Dark Embrace (18 page)

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Authors: Brenda Joyce

BOOK: Dark Embrace
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Brianna whispered, “I owe you my life…again.”

He looked at her in horror.

 

A
IDAN HAD JUST HEALED HER
.

Demons could not heal.

He rose to his feet, his face hard and tight. “Can ye stand?”

Brie closed her eyes, recalling Moray's brutal attack. She had been close to death, and this time it had not been a dream. She would have died if Aidan hadn't healed her.

She trembled, slowly opening her eyes and gazing up at him. They were connected more than ever before. “You can heal. I didn't know.”

His expression was grim.

“Demons can't heal, not ever. Was your mother a Healer?”

“Nay, but she was very devout.” Clearly he did not wish to discuss this topic any further. He added reluctantly, “My grandmother was a goddess.”

Brie sat up, incredulous.
His grandmother was a goddess.
No wonder he could heal. This new, stunning fact was further proof that there was so much hope. Or was there?

Brie hugged herself now. Moray had taken another man's body again. Aidan didn't have to tell her for her to know. But just to be sure, she said, “Was it Moray?”

His eyes blazed. “Aye.”

She exhaled. It was as she had thought. Moray had begun the battle by attacking Aidan, and it had seemed as if they were evenly matched, until he had directed his evil at her.

She hadn't expected it. She was never going to forget being suddenly hurled by his power, so forcefully that it was like becoming a small tennis ball spinning in a cyclone. She had known she would die the moment she'd made impact with the tree.

She would never forget hearing her skull crack; she would never forget the utter comprehension and then the utter terror; and she would never forget the explosion of pain that had followed.

Brie felt sick. She knelt just in case she had to retch.

Aidan knelt beside her, his hand on her back, but whether to steady or comfort her, she didn't know. “Are ye still ill?”

She fought herself and twisted to face him. She was scared to death. As nauseous as she was, every hair on her body now stood on end. She almost felt as if Moray lurked upon them both. “Aidan?” His gaze met hers. “He meant to murder me.”

“I'm sending ye to Iona, where he canna find ye.”

Brie stared. How could she leave him now? But that demon was after
her.
“He went after me, not you. Why?”

“I mean to keep ye safe, an' he's showin' me he has great power.” Aidan's mouth was downturned.

“What does he want? He didn't destroy you in 1436—he destroyed Ian. He didn't destroy you today. Could he have? Does he want to destroy you, or just hurt you?”

“I dinna ken if he can kill me. He has great power now.” He hesitated. “I have asked the gods fer help an' they have agreed.”

As hope began, he said harshly, “I bargained with them. 'Tis not what ye wish for. I will never worship them. But they couldna refuse my offer.”

“What did you offer them?” she demanded, in dread.

He stood, holding out his hand. “Ye need to rest after what ye suffered today.”

She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. Brie did not let go, gripping him tightly. “I still don't understand what he wants. Is this a sick game?”

“He's playin' me.” Aidan released her hand. “Aye, 'tis a game for him to toy with me, to torture me, until he breaks me to his will or torments me to death. I dinna think he cares which it is.”

Brie stared. How were they going to survive the return of such great evil?

“How do ye feel?”

She wet her lips, focusing on her body just for a moment. “I seem okay.” She met his brilliant blue regard again. “What are we going to do now?”

He gave her a chilling look. “Ye'll do naught. I'll hunt him an' finish this.”

Dread swept Brie. “And how will you do that? Oh, wait, you've made your deadly bargain with the gods. Don't tell me! I don't want to know!”

“Come to the tent. Ye'll feel better after ye eat an' sleep.”

Brie knew she must fight her rising hysteria, but it was really hard to do. “He possessed Frasier—the man who is going to hang you. That cannot be a coincidence!” Her alarm escalated wildly.

He took her elbow and started guiding her toward the camp, which was quite some distance away.

“You know it's no coincidence.” She balked, refusing to take another step. “We need help. We need Malcolm and Claire and Allie and Royce and your friend, MacNeil, and all the other white power we can summon.”

He jerked his head in the direction of his tent. “I willna ride with the Masters, walk with them or fight beside them.”

“Then you are a fool!” she cried, distraught. “Does anyone know how to vanquish him?”

He gave her a cold glance. “'Tis nay clear yet.”

“That is exactly what I thought,” Brie cried, near tears. She hurried ahead of him, ignoring the knights and Highlanders she passed. As no one crossed themselves, she guessed that displays of superpowers were not all that unusual.

What were they going to do? How were they going to survive? And what kind of deal had he made with the gods, who were probably furious with him?

Aidan fell into step beside her. “Dinna worry so, Brianna. I dinna fear Moray. I can hunt both men at the same time.”

Brie inhaled. “Oh, so you will hunt Moray, who happens to posses Frasier at will?”

“Aye.”

She felt like slapping him silly. “I have never heard of a more stupid plan! I think this is some kind of demonic setup for you to hang.” She faced him, barring his way, hands on her hips. “But you can't hang. I mean, you can simply leap away, into the future or the past, unless a great power blocks you.”

He stared, not answering.

“And Moray has great power now because he has a part of the Duisean. This is getting worse and worse!”

“I shouldna have brought ye to my time. I brought ye into this.” His mouth was a hard, tight line. “Yer afraid, an' I dinna blame ye. But ye'll be safe on Iona, Brianna.” He paused, then said harshly, “Ye need to stop carin' fer me.”

