by Grant, Donna
Yet there were parts that were consistent in each of the sites that mentioned the Druid. The fact that she was missing from history for four centuries was a common thread.
If that part of the story Malcolm told her was true, then the rest had to be as well. It wasn’t that she thought he lied. It was just that she had a difficult time processing all she’d learned.
Her phone beeped, drawing her out of her thoughts. Evie reached for the mobile that was always near. She smiled when she saw Brian’s text about acing some exam.
She quickly punched the keys to congratulate him. No sooner had she hit send than another text from him popped up asking if he could bring a friend home for the holidays.
Evie stared at the screen for several seconds before she said yes. She didn’t stop to think how she would make it work, only that she would. She had to. For Brian. For herself.
There were a few more texts talking about one of his teachers and the amount of work in a class. But Evie’s mind was racing.
Once Brian said good night, she gently set her mobile aside and rubbed her temples. Her plan had been to stay hidden until the people wanting her information got tired and left her alone. Obviously, that plan wasn’t going to work. She’d have to come up with a new one.
She touched the pendant beneath her shirt. “Keep it safe always. It’s dangerous,” her grandmother had urged every day from the day she gave it to Evie three years before. They had been her grandmother’s last words as well.
In the year after her grandmother’s death, Evie had searched for answers, answers her grandmother either hadn’t known or refused to share. Evie had begged to know about Druids, but nothing would make her grandmother budge in talking.
Evie set aside her laptop and rose from the sofa. As guilty as she felt for using her magic to put some rugs throughout her chamber, she was glad she had. The cold penetrated the stones, even through her wool socks.
The only thing missing from Cairn Toul was a kitchen. Though she hadn’t seen Malcolm, she’d found the food left in her sitting room.
She hadn’t known how to cook the pheasant that first night, but magic had taken care of that. It was while she was eating the tasty bird that she began to wonder about food. She decided before bed to use her magic in order to eat. It was a necessity, after all.
But then there had been the bags of groceries. Evie had known they were from Malcolm.
Evie went to the small stock of groceries she’d piled against a wall behind the couch. She grabbed a plastic glass and poured a hefty amount of red wine into it.
She sipped the alcohol and looked from the bed to the wardrobe to the vanity. The sitting area had plenty of furniture as well.
It was obvious Deirdre had either used magic or had the items brought in. There was no reason Evie couldn’t do the same with a small fridge and maybe even an electric skillet.
The thought had merit even if she knew she’d have to actively seek out who was searching for her. It would still be days she’d be inside the mountain, mayhap even weeks.
“There’s time.”
“Time for what?” said a deep voice behind her.
A thrill went through her as she recognized the sultry voice. Evie smiled and slowly turned to face Malcolm. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“Time for what?” he repeated.
She shrugged and pointed to the groceries. “Thank you for the food, by the way. And I was thinking of getting a small fridge.”
“How would it work? You have no electricity here.”
“Damn,” she said with a frown. She hadn’t even thought of that. “I guess that means no coffee.”
He raised a blond brow. “If you’re that worried about being safe and having your luxuries, go into town and find a place. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
“That’s a very kind offer. Unfortunately, it isn’t as easy as that.”
“Explain it then.”
She swirled the dark wine in her glass, amused at how Malcolm didn’t think twice about ordering her about. “You offer to keep others away without knowing my name? Odd, if you ask me.”
“I’m no’ like other men.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” she said and took a drink to hide her smile.
His head cocked to the side. “Are you … teasing me?”
“Yes. The fact you had to ask tells me just how dour your life has been. When was the last time you smiled?”
“If you think your questions will make me forget that I’ve asked you to explain why you can no’ live in town, you’re mistaken.”
It was a try, her shrug said. “I’m a software designer by trade. I made good money at it too. Enough to support me and my brother well.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I had to leave my job. The savings I had dwindled quickly. The little I have left will cover Brian’s tuition for another year, but not if I use it.”
“Send him to another school.”
Evie blew away a curl that kept falling over her eye and sank into a corner of the couch. “I would if it were that simple. Brian was born unable to speak. When I got custody of him we couldn’t communicate at all. He was three and couldn’t write yet. I had to learn sign language quickly.”
“What happened to his mother?”
“She died. Mum walked out on my dad and me when I was very young. I didn’t hear from her again until after her death and I got a letter from the solicitors that she’d written me asking me to raise Brian. Not something an eighteen-year-old wants to do.”
“But you did it,” he said softly.
Evie chuckled as she recalled that fateful day. “I wasn’t going to. I went to the solicitor’s office to tell them that, and Brian was there. We were both orphans. How could I let someone else do my duty? So, I picked Brian up in my arms and brought him home.”
“And now?” he pressed.
“Now Brian has found a school where he feels comfortable. He fits in. There are other mute kids there, but most have some sort of disability. I couldn’t bear to tell him he couldn’t return.” She looked down at her wine, her heart heavy with the decisions she had to make.
If something happened to her, she didn’t know where Brian would go or who would take care of him. There wasn’t even enough money in her savings to cover the years for the rest of his schooling. How could she do that to him?
