by Meg Anne
With her grandmother’s scarf still clutched in her left hand, and the question blazing across her mind, Skye took a deep breath and drew a card.
The Eight of Cups. Walking away and leaving something behind. She sat down on the bed. Hard. Her heart pounded as her lower lip began to tremble. No.
She couldn’t accept that. They needed her, she couldn’t leave them. What will happen if I don’t? She flipped another card. The Ten of Swords. Defeat.
A tear slipped down her cheek as she pulled one final card. What will happen if I do? Three of Swords.
Grief.
Suffering.
Heartbreak.
Anguish tightened a vise around her heart. Skye curled up into a ball, pressing her grandmother’s scarf to her mouth to muffle her sobs.
Chapter 13
Lucas
Lucas plunged his hands back into the sink full of soapy water and cursed to himself for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
He never should have let her do that reading on him. They were just fucking cards; cards with pictures rather than the Aces, Jacks, Queens, and Kings he was used to. Nope, nothing special about them. So why in the hell couldn’t he get the reading out of his head?
Honestly, it seemed like everyone had been on edge since Skye had read for them. Even Lizzie, who had gotten a much more pleasant reading, had been uncharacteristically quiet through dinner.
Skye had barely said a damn word.
The bowl he was washing slipped from his hand and back into the water, splashing him with suds. “Fuck!”
He braced both hands on either side of the sink and hung his head low. Chaos, anger, domination, fear of losing one's self. All of those things had been fairly accurate. As had the wand card—or whatever it was—that Skye said represented the last stand.
They all knew that there would be a winner takes all battle against this Druid—no surprises there—but the cards had done nothing but make him even more anxious for what was to come.
He sure as hell didn’t feel any better about it now.
“You okay?”
Lucas turned to see Skye standing in the doorway. Her eyes were red, making him wonder if she’d been crying.
“Yeah, bowl slipped and splashed me.”
She nodded but didn't say anything, so Lucas went back to washing. “You okay?” He repeated her question back to her, but when she didn't respond, he glanced back up. She stared at him, unwavering, amber eyes aimed directly at his own.
“Skye?” The unwavering attention was unusual enough that he grabbed a dish towel and dried his hands, leaving the rest of the dishes for later.
“We don’t have much time,” she finally said. Her voice was free of inflection; she could have been talking about the weather for all of the passion behind the words, but she still stared at him expectantly, as if the words held special significance.
Lucas leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”
Skye sighed, her shoulders slumping with defeat. “Before everything comes crashing down on us. He’s coming, Lucas, and he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”
“You’re wrong.” Lucas straightened and walked over to her. “We won’t stop until we get what we want. He is not going to win. We’re not going to let him.”
She shook her head, her dark hair sliding across her shoulders with the movement. “You don’t know that.”
“Come on, Skye. We’ve come this far, don’t lose hope on me now.” He ran his hands up and down her arms, trying to ease the worry from her face.
Skye lifted her face up to his. “I don’t want to waste any more time.”
Her words sent heat through his veins. Was she talking about them? “I didn't think we were wasting any. We’ve been spending nearly every waking moment researching.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
She glanced down at his mouth and then back up to his eyes. She pulled her bottom lip in and chewed on it. Fuck, I want to do that.
“So… what are you talking about?” he asked, praying that he wasn’t misinterpreting what she was trying to say.
She opened her mouth—
Lizzie screamed, and they both looked toward the living room. The front door flung open so hard it crashed into the wall.
“What the fuck?” Lucas yelled, bolting into the living room with Skye on his heels.
The front door was wide open, so Lucas ran out into the dark as Matthews hauled a man out from the bushes.
“Look familiar to you?” he asked, shoving the man toward Lucas.
The man in question was wearing khakis, a button-down shirt beneath a tweed vest, and thick-rimmed glasses. Lucas definitely recognized him, and from the sound of Skye’s gasp, so did she. The last time they’d seen the man, Skye had fallen right into his lap.
“G-Giles?” she asked, her voice thick with confusion.
Lucas moved, placing himself between Skye and the old man, not wanting the creep’s attention on anyone but him. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice a menacing growl.
The man—Giles—pushed his glasses further up on his nose and straightened the hem of his vest. “If ye put yer hands on me again, I’ll be phoning the authorities.” His voice shook, but he narrowed his moss-green eyes on Matthews.
“You are the one sneaking around in the dark,” Matthews responded, his voice icy. “Back home, not only would that get you arrested, it would provide me with enough probable cause to kick your ass.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Lucas repeated.
Giles shifted his attention to Lucas. “I could ask ye the same question.”
“My grandfather, Oliver MacConnell, owns this place. I have every right to be here.”
He lifted a wiry eyebrow, but didn't question Lucas’ claims. “I look after this place for MacConnell. I wasn’t aware anyone was going to be stayin’ here.”
“Isn't that one hell of a coincidence?” Matthews replied, his voice no friendlier than before. “We just so happen to run into you at the library, and now you show up here with a story about how you watch over the place?”
