by Donna Grant
Arran did a quick glance over his shoulder at Charon. “How is he?”
“My blood seems to be helping. A little. It’s no’ healing him as it should, but it’s doing something. I just doona know for how long.”
Phelan paused as he cut his arm again to use more of his blood in Charon’s wound. His lips were in a tight line and worry lines bracketed his mouth. That in itself made Arran push the car to greater limits. Phelan’s blood always healed instantly. Just what was going on with this drough blood?
First Larena was killed, and now Phelan’s blood couldn’t stop it. Unease churned in Arran’s stomach.
“I’ve been thinking,” Phelan said. “If the evil bastards we keep fighting can have ways to hurt us like the X90s or anything with drough blood, why could we no’ have something as well?”
“Or something that could counter the effects of the drough blood,” Ian said thoughtfully. “That’s a good question.”
Arran weaved his way between cars. His friends were trying to take their minds off the fact Phelan’s blood wasn’t working on Charon.
He sighed and tried to stay calm. Charon couldn’t die. No more Warriors could be lost, no matter what Arran thought of him. “Aye, but one no’ easily answered. We have no idea what it is about drough blood that affects us, nor why the blood of another Warrior helps to counter it.”
“True,” Ian said. “And blood type doesna matter when it comes to us.”
Phelan shrugged, never taking his eyes off Charon. “We’re Warriors. There isna much that does pertain to us as it does mortals.”
They fell into silence as the miles passed. Night had finally fallen, but it wouldn’t last for long. At this time of night the roads were nearly deserted, which allowed Arran and the others to travel as fast as they wanted.
Several times Phelan phoned Lucan and Quinn to see if Fallon had woken. The fact Fallon hadn’t began to worry everyone. First Duncan, and then Larena. Arran was still wrapping his head around Larena’s death. To lose Charon and possibly Fallon as well made Arran want to tear Wallace in half.
They were about an hour from the castle when Broc phoned to say he’d arrived at the castle and was going to bring Sonya to meet them.
Arran was determining the best place to go when Ian’s phone rang, and he motioned for Arran to pull over.
“Fallon’s awake,” Ian said.
Arran put the car in park once he came to a stop. “Stay there,” he told Broc before he disconnected his phone.
A second later, Phelan opened the passenger door as Fallon strode up. Fallon didn’t say a word to any of them as he hefted Charon over his shoulder and was gone in a blink.
Arran got out of the car and walked to the hood where he placed his hands on the metal and hung his head. With Charon now being cared for by the Druids, there was a chance of his survival.
“We need to get back to the castle,” Phelan said.
Arran lifted his head to look at him from across the car as the others walked up. “I have somewhere else to be.”
“Aye, you do,” Fallon said from behind him.
Arran whirled around to find Fallon and Broc. “What do you mean?”
“Ronnie told me she agreed to help Jason because he had Andy.”
Arran slammed his hand against the hood of the car. “I knew Jason used something against her.”
“There was no one in the dungeon,” Camdyn said as he walked up. “No one other than the droughs waiting for us.”
Ian and Galen exchanged looks before Ian said, “We didna get to look in every room, but I didna see anyone other than the droughs.”
“Same here,” Lucan said.
Arran turned to Broc. “Can you find Andy for me?”
Broc closed his eyes, and a few moments later opened them. “Andy is in Glasgow. He’s safe, and trying to find Ronnie.”
“Why did Ronnie think it was Andy?” Arran asked, more to himself than anyone else.
Quinn leaned his hip against the car. “We underestimated Wallace. We thought he would be like Declan and Deirdre. He’s proven he isna. Which means, we have no idea what kind of magic he has, or what that magic is capable of.”
“If he can make someone believe they’re looking at someone else, we’re fucked,” Hayden said.
Logan nodded. “We’ll never know what’s real and what isna.”
“Malcolm was injured as well,” Fallon said into the silence. “Sonya was still healing him when I dropped off Charon. She said there’s something different about this drough blood being used now.”
Phelan crossed his arms over his chest. “I already figured that out.”
“If Jason didna have Andy, then at least we doona have that to worry about,” Ramsey said.
Lucan said, “And Ronnie is free of Jason. How is she faring with the others at the castle, Fallon?”
“She’s no’ at the castle.”
Arran stilled as Fallon’s gaze turned to him. “What do you mean she’s no’ at the castle.” Fallon was his leader, the man he trusted, but when it came to Ronnie, none of that mattered.
“I had to know she wasna working with Jason. Until I did, I wasna going to take her to the castle to possibly harm any of the Druids.”
Arran moved to stand nose to nose with Fallon. He felt the others tense, ready to tear them apart.
“Where. Is. She?” Arran demanded.
Fallon didn’t so much as flinch. His dark green gaze held steady, no emotion showing. “At her dig site. Now can we go?”
Arran caught Broc’s eyes. “Nay, but there is something else I have to do.”
“What is it you need?” Broc asked.
Arran clenched a fist and said, “I need you to find Pete Thornton.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
Arran somehow wasn’t surprised when Broc located Pete in Edinburgh. Fallon jumped them to a secluded alley they often used when coming to the city.
“Where is he?” Arran asked Broc.
