Dark Warrior [5] Midnight's Kiss

by Donna Grant

  He relaxed, and they released him. Arran turned his attention to the prisoner.

  “Whoever made you must have great power,” Charon said to the Warrior.

  The Warrior shrugged as best he could, considering Hayden and Ian held him by his arms. “Oh, aye. He does.”

  “He,” Logan said with a sly grin.

  The Warrior’s grin faded. “What of it?”

  Charon walked in front of the Warrior and then turned and did it again. “Does this Druid have many Warriors?”

  “Some.”

  “Some,” Charon repeated, and glanced at Arran. “This Druid considers himself verra powerful, does he no’?”

  “Oh, aye. Verra. He is. I’ve seen his magic.”

  “Do you know there are two different kinds of Druids?”

  Arran bit back his sneer as he realized Charon was putting the Warrior at ease answering mundane questions.

  The Warrior gave a quick shake of his head. “I recall something about that. No’ that it matters.”

  “It should, but we’ll get back to that later. Did this Druid tell you the story of how the first Warriors were created?”

  “I doona give a shit about that. Look at me! I’m a god!”

  Charon paused in his pacing and raised a dark brow. Strands of his hair had come loose from the queue, and anyone who didn’t know him might not see the anger simmering just below the surface as he smiled easily. “You have a god inside you. It’s two different things.”

  “No’ to my way of thinking.”

  “This Druid who unleashed your god, has he shared his plans with you?”

  The Warrior shook his head. “Nay. He tells us some, but I doona ask a lot of questions.”

  “Where does he conduct his magic and unbind the gods? A warehouse in Glasgow maybe?”

  “His home, of course.”

  Arran had to keep still as Charon got more information than any before him. There was no denying Charon’s skill. It made Arran rethink how he’d always thought Charon foolish for returning to the village he’d grown up in.

  “How many Druids does he have?” Charon asked.

  The Warrior hooted. “More than ever come around the house. There are a couple I’d like to warm my bed.”

  “I’m sure,” Charon said, his lips flattening. “So, does Jason Wallace have a specific interest in Ronnie? Or does he want her just because she’s a Druid?”

  “Jason told us that he needs her because there’s a possibility she can find magical artifacts.” As soon as the words left the Warrior’s mouth, he gave a great roar and tried to yank free. “You bastard!”

  Charon smiled coldly. “Intelligence is clearly something you need to master.”

  Arran took a step toward the Warrior when he screamed in pain. Arran stopped and watched as the Warrior’s chest suddenly split open and his heart erupted for all to see.

  Hayden released the now dead Warrior to watch him fall to the ground. “Fascinating.”

  “You could say that,” Fallon said.

  Arran looked around. “I need to make sure Ronnie is all right.”

  “Larena is with her,” Quinn said.

  But Arran ignored him. “Broc, can you find Larena and make sure she and Ronnie are all right?”

  With a nod, Broc closed his eyes and used the power of his god to locate Ronnie. It took just a few seconds before his eyes snapped open. “Ronnie is with a drough and a Warrior.”

  Fallon pushed past his brothers and stood before Broc, panic in his green eyes. “Where is Larena? Where is my wife, Broc?”

  Once more Broc searched, and this time when he opened his eyes, there was sadness there. “She’s here, but injured. Follow me.”

  Logan and Hayden stayed behind to guard Gwynn while the rest of them raced after Broc. Arran came to a halt as Fallon let out a bellow and fell to his knees beside Larena’s unmoving form.

  Fallon said not a word to any of them as he gathered Larena in his arms and teleported to the castle.

  Arran had seen the bullet hole in Larena’s back. There wasn’t much blood, but there didn’t need to be if the bullets used were X90s.

  How long had Larena been lying here injured? How long had Ronnie been gone?

  Arran turned to Lucan and Quinn. “Your brother is going to need you. Go to him.”

  “What are you going to do?” Lucan asked.

  Arran looked into the distance, a great, voracious hole opening in his chest where his heart had once been, knowing Ronnie was in enemy hands. “I’m going to find Ronnie.”

  “No’ without me,” Charon said.