Giles shot Lucas’ partner an annoyed glare. “It’s hardly a coincidence, since I use the library for my research, and have been tasked with keeping an eye on this place.”
“When’s Pop supposed to be back?”
“Seems strange to me how ye wouldn’t know that, seeing as how you’re the one claiming relation to the man. Why don’t we go inside and I’ll tell ya what I know.”
“I think that’s a damn good idea,” Skye said from the doorway.
Matthews went in first, and Lucas stepped aside so that Giles could follow him. There was no way he was taking his eye off the old man. Once they were all inside, Lucas shut the door. His fingers itched for his weapon, something he’d grudgingly left behind in Chicago. Lucas knew better than to believe in these kinds of coincidences, especially when everything they’d come up against recently had been carefully orchestrated by the Druid.
Who was to say this guy showing up wasn't just another trick?
“Is Giles even your real name?” Lucas asked in the tone he generally reserved for the interrogation room.
The older man took a seat on the couch. Skye and Lizzie both sat across from him, while Lucas and Matthews remained standing. The second the guy stepped out of line, one or both of them would be ready to eliminate the threat.
Looking offended in the way that only an old man could, he straightened his shoulders and replied, “Yes.” At Matthews’ and Lucas’ twin glare, he lost some of his bravado and cleared his throat. “I’m Giles McDuff.”
“Okay, Giles,” Matthews began. “What the hell were you doing sneaking around in the bushes?”
During interrogations, Matthews had always taken the lead while Lucas sat back and waited for his opportunity. He stayed quiet and watched the body language of their perp, looking for anything they could u
se to push him or her further. It was a tag-team effort that had proved more than effective over the years and a routine they fell into seamlessly now.
“I already told you. I came up to check on the place and saw lights on inside.”
“Come on, Giles. We just met, don’t start lying to me already,” Matthews said easily.
“Does this tough guy routine work in America?”
“You’ll excuse us if we are a little on edge,” Skye interjected from the couch. “A strange man sneaking around at night doesn’t breed a sense of security.”
Giles’ eyes softened when he looked from Skye to Lizzie, who stared at him wide-eyed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I do apologize… ‘twas not my intention to frighten you.”
“Then what was your intention?” Lucas asked.
“To see who was in the house and why.”
“We’re here on vacation. Pop lets us use the house whenever we want.”
“Uh-huh. When was the last time ye saw yer grandfather then?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Lucas responded dryly. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?
“I don’t see how it’s not, seeing as I’m taking care of the place.” The man leveled his eyes on Lucas, and they stared at each other, neither one willing to look away.
“When was the last time you spoke with our grandfather?” Lizzie’s voice was steely, but she was still pale.
“Not that long ago, actually.” Giles stood and began pacing around the room. His movements were purposeful, and that made Lucas nervous. He knew when someone was looking for something, and Giles McDuff was definitely casing the room.
He stopped in front of the stack of books they’d gathered to study. Lucas watched, curious as to what his reaction was going to be. Besides, he’d already seen them, no sense in trying to hide them now.
“Interesting reading material ye got here.”
“When in Rome,” Lucas said sarcastically.
Giles turned and raised an eyebrow. “Rome? I think ye’ve got yer geographical locations mixed up, laddy.” He was the only one smiling at his little joke. Unfazed, he continued, “It’s interesting because it just so happens I’m doing my research on the comings and goings of Druids in today's society.”
“Research?” Skye asked.
“For me paper.”
The answer wasn’t particularly illuminating, but that was the least of their worries at the moment.
“Well now, isn’t that another coincidence?” Matthews commented.
“Life is full of them,” Giles responded easily. He continued looking through the stack until his eyes landed on the small black book they hadn’t been able to crack just yet. Lucas’ body tensed and focused on breathing easy so as not to give away how interested he was in the older man’s reaction to that particular book.
“Now, this is an interesting find.” The man began to flip through the pages. “Where’d ye get it?”
“Why don’t you guess?” Skye shot back.
Giles smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t know where to begin.” He turned to the first page and grinned. “But I can absolutely help ye decode the messages inside, if ye wish.”
Skye got to her feet and crossed the room. “You can read that?” She pointed to the book, and Giles nodded.
“I’ve been studying Druids and their magic for decades, lass. Of course I know and recognize the language. What sort of scholar would I be if I didn’t?”
“Why the hell would you help us?”
He shrugged. “You seem like nice enough folks, and this may prove beneficial to my own research as well.”
“And why would we help you? Especially after we caught you sneaking around in the middle of the night?” Matthews asked as he walked over to pluck the journal from Giles’ hands.
“We already covered that, didn’t we?” He balled his wrinkled hands into fists, frustrated at the mistrust. While Lucas couldn’t pinpoint it, there was almost something trustworthy about Giles now that his back wasn’t up in defense. He genuinely wanted to help them, although that probably had more to do with the fact he wanted information himself.
