Highlander The Demon Lord (Highland Warriors Trilogy Book 3)

by Donna Fletcher

  Adara loved her husband’s kisses. Whether gentle or firm, slow or eager, they never failed to tingle her senses and arouse her.

  Warrick warned himself not to let the kiss go on or he would hoist her up in his arms and carry her to their bedchamber where they would spend the rest of the day, in bed and out, making love.

  He silently cursed himself for listening to his own warning, but there were serious matters that needed his attention. He rested his brow to hers.

  “I will wait in the keep as you say,” Adara said, tracing his warm lips with her finger. “Do not keep me waiting long, husband.” She kissed him when he went to speak, the kiss as hasty as the words that followed. “I have a hungry need for you.” She turned and hurried to Callie, not looking back, worried if she did, she would not be able to leave him.

  The two women hooked arms again and continued to the keep.

  “I am so glad you love my brother as you do. I would often feel guilty that I found a good man to love me, show me the love that I craved so desperately, and Warrick had no one to do the same for him. Now he does and I am so happy for him. He deserves it after the hell my father put him through. Please do not ever stop loving him.”

  Adara squeezed Callie’s arm. “Rest assured, Callie, that that would be impossible. My love for your brother grows stronger every day.”

  “Good. Now let us go eat, and after we will stitch more garments for the bairn.”

  “We have stitched many already.”

  Callie lowered her voice. “We may have need of more.” She was quick to explain when Adara looked ready to cry out with joy. “I do not know for sure, but the possibility grows stronger with each passing day. I just hope it is so.”

  “Does Roark know?”

  Callie laughed. “From the first day I thought it was possible I said something to him and he has shared each day with me, waiting and hoping that we will have a bairn of our own come this summer.”

  Adara offered what she could. “I will pray it is so.”

  With wide smiles, the two women entered the Great Hall. They ate and talked and talked some more after settling in Adara’s solar.

  A knock sounded at the door before a voice called out. “Roark requests that his wife meet him at their cottage.”

  Callie smiled. “If he requested that I meet him there, then things must be finished for the day, which means Warrick will return soon to you.” Callie stood with a stretch. “I intend to enjoy my husband for the rest of the day. You do the same.”

  Adara smiled, planning to do just that.

  The door opened not long after Callie left and Adara turned with a smile. “What did you forg—” Her smile died on her lips when she did not recognize the servant standing there.

  “I knew no one would know me.”

  Adara stared at the woman for several silent moments and then her eyes grew wide—it was Maia. She looked nothing as she once did. She was thin to the point of looking gravely ill, her eyes sunk deep in her face and her gray hair had been sheared off above her shoulders that were stooped as if age had taken quick hold of her.

  Maia shut the door behind her. “I see by your look that you never expected to see me again. Your knife did enough damage to me, though it also saved me. By not pulling it from my wound it kept the blood from flowing out too strongly and my friends were able to save me, searing the wound, though healing took its toll on me.”

  “You will never get out of the keep alive,” Adara warned, praying that Warrick would arrive soon.

  Maia laughed. “I came here to meet death. I am not strong enough or foolish enough to think I can best the Demon Lord, but I can make him suffer by taking the life of his wife and bairn.”

  “Why? Why do you hate Warrick so much that you want him dead?”

  “Sondra.”

  “His first wife.”

  “You know her name so you know what happened to her.”

  “I know she tried to kill him.”

  “Liar!” Maia spit out the word like venom. “He killed her for the joy of it. Demons do that.”

  Adara needed no convincing that that was a lie. Warrick had been taught to do nothing for joy only for gain. His marriage to Sondra had been arranged for just that. Warrick would have done nothing to jeopardize that.

  “Sondra attacked him.”

  “She would not have been foolish enough to do such a thing. She knew well she did not have the skill or strength to best the Demon Lord,” Maia argued, shaking her head. “I taught her well like I tried to teach you.”

  “You knew Sondra?” Adara asked, trying to make sense of what had happened.