  Phelan nodded with a cruel twist of his lips. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a good fight. I’ll go. Besides, you arses will no doubt need the power of my god.”

  “I’m going, too,” Ian said.

  Malcolm gave a nod, and that’s all Arran needed to know he could count on the Warrior.

  “We’ll need Ramsey,” Ian said. “If Jason is anything like Declan, Ramsey will be a huge boon.”

  Arran wanted Jason dead by any means necessary. And if it meant allowing one of his friends to kill the bastard, then Arran would do it.

  “Call Ramsey and see if he’s in,” Arran said, and started toward the parking area.

  A form suddenly blocked his way. He looked into the green eyes of Quinn MacLeod.

  “You had my back in the bowels of Deirdre’s mountain, Arran. I’ll no’ desert you now.”

  Arran was honored by Quinn’s words. “I know if I asked, you’d come.”

  “You doona have to ask.”

  “Your brother is going to need you. Larena didna look good. We can handle Jason.”

  Broc sighed loudly. “I agree with him, Quinn. You and Lucan need to go to Fallon. The rest of us will go after Jason.”

  Arran looked at Broc, Galen, and Camdyn. Before he could say anything, Logan, Gwynn, and Hayden walked up.

  “Count me and Logan in,” Hayden said.

  Arran looked at each of the men who had become brothers to him. “Thank you.”

  “We’re family. Did you think we wouldna be here for you?” Ian said, and punched him in the arm.

  Broc’s lips tightened for a moment before he and said, “Ronnie is with Dale. They’re on the road going north.”

  “To Wallace’s mansion, no doubt,” Logan said with a growl.

  Arran saw how Gwynn took Logan’s hand. Both she and Logan had barely come out of the Wallace mansion alive. That was before they’d killed Declan.

  It was time to kill another evil.

  And Arran was more than looking forward to it.

  “Hold on, Ronnie. I’m coming,” Arran whispered.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Fallon teleported to his and Larena’s bedroom, bellowing for Sonya as soon as he arrived at the castle. Larena’s motionless form reminded him all too vividly of holding her four hundred years earlier, after she’d been stabbed with drough blood and nearly died.

  It was a much more massive amount of drough blood in her then, which was the only reason he hadn’t totally lost his calm.

  Yet, he wasn’t ready to release her when Sonya threw open the heavy oak door and gasped.

  “What happened?” Sonya asked as she hurried toward them.

  Fallon briefly noticed the other Druids venturing into his chamber. He swallowed and looked at Larena’s pale face. “She’s been shot in the back.”

  There was no need to tell Sonya the bullet fired was an X90. The fact Larena wasn’t moving proved the situation was critical.

  “Lay her down, Fallon.”

  Sonya’s voice was soft, her amber eyes patient as she waited for him to do as she asked. Fallon could feel how slow Larena’s breathing was. He was afraid to let go of her.

  “I can no’ lose her.”

  Ramsey touched his arm. “Then let Sonya do what she can.”

  Fallon had watched Sonya use her magic to heal many of them struck down with drough blood, including Laren
a.

  He gently laid his wife on the bed before turning her onto her stomach so Sonya could get to the wound. Fallon moved a strand of Larena’s golden hair out of her face and noticed the blood that stained his hands.

  “Here,” Tara said.

  Fallon looked to find a damp towel held out to him. He absently took it, and quickly turned to watch Sonya. She smoothed back her red curls and took a deep breath. Then her hands were held palm down over Larena’s wound as she whispered words as ancient as the Druids themselves.

  Sweat beaded Sonya’s brow and dampened her hair as she continued to pour magic into Larena, yet the bullet hadn’t exited her body. Marcail, Cara, Isla, and Reaghan soon joined their magic with Sonya’s.

  Though they didn’t have healing magic, their magic could boost Sonya’s. It wasn’t long before Dani, Saffron, Tara, and Ramsey also combined their magic with the others’.

  And still the bullet wouldn’t be removed.

  “It’s lodged in her spine,” Sonya said, though she didn’t open her eyes.

