by Donna Grant
Jason sighed dramatically, and Mindy suddenly bent at the waist, choking and gasping for air after Jason lifted his magic.
“Too bad,” Aisley mumbled.
When she looked at Mindy, it was to find Ronnie watching her. Aisley lifted a shoulder in a shrug, and went back to leaning in the corner.
Ronnie wasn’t sure what to make of the drough in the corner. There was animosity between her and Mindy that seemed to go deep.
Even if Ronnie’s eyes were closed, she’d know the sound of the drough’s voice. It was the one who had stopped Dale from taking Larena’s head. But it was also the voice that belonged to the person responsible for shooting Larena with the X90.
Was Larena dead? And if the drough was going to kill Larena anyway, why not have Dale take her head?
“I apologize,” Jason said.
Ronnie swiveled her head to him. He hadn’t so much as twitched from his position other than raising a hand. Mindy now glared at Ronnie as she did the drough.
“I’d think as leader you’d have better control of your … team,” Ronnie said.
Jason smiled. “They get a wee bit heated at times, but I control them.”
“So I see. Is this how you’ll control the world?”
“Of course.”
Ronnie was careful not to hit her injured arm as she lowered herself back to the couch. “You’re only one man. How do you figure to rule the entire world? You can’t be everywhere at once.”
“My faithful companions, of course.”
“Of course.” Ronnie knew she was pushing her luck, but the longer she put off whatever he wanted the better. “Tell me, how well do you think your lover will do keeping everyone in line? She likes to hurt people. I can see it in her eyes.”
“She willna be ruling anyone,” Jason said.
Mindy whirled around to him. “What? That’s not what you promised me!”
“I promised you’d have a position of power, my sweet. I never said what that position was,” Jason said calmly.
Ronnie tsked. “Should’ve gotten it in writing, Mindy.”
Mindy looked from Ronnie to Jason. “You know I’m loyal, Jason. Why are you doing this to me?”
It was a dangerous game Ronnie played, and by the anger burning in Jason’s eyes, she’d all but crossed a boundary.
Jason pushed off from his desk and walked slowly to Mindy. He cupped her face in his hands and said, “Because you, darling, I was going to give the position of Punisher.”
“What?” Mindy asked, her eyes nearly glowing with excitement. “Really?”
“I said ‘was.’ Keep up,” Jason said flatly before he released her and turned away. He looked at Ronnie. “Happy now?”
“I’m getting there.”
“What’s your point in doing this?” Jason asked. “To prolong not doing as I asked? Do you forget that you and I made a pact? I gave you a promise bound in magic, but in order for that promise to be effective, you have to keep your end of the bargain.”
Ronnie held his gaze when all she wanted to do was look away. She was scared to the point of falling apart. The only reason she was able to hold it together was because of Andy. Somehow she had to get the both of them away from Wallace. “Point taken.”
“Good. Now, where do you suppose we begin? Is there anything else at this dig site of yours?”
“You mean the one you tore to shreds? Nothing magical. That was found already.”
Jason resumed his position of leaning against the front of his desk and tapped his fingers on its dark wood. “And where are those items now?”
“The MacLeods took them. I have no idea where they’re at.” And she prayed Jason wouldn’t make her go find them. She’d never be able to look Arran in the eye, knowing she was betraying all that they had been fighting for. Not to mention she didn’t know how she wouldn’t start crying and beg for his help.
Arran had an inherent nobility that would make him help her, but would it be enough before Wallace killed Andy? Did she dare to try something so reckless on the off chance Andy would be saved with her?
She didn’t want to die, nor did she want to help Jason in any way. But Andy was a brother she never had. How could she leave him to Jason’ devices?
Ronnie inwardly screamed in defeat. She didn’t have a choice. Jason had made sure of that. If only she hadn’t turned Arran away, if only she hadn’t run from him.
But she had, and she was royally screwed.