What the hell did that mean? “If you are warning me to prepare myself for your death, like hell I will!” she cried shrilly. It really hit her then. She loved him. Maybe it hadn't ever been a crush; maybe it had been love at first sight. She didn't really know. What she did know was that she loved him now, and she wasn't going to let him hang or go on pretending to be some badass demon. “What did you offer the gods?”

“Doesna matter.”

“It matters, damn it.”

“Ye'll feel better an' think more clearly when yer on Iona.” He tried to force a smile but it vanished as instantly as it formed. “The island's pretty an' peaceful. Ye'll like it there.”

“I am not leaving you!” she cried furiously. She realized tears had welled and one had fallen down her cheek. “We're in big trouble, the both of us,
together.

“There's nay
we,
Brianna,” he said harshly. He took her arm. As his hand closed around her, she tensed, but not because of the contact.

The ground tilted wildly and began to spin. Instantly she knew a vision was coming. Dread began. She knew she did not want to see whatever was about to form. The landscape whirled until she could not see the tents, the men, the cook fires or Aidan. And then the spinning kaleidoscope of color slowed, shadowy images forming.

A huge crowd of men and women in linen tunics and plaids gathered before stone walls. She saw a stately palace, as well, and heard the crowd. There were cheers, jeers, laughter. Brie saw red and gold leaves. Snow dusted the ground.

And she saw Malcolm. He was at the front of the crowd, holding Claire. Those around him were laughing and pleased, but he was crying in anguish.

No,
she thought desperately.

She saw Allie, screaming and fighting someone—Royce, her husband.

Brie did not want to see any more. With gut-wrenching horror, she followed Malcolm's gaze and cried out.

Aidan was hanging above the crowd, twirling slowly in the breeze, his neck crooked, his face downturned.

Brie gasped, eyes flying open, clinging to Aidan's arms.

He was staring down at her in concern.

Brie realized she was weeping. He had carried her to the bed in their tent. She had just seen Aidan hanged. Her visions always came true. What was she going to do?

“Ye swooned.” His quiet voice interrupted her frantic thoughts.

She moved her hands, seizing his strong shoulders. Power pulsed in his muscles and veins, so much male power. She was not going to let him die. Not now, not when he was changing before her very eyes, not when she loved him so much.

Aidan's mouth tightened.

In that moment, she knew he'd been inside her mind and he'd seen all that she had.

“It's a mistake. It has to be,” she breathed, precariously close to more tears.

“Dinna weep for me, Brianna.” A false smile came and went. “I am hardly worth yer tears.”

“Do not speak that way.”

His eyes flickered oddly and his gaze slipped to her mouth, then lifted. “I dinna wish to live to old age.” He shifted as if to stand, but did not do so. “Ye must be tired. I will guard ye while ye sleep.”

He was sitting on that small bed with her, and she had his huge shoulders in her hands. Her fear was receding, replaced by an acute, painful awareness of him, not just as a sexy, beautiful man, but as a man struggling to make his way back to the light.

She hadn't felt any emotions from him—not since his fury and terror in the battle earlier with Frasier. He was adeptly blocking his feelings from her. But heat was rising in her, replacing the fear. With the slowly incoming tide of desire, there was so much love.

“I almost died today,” she whispered. She reached up and touched his cheek in a soft caress and he stiffened, his eyes flying wide with alarm. She dropped her hand and said as softly, “But you healed me. You
healed
me, Aidan, with a white, god-given power. Terrible things lie ahead for us both. I have seen them. I can't sleep. I don't want to sleep. I want you to hold me, make love to me…and chase this all away, just for an hour or so.” She lifted her hand.

He pulled away, standing, before she could caress his face again, but his eyes smoldered and his leine fluttered suggestively. “Ye dinna wish to be my lover or my friend, Brianna,” he said softly, and as his words washed through her, silken and strong, she knew he was enchanting her. “Ye dislike me now. Ye want nothin' to do with me. Ye want to go to Iona. Ye want to be safe.”

Brie cried out, clapping her hands over her ears.
I love him,
she thought.
I want
him
safe! He is my friend and nothing can change that.

He tore her hands from her ears. “Ye resist me?”

She nodded, even though his words were potent and reverberating through her.
Ye dinna wish to be my friend, Brianna. Ye dislike me now. Ye want nothing to do with me…. Ye want to go to Iona….

“I am your friend,” she whispered. “And we both need one another now.”

He leaned over her, holding her wrists, his eyes hard and wide. Brie pressed her mouth in the vee of his leine, against his hot skin.

His heart slammed and then thundered. “Dinna,” he warned, but his grasp on her tightened. And as it did, she recalled every single moment of the dream they had shared.

He had been desperate for her touch, and he had kissed her as if he had never kissed a woman before.

She pressed another kiss against his skin and she heard him stifle a moan.

As she looked up and saw that his eyes had closed, his high cheekbones were stained with desire and he'd arched his head back in sheer enjoyment.

Brie slid to her knees and moved her mouth up the column of his strong, vibrating throat. He shuddered.

She lifted her face and pressed her mouth to his lips.

His mouth was tightly closed. He kept her wrists in an iron grasp. She moved her mouth gently against his.

He gasped, and his huge arms encircled her as his mouth opened and their lips fused. His desire exploded between them, unshielded. As it stabbed through Brie, she realized it was even greater than before. Throwing her arms around him, hanging on as if for her life, she kissed him back frantically.

Their tongues sparred.

He suddenly slid his arm around her waist and hiked her up hard against his raging manhood. Brie became faint with urgency and need.

He tore his mouth from hers, panting, blue eyes ablaze.

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