Darkest Highlander (34 page)

Quinn clapped Arran on the shoulder. “Duncan will be avenged.”

“I have no doubt.” Those at MacLeod Castle were a family, a very close family. What you did to one, you did to all. “I fear that we’ll lose Ian as well. What if he cannot control the addition of Duncan’s portion of their god?”

“He will. I know it.” Quinn looked at the now still form of Ian. “If anyone can, it’s Ian. He’s had two centuries learning his god. Duncan’s half should be easy enough to control once Ian gets past his grief.”

The hall grew quiet as each of them realized the next few weeks and months were going to be the hardest to watch as Ian struggled.

The door to the castle was thrown open and Logan stepped inside, a body hanging over his shoulder. He was covered in blood. “Where is Ian? I’ve brought Duncan’s body home.”

“So he is dead,” Fallon said softly.

Logan nodded. “It was Deirdre. She had three Warriors with her, one of which was Malcolm.”

Larena sucked in a shaky breath and turned to Fallon as his arms wrapped around her. “Nay. Not Malcolm.”

Logan knew Larena and her cousin had been close, but everyone needed to know what had happened. “Malcolm struck the killing blow, Larena.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the air began to shimmer around Ian.

“Get back,” Logan called. “Everyone get back.”

“What is it?” Broc demanded as he tugged Sonya away from Ian. “The magic feels … wrong.”

Logan shrugged. “I doona know, but I saw it surround Deirdre, the wyrran, and the Warriors. And then they were gone.”

The hall was gripped in silence as they all watched the shimmer cloak Ian. Then, in a blink, he, too, was gone.

“It’s Deirdre,” Lucan said.

“Nay,” Isla said as she took in a steadying breath. “That magic was … different. It takes a very powerful Druid to cast a spell over a distance.”

Logan nodded. “She’s right. Deirdre was furious when she felt it. And she fought against it.”

“Something more powerful than Deirdre?” Ramsey said thoughtfully. “This doesna bode well.”

Broc swallowed as he watched the Druids surround the spot where Ian had just been. So much had happened. With Deirdre they knew what to expect, knew what she was about. She might surprise them on occasion, but at least they could guess what her next move might be.

If there was someone else they had to fight, they first had to discover who it was. And why they were all of a sudden making an appearance.

The magic of the spell turned sour. A sign of black magic. Sonya turned to Broc, her face pale. Isla clutched her chest, and Reaghan put her hand on the wall to steady herself.

“What is going on?” Broc asked through clenched teeth.

Hayden went to Isla. “I’d also like to know. I feel Isla’s fear.”

Reaghan waited until Galen put an arm around her before she said, “Very potent black magic. The spell is vastly complicated.”

“It’s a spell I have heard about but never knew anyone who dared to use it,” Isla explained.

“What is it?” Quinn demanded.

Sonya lifted her face to Broc. “It’s a spell that pulls someone through time.”

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the castle. For a heartbeat Broc couldn’t breathe. “How? Why?”

Arran shifted his feet, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. “Find Deirdre, Broc. You’re the only one who can tell us if she really has been moved through time.”

Broc kissed the top of Sonya’s head and released his god. Indigo colored his skin as his wings sprouted from his back. He thought of Deirdre, and for once he didn’t find her immediately.

Sweat beaded his skin as his god’s power surged through him, seeking Deirdre throughout all time. Broc’s muscles locked, his body shaking with the effort it took him. But then he found her.

Her thread was faint, but that wasn’t what made his stomach turn. It was the knowledge that she had indeed been pulled through time.

He turned his attention next to Ian. It took him even longer than it had to find Deirdre, and by the time he did, his legs could barely hold him up.

Broc opened his eyes and looked at each individual in the castle. “Deirdre is four centuries into the future. And so is Ian, though he isna with her.”

Marcail’s knees buckled. Quinn helped her into a seat, his hand held protectively over her swelling stomach.

“She’s no longer a threat then since she isn’t here,” Cara said.

Ramsey shook his head slowly. “If only that were true. In the future, everything could change. We’ve no idea who pulled Deirdre forward, or why.”