Jason stared at her for long, silent minutes. Her heart pounded so loud in her chest, she was sure everyone could hear it. All the while she silently prayed that he wouldn’t ask her to go to the MacLeods.
“I’ll get those lost items soon enough. I’ve a feeling there is something important among them, which is why MacCarrick was so hasty to remove them. So. Tell me what was in the chamber.”
Ronnie racked her brain for an answer that would lead him away from the MacLeods. She finally decided on as much truth as she thought he’d accept. “There was a dagger, several bowls, a small wooden chest, and other items like that.”
“I can no’ help but think you’re leaving something out. I want to know every item, Dr. Reid.”
“It’s not like I haven’t been running for my life or anything,” she replied before she could stop herself. “You try doing it and tell me if you remember every little detail from one night almost a week ago.”
Jason silently stared at her for several minutes. “We’ll move on for now. But understand, I will get the information. Now, why don’t you tell me what it was you released?”
“I didn’t release anything.”
“That’s not what the prophecy says.”
Ronnie knew everything counted on her next words. She’d failed drama class in school, but then again, her life hadn’t been on the line. “I found the prophecy, which you know. I haven’t released anything yet.”
“Yet.” Jason drew in a long breath, his persistent, smug smile grating on her nerves. “But you will. I’m going to make sure of it. Where is it you would’ve gone to dig next?”
Ronnie nearly collapsed with relief, but she had to keep it in check. She had lied, but if he went in her mind again, would he discover that? She hoped not.
That wasn’t all she was afraid he’d find. If Jason ever learned just how much she cared about Arran, Saffron, and the rest, he would use it against her.
“Ronnie,” Jason urged when she didn’t immediately answer.
She swallowed and looked at the floor. There were two places, but one she knew had many legends of magic surrounding it—the Isle of Skye.
And the other place was a small town northwest of Inverness.
“Redcastle.”
Jason looked at Dale. “Ready the cars. We leave in thirty minutes.”
Ronnie closed her eyes, unable to believe what she was about to do. She was thinking how she could get to Andy and rescue him when there was a loud boom that shook the mansion.
And then all hell broke loose.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
Arran closed his eyes and concentrated on Ronnie. He hated that Jason’s spells had prevented him from zeroing in on her magic as he normally could have done.
The fact that he could discern Ronnie’s magic from any other Druid’s wasn’t something Arran wanted to look at deeper. He wasn’t a fool. He’d heard the other Warriors who were married talk about how their wives’ magic was different than the rest.
Arran inhaled deeply when he felt a rush of Ronnie’s magic. It was tinged in fear, and that only made him angrier. Only made his god howl louder for blood and death.
“There will be blood,” Arran whispered.
Lots of it. The only one immune from his wrath in the mansion was Ronnie. Everyone else was fair game.
Arran opened his eyes. He glanced at Malcolm, who stood with Charon on the left side of the house. They had already jumped the fence, thanks to Ramsey using his magic.
All Arran was doing was waiting for Ramsey to make it ba
ck to him. There was a flap of wings from above. Broc had been flying around the mansion, testing to see how far the spells surrounded the house.
“Everyone is in place,” Ramsey said as he silently moved to stand between Fallon and Arran.
“Let’s get inside,” Arran said. “I want to make a grand entrance.”
Fallon growled low in his throat. “Aye. A grand entrance.”
Arran watched in amazement as Ramsey, with the bronze skin of his god showing, used the potent magic he held as the only half-Druid, half-Warrior. It was a secret he’d kept from everyone, even Deirdre, until recently.
Ramsey was able to tear a rift in Jason’s magic that allowed them to get over the tall gate. The rift was so slight that Jason would never feel his magic had been tampered with.
“He’s too bloody cocky,” Phelan said with a growl.
Arran grunted in agreement. “I count just six guards patrolling the front. The bastard underestimates us.”
“Better make that five guards,” Fallon said, his gaze lifted to the roof.