  “I raised her, took care of her, soothed her when she took ill and comforted her when she cried.”

  “You were her nursemaid?”

  Maia did not acknowledge Adara’s questions but her words answered for her. “Sondra was a precious child, beautiful, caring, giving, gentle… far too gentle for the Demon Lord and yet—” Maia shook her head. “It was my fault. I told her that she had a duty to do. That she had to obey her father and wed Warrick. I thought her love for Searle was nothing more than a young lass’s fancy. I never realized how much she loved the young warrior or how much he loved her.”

  Adara remained silent, wanting to keep the woman talking, giving Warrick time to return to the keep.

  “Sondra was the daughter of a Viking chieftain who had settled in one of the north isles. The King approached her father about a marriage that would benefit the chieftain and the King. Her father was all too eager to compile, the benefits substantial.” Maia shook her head. “I never learned until later that her father had Searle killed when he learned of the young man’s plan to rescue his beloved. Searle had learned of Warrick’s father’s brutality with women and feared what Sondra might suffer even before she wed the Demon Lord.”

  “Sondra told Warrick that he had given her what she wanted... death.”

  “So that she could be reunited with the man she loved,” Maia said, tears filling her eyes. “When Searle’s family learned about it, they promised revenge and I joined them in their quest. They returned home after Searle’s brother took ill. They did not want to lose him as well. I, on the other hand, have nothing to lose. I lost it all when Sondra died.”

  “What had brought you to the area where I had first met you?” Adara asked.

  “I arrived here with Sondra to help her learn about her soon-to-be new home, the land and its people, and to prepare her to wed Warrick. I returned with her two brothers and cousins to help them take revenge against the Demon Lord. We lost track of him for a while and was surprised to discover he had wed. I was shocked to see it was you he took as his wife—a mere servant. I knew you could prove beneficial for us and you did when you freed me. You will be my revenge against him. He will find you dead, his bairn cut from your stomach never to know life.”

  “You have no time to do such a horrid thing. Warrick will be here soon,” Adara warned.

  Maia laughed. “You are a foolish lass. Callie will wait at the cottage for Roark, but he is busy with Warrick. By the time the message is found to be false, it will be too late for you and your bairn.”

  Adara felt a catch to her heart. Her husband was not coming. It was up to her to save herself and their bairn.

  Maia pulled a knife out of her boot. “You have grown larger with child and that will slow you down.”

  “And you are frail from your wound and that will give me an advantage,” Adara said, placing doubt in Maia’s mind as she tried to do to her. But it would not work. She intended to do whatever it took to keep her bairn safe.

  Maia laughed again. “I admire you. You are far too courageous to be nothing more than a servant, but a demon grows inside you and you must die.”

  “The only thing that grows inside me is an innocent bairn.”

  “It is a demon seed and it will grow no more,” Maia said and charged at Adara.

  After waiting in the cottage for a while, Callie got annoyed that her
husband had yet to arrive. She stepped outside and looked around. Seeing Langdon, she waved him over and asked, “Have you seen Roark?”

  “Last I saw him he was with Warrick in the warrior camp on the outskirts of the village,” Langdon said.

  Callie, her anger mounting that her husband had sent for her then kept her waiting, set out for the camp. She met Roark and Warrick halfway to the camp.

  “So you send for me, husband, then leave me waiting,” Callie scolded.

  Roark went to his wife and wrapped her in his arms. “Sent for you?”

  “You requested I meet you in the cottage. The servant brought the message to Adara’s stitching room and I hurried here eager to see you.”

  “I sent no message,” Roark said and turned to Warrick who was already breaking into a run. “Alert the men.”

  The two men went opposite ways. Instinct had Callie following her brother.

  Adara was in trouble.

  Chapter 29

  Adara’s mind worked quick, ruling out getting past Maia to run for the door. The stairs would be no place to fight the crazed woman. Instinct had her grabbing the tankard on the table as she rushed out of the chair and throwing it at Maia. It hit her in the head, stunning her for a moment and giving Adara the time she needed to hurry and grab a log from the pile by the hearth. It was not much of a weapon, but it would serve as a shield against the knife.

