wasn’t affected by her talisman. “Your vampire didn’t tell you? The blond one?”

  Tristol’s eyes were fiery red now, making him terrifying, and yet still beautiful. “Faelan’s brother is dead. He’s been dead for generations.”

  Anna was afraid to speak or move. She’d already said too much by giving Tavis’s name.

  Tristol’s eyes returned to normal, and he continued to study her until she felt as if all her insides had mushed together. “I had Tavis, not Faelan. And Joquard knew.”

  A sound came from Tristol then. Anna couldn’t explain it. A simmering, tinkling, seething sound, like a million pieces of glass breaking as hot metal poured over them.

  “Where is Tavis, then?” Tristol asked. His body seemed to be moving, as if he wasn’t solid.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I can make you tell me.”

  “Maybe Voltar has him,” she said, trying to deflect. “He said he’d been waiting for him for a long time.”

  “You saw Voltar? Where?”

  “In your fortress. He was the one who killed all the vampires.”

  Tristol’s eyes started turning red again. “My vampires are dead.”

  Anna did back up then. Anger and heat rose from Tristol like an oven. He made a hissing sound, and she closed her eyes, waiting to die.

  “Where is he?”

  Anna cracked one eye, surprised she was still alive. “Tavis?”

  “No! Where is Voltar?”

  “He was chasing me. I think I lost him. I don’t know where he is. If I did, I would kill him.”

  “That’s intriguing. I had other plans for you, but like you, I want Voltar removed. I have an idea.” He darted at her again, and then they were flying. She passed out when they streaked past an airplane.

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Tavis asked.

  Lance flipped something through the air. Tavis’s hand snaked out to catch it, his heart thudding even before he felt the metal in his hand. Anna’s hairpin. “You really know where she is?”

  “I do, but I’m not telling until you’ve helped me. It’s my insurance policy.”

  “And the demon who killed Liam?”

  “I’ll tell you that after Voltar is dead. What do you say? Can we strike a bargain?”

  What Tavis would like to strike was Lance’s skull. “How do I know this isn’t a trap laid by Voltar? Or Tristol?” And his damned breeding plan.

  “That’s a risk you’ll have to take.”

  “You’re an arrogant little bastard.”

  “An arrogant little bastard who knows where to find what you’re looking for. You’ll have to come alone.”

  A trap, likely, but what choice did he have? He had to find Anna, and he would give his arm to know who killed Liam. “I have to do something first.” The least he could do was leave a message so Faelan would know Tavis had left of his own accord.

  “I’ll be waiting on the other side of the woods,” Lance said, pointing in the direction where Tavis and Ian had found Faelan’s time vault buried. “I have a car there. But hurry. Voltar is getting restless. I’m afraid he’ll kill her soon.”

  Tavis hurried across the yard into the house. Ronan was in the kitchen standing in front of a large white box with food inside. He removed a blue cylinder and pulled the top. It hissed.

  “Pepsi?” he asked, taking a large drink.

  Tavis shook his head. “Have you seen Faelan?”

  Ronan snorted. “He and Bree are in the bedroom. Lucky bastard.”

  Was he hankering after Faelan’s wife? She was a bonny lass. More than bonny. There was something compelling about her.

  “Aye. Have you a piece of paper and a quill?”

  Ronan frowned. “There’s a notepad there on the counter.” He nodded toward a small square. “There’s a pen beside it.” Tavis picked it up and saw sheets of paper bound together like a book. A quill, different than the ones he’d seen, lay beside it.

  “Looks like you’re leaving someone a note,” Ronan said. “You going somewhere?”

  “Just writing something down.” He had to go alone, or Lance wouldn’t take Tavis to Anna. “I’ll see you soon. I think I’ll rest.”

  “Right.”

  Tavis carried the paper down the hall. He heard quiet whispers inside and a woman’s laugh. He slipped the note under Faelan’s door and turned to go. He would contact Faelan as soon as he found Anna. How, he didn’t know. This wasn’t the same place he’d left. He slipped quietly through the house and outside.

  “Nice rest?”

  “Bloody hell!” Tavis turned and saw Ronan on the porch.

  “You’re going to run out on your brother before he’s even welcomed you home?”

  “There’s no time to wait. I have to go now.”

  “What’s so urgent?”

  Tavis gritted his teeth, his jaw still sore from the beatings. “Anna. The guard who kept us imprisoned is waiting in the woods. He’s going to lead me to her.”

  “Why would he do that?” Ronan asked.

  “Voltar int
ends to kill him soon, and he’d rather I killed Voltar first.”

  “You can’t kill Voltar. Are you crazy?”

  “He’s my demon. He was assigned to me.”

  “Hell. Does Faelan know?”

  “I told him.”

  “Assigned or not, you’re not going alone,” Ronan said.

  “The guard won’t cooperate if there’s anyone else. I have to risk it.”

  “You’ve got the hots for her, haven’t you?”

  Tavis didn’t understand Ronan’s words, but he understood the grin. “I owe her a debt.”

  “Go with the guard. I’ll follow. I assume he’s got a car.”

  “You can’t let him see you.”

  “I won’t. I’ll hang back. Come on. We’ll need water and food.” They walked inside, and Ronan opened the large white box again and took out two clear bottles. “Water,” he said, handing one of them to Tavis.

  It felt like the bottles in the house where Angus had taken him and the ones in Faelan’s bathroom.

  “Plastic,” Ronan said. “I don’t think they had it in your time. Makes things a hell of a lot easier. And if this guard’s right about Anna, she may need food and water.” He picked up two strange-looking satchels from a table along the wall. He put one of the bottles of water inside. “Here, strap this on.” He demonstrated by hooking one of the satchels over both shoulders. “It’s like a big sporran for your back.”

  Ronan waited inside the house while Tavis went ahead to meet Lance. He was just out of sight of the house when a figure materialized from the trees. “Where’s your car?” Tavis asked. But it wasn’t Lance. It was the quiet warrior with long hair. Shane. “Damnation. Is everyone following me?”

  “I wasn’t following you,” Shane said. “Duncan and I were patrolling. I heard something and came to check it out.”

  He must have heard Lance. “I’ll check it out. You can go back.”

  “I don’t think so,” Shane said.

  Tavis wanted to punch a tree. “I have something to do, and I need to do it alone.”

  Shane shook his head. “Faelan won’t be happy if I let you leave alone.”