by LAURA HARNER
Tomorrow everyone would go their separate ways, gathering the final supplies.
****
Liam spent days gathering the people and supplies needed to carry out his father’s plan. For years the Worthington had attempted to find the treasures hidden on the Gailtry Farm. His ancestors had believed there were hundreds of Druid tomes that had been hidden in the oldest of the Druid families, and that the Gailtry held one of the largest collections.
In the sixteenth century, a Worthington had tried to kill all of the Gailtry, only for a present day Worthington to discover one had been left alive. Although the last remaining Gailtry had been cursed, he had survived, and was even now gaining in his Druid skills, a future threat to the Etarlam Order of Druids.
Liam had observed the farm over the last several nights, watching as the group gathered in the library each evening. Making sure everyone was in place before he continued expanding the circumference of the circle he was drawing around the farmhouse and all the occupants. The wolves didn’t start their patrols until much later, long after Liam was gone.
As he placed each new ward stone, he added both magickal spells and modern day explosives. When the spell of fire was rained down upon the farm and its occupants, the results would be spectacular. His task would be complete in one or two more nights, at most, and then the Worthington would no longer worry about the MacLachlan or the Gailtry. Losing Elena would be such a shame. He would need to find a cure for his increasing restlessness soon.
****
The Queen savored Kheelen’s desire as he drew her silvery nipple into his mouth, then lapped at her sparkling breast. Her iridescent skin was covered in an aphrodisiac. The more he pleasured her with his mouth, the stronger his desire for her would grow. She knew his desire to be her king would make him work hard to take her to the very limits of her immortal ability to feel pleasure. Then he would do it again, and again, until she elevated him to be her king. If she decided to let him live. His life depended on his ability to pleasure her.
Morrighan’s eyes flashed appreciatively as she drew his head tight against her breast and arched her back. She had not anticipated a mating this intensely for thousands of years. If for nothing else, Kheelen’s ability to create this sexual awareness was to be commended. After thousands of millennia and limitless abilities to travel among worlds and between realms, little remained that intrigued Morrighan. Yet here she was, waiting with near human impatience for Kheelen’s mouth to cover all of her body, discover all of her secrets.
Lower and lower his tongue swept, until at last his mouth was pressed against her lower lips. He lapped the nectar of her desire and whispered words against those lips, words she recognized not, but the feel of them as his tongue stroked long and velvety made her shiver. The Queen doesn't shiver, what is wrong with me?
Again and again his tongue glided across her slick opening, probing, filling, retreating. Still she heard murmured words, and her eyes grew heavy. Languorously, she stroked her fingers into the wavy blond hair, bleached golden by the sun, drawing his mouth right where she needed it most.
Higher and higher he took her, her every nerve was on fire, reaching for release, yet her orgasm remained elusive. No one denied the Queen. At last she understood why Rhyannan had repeatedly returned to this Tuatha Dé, the things he could do with his mouth were unbearable.
She tried to open her eyes to look at him, to open her mouth to demand her release, but it was as though she’d been spelled herself, something patently impossible to do to the Queen. A sense of panic began to rise in her breast, a sense of helplessness, feelings nearly unrecognizable to someone as powerful as she. It was as if she’d been momentarily stripped of her control—she was his to use as he pleased.
Unexpectedly, she was floating and his hands and his mouth were everywhere at once. Her breasts were full and tight, his mouth was hot against them, and he suckled and bit. That wasn’t right, his tongue was flicking her hard nub in the vee of her legs, drawing circles, then gliding. No, his mouth was kissing her, possessing her, demanding her tongue in return. She lost her sense of direction, of up and down, and still her eyes wouldn’t open, her senses were trapped inside her head, unable to probe, unable to access her power. What have I done?