Broc’s head turned to the right. “He’s in a warehouse no’ far from here.”
Arran halted the others as they started to follow him. “Pete is mine.”
“Understood,” Phelan said. Then he grinned, but it was full of cruelty and viciousness. “But if he tries to escape, he’s fair game.”
Arran shook his head. “He’s fair game to catch. But I deal with him.”
He said no more as he started jogging in the direction Broc had looked. Broc kept a little in front to lead the way. A few blocks later, Broc pointed to the warehouse, and the group split into different directions.
Arran and Broc continued straight on to the warehouse. Once they reached it, Arran came to a halt near the entrance.
“He’s alone,” Broc said before Arran could ask who else was in the building.
Arran looked at the door. “What floor?”
“Ground level.”
Arran’s god wanted to be released, and it was only by a thin thread of restraint that Arran held him back. He grasped the doorknob, and with one twist, broke it off. He then shoved his shoulder into the door to break past the dead bolt.
“That’s one way of doing it,” Broc said from behind him.
He probably should have been quieter about his entrance, but Arran didn’t want to chance losing control of Memphaea. Not when he needed to confront Pete with a clear head.
* * *
Ronnie had to get in touch with Arran somehow so she could tell him she had to find Andy. Surely Arran would help her in that.
She spent almost two hours scouring the debris of the site, looking for a cell phone. It wasn’t until she went to the vehicles that she got lucky.
Breaking into a car looked a lot easier on television than it actually was. She finally found a large rock and smashed it into the window to get to the phone.
She was punching in Arran’s numbers when she paused. Something told her to try calling Andy. She dialed his phone and licked her lips as it rang.
It was o
n its sixth ring, and she was just about to hang up when she heard, “Hello.”
“Andy?” she asked breathlessly.
“Ronnie. Oh, my God. Is that really you? Are you all right?”
Ronnie slumped against the car and slid to the ground. “Are you with Jason?”
“Jason? Jason who? Never mind. I’m in Glasgow at a pub, wondering why the hell Arran won’t answer his phone.”
She closed her eyes and sighed in relief. “Jason told me he had you. I saw you, Andy. I saw you beat up with all the blood over your face.”
“I’ve got a few scrapes from running away. And I think I might have broken my hand while I was helping this really gorgeous girl get away.”
Ronnie chuckled and leaned her head back against the car. Only Andy would think of women in a time like this. “I hope this chick at least gave you a kiss for such a valiant display.”
“Oh, she did. And much more.”
“I don’t need to know any more,” she hastily told him, but couldn’t hold back her laughter. As her smile faded, anger welled inside her. Jason had tricked her.
She’d given her word and betrayed Arran because of magic. It was then Ronnie knew she had to learn all there was to know of magic quickly.
“Andy, I need you to stay in Glasgow. I’ll contact you as soon as I can. I’ve got a lot I need to fill you in on. Some you won’t believe.”
“Is Arran with you?”
“No.”
Andy sighed. “He told me he’d keep you safe. Did he?”
“Without a doubt,” she whispered.
* * *
Arran stepped into the warehouse to see rows and rows of wide shelving stacked high above them. There was a soft sound, and Arran saw movement at the very top.
Camdyn squatted behind a large wooden crate and peered down at him and Broc.
“To the right,” Broc whispered.
Arran ran on silent feet toward the right. He’d gotten halfway down the huge warehouse when his enhanced hearing picked up a sound. Arran lengthened his strides as he gave a burst of speed and came around a row of shelving to catch a glimpse of Pete between crates stacked haphazardly on the ground.
Fury ripped through Arran. He slowed to a walk, his footsteps as quiet as a ghost’s. As he approached, he saw Pete had a crate open and was sifting through the packing material used to stuff the crate.
Arran still held out hope he was wrong about Pete, even when he knew in his gut he wasn’t. But when Pete held up a cracked trencher to the light behind him, Arran’s suspicions were confirmed.
He stood half in the shadows, half in the light, and simply watched Pete check the contents of the crate. Arran was glad Ronnie wasn’t there to see this. She’d be devastated.
It wasn’t until Pete began to repack the box that Arran said, “Going somewhere?”
Pete’s head snapped up, his eyes searching the darkness in the direction Arran stood. “Who’s there?”
“What amazes me is that you actually thought you could get away with it.”
“Who’s there?” Pete shouted again.
Arran inwardly cheered when he noted the perspiration dotting Pete’s brow and the way his nervousness grew the longer Arran held his silence.
“Dammit. Show yourself!” Pete yelled, and took a step back from the crate to a table behind him.
Arran slowly moved into the light.
Pete’s eyes grew large. “You. What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“I have certain … friends,” Arran said. “I came to retrieve what’s Ronnie’s.”
“She’ll never miss this stuff. I’ve been taking little things from her from the very beginning. If that fool Max had not gotten greedy, Ronnie would’ve never known.”
“She’s always known,” Arran stated calmly. “Always.”
That gave Pete pause, but then his apprehension doubled. “Did Ronnie send you?”
“Does it matter? Make things easy on yourself and return the items. Doona make me take them from you, because you’ll regret it.”