  Maia stumbled, almost falling, but caught herself. Blood ran into her eye from the cut on her brow just above it. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and glared at Adara. “I will make sure that you are still alive when I cut the child from your belly so you can watch it die along with you.”

  Maia may have meant to frighten her, but Adara found strength in her terrifying threat. “You are vile and I will see you dead.”

  Maia laughed. “You will not best me this time.” She lunged again and Adara blocked the thrust of the knife with the log and gave a shove, sending Maia stumbling back. As she did, Adara hurled the log at the woman. It hit Maia in the shoulder and sent her stumbling again only this time she could not stop herself from falling, the knife slipping from her hand as she did.

  Adara rushed for the knife.

  Maia was quick to roll and grab for it and as Adara’s hand reached the handle first, gripping it tight, Maia’s hand fell over hers, locking around it like an iron shackle and yanking Adara, sending her to her knees.

  Adara sent a punch to the woman’s wound and Maia sent a hard kick to Adara’s one leg. Adara ignored the pain that shot through her leg, her only thought to keep her bairn safe. Maia raised her free hand and Adara grabbed her wrist and wrenched it back hard before the vicious blow could land on her stomach.

  Maia let out a yell and let go of Adara’s wrist to give her a quick punch to the jaw, stunning Adara for a moment but not enough to prevent her from raising the knife as Maia went to grab it from her. It sliced the palm of her hand and blood began to pour from it.

  Pain and fury raged on Maia’s face and in an instant her bloody hand grabbed Adara’s neck, squeezing tight.

  Adara plunged the knife into Maia’s stomach.

  The woman gave a cringing yell, then tightened her fingers at Adara’s throat. “I’ll choke the life from you before I die.”

  Adara struggled for air as she went to pull the knife out of Maia, knowing she had little time to get the next plunge where it would do the most good. Maia’s free hand came up to stop her, but Adara grabbed her injured wrist and gave it a sudden, sharp snap.

  The intense pain caused Maia to loosen her grip on Adara’s throat, returning some breath and strength to her. It was enough to pull the knife from Maia just as her fingers dug into Adara’s neck once again with a strength born of desperation to see her dead.

  Adara did not waste a minute, she plunged the knife into Maia’s neck with one good thrust. Blood spewed out, hitting Adara in the face and Maia’s eyes widened for a second with what seemed like pleasure. The woman’s hand loosened at her throat and Adara pushed it away, gasping for breath.

  This time Adara took no chances, she pulled the knife out of Maia’s throat and blood spewed out soaking her garment across her chest. She sat on the floor beside the dying woman and stared as her life drained away. “I gave you what you came for… death.”

  When the gurgling stopped and no breath came from Maia, Adara tried to stand, but she found she had no strength left. She crawled to the nearby corner and managed to sit up, bracing her back to the wall. She stared at the blood covering her hands, felt it wet on her face, smelled it on her garment.

  With a hefty sigh, she rested her hand on her protruding stomach and closed her eyes. “You are safe, little one. You are safe.”

  The door burst open and the first thing Warrick saw was his wife, her eyes closed, blood covering her face, her hands, her garment, and he let out a furious roar that echoed through the entire keep and beyond.

  Adara’s eyes shot open and, seeing her husband, she smiled.

  Warrick thought his heart would leap from his chest as he rushed to her and just before he dropped down beside her, he saw Maia, blood pooling around her, her mouth agape, and her eyes wide and lifeless. He turned his attention to his wife.

  “This is Maia’s blood,” Adara said, seeing what she never thought she would ever see on her husband’s face—fear.

  “Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked, wanting nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her tight.

  She shook her head.

  Warrick shut his eyes briefly and let out a breath, then he slipped his arms under his wife and lifted her gently into his arms and stood.

  Roark waited by the door with his arm around his wife, tears streaming down her face.