Fingers spread, then he pushed his cock into her from behind, filling her, rocking her, pounding with a force that would have destroyed a human woman. Yet his tongue was still licking her clitoris, flicking, then stroking, then he nibbled, before a long velvet stroke of his tongue eased the sharp bite of pain. How could that be? His mouth was still on her breast and he bit her nipple before drawing it back into his mouth, sucking, and pulling. Heavy testicles slapped against her, his shaft fit tight, her juices flowed. How did a woman take this and survive? He was everywhere, filling every part of her, and she still wanted more.
It could have been mere minutes, but without her senses, it felt like hours later, she was lifted to the very pinnacle of a woman’s pleasure, and thrown roughly over the edge. Her screams rent the night air, but there was no one to hear. When the final waves of her orgasm came to a shuddering halt, Morrighan was at last able to open her eyes once again.
She drew on all her power as Queen of the Tuatha Dé Danann, filling herself, glowing with her terrifying energy. The air around them crackled with the unrestrained electricity of her immortal power. She raised a hand—a hand that had stilled the hearts of thousands of men, a hand that could remove the life force of a Fae, with an imperious gesture. She pointed at Kheelen.
“Again. More.”
He smiled smugly and started over.
****
With an immortal sigh, Rhyannan looked at her loving husband. “It is done, my sister has taken Kheelen as her lover.”
****
Gabhran opened the door to his Edinburg house, and Faolan rushed in behind him carrying something wrapped in a blanket. Lissa led the way upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms and Faolan dropped the package unceremoniously on the bed. Elena followed close behind, keeping shields around everyone’s mind. Gabhran grabbed some rope, then he and Faolan tied the woman securely to the bed.
“Tell me again how you know this woman?” Faolan asked, as he fastened the last rope around her ankle.
“I murdered her,” Gav muttered, knowing how crazy that sounded. He pulled the cover from her face and Elena and Faolan both gasped with recognition.
“It’s the doctor,” they said in unison.
“Aye, she is the doctor who treated you in the hospital, Elena. She called and asked to meet with me, not long after you were released. She met me for dinner to talk about your case. Only she must have slipped something in my drink and taken me back to her place.”
Then big, brawny Gabhran did something he never remembered doing before. He blushed. As his face grew hot from the memory, he felt the flush creep up his neck, up his face, all the way to the roots of his hair. Clearing his throat, he continued with as much dignity as he could muster.
“She asked me to tie her up, and I was still filled with the dark spirit from the Druid ceremony.” He risked a look at Elena, who was studying the floor, her lips pressed tightly together.
“I slept when we were, uh…uhm.” He cleared his throat again. “When we were finished. Except, ‘twas more, ‘twas as though I passed out. When I woke, this lass here was still tied to the bed, her throat was cut, and she was dead. I also saw she had a tattoo on her back that was the same tattoo on Liam and others in the Bresal Etarlam. ‘Twas how I realized she was Druid.
“The Worthingtons had set me up well. I knew I needed to leave before the police came looking for me. ‘Tis why I left to look for Lissa, for the woman in the journal with no memories. ‘Tis why I was so shocked when we discovered her watching my townhouse, here in Edinburgh today.”
“She must have used a spell like your shielding spell,” Faolan said. Gav risked another look at Elena, who appeared to still be struggling with her fit of repressed giggles. Faolan took charge. “Elena
, you and Lissa go buy what you need. Gav, you and I will question this woman first, then we’ll go get the medical supplies from your office, as long as ‘tis not also being watched.”
Elena opened her mouth on a protest, but Faolan spoke over her, “Go, lass, this is not something you want to be here for, not something for either of you.”
That thought seemed sobered Elena immediately, and she and Lissa left the men to the distasteful duty.
By the time the evening was over, everyone had returned to the farm. They had medical supplies, the contents of Gabhran’s mysterious vault, a letter Gav had written to himself from New Orleans, and a lot more answers than they started the day with. By tomorrow, they would be ready to leave.
