by Donna Grant
He held out his hand and watched as a pale blue claw lengthened from the tip of his finger. Ian used it to slice off some meat and began to eat.
Ian ate until he couldn’t take another bite. He couldn’t remember ever being so full, but then he had no idea how long he’d gone without food.
Already he could feel his strength returning, and with it his mind seemed clearer. He turned his head toward the entrance of the cave wishing he would hear a wolf howl. Ever since he had been taken from MacLeod Castle he couldn’t remember seeing or hearing a wolf.
“You always loved the dangerous beasts, Ian.”
Ian snorted. He had always loved the wolves. They were majestic and wild, untamed and ferocious, a lot like Warriors. And just like Warriors, wolves were misunderstood.
People feared them and hunted them when a pack ventured too close to their land. The wolves were only doing what was in their nature.
“Just as I am,” Ian murmured.
Maybe all Warriors were destined to fall under the control of their god.
Ian thought of the MacLeods and how much tragedy they had borne. He thought of Quinn and how he’d lost his wife and son to Deirdre’s massacre of the clan. Though Quinn had been on the edge of losing himself to his god, he’d pulled through it.
Marcail’s love had had a lot to do with it, Ian was sure, but there had been something else as well. A drive within Quinn to not give in and become what Deirdre wanted.
Quinn had spoken often of his brothers while they’d been held prisoner. He’d always known Lucan and Fallon would come for him. No matter how much time had passed, his belief had never wavered.
Ian had understood Quinn. Always he and Duncan had been there for each other. Whatever trials life had thrown at them, he and Duncan had survived them together.
“Not this time, brother. This time, you must do it on your own.”
Ian wasn’t sure he could. He wanted to believe he could, but the simple truth was his god was much more powerful than he’d ever known.
He’d taken it for granted that he’d not had Farmire’s full strength and rage to contend with alone. Duncan had borne half of it all.
How Ian wished he’d been the one to die instead of Duncan. Not that he’d want Duncan to have to battle Farmire alone, but knowing he’d never look upon his twin again or share a meal with him again made Ian’s chest ache with a fierceness that would never diminish.
The anguish that filled him was as strong as it had been the moment Ian had felt his brother’s connection fade. Ian had known Duncan was gone, but before he could face it, Farmire’s complete power and rage slammed into Ian.
He’d been in the great hall of MacLeod Castle when it happened. He didn’t remember much after that. Only the fury and the need to kill.
Now the only sounds Ian heard were of the falling snow, the wind, and the profound silence. No laughter, no conversation, no friendship.
“You need more.”
At one time Ian might have thought he did, but not anymore. The moon-drenched, snow-covered mountain was his home now.
“And the MacLeods? The other Warriors? What about them and their fight against Deirdre? I canno’ believe you doona want revenge for her killing me.”
Ian shook his head slowly. “I want to help the MacLeods, Duncan. You know that. But I’m a danger to the Druids in the state I’m in.”
“Then fight Farmire!”
“I’m trying.”
“No’ hard enough, brother.”
At one time Ian wouldn’t have had a conversation with himself as he was doing now. Though the voice sounded like Duncan, Ian knew it was his own mind he was speaking with.
“If I get near Deirdre in this state, I doona think I could stop my god from taking over.”
“You can. You were always the strongest, Ian. This hiding away in a cave away from friends who could help isn’t you.”
“Ah, but it is, brother. And the mere fact I’m having this conversation tells me it’s a good thing I’m alone.”
“You doona think this is me?”
Ian rolled his eyes and turned to lie on his back. “I know it’s no’. I’m going daft.”
“Nay, Ian. It’s me. I doona know how or why, but it’s me.”
How Ian wanted to believe the voice, needed to believe. He’d seen some spectacular things done with magic, but there was no way Duncan could be speaking with him, none at all.
No matter how much Ian wished it were otherwise.
* * *
Danielle came awake with a moan. She pushed away from the steering wheel and leaned against her seat. Tentatively, she touched her head and winced when she came in contact with a large bump on her forehead. Then she saw the blood on her fingers and groaned.
Through the haze of pain she looked around her Mini to see the window busted into thousands of cracks that somehow held together.
Her door was another matter. The SUV that had rammed her had bowed the door inward. When Danielle tried to move her leg, it wouldn’t budge.
For a moment, dread made her fret that her leg was broken, but when she was able to move her toes, she let out a long breath.
She spent the next few moments working her leg free so she could crawl out of her seat. Her dress was torn, and somehow she had managed to lose one of her gloves.
Since she couldn’t get out through her door, Danielle shifted into the passenger seat. But that proved more difficult than she had first thought.
Every time she moved, her body screamed in agony. She wasn’t sure what she had hurt when she was hit. All she knew was that she wanted to lie down and sleep for the next twenty years.
But in the cold, Danielle couldn’t chance it. She made herself keep moving no matter how slowly she did so.
When she got to the passenger seat, the door wouldn’t open either. She swallowed and pushed her shoulder into the door. And was rewarded with agony that blinded her.
Danielle took a deep breath and wiped the fog off the window. And found the reason the door wouldn’t open.