Arran looked up just in time to see shadows overtake a guard. A moment later, a woman fell to the ground. “Lucan strikes again.”
“That’s a damned drough,” Phelan murmured.
Fallon snorted in disgust. “Declan used mercenaries. Jason uses Druids.”
“That could be a problem for all of us,” Arran said.
Phelan looked at Fallon, then Arran. “Each of us knew what we were attacking. Whether it was Deirdre, Declan, or this new asshole, evil is evil. I’m no’ afraid to die.”
Arran wasn’t either, but he also wasn’t ready to die. He wanted to hold Ronnie in his arms one last time.
He squatted and put his hand on the ground. With his acute hearing, he could detect Camdyn moving the earth and getting closer and closer to the mansion.
Every Warrior there was able to call forth his power at will. Everyone except Arran. He was only able to use his power if there was snow or ice around him. It would be just his luck the battle had to occur in summer.
“What is it?” Phelan asked.
Arran gave a vicious shake of his head. Even without snow or ice, Arran was still a Warrior. He had speed and strength. He’d use those to defeat Jason.
With a glance to Malcolm who stood waiting off to the right, Arran nodded. Malcolm raised his hands above his head, and lightning streaked from his fingers.
All around them lightning erupted. Streaks zigzagged and forked across the sky in a majestic display, shooting from seemingly out of nowhere to hit the ground one after another. It was an impressive sight.
And then Malcolm turned his hands toward the mansion. The lightning began to strike it, blasting windows and doors with a magnificent exhibition of power.
Arran stood and walked to the front door. He didn’t need to look above to know Broc and Lucan were making their way into the house from the roof. He didn’t need to look to know that Camdyn and Quinn would attack from the dungeon up. Nor did Arran need to check to make sure the others were attacking from each side.
That’s what happened when men fought side by side through battle after battle.
“Careful,” Phelan said from behind Arran.
Phelan and Fallon were staying hidden for the time being, but it wouldn’t be for long.
Arran jogged to the front steps and bounded to the top in one leap. He delighted at the shattered double doors that had splintered upon a lightning strike.
He didn’t bother to duck as Malcolm continued to strike the house. Lightning would hurt, but it wouldn’t kill a Warrior. It was effective, however, in causing the Druids to be more interested in avoiding it than seeing who attacked.
“Who is it?” Jason yelled from somewhere to Arran’s left.
Arran stepped over a dead Druid who had a long piece of wood from the door stuck in her chest. Now that he was inside the mansion, he could locate Ronnie with ease.
And somehow he wasn’t surprised to find Jason had her with him.
Arran’s claws itched to sink into Jason’s flesh. He yearned to see Jason’s blood seeping from his body. He needed to see the life drain from Jason’s eyes.
And he would. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would see it done.
Arran spotted the set of doors that were caved inward, but still on their hinges. Jason’s voice—and Ronnie’s magic—were through the doors.
He’d taken two steps toward them when the doors suddenly flew at him. Arran raised an arm and knocked one of them away before it could hit him.
Dale’s large form filled the doorway. A second later, another Warrior joined him.
“Oh, good. Someone else to play with,” Arran said with a smile.
There was a feminine scream from inside the room, and Arran could only guess that was Fallon teleporting in and attacking.
“Use your magic!” Jason barked to the Druids above the screams.
Arran could detect several droughs in the room, but just as he’d hoped, there was too much disarray for them to gather their black magic and use it.
“Have you come to be killed?” Dale asked.
Arran chuckled. Damned if he didn’t like the Warrior’s attitude. “You left the last battle early. I actually came to finish what I was meant to do.”
“Interesting.” Dale kicked at a piece of broken door and stepped out of the room. “Is that all you came for?”
“Nothing else you need to worry about.”
“You’ll never get to her. Jason will make sure of it.”
Arran shrugged while the screams escalated as Fallon teleported in again and killed a drough. “We’ll see.”
“She’s working for us now. She and Jason made a pact.”