****
Liam looked through his scope until he identified everyone in the house. It was now or never, he thought wryly. He circled the farm outside Faolan’s wards, outside his own wards, making the final preparations. His father would be there very soon. Then the fireworks would begin.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Randi crouched behind a rock and wondered where Alex had gone. She’d been following him for the better part of an hour, not an easy task in her gown and slippers. How did medieval women stand these dresses? Sure, she’d liked the gown a lot when Gabhran’s eyes had gone all wide and his mouth got dry when she’d worn it for him, but it sure was hard to sneak around in. There. Was that him? Over by the standing stones?
She took a tentative step in that direction, when a huge golden arm snaked out and grabbed her by the waist. She stifled a scream. Alexander. Shit. Trying to maintain as much dignity as possible, she said coldly, “You can let go of me now.”
Immediately his arm dropped, but his gaze didn’t. He was furious, his black eyes glinted, and his grimace looked like a snarl. “What do you think you are doing, lass?” he practically spit at her.
Her chin rose defiantly. “I want to know who you’re meeting. This concerns me too! How do I know you won’t have him time travel you right out of here and leave me stranded?” Okay, I really don’t think he would do that, but I am beyond playing fair. I want answers!
“I wouldna let harm come to you, lass, and since it escaped your notice, you have already been left behind! Return to the keep. Now!”
She sensed the touch of compulsion he tried to use on her. So, that's the way he wants to play. Randi returned his gaze levelly and let that strange power that had flared in her head flex a little. His eyes widened in silent acknowledgment of her answering power.
“Like it or not Alexander, we’re in this together, and I will do everything I can to learn how to travel back to Gabhran.” She glared at him, refusing to back down.
For a fleeting second, she sensed something in him, something he was working hard to keep hidden from her. She wondered at her newfound power. What am I? She could feel spirits surrounding her, whispering things just out of earshot. And the power that swelled within her? What was it? How could she use it and what would it do? Giving her head a little shake to clear the questions that were, at least for the moment, unnecessary, she kept her gaze focused on Alex.
Suddenly, a faint humming filled the air, buzzing like high voltage power lines, the air thrummed with power. Her hair whipped, nearly sparking with static electricity; the hair on her arms and the nape of her neck rose. She sensed the spirits around her, some tremendous force, an electrical energy, was filling the air, surrounding and agitating them.
A squall, Randi thought, that’s what this must be, a squall. Lightening streaked from the sky, thunder exploded, the earth shook below her feet. The wind picked up strength and Randi grabbed onto Alexander’s arm for support. This was no storm. This was magick. With the all the drama of a fireworks show finale, bolt after bolt of lightning sparked across and between the standing stones. The accompanying thunder rumbled continuously, reaching an explosive crescendo. Then everything around them stilled.
Randi looked up at Alexander, and then followed his gaze to look to the standing stones. In the center stood a man, with long white hair and wearing robes of cornflower blue. He’s a wizard, Randi thought irreverently.
The man looked around the stones and beyond, into the woods that surrounded the clearing. Alex started forward, but stopped abruptly when the man dropped his head back, let out a roar, and called a name.
“Abigail!”
Unerringly then, he turned to look directly at Miranda, and his light blue eyes that matched his robe, bore into hers. He pulled her closer with the power of his mind, he was inside, probing, seeking answers she didn’t have, invading. The feeling was overwhelming, momentarily taking possession of her thoughts.
The power within her flared again, resentment bubbled at the intrusion and started to build; she couldn’t hold it back. God, I don’t want this. She pushed back, trying to temper her strength, but she didn’t know how to control any part of the force within her. The old man flew back against the furthest standing stone, and then Alexander had her around the waist, turning her away.
“Christ, the two of you are ripping me in half,” Alex yelled. His body jerked as if bullets were hitting him.
“Stop,” he roared. Miranda was breathing hard, and Alex, lifted her slightly and steadied her on her feet. Then turning and keeping Miranda well behind him, he called out, “Master, are you all right?”