  “I want not a spot of blood left in this room,” Warrick said to Roark. “Callie, please have the servants prepare a bath in my bedchambers.”

  She nodded.

  “I am fine,” Adara said, seeing the tears streaming down Callie’s face.

  “We should send for Espy,” Callie said.

  “No,” Adara said, “with the snow already on the ground and the feel in the air of more to come it is not good for her to travel in her condition. I suffered no serious harm. I do not need a healer.”

  Warrick thought otherwise. “Send for Cyra.” He stopped his wife before she could object. “It is not for you to decide.” He tucked her closer against him and walked out of the room and when they got to their bedchamber, he sat on the bed and rested her in his lap, his arms remaining firm around her.

  “Warrick,” Adara said with a soft worry when the silence grew too heavy.

  “I thought you were dead,” he said, resting his brow to hers. “I thought I had lost you.” He raised his head his eyes settling on hers. “I have never known such fear, such helplessness… such rage at being powerless. I cannot lose you, Adara. You are a part of me. Without you my heart would not beat, I would not be able to breathe, my soul would not be free. You taught me what it is to love.” He took a deep breath and said, “I love you, Adara. I love you with all my strength, all my heart. I love you forever and beyond.”

  Adara felt the tear trickle down her face. “Your words, your love, fill me with joy. I do so love you, husband.”

  The words spilled more easily from his lips. “And I love you, wife, more than I can express.”

  “You can show me.” She grinned mischievously. “I love when you show me.”

  “I will show you often and tell you often.”

  “Every day,” she teased with a soft laugh.

  “Every day,” he agreed with a whisper and went to kiss her.

  Adara turned her head away. “Do not kiss me. I will not have her blood stain your lips.”

  Warrick took hold of her chin and turned her face to look at him.

  “Please pay heed to my plea. I want it washed away, all of it, the blood from the past, the blood I wear now. I want us to start fresh, cleansed of all the evil we both have suffered.”
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  “I will wash it away, wife, and when it is gone, I will kiss you for the first time.”

  Adara smiled. “I look forward to that kiss more than any kiss you have given me.”

  The servants began to enter the room, Wynn gasping when she looked at Adara.

  “I am not injured,” Wynn,” she assured the old woman and slipped out of her husband’s arms to stand and nearly collapsed from the pain that shot up her leg if she had not grabbed Warrick’s arm.

  He lifted her again in his arms and went to lay her on the bed.

  Adara protested. “No, I am bloody and the bedding is clean.”

  “I do not care if the bedding gets bloody. The servants can change it,” Warrick said and laid her on the bed. “You said you were not injured. What pains you?”

  “My leg. Maia gave it a good kick.”

  Warrick pulled back the hem of her shift and shook his head at the dark bruise on the calf of her left leg. He was angry that he had failed to be there for her, failed to protect her, failed to keep her safe, and in their own home.

  “It is not your fault,” she whispered, knowing well his thoughts.

  He lowered himself down on his haunches to look in her lovely dark blue eyes. “I told you I would keep you safe.”

  “And you did.” She continued before he could argue. “You helped me conquer my fears and gave me the courage to defend myself. I am forever grateful you chose me as your wife.”

  “You tricked me into choosing you,” he teased.

  “However did I do that when I did not know you?” she asked with soft laughter.

  “I chose a woman who appeared obedient, shy, fearful, and what did I get?” He smiled. “I got more than I bargained for. I got a woman stronger and more determined than any woman I have ever known and one that loves like I have never known. Now let me get you washed since I desperately want to kiss you.”

  When the servants left, Warrick stripped off her garments and cast them aside to be burned. He never wanted to see them on her again, no matter how clean they might be. He lifted her and gently placed her in the tub. He scrubbed her hair first, digging his fingers into her scalp, making sure he got rid of any blood that might be there. Then he scrubbed the blood from her body, watching as each part of her skin glistened and the smell of lavender began to drift off her. He worked quickly not wanting her to sit long in the water that had turned a putrid shade of red from the blood.