For a moment Arran couldn’t breathe, then he realized Ronnie had to have been under some kind of duress. No matter what the prophecy had said, he knew she wasn’t evil. “What did he use against her?”
It was Dale’s turn to grin. “Nothing.”
No. Arran refused to believe it. He knew Ronnie. He’d felt the goodness of her magic and her heart. She knew how dangerous Jason was, and she would never side with him. Never.
Arran flexed his fingers. Dale lowered his head as he prepared to attack. Before he could, the second Warrior roared and came at Arran.
* * *
Camdyn broke through the ground into the dungeon. He and Quinn both jumped out of the ground and onto the floor. It was quiet. Too quiet.
“Camdyn,” Quinn whispered.
They held their claws at the ready as they scanned the darkness.
“Quinn!” Camdyn yelled as he detected a drough hiding in the shadows.
He barely got the word out before a blast of magic hit him.
* * *
Hayden grabbed the top of the windowsill as he swung inside the second-floor window. His feet planted against a Warrior, who went flying backwards to crash into the opposite wall.
Hayden landed smoothly in the room and held out his hand as a ball of fire formed.
“My wife wouldna want to hear it, but I’ve missed battle,” he said.
The Warrior shook his head to clear it as he slowly gained his feet. He looked at Hayden’s fireball and showed his fangs.
“Ah, how I’ve forgotten how stupid baby Warriors are.”
The Warrior charged Hayden, but he launched four fireballs in quick succession, setting his attacker ablaze. Hayden then jabbed him in the gut so the Warrior bent over.
And with one clean slice, he took the Warrior’s head.
Hayden knew Logan was in a room down the hall. He stepped into the corridor and drew up short as drough magic slammed into him, pinning him roughly against a wall.
* * *
Ian and Galen stormed into the first-story window only to find the room empty. With a silent look, they crept from the small room into the hall.
All around them, lightning continued to strike and screams could be heard throughout the house. But neither let their guard down.
&nbs
p; A woman turned the corner and started to race past them, her gaze continually looking over her shoulder. Ian caught the drough by the shoulders and held her as Galen put his hand on her head.
He looked deep into her eyes and said, “You’re never to return here. You willna ever see or talk to Jason again. If he contacts you, you’ll run.”
Galen dropped his hand, and Ian watched the drough rush from the house.
“Will it work?”
Galen turned his head to Ian. “Aye. I couldna bring myself to kill a Druid, even though she’s drough.”
“I know,” Ian said. “We’re probably going to regret it.”
They jerked as they felt more drough magic. Both turned toward the source to find three droughs, who quickly lashed out at them with magic.
Ian gave a bellow of fury as he was brought to his knees by the pain in his head. He glanced up to see they had Galen frozen in place as one of the droughs came up to him.
* * *
“Finally,” Phelan said as he strode around the house near where Malcolm and the vicious lightning were.
Phelan stepped through a broken window, his boots crunching on glass. All the lights flickered and then went out throughout the house.
No doubt thanks to Malcolm.
Phelan walked from the dining room, which housed a table that could easily seat twenty. The sliding door that had sectioned off the room was all but gone.
He walked out of the dining room and found two droughs on the floor. “Fried extra crispy,” he said of their blackened, smoking skin.
With barely a thought, he used his power to manipulate reality so no one would see him. They might have lost Larena and her power of invisibility, but his was the next best thing.
Phelan heard a grunt toward the back of the house that was unmistakably Warrior. After a quick look around a corner, Phelan saw Arran locked in battle against two Warriors, and Fallon was making quick work of the Druids inside the office.
He turned and nearly ran into Charon, who was coming toward him. Phelan eased his magic down so Charon would see him. Charon slid to a halt, his bronze Warrior eyes filled with the bloodlust that often took them.
“I heard Warriors.”
Phelan gave a nod. “Me as well. I was just going to check it out. Arran and Fallon are doing all right for the moment.”