Pete’s arm swung around, and Arran found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol.
“I don’t think so,” Pete said. “I need this money. So I’ve taken a few things. Big deal. Ronnie gets the glory and moves on to another dig.”
“So jealousy prompted this?”
“Not at first. But when my funding dried up and I was being told the money was going to her, what was I supposed to do? Archeology is my life.”
The tide of rage Arran had been holding back broke through. “And you were like a father to her!” He took a step toward Pete. “How could you? How did you even look her in the eye?”
“A man has to do what he has to do,” Pete said, the gun never wavering.
Arran jerked his chin at the weapon. “Go ahead. Shoot. I guarantee you willna leave here alive.”
“You’re not alone?” Pete asked, his brow furrowing.
Arran simply grinned. “Oh, Pete. There is much about me you doona know, but you’re about to find out.”
All around him, Arran could hear the others taking up position. They wouldn’t show themselves unless Arran asked them to. They were there to watch his back.
Arran took another step, quickly closing the distance between him and Pete.
“Stay back,” Pete warned.
He sneered at the gun. “There isna much in this world I fear, and your weapon is certainly no’ one of them. Put it down and walk away.”
“You’d allow me to walk away.”
“Aye. Give me the items you’ve stolen and keep away from Ronnie. Stay away from any archeological dig site, and you’ll never see me again.”
Pete frowned. “You’re not here to arrest me?”
“I can if it would make you feel better. Make your decision, but quickly, because my patience is running out.”
“Who are you?” Pete demanded.
Arran glanced at the floor. “I’m of no consequence. Unfortunately, you hurt someone I care about, and I can no’ let you get away with it.”
Pete seemed to consider his words. He looked at the crate and then back at Arran. “I’ve got debts. I have to sell these for the money or I’m dead.”
Arran allowed his god to poke through enough to change his eyes to complete white. “If you doona do as I say, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Holy mother of God,” Pete said, and stumbled backwards, his eyes widened in horror. “What are you?”
“Your worst nightmare. Walk away now, Pete. It’s the last time I give you this offer.”
Pete began to lower his gun, but just as Arran thought he would turn away, Pete raised his arm and fired the weapon. Arran leaned to the side and easily dodged the bullet.
He turned his head to Pete and growled, the sound rumbling deep within him and echoing around the warehouse. He was still full of rage from the battle at Wallace mansion. Knowing Ronnie had been tricked only notched his anger up by degrees.
There was a soft swish as someone jumped from the top of the shelves to the ground. The next thing Arran knew, Ian and Quinn stood on either side of him.
Pete gave an alarmed cry and dropped his gun as he turned and ran. He was slow and clumsy because of his size and age, but the fact he was leaving was good enough for Arran.
Arran saw a shadow move as it followed Pete. And he knew Lucan was making sure Pete didn’t return.
“What now?” Ian asked.
Arran walked to the crate and set his hands on the side. “Now, I return these to Ronnie. And all of you go home.”
“Are you going to tell Ronnie who took the items?” Camdyn asked.
Arran turned his head to look at Fallon. “Take them home, and check on Malcolm and Charon.”
“Wait!” Ian said, but Fallon had already put his hand on him.
Arran let out a breath once he was alone. He dropped his chin to his chest and briefly squeezed his eyes closed. The first part was done. Now all he needed to do was get the artifacts back t
o Ronnie without her seeing him.
She’d made her wishes regarding him clear, and though a part of him wanted to fight her and make her listen to him, he knew that would only make things worse.
By making sure Pete stayed away, he was already taking away her father figure. At least she had Andy.
Arran remembered the way Ronnie’s body had reacted to his touch, how her passion had erupted when they came together. After having her, how would he get through eternity without her?
“You look how I feel.”
Arran’s head snapped up to find Fallon standing in front of him on the other side of the crate. “What are you doing here?”
“I can no’ stay at the castle. There are too many memories of Larena. The women keep trying to get me to stay, and I know it’s because Larena has to be buried and they want me to grieve.”
“What are you going to do?”
Fallon shrugged. “I can no longer think of the future. I’ll get through today, and then think about tomorrow when it comes.”
“The men need you.”
“Nay,” Fallon said with a slow shake of his head. “None of you need me to lead. All of you do it yourselves just fine.”
Arran wanted to argue with him, yet he understood exactly how Fallon felt.
“Are you going to talk to her?” Fallon asked.
He shook his head and pushed off the crate. “It’s better if I doona.”
“I think you’re wrong there. I think you should talk to Ronnie, tell her what happened. Make her see it was Pete who stole, no’ you.”
“Nay. I willna hurt her that way.”
“So you’ll allow her to think the worst of you? That doesna sound like the Arran I knew.”
Arran smiled wryly. “That’s because I’m no longer that man.”
“You care deeply for her.”
It wasn’t a question. “Deeply.”
“Do you love her?”
Arran looked away from Fallon as he faced a question he hadn’t been able to ask himself. But it was out there, and now he had to face it. Yet suddenly, it didn’t frighten him as he expected. “Aye. More than anything.”
“You’re allowing your pride to keep you away, then?”
“She asked that I never speak to her again. I’m granting her wish.”