“Your car has been towed to Aviemore.”
She jerked her head up to look at him. “Are the authorities searching for me?”
“Aye. You might want to let them know you were picked up by a friend.”
Evie set aside her wine and immediately reached for her laptop. A few minutes later she hit send to an e-mail to the police in Aviemore. “Hopefully that’ll be enough to keep them from looking for me.”
“I’ll make sure it is.”
“Thank you, Malcolm.”
His chest rose as he took a deep breath. He wore an olive-green shirt that looked a size too small and had seen too many washes.
As if noticing her scrutiny he shifted his shoulders. “I had to … borrow … the shirt.”
The way he’d paused when he said borrow told her he meant stolen. She couldn’t help but grin. “Next time when you … borrow … a shirt, check the size.”
“I will.” He glanced down before he said, “The rest of the story you want to know. It might be better if you didna.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes it’s better no’ to know what’s waiting in the dark.”
A shiver ran over her skin. It seemed to do that a lot with Malcolm, or maybe it was the mountain. “Knowledge is power. I’d rather have the information.”
“The men who had their god unbound are Warriors.”
“Why warrior?”
“Nay. A Warrior,” he corrected.
“Okay. They’re Warriors. Why?”
“They become immortal, Druid. They hold and use whatever power the god inside them has. There is also the enhan
ced senses and speed.”
There was something else he wasn’t telling her. “And?”
“They … change. The gods each favor a color. The Warrior’s skin will change to that color when he calls forth his god. The Warrior also has claws and fangs.”
Evie nodded as he spoke. All she could think about was a rainbow of colors and men walking around with vampire fangs and claws.
“That is if the Warrior has control over his god,” Malcolm said.
“What? What do you mean?”
“No’ every Warrior is in control of his god. Sometimes the gods take over. The gods are evil, Druid. What do you think happens to the Warriors then?”
“They turn evil,” she said in a small voice.
“Aye.”
“What about the Warriors who can control the god within them?”
He looked away, his eyes going distant. “The evil is always there, but if a man is good of heart, the evil willna win.”
“You’re thinking of the MacLeods, aren’t you?”
He blinked and focused on her. “There are others besides them. Good men who have fought to keep innocents from Deirdre’s wrath.”
“But Deirdre is gone.”
“Declan brought Deirdre to this time. After she was killed, the focus turned to Declan until he was slain.”
“How did that happen?”
Malcolm flexed his hand. “Painfully. Declan used different methods of hurting the Warriors and Druids than Deirdre did. Some Druids were killed. It was the strength of a Warrior who also happened to be half-Druid who eradicated Declan.”
“Why then do I get the feeling it’s still not safe?”
“Because it isna. There’s another Druid out there—Jason. He’s used his black magic to hurt my cousin. For that, I will destroy him.”
The pieces began to all fall together. “Your cousin is a Druid then?”
“A Warrior.”
“Oh. What’s his name?”
“Her name is Larena.”
“But … I thought all Warriors were men,” she said in exasperation.
Malcolm gave a single shake of his head. “Nay. Larena holds a goddess within her. As far as we know, she’s the only female Warrior, which makes her special.”
“How was Larena hurt?”
“A drop of drough blood in a Warrior’s wound will kill them. Jason altered the drough blood he uses. Larena died, but the Druids managed to bring her back. Yet, she’s no’ the person I knew. She’s changed. She’s becoming … me.”
Evie’s heart broke at his words, spoken faintly and dispassionately. But she wasn’t fooled. Malcolm was affected deeper than he wanted to admit.
In that moment, that barest brief of time and space, she knew he’d do whatever it took to kill Jason as violently and viciously as he could.
And Evie hoped he did.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Ferness
Phelan stood on the second floor and eyed the sleek bright blue Maserati GranTurismo MC Stradale as it pulled up in Charon’s private drive at the back of his building.
Behind Phelan, Charon was in his office going over some figures for the flats he leased while Aisley filed papers and Laura worked on the computer.
The door of the Maserati opened and the tall form of Constantine unfurled from the car. He stood and buttoned the jacket of his charcoal-gray and black pinstriped hand-tailored Brioni suit.
Behind the designer sunglasses, Phelan knew Con was letting his gaze leisurely roam the area. He grinned when Con turned his head of blond hair and looked behind him before facing the building once more.
Constantine, the man behind Dreagan Industries, was much more than he appeared. For one, he wasn’t human—or mortal. He was a Dragon King. The King of Kings actually.
Dreagan land had been used to stop Wallace once. If it hadn’t been for the help of the dragons, Phelan was certain he wouldn’t be alive.
He watched as Con put one hand in his pants pocket and started for the steps. Con ascended the steps like a man who had all the time in the world.
Like a man who owned the world.
Since Con and the other dragons were as old as time itself, there was a reason Con acted that way. It also contributed to his self-assured, arrogant attitude that made Phelan want to see how long it would take to anger the King of Kings.