“I’m sorry, I tried to stop. Oh God, I tried to stop. Please be okay, please be okay,” Randi said in a broken voice behind him.
****
Martin and Liam stood close together, shielding their thoughts, even though they were well beyond the protective wards surrounding the farm. The spells and additional supplies were in place. Liam had confirmed the presence of Gabhran and his woman, the older couple, Elena and the wolf. Liam went north, Martin south. It was time.
****
As soon as they returned to the keep, they moved into the library. Randi thought that was good, because she wanted to hear from this strange wizard-like man, to learn everything she could about the Druid time travel. Alexander handed the Druid Master a glass of whisky, and took a seat beside Randi, as if he might need to separate the two again.
The old man took the conversational lead. “You look very like your mother, lass. Tell me, is she well?”
Randi wanted to smile at his impish face and laughing eyes, but until she knew more about him, she would keep her thoughts to herself. “I don’t know who you are, why you shouted my mother’s name, or why you probed my mind. And just how did you get here? I think you owe me some explanations before I answer your questions,” Randi responded coolly.
He laughed. “Aye, I doona blame you there. Perhaps Alexander here can vouchsafe my trustworthiness. Ah, yes, well, that is a problem, since you doona seem to trust him completely, either.
“My name is Earnan, I have known young Alexander ever since I trained him in the Druid ways. Even though I never trained Gabhran, I think of them as sons, and now that you are here and pregnant, you will be part of our family, too.”
“How did you—”
“I know many things, lass, you will come to understand that about me in time, but surely you must be used to that with your mother…”
“My mother didn’t raise me,” Randi said through a tight jaw.
After a pause, Earnan replied, “Ah, well, it does not surprise me, she has e’er been one with a short attention span. Tell me, lass, where are you from?”
Randi knew he was turning the tables on her, asking the questions, but she wanted to know about her mother, so she answered, “New Orleans,” wondering if he knew where that was.
Earnan burst out laughing. “Doona be telling me she was playing at Voodoo? Abigail always had a penchant for unusual forms of magick.”
Randi leaned back against the couch, struggling to get enough air into her lungs. “What do you mean? What are you saying?”
After a long appraising look, Earnan began to speak. By the time he finished, Randi’s entire world had changed. The only
part that seemed to remain the same was who her parents were. And even that seemed questionable, as Earnan didn’t believe the story of the out of town liaison for a minute. It seemed Abigail was a witch. Not just any witch, but one of the most powerful alive, with powers akin to a Druid Master.
Abigail liked to adopt different eras, and different personas. As far as Earnan knew, Miranda was the only child she’d ever borne. He seemed amazed she’d stayed with Miranda as long as she had. She had lived in Salem, and allowed herself to be captured and history recorded her as the first witch burned during the witch trials.
Her life was full of such adventures, and she lived it to the fullest. Earnan’s voice had a mixture of love and sorrow as he spoke of Abigail.
Randi had hundreds of questions about her mother, but took a box off her mental bookshelf and stored them inside. Closing it firmly, willing herself to focus on the issue at hand, she told Earnan of their plight. When she was finished, she looked at Earnan expectantly, as though he might really be a wizard and wave a magic wand that would transport her at once to Gabhran.
“I see.” He turned to Alexander. “What of your story, my young friend? What has been happening to you, since last we spoke?”
It was Alexander’s turn to speak of his shipwreck, his capture, his escape. As he spoke, Randi listened to him with all her senses, looking for holes or lies. She found none. Instead she discovered he was a man far stronger than she realized. The power within him fairly hummed. She wondered just how powerful he was, and whether he could have sent her back himself.
Earnan was pulling on his lower lip and looking pensive when Alexander finished.
“I need some time to think, to read into things. I assume my usual room in the tower will be fine?” He raised a white brow at Alexander.
“Aye, but…”
“Nay, not now, I must have some space. I will return for the evening meal. We will speak then.” With a swish of the hem of his robe, he swept grandly from the room.