Snow.
“This just isn’t my night,” she muttered.
With no other recourse, she rolled down the window. A blast of frigid air filled her car, making her teeth chatter. Danielle shouldered her way through the open window, and then turned so that she sat on the door.
But as she was trying to move one leg out of the car to put on the ground, her stiletto got caught on the seat and sent her sprawling backward.
Fortunately, the thick snow cushioned her fall. Even though her coat was soaking up the moisture, Danielle didn’t want to move.
She looked up at the sky to see that the clouds blocked out all trace of stars or the moon. All she could see for miles around her was falling snow.
Danielle forced herself to stand. Using her car to steady her, she walked to the SUV to see if anyone was hurt.
“Hello,” Danielle called as she reached the large vehicle. “Is everyone all right?”
She knocked on the driver’s window and tried to look inside the tinted windows. When there was no answer, she tried the door, but just as she expected, it was locked.
Danielle walked around the SUV to the passenger side. And stopped cold.
“Oh, dear God.”
She covered her mouth with her hand as she looked at the woman lying dead in the snow, a shard of glass sticking out of her neck. The snow around the woman was stained red from all the blood.
Danielle stumbled backward, her heart pounding wildly. She looked up to find the passenger door window completely shattered. There was glass everywhere.
Reluctantly, Danielle leaned to the side and peered into the SUV. The driver’s eyes were empty as he stared at her.
“I’ve got to call someone,” Danielle said to herself as she half ran, half stumbled her way back to the passenger side of her Mini.
Her purse had been thrown to the floorboard, and most of its contents had fallen out. Danielle got what she could see and reach as she leaned
through the window.
“Aha!” she cried when she found her iPhone.
Yet one look at the cracked glass and she wondered if it would work. No matter how hard she tried, the phone wouldn’t come on.
Danielle looked around. She couldn’t get her bearings. She wasn’t sure if she was facing the way she had come, or still going east.
She had always been directionally challenged, but with the bump on her head, she was more disoriented than usual. And it hurt her head to think.
“Where is the other car?” she asked, a hand pressed against her pounding head. She had rear-ended a car. She was sure of it.
Was someone out there hurt? Or had they fled the scene?
Danielle glanced at her watch to see that three hours had passed since the accident. And no one had come to help them. That wasn’t a good sign.
With the wind howling and the snow falling faster, she had to find shelter from the weather. She would freeze to death if she stayed in her car.
As much as she didn’t want to, Danielle looked through the SUV for another mobile phone. She tried to ignore the two dead people, but after looking for ten minutes, she found that it it got too eerie and she gave up.
Danielle reached into her pocket and touched the key with her bare hand. “Which way? Which way do I go?”
Oddly, the key told her nothing.
She’d always trusted her instincts before, and she had no other choice now. Her iPhone didn’t work, and there was no other way to reach anyone. She would have to walk.
Danielle looked around her until she found what she thought was the road. It was difficult to tell with all the snow that had fallen so quickly. She would travel it. Sooner or later she was bound to come across someone or some town.
At least she hoped she would.
CHAPTER
FOUR
Danielle burrowed beneath her coat and scarf and trudged through the snow. She had no idea how far she had walked when she realized she wasn’t on any type of road.
She halted, tears stinging her eyes. Her breath clouded white in front of her as she stared over the landscape. With her sense of direction always off, she had no idea where she was going.
Danielle gripped the key in her hand. “Which way?” she asked it for the twentieth time.
The object stayed silent. She didn’t understand it. In the past, the objects had always been adamant about where she needed to go and how soon she had to get there. The only time an object was silent was when she reached her destination.
A hysterical laugh escaped Danielle. “This can’t be where MacLeod Castle is. Where is the bloody castle?!” she hollered into the night.
She looked over her shoulder as she considered retracing her steps to her car, but the snowfall was wiping away all traces of her footprints. It was either stay put and freeze or go forward and hopefully find some help.
“Onward it is,” she mumbled.
She had taken a dozen or so steps when the eerie shriek rent the air. Danielle froze in her tracks, the hair on the back of her neck rising in fear.
Every fiber of her being told her to run. Fast.
She didn’t think twice as she ignored the thick snow and the ascent up the mountain as she ran.
* * *
How many days had passed? How many trips to the loch? Ian had lost track. He stood in the dark, cold depths of the loch and felt his god stir.
“Nay,” he growled.
The freezing water helped. It had kept Farmire away. But it seemed his god was only growing stronger instead of weaker.
“Nay,” Ian said again.
He looked into the water and watched as his reflection changed before his eyes. His tanned skin faded, replaced by the pale blue of his god.
Lethal blue claws sprouted from his fingers, and when he peeled back his lips, he saw the fangs that filled his mouth. He could only shake his head in shame as his brown eyes faded away and pale blue filled them completely, including the whites.
He’d seen Duncan in his Warrior form, but Ian had never seen himself. He looked … fearsome. Angry. Vengeful.
He was all those things and more.