When Con reached the top, he stared through the sliding glass door at Phelan. A few seconds later, with a smirk he couldn’t hide, Phelan slid open the door.
“What brings you here?” Phelan asked as he moved aside.
Con stepped inside and removed his sunglasses, pinning Phelan with his black eyes. “Just stopping by.”
“No such thing,” Charon said as he exited his office. He extended his hand to Con and they shook. “What can we do for you?”
“Con,” Laura said as she came to greet him. “It’s always good to see you.”
“And you,” Con replied with a smile and placed a kiss on each of her cheeks. He then moved past her to greet Aisley in the same manner. “How is the Phoenix today?”
Aisley laughed. “I’ve got a cranky Warrior to deal with. How do you think?”
Phelan crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Constantine. “Stop flirting with my woman and tell us why you’re really here.”
“I came to see how things were going.”
“Bollocks. You know everything that’s going on. What’s the real reason?”
A slow smile spread over Con’s face. “You’re worried about Malcolm. I’m here to tell you he’s been spotted near Cairn Toul.”
“Shite,” Charon said and ran a hand through his hair.
Even Phelan was unsettled by Con’s words. “Are you sure?”
“Rhys knows what he saw.”
“So Rhys was taking a little midnight flight,” Charon said.
Con nodded.
Phelan dropped his arms. “Malcolm called two nights ago. He … well, he seemed lost for a minute. He told me he was all right, but I doona believe him.”
“What would bring him back to Cairn Toul?” Con asked.
Charon gave a snort of anger. “No’ a damn thing. He hates that place as much as we do.”
“But that doesna explain what Rhys saw,” Phelan argued.
Con’s black eyes studied Phelan. “Perhaps you should try and contact Malcolm again.”
“It wouldna do any good. He answers only when he wants to.”
Charon shrugged. “Con has a point. It might help.”
“Malcolm needs a friend,” Con said. “It looks like he turned to you for that.”
Phelan felt Aisley’s magic and wrapped it around himself. A moment later she was next to him, her hands on his arm. Phelan let her magic calm his racing mind. “If anyone can reach him it would be Larena, if she was able. Since she’s no’, and Fallon is too preoccupied with her, I’ll do what I can. I want it known that I think it’s a mistake for me to try and help though.”
“You’ll do great, babe,” Aisley said and rose up to give him a quick kiss.
Con ran a hand over his chin as he glanced out the window. “Do any of you know of an antiques and collectibles shop in Perth by the name of The Silver Dragon?”
“Nay. Should we have?” Charon asked.
“It’s a Dragon King problem. I was just curious if it was something that had drawn your interest.”
This piqued Phelan’s attention. “You’re coming to us to ask something? That’s no’ normal. No’ when you dragons seem to know the goings-on everywhere.”
“We’re no’ all-seeing,” Con stated flatly.
“Obviously. Is there something in this antique store you need?”
Charon blew out a breath and rocked back on his heels. “Phelan has a point. Why come to us with this? You’re dragons.”
Anger sizzled in Con’s dark gaze as a muscle jumped in his jaw. “This … problem … is one that has been around for a verra long time.”
“Then remove
the problem,” Phelan said.
Aisley turned her startled fawn-colored eyes to him. “Phelan,” she admonished. “Did you not hear the name of the store? I’m guessing this has something to do with the King of Silvers.”
Con put a hand up to stop her. “Forget I said anything.”
“As if. Did you come here hoping we’d take care of this … problem?” Charon asked, his eyes guarded.
“Never. As I said, I asked in the hopes you might have information.”
Laura looked from Charon to Con. “One of us could always drop by and have a look around this store.”
“I’m no’ sure that’s a good idea.”
Charon’s dark brow lifted as he rocked back on his heels. “Is this problem of yours dangerous?”
Something vicious and primitive flashed in Con’s eyes. “No’ anymore.”
Phelan had a feeling there was much more Con wasn’t telling them. And until he did, there was no way he would allow Aisley anywhere near this … problem. “I’ve seen the way you dragons heal. It’s almost instantaneous. Whereas we Warriors take a few moments. Tell me why you doona just go into this store and end this problem?”
Con chuckled, the smile not quite reaching his black gaze. “It’s … complicated.”
“Meaning,” Charon said, “that this problem is a King and the other Dragon Kings wouldna be pleased.”
“To say the least,” Con admitted, though by the tightness of his lips, it cost him.
Phelan knew he had to be diplomatic. The Dragon Kings were good allies. They would be lethal enemies. “Perhaps it would be best if we stayed out of the middle of this. For now.”
Con’s gaze came to rest on him. He stood still as he studied Phelan for several long seconds. “Perhaps.”
“You don’t happen to have any information on Jason, do you?” Laura hastily changed the subject.
Aisley glanced up at Phelan. “Since we don’t want to sit around waiting for Jason to make his next move, anything you have would be great.”
“He’s at his mansion,” Con said and turned to look out the glass door. “Tread carefully. Wallace will be expecting you.”
“We’re no’ going to him,” Phelan said.