Drustan watched as the colors in the witch’s form faded to gray, then white, then to nothing. Gone from this plane of existence. Could she read the truth in his words? He’d had no reason to lie.
“Hello.” The small voice came from the archway that led back to the kitchens. Josiah, the little boy Tenebris had saved from drowning, stood just outside the shadows.
“Hello,” Drustan replied, his hands linked behind his back. He’d learned that people were less likely to touch him if his hands were hidden from sight.
“Don’t get too close to Mr. MacDruce, Josiah,” Helen said as she swooped in with another tray of pewter goblets and sparkling wine glasses. Her gaze connected with Drustan’s as if reminding him that the boy could be hurt, which of course he knew. How could he not know? Even with the buffer he placed around himself, the boy could feel ill. Drustan’s lips pinched together, and he turned back to the fire to watch the flames twist like the dancing bodies of tortured beasts.
“I won’t,” Josiah said. His quick footsteps clipped across the room and stopped beside Drustan. “Mr. MacDruce?”
Drustan kept his face neutral. He’d found it best not to encourage friendship as it could lead to a disastrous ending. “Yes?”
“Is your wolf still nearby?”
“Yes.”
“Do ye think, I mean, well could I maybe ride him again? Into town or near the celebration?”
“Tenebris is not a pony, Josiah. He’s a wild animal.” Wild yet loyal despite Drustan being a monster. “Wolves are vicious and usually hungry. You would do well to stay away from them, all of them.”
“Yer wolf is different. He saved me.”
“I told him to.”
The boy paused in thought, then his eyes narrowed slightly as determination made him look older. “Can ye tell him to let me ride him? Just once more?”
Drustan let his magic engulf the boy’s mind. Visions of the older children, a red-haired boy with a sneer across his face in particular, played through Josiah’s thoughts. They didn’t believe that he’d ridden a wolf. Josiah felt like an outcast. He was without a father or champion. He hadn’t grown broad or tall yet and tended to trip whenever he joined in the games with the other kids. Some would laugh. Others would shake their heads in pity at his failures. Those were the worst.
Drustan felt the disease of inadequacy settle in his chest. The boy looked at him with warm brown eyes. They might as well have been dark blue, a mirror of his own tortured youth. “One ride won’t change things for long,” Drustan said. “If anything, they will just fear you.” Hadn’t that happened when Drustan had tried to shut off the teasing in the orphanage by shoving things around the room with his mind? He shook his head.
“I want them to fear me,” Josiah said and exhaled long. “They think I’m weak, small and worthless.”
“Are they right?” Drustan asked.
Josiah nodded and looked down at his shoes.
Drustan tucked his hands behind him so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch the boy’s head. “You are small still. You can’t change that except by eating well. Meat, eggs, cheese along with lots of greens.”
Several people walked into the great hall, chatting, but he and Josiah were tucked back by the hearth. He motioned for the boy to take a seat in one of the chairs to the side and he did.
“But there are many men of small stature who are strong, both with the sword and with their minds. They are quicker on their feet than a tall, lumbering man. Your chief said he would start teaching you.”
Josiah nodded, but disappointment made his face sag.
“And no one is worthless unless they think they are and do nothing about it. Since you think you are, you must do something about it.”
“What can I do?” Josiah asked.
“Find something you like to do. Make it useful to your family or the clan. You will have a purpose. It helps ease the pain of not being what you wish to be.”
The boy sat quietly, Drustan’s words churning in his mind. Drustan followed his thoughts. The boy could draw and loved music. Josiah glanced over where the quartet had left their instruments. “I can follow any drum beat, repeat it perfectly.” He looked to Drustan.
Drustan nodded. It was a start. “Every battle requires a strong beat to lead the men, keep their hearts moving forward as one, bent on a single purpose. We must find you something on which to practice.”
Josiah hopped out of the chair. “I have an old round drum and two smaller ones. They were my father’s.”
Perhaps the boy had a natural inclination toward music. “Begin to practice every day,” Drustan advised. “With both the drums and the sword, and eat well. Having a plan for moving toward better circumstances will keep you going even on dark days.”
Josiah nodded solemnly, but spirit lifted his features. Once he grew, the boy would be handsome and no doubt attract his share of females. But for now, he felt overlooked except to be called out by cruelty.
“Are ye coming to the celebration?” Josiah asked as he turned toward the entryway.
“It is not safe for me to be in close contact with people.”
Josiah nodded grimly, a bit of admiration in his young face. He felt that Drustan’s power made him a dangerous weapon, safe from everything. In actuality, the curse that Drustan endured kept him alone and powerless to change his circumstances. Warm eyes of green flashed into his mind. Could one woman change that?
Josiah thanked him and ran out of the hall. He stopped at the dark entryway to dodge around someone coming in. Drustan’s thoughts of Anna solidified into her person as she walked across the great hall, her gaze centered first on the alcove where he’d been shadowed. Was she looking for him? Doubtful, but when she saw him, she strode over.
“Aren’t you coming out to the feast?”