Farmire’s voice was insistent, demanding, as he called for blood, for death. Ian had always denied him, but his god was becoming louder, more powerful.
Ian didn’t think he had many more weeks, or even days, before he would fall to Farmire completely. He had to end it all before then. It was the only way. Under no circumstances would he tumble under Deirdre’s reign again.
“Fight, Ian!” Duncan’s voice yelled in his head. “You are strong enough to overcome our god. I know you can.”
Ian squeezed his eyes shut. Daft or not, Ian would rather listen to Duncan’s voice than Farmire’s. Without another thought Ian dove beneath the surface. He swam with fast, sure strokes into the middle of the loch, bursting through ice as he did.
When he reached the middle, Ian treaded water. He wouldn’t leave until he had his god under control. The water would kill mortals, and though Ian could feel the cold, his immortality kept him from dying.
Only when he was able to make his claws retract and his fangs disappear did Ian start toward shore. By the time he stood in the shallow water, the blue skin of his god had faded as well.
“You did it, brother. I knew you could.”
“But for how much longer?”
“As long as it takes.”
Ian snorted. “I have plenty of time.”
“You need something that will give you the motivation to overpower Farmire as you once did.”
“Fighting against Deirdre should be reason enough. Avenging your death should be reason enough.”
“Doona blame Malcolm for killing me. He’s under Deirdre’s control. And my death wasna Logan’s fault either. We all knew the dangers in fighting Deirdre. We all risk our lives each time we confront her.”
Ian knew it was true, but he didn’t have to like it. “I miss you, Duncan.”
“I’ve not left. And I willna until you no longer need me.”
Ian drew in a deep breath of the cold air and felt a thread of satisfaction at knowing Duncan would always be there, because there would never be a time he didn’t need his brother.
“You should return to MacLeod Castle so they can help you.”
“I’m a danger to the Druids. Farmire’s desire for blood and death grows each day. Sometimes I think about giving in. I miss the satisfaction of killing wyrran and Deirdre’s Warriors.”
“Then go looking for wyrran. If you need to ease the lust for battle, they are the perfect targets.”
Ian smirked and began the long journey back to his cave. Not even his wet kilt that began to ice over could distract him. “Ah, that’s a tempting thought. Verra tempting indeed.”
“It could be the answer. You know as well as I that our gods need battle. It helps to control their desire for death.”
Ian’s god, Farmire, was the father of battle. His desire to fight, to end someone’s life, was very strong and only grew stronger each day Ian suppressed him.
“Inside Cairn Toul we had Deirdre’s Warriors to fight. At MacLeod Castle, there were wyrran and others who sided with Deirdre.”
“Aye,” Ian murmured.
All Duncan said was the truth. Maybe he did need to find wyrran to battle, but that meant letting Deirdre know he was no longer with the MacLeods. Except for all he knew, she had been the one to pull him into the future.
But why? And where was she? Why hadn’t she come for him yet?
Ian paused when he reached the top of a foothill and stared out over the landscape. The only things breaking up the white of the snow were the boulders sticking out of the ground and the pine trees standing tall and proud.
In the distance, above one of the mountains, there was a break in the dreary gray sky where a shaft of sunlight shove through.
The approaching clouds signaled more snow, but Ian didn’t care. He was in his mountains and had a spectacular view to look at every day
no matter the weather.
He glanced down to the narrow valley below and the loch. Mountains rose steep and colossal on either side. The thick covering of snow hid the treacherous crags and cliff edges, but Ian had never seen anything that could rival the beauty that was Scotland.
Reluctantly, Ian turned away and continued on to his cave. His mind was clear for the moment, and it allowed him to think on Duncan’s words.
Should he go in search of wyrran? Ian knew he’d like nothing better than to kill the diminutive, hairless, yellow creatures created by Deirdre.
They did Deirdre’s bidding without question, and they were rarely seen alone. They traveled in packs. Or at least they used to.
Many things could have changed since he’d been at MacLeod Castle. He no longer knew Deirdre’s whereabouts or what her next plan of attack was. Nor did he know how his fellow Warriors fared.
But if there was one thing Ian could be sure of, it was that Deirdre would still be hunting Druids. Those Druids supplied Deirdre’s ever-growing black magic. And the more powerful Deirdre was, the harder she was to kill.
It was why Ian and the others at the castle had vowed to protect all Druids, mie and drough alike. Scotland had magic in her soil, and the only ones who could feel it, use it, were the Druids.
Without the Druids, the magic would die. And Ian didn’t want to think about how that would affect his beloved land.
He walked into his cave and down the narrow entrance until it opened to the large space he called his. Ian glanced down at his hand, remembering the last time he had severed a wyrran’s head from its body.
It had felt good to destroy something so evil. It had felt right.
CHAPTER
FIVE
Danielle stumbled in the snow. She had been fighting to keep on her feet for hours, but this time, she didn’t bother. She turned as she fell and lay on her back in the snow.
When the sun had crested the mountains that morning, she had seen just where she was. And it terrified her. She was deep in the mountains.
With no roads or towns in sight. She kept telling herself she’d find something over the next rise, but every time there was nothing.