  Fallon dropped to his knees and took Larena’s hand. “Fight,” he whispered near her ear. “Fight to live, Larena. You’ve survived this once. You can again.”

  His heart pounded like a drum in his chest. His blood was like ice in his veins. He’d always thought himself lucky because he never had to worry about Larena dying.

  She was a Warrior, immortal and powerful just as he was.

  Yet, here he was, on his knees praying God would hear him and spare his wife. He prayed the Druids’ magic would be strong enough to help, because he couldn’t live without her.

  “This bullet is different,” Isla said, her ice blue eyes filled with unease.

  Fallon squeezed Larena’s hand. “Come on, baby. Come back to me. We’re supposed to start a family soon, remember. I promised you. And I never go back on my promises.”

  Sonya sighed and dropped her arms. Her eyes opened and a tear fell down her cheek. “The X90 has to come out or it’ll continue to leak drough blood inside her.”

  “I know,” Fallon said roughly. “What are you waiting for?”

  “My magic isn’t affecting it. I’m going to have to go in and get it out myself.”

  Fallon shook his head. “Nay. I’ll do it.”

  He rose to his feet and sank onto the bed beside Larena. Her wound had begun to turn black at the edges. Fallon lengthened his claws and sliced her back so that the injury was larger.

  Then he used his claws to tenderly pull apart her skin until he could see the bullet. It was lodged among her vertebrae, just as Isla had said.

  If he could get the X90 out, then Larena had a chance for her goddess to heal her. Twice he scraped the bullet with his claws, but he couldn’t get a hold of it.

  “Use these,” Cara said as she handed him tweezers.

  They were small, and his large fingers had a hard time controlling them. But he gave them a try. Once his claws retreated, he managed to get the tweezers around the bullet.

  After four attempts, he was about to give up when Isla put a hand on his arm.

  “Give it one more try,” she said.

  Fallon glanced at her before he inhaled deeply. He focused on the bullet and waited until he had the tweezers firmly around it before he moved his hand slowly side to side, dislodging the cartridge.

  He blinked away the sweat that fell into his eyes. Even when the bullet began to move, he didn’t smile with joy. He wouldn’t smile again until Larena opened her smoky blue eyes and looked at him.

  The tweezers began to slide off the bullet, so Fallon eased his grip and tried again. It was a painstaking process, and the longer he took, the closer to death Larena got.

  “She’s not breathing,” Dani said.

  Fallon’s heart fell to his feet. He growled and tossed the tweezers aside. “Forgive me, my love,” he whispered before he pushed his hand into Larena’s wound and grasped the bullet with his fingers.

  He got a good hold of it, and with a snarl, yanked the offensive object out. Fallon threw it to the floor, and with blinding speed extended a black claw and sliced open his arm. He let blood pour from his wound into the hole in Larena’s back left by the bullet.

  “We’re going to need more,” Sonya said softly.

  Ramsey didn’t say a word as he cut his arm and gave his blood. He nodded to Fallon.

  Fallon didn’t want to take the time to get his brothers, even if it was just a few seconds. He also didn’t want to leave Larena. But if he didn’t do something to save his wife, she would be gone forever.

  He clenched his hands and waited until the last bit of his blood fell into her wound before his cut healed. Without a word, he jumped to the dig site.

  Quinn, Lucan, and Gwynn stood in a small huddle as the rain drenched them. Fallon didn’t give them time to ask questions as he teleported them back to the castle and into his chamber.

  “Holy hell,” Quinn said as he took sight of Larena.

  Fallon went back to his spot by the bed and cut his arm once more for his wife. Lucan moved beside him and slashed his arm and let the blood fill Larena’s wound.

  Quinn took the other side of the bed near Marcail and Ramsey and did the same. Again and again the four Warriors gave their blood to Larena.

  Each second that ticked by on the clock with Larena still not stirring made Fallon’s gut clench with dread.

  Even the Druids had taken their places around the bed once more, their magic filling the chamber until it fairly hummed.

  And still nothing.

  Fallon’s throat closed as he stared at Larena’s lifeless body. “Nay!” he shouted, and gathered her close. He ignored the arms that grabbed him, and held her even tighter.