Anna stopped several strides away, beautiful in all her lovely iciness, a frosty queen. Yet the warmth in her eyes gave away the kindness in her soul. She must pity him. The thought tightened his mouth, though he could hardly blame her for it.
Drustan returned his face to the hot prickle of the heat against his cheeks. “I am too dangerous to be among people, especially those who imbibe to the point of possibly falling against me no matter how careful I am.”
“Don’t you have a shield of some sort, to keep people from coming too close?” she asked. Her voice contained only curiosity, no pity.
He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, but it requires energy and if I become distracted, it could falter.” It had been the only thing that allowed him to stay at the orphanage after Sister Josephine died. He’d locked himself away, knowing that her illness had been entirely his fault, his evil soul poisoning her. So he’d stayed in his room until he’d taught himself how to erect an invisible shield of sorts.
“It is best that I remain away.” He gave her a grin but didn’t bother to make it genuine. Anna was kind, but he wouldn’t have her company because she pitied him.
She took a step closer and his grin faded. Another step and he lowered his arms to lay against the wall at his back. “You can’t harm me,” she whispered.
“Apparently not.”
She stepped in front of him, and he felt almost caged. “What if I accompany you to the feast?” she asked.
One of his eyebrows rose. “Unless you are willing to stay in constant contact with me, it would be dangerous to your new family. Do you have a set of manacles in your gown?”
“William’s man couldn’t find any,” she said, the merest hint of a smile playing around her full pink lips.
“I’m certain a large castle like Kylkern could cough up some restraints,” he said.
“How about you just…hold my hand,” she said and extended her slender fingers out to him.
“Hold your hand?”
She flipped the extended hand as she said, “Yes, you know, hands grasped together. Fingers intertwined, or not.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter which.
“Intertwined would be sa
fer, more firmly attached,” he said and grabbed her hand as she began to retract it. The contact jolted through him, not on some magical level but on a human one. Drustan had experienced such limited contact that the warmth and softness of her hand almost made his knees buckle. Human contact. The sensation was amazing. Her little fingers slid along his, tickling, one against one as they formed a solid, interlocking clasp.
“There,” she said. “As ironclad as any manacle in Kylkern’s dungeon.”
“And when we eat?” he asked as he let her lead him across the hall.
“I will swing my leg around yours under the table,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“Rumors will fly,” he warned, though his chest felt more open, and he breathed fully of the cool autumn air as they stepped out onto the steps.
She snorted though her back straightened even more. “In London it has been whispered that I am everything from a man in disguise to a Satan-worshipping witch. Rumors are but mist and foul air that I easily ignore.” Her words were light, but something in the tone made Drustan think that they weren’t completely accurate.
The wedding celebration took up the entire bailey and spilled out of the gates into the trampled grass and the last of the summer wildflowers still encircling the thick granite walls. Tables had been set up and people sat along them laughing and eating together. Breads of many textures and shapes moved on flat wooden trenchers from person to person. Crofts of creamy butter sat at intervals. Cured pork, venison pies, and platters of roast goose were passed along each table, and maids brought around the tankards that had been filled inside.
Anna led them along the outskirts of the celebration toward her sister while holding tightly to his hand. Drustan mentally forced his shoulders to relax. He wasn’t used to being in such close proximity to people. As they stopped near the bride and groom, William Maclean met Drustan’s gaze.
The chief did not look surprised. Had he sent Anna to find their most dangerous guest? Make sure he wasn’t getting into trouble? With Anna’s hand in his, Drustan couldn’t be sure. “Must I send Hamish for handcuffs?” William asked.
“I believe this manacle will do,” Anna said, raising their joined hands, the open gesture helping him to push away his grim thoughts.
Patricia giggled and took a sip of wine. Drustan leaned closer toward Anna’s ear and her floral scent assailed him. “I told you rumors would start.”
“Certainly handcuffs would garner more,” she said and dropped their joined hands between them. Her cheeks pinkened and she quickly sat, tugging him with her.
Just as she suggested, Anna wrapped one ankle around his foot and disentangled his fingers. She reached for a rye brown roll as the basket passed as if nothing were unusual about the peculiar arrangement. The brush of her skirts and the gentle warmth permeating through Anna’s stocking against his clothed leg were so distracting that Drustan dropped his roll. Perhaps he should tell her he must touch her bare skin, even though the press of her stocking-clad leg muted his abilities to read the surrounding people. The thought sent a surge toward his groin.
“Do you not want any?” Anna asked.
He definitely wanted some of whatever Anna was offering. He shifted in his seat. “Pardon?”
She held a small platter of sliced poultry. “It’s wild goose.”
“Certainly, of course,” he said and took the platter from her grasp.
Anna’s head tilted, releasing a perfect curl to slide against her cheek. “What were you thinking just now?”
How I wish to stroke your warm, bare skin. “How quiet it is,” he said, and gripped the platter tightly. He slid some of the moist goose onto his plate.
She glanced around with wide eyes. “It’s nearly deafening.”
“In my mind,” he said. “With your touch, I don’t have a hundred thoughts and even more emotions to block out.”
She studied him. “That must be exhausting.”