“I’m guessing ye can’t read it, right? Well, I can. So whatever ye need the information for, I can help ye get it.” Giles started toward Lucas and brushed past Skye.
Her eyes widened, and she paled. Lucas reached her just as she crumpled to the ground. There were dark rings beneath her eyes that were much more visible now that her face was leeched of color.
“What’s wrong?” Giles asked, horrified, as he knelt beside them.
Lucas held up a hand to silence him and focused on her face. Her mouth was drawn into a tight line, her eyelids fluttering rapidly. He had no clue what she was Seeing, but he knew it would only end in one way: death.
“I’m going to go lay her down. She’s exhausted.” Lucas lifted Skye and carried her into her room, not wanting to be anywhere near their new guest when she came to.
He covered the distance quickly, his arms tightening when she let out a painful whimper. Lucas swallowed, hating that there was nothing he could do to help her. He kicked the door to her room open and moved toward her bed. Gently, he laid her back on the multicolored quilt. He was gripping her hand when her eyes fluttered open.
“You all right?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Yeah.” She groaned and sat up.
“What did you See?”
“The Druid. He’s coming for Giles.”
His stomach twisted. “When?” he grit out through clenched teeth.
“I don’t know; it was dark, though. And definitely not Chicago.”
“Fuck.” Lucas stood to pace. “So he knows we’re here.”
Skye’s eyes were wide as she watched him. “If he doesn’t yet, he will soon. We knew it was only a matter of time.”
“I guess it’s safe to assume there’s something in that book that can help us then, huh? Since you got that vision right after he offers to help us decode it?”
“I would say so.” She shifted and let her feet hang over the edge of the bed. Lucas winced in sympathy as she pinched the bridge of her nose. He could only imagine how intense a headache those visions must leave.
“Hey.” He walked over and knelt in front of her. “It’s going to be okay.”
She nodded, but he could see the doubt reflected in her eyes. “We need to ward the house.”
Lucas got to his feet, unsure why he hadn't thought of doing that before. Oh, I don't know, probably because you've only been a Druid for a week. “I agree, but not while Giles is here.”
“He’s not working with the Druid, Lucas. I Saw it.”
“I know, but I still don’t care for anyone outside our group knowing that I have magical powers.” He grinned, awaiting her sarcastic response about him not being a wizard, but got nothing. His smile faltered. She was really feeling the strain.
“We’ll get the place warded. For now, we need to find a way to keep him from getting killed.”
Skye got to her feet, but Lucas put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her gently back down. “You’re exhausted.”
She scowled. “We all are.”
“True, but the rest of us don’t have to watch people die or have nightmares that keep us from getting any sleep. Why don’t you rest for a bit and I’ll wake you up if we find anything?”
She hesitated. Was she going to argue? Skye finally nodded and laid back onto the bed. “Don’t leave me out, Lucas. If you find anything, wake me up.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I wouldn't dream of leaving you out of anything.” He leaned a little closer so his mouth was right by her ear and whispered, “And don’t think we won’t be continuing our earlier conversation once you’re feeling better.”
Her eyes were already closed but she was smiling softly when he left the room.
Chapter 14
Lucas
The door shut behind Lucas with a soft click. H
e rested against it, his head hanging down and his eyes closed. It physically hurt him to leave her like that. Another time or place, Lucas would have chased away her demons with searing kisses and body-melting touches. There’d be no room for worry by the time he was done.
She’d been on the brink of giving in while they’d been in the kitchen. Two more seconds, and he’d have had her in his arms on their way to his bedroom. Lucas groaned. Every time he thought he’d finally breached the last of Skye’s walls, some other obstacle got in their way, keeping them apart. His jaw clenched at the reminder that the most recent obstacle was waiting for him in the living room. That sweater vest-wearing bastard better be able to make good on his promise, or Lucas was going to lose it.
He pushed off the door and made his way back into the living room. Matthews stood protectively beside Lizzie, his eyes never straying far from Giles, who sat with the black book in his hands.
Giles glanced up and noticed Lucas. “Is the lass okay?”
Lucas gave a tight nod. “She’ll be fine. She’s resting.” He shot Lizzie and Matthews a purposeful look, letting them know he had something to share once they were alone. Returning his attention back to Giles, he gestured toward the book in his lap. “You decipher it yet?”
The older man scowled. “Ancient Gaelic—in code, mind ye—isn’t like translating Spanish, laddy. But to answer your question, I believe I’ve decoded some, yes.”
“Well, let’s hear it,” he replied, folding his arms.
Giles muttered something indecipherable under his breath and adjusted his glasses. He turned back a few pages, smoothing down the discolored paper a couple of times before reciting, “Leland’s Binding—”
“Who’s Leland?” Lucas interrupted.
Giles looked up in annoyance. “I would assume the one that created the spell. Does it really matter?”
Lucas shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the scholar. Why should we trust anything this Leland has to say?”
Giles sighed. “Leland is the one that created the binding. We cannot assume ‘tis his book. In fact, the notes scrawled in the margins suggest someone wanted to modify this spell.”