  “Please,” he whispered. “Larena, live. Please, live.”

  He cradled the back of her head in his hands and rocked her. Memories flashed through his mind of their four hundred years together. The laughter, the tears, the fights, the teasing, and even the battles they’d fought to save the world.

  At every turn, Larena had been there with him. She’d encouraged him, loved him. Made him a better man.

  The thought of not having her in his life seemed … wrong.

  “I can no’ lose you,” he said through his tears.

  * * *

  Quinn leaned his head back against the stones of the corridor and sighed. Fallon had been alone in his chamber with Larena for over two hours.

  “I doona understand,” Lucan said.

  Quinn looked at his brother, who was squatting across the hall from him, his head in his hands.

  “What was different about these X90s that could cause such damage?” Lucan lifted his head, his green eyes troubled.

  Isla held up the crushed metal bullet. “The amount of drough blood that was contained doesn’t seem to be different. It appears that it’s the bullet itself. Or, rather, the magic surrounding it.”

  Ramsey grunted. “It’s the magic.”

  “The only one who used those damned bullets was Declan. It makes sense that Jason could’ve altered them,” Quinn said.

  Lucan stood and pulled Cara into his arms. He ran his hands down Cara’s chestnut tresses. “We’ve always gone into battle knowing drough blood could kill us. We battled Declan and his mercenaries, and won.”

  “You aren’t going to give up, Lucan MacLeod,” Cara said as she looked up at him. Her mahogany eyes, filled with love and concern, were locked on him. “You’re a Warrior. For whatever reason, Fate gifted you with a god inside you. If it wasn’t for you and the other Warriors, Deirdre would’ve ruled the world long ago.”

  Marcail nodded her head of sable hair and threaded her fingers with Quinn’s. “Cara’s right. Aye, I fear every time you leave for battle that it might be the last time I see you. As much as I’d love to keep you beside me always, if it wasn’t for you Warriors, I wouldn’t have a world to live in.”

  Tara didn’t say anything as she rested her head on Ramsey’s chest. They’d been through it all just the y
ear before.

  “After all that happened when I lost my magic,” Sonya said with a shake of her head as she swiped at her eyes. “Even the combined magic of all of us couldn’t save Larena.”

  Isla picked at a fingernail. “Arran and the others are going to need all three of you MacLeod brothers as well as Ramsey.”

  Quinn glanced at the door leading into Fallon’s room. “Fallon willna leave Larena. He pulled himself out of the despair after Deirdre unbound our god, but I fear this time we’ll lose him forever.”

  “I refuse to even consider that,” Lucan said. “Every one of us here—Warrior and Druid alike—needs Fallon. We’re a family, and we’ll do what a family has to.”

  Quinn glanced at his brother as he recalled it had been Lucan who held the brothers together during their darkest hours. “We hold strong.”

  “We hold strong,” Lucan repeated through the sadness that had descended over the castle.

  Gwynn cleared her throat, her arms crossed over her chest. Her violet eyes touched on each of them. “Fallon lost Larena. If y’all don’t get him to the Wallace mansion, he won’t be the only Warrior to lose the woman he loves.”

  “She’s right,” Saffron agreed. “Ronnie and Arran are meant to be together, even if they don’t know it yet.”

  Quinn kissed the top of Marcail’s head. “He’ll know it soon. Sometimes it takes almost losing our women to make us realize we need them.”

  “If Fallon doesna come out, we must leave immediately to get to the mansion in time,” Ramsey said, and ran a hand through his long black hair.

  With a nod, Quinn and Lucan entered Fallon’s chamber and silently closed the door behind them.

  The eldest MacLeod—who had overcome being a drunk, who had been trained to lead a clan, who had become a great man—sat upon his bed holding his dead wife.

  Quinn blinked away the moisture that filled his eyes. Larena had been special, not because she was the only female Warrior. But because she had been the one to steady Fallon. She’d been the one who stood beside him through it all.

  “Damn,” Lucan muttered and looked at the floor.

  Quinn took a deep breath and tried to find the words to speak. They might have won against Deirdre and Declan, but they had lost people.