“Why living in a tree away from civilization makes sense,” he said and bit into the goose.
She watched him chew and then lowered her gaze to her own plate. “Society is exhausting even without your powers. Perhaps I should find a tree house, too.”
Mine is plenty big for the two of us, sat on the tip of his tongue. But he held it there, tied and gagged.
“What a fabulous feast,” Matilda said and sat down on the other side of Drustan. He schooled himself not to flinch away. Anna must have picked up on his nervousness as her leg tightened, pulling his ankle closer.
“I helped dress the goose,” Alicia said from across the table and beamed.
Drustan took a bite of the well-seasoned bird and nodded. “Delicious.” The girl blushed but smiled broader. Somehow his opinion seemed important to her. “What seasonings did you use? Thyme for certain.”
Alicia then described each of the herbs she found in the gardens and how she used it on the bird, with Cook’s approval of course.
“Excellent combination,” Drustan said and meant it. He sampled the rolls, pork, pie, and sugared fruits.
Alicia watched him on and off through the meal. With Anna’s touch, he couldn’t read the young girl’s mind but it was obvious she was thrilled each time he commented on the deliciousness of the fare. Conversation moved around him and without the constant need to block thoughts, emotions and possible wayward touches, Drustan found himself enjoying the party.
He took several more sips of his ale, enjoying the different pitches of laughter in the bailey. It was like a song really, free and genuine, nothing like the grating and acerbic laughter he’d heard within the circle of his bound brethren.
“So you live alone,” Anna said. She looked at her nearly empty plate.
“Yes, in my tree, quite comfortably,” he added so there was no need for pity.
“But those…” she started, trailing off. “They visit you.”
“Demons,” he supplied. “Twelve demons and one wizard who summonded them from Hell.” He took up his goblet and noticed that all conversation within earshot had stopped. “And yes, they check in on me.”
“Are they your family?” Alicia asked.
“Hush,” Matilda said next to her.
“My family? No. My parents are dead, my sisters scattered. Only one of my sisters is alive in this time period.”
“Kailin Black,” William said from his end of the table, pulling Drustan’s gaze.
“Yes.”
“She is a close friend to us,” William continued. “Very powerful, too. She warned us of you.”
“I don’t think this is party conversation,” Patricia said with a hand on her new husband’s arm. Her eyes appeared large and soft, like they held an apology as she gazed at Drustan. How strange that she would worry about him.
“My sister is prudent,” Drustan offered. “She saw what my touch could do and has no way of knowing that I’ve learned some ways to protect those around me.” He took another sip as everyone seemed to wait.
“How does one become familiar with demons?” Anna asked.
“Anna!” Patricia said.
“I mean,” Anna continued, “I’ve lived my whole life without ever seeing even a glimpse of one and you’ve been living with twelve plus a dark warlock your entire life.”
Patricia dropped her forehead into her hands. “My sister prefers to ask inappropriate questions. One would surmise that she never has a care for congenial topics.”
Anna pointed toward the sun-filled sky. “No one really wants to discuss the weather, Patricia. And now that I’ve married you off to the love of your life, I have less need to restrain myself for fear of chasing off possible future relations.”
Matilda covered a laugh with a fabricated cough that came out more like a snort, while Patricia shook her head that still sat in her cupped hands. William gathered her closer with an arm around her shoulders. He whispered something to her that made her smile.
Alicia nodded vigorously across the table. “Mr. MacDruce is much more interesting than the
weather.”
Matilda knocked her with her elbow.
“Forgive my sister,” Patricia said, though her frown had dissipated. “She has an inquisitive mind and a quick tongue.”
Quick tongue? The thought teased the vision Drustan was trying to keep from his mind, one of Anna naked before him. He glanced down at his plate.
“See, you’ve embarrassed him,” Patricia said.
Drustan looked back up. “I’m sure that her inquisitive mind makes her a skilled doctor. And her courage to ask important questions serves her patients well.” A long pause followed.
“So how did you end up acquainted with Hell-spawn?” Anna said. Patricia groaned and picked up her wine goblet.
Drustan did the same and took a sip of the fine amber drink. All eyes remained on him as he set the goblet down. “The Silver Witch tried to kill me in my cradle when I was six days old.”
Patricia gasped, her hand going to her mouth. Alicia’s fork clinked against the china of her plate.
“Drakkina?” William asked, his face darkening.
“Yes. She had seen ominous prophecies about me and felt it was better to rid the world of me before I could do any harm. Lucky for me and possibly unfortunate for the world, even at six days old I was stronger than she.”
Alicia’s eyes had grown to full moons. Drustan looked instead to William. How would he judge the truth?
“When she realized she could not kill me, she threw me out into time, perhaps for me to become lost, perhaps so she could hunt me down later. However, due to her fouled attempt, she splintered two of the demons off. Still bound together, the two followed me to this century. The rest found us easily and the coven has remained close to me ever since.”
“Do they make your touch so deadly?” Matilda asked as she held her sister’s hand on the table.
Was he frightening all of them? His stomach tensed. “I do everything I can not to harm anyone,” he said in a low voice.
Sacrifice Page 12