“We doona know why Ian was taken either,” Logan said. “I do know it was the same magic. That isna all that happened in Mallaig. I found the falcon, or rather who was controlling it. It’s a group of Druids of Eigg. The one who was able to see through the peregrine’s eyes to watch us was named Brenna. They felt Deirdre’s magic and came to battle her.”

“Except she was taken,” Camdyn said.

Logan nodded. “The Druids on Eigg were watching us to see what we would do. They doona trust us, that was made clear by their leader Kerwyn. I doona think it matters, though. The only recourse we have now is to follow Ian and Deirdre.”

Lucan blew out a harsh breath. “Maybe no’ all of us.”

Logan nodded. “That was my thought as well.”

“I know the spell,” Isla said into the stillness that had once more descended. “And with the combined magic of the Druids here, we might be able to make it work.”

Reaghan licked her lips. “Together we can do it.”

“Though,” Isla said as she looked around her, “there’s no guarantee that whoever goes will land together.”

Logan stepped forward. “It doesna matter. I’m going to look for Ian as well as the Tablet of Orn. Doesna matter what century Deirdre is in. She still needs to die.”

“Include me,” Camdyn said as he stepped forward.

Broc looked to Ramsey and saw his friend push away from the wall.

“Me as well,” Ramsey said.

Arran’s body was rigid as he moved beside the other three. “Deirdre needs to pay for killing Duncan. And Ian will need someone he trusts in his present state.”

Broc looked around the hall at the other Warriors and their women. To the four stepping through time, it would be just a matter of heartbeats before they would see the castle again.

To everyone else, it would be centuries.

Ramsey turned to Isla. “You can strengthen the shield around the castle to hold off time for those inside.”

Isla frowned as her eyes took on a faraway look. “Because we will need all of us to awaken Laria.”

Ramsey nodded. “Precisely.”

Fallon rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the four Warriors who would travel through time. “Be careful. We doona know what Deirdre is about.”

“Which is why we need to get there soon,” Logan said.

Sonya pulled out of Broc’s arms to go with the other Druids who were now circling the four Warriors.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever see them again as the castle began to hum with magic. The Druids’ chanting grew louder the stronger their magic became.

Broc wished he would have spoken to Ramsey one last time. His gaze met Ramsey’s silver one. Ramsey gave him a ghost of a smile, and then he and the others were surrounded by shimmering air.

Then they were gone.

“Godspeed, my brothers,” Broc murmured.

EPILOGUE

Scotland
Present Day

Declan Wallace smiled and clasped his hands in front of him. All his work, all the research into the spells had paid off.

The great and feared Deirdre now stood before him. Her white eyes glared daggers at him.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

Declan shrugged and let his eyes take in her slim figure and the black gown that only made her white hair and eyes more beautiful. “Someone who has gone to a great deal to bring you to me.”

Her eyes narrowed as her magic built. “What have you done?”

“There’s no need to attempt to use your magic on me. It willna work. And I brought you here because, together, the world awaits us.”

He saw the ends of her hair twitch along the floor. He knew she would try to use her magic. Any good
drough
would. But he wasn’t just any
drough
.

He was the one who would conquer the world.

And master Deirdre.

As Logan listened to Hamish speak of Mallaig and its trials, Logan found himself thinking of his childhood and his family.

He usually kept memories of his parents and younger brother pushed far in a corner of his mind, but once he had reached the mainland port of Mallaig those memories had bombarded him.

He hadn’t tried to rid himself of them. In fact, he allowed himself a few moments to remember a happier time, a time when life had been pleasant. A time when he had been a good son.

A time before he had betrayed his family.

Memories he had hidden away for over a century were returning with a force too strong for him to shove away easily.

He didn’t know what was in store for him in the coming days, but whatever it was he knew it would alter the course of his future. He didn’t care what it was as long as he could continue to fight against Deirdre.

The oath he had made to put an end to her rode him tirelessly. He hadn’t felt as if he were doing enough, which was why he had stepped forward to find the next artifact, the Tablet of Orn. The tablet would lead them to the place where Deirdre’s twin, Laria, slept.

Laria was the only one who could kill Deirdre.

Logan took a deep breath, Hamish’s words barely registering. The deluge of conversations, haggling, and laughter assaulted him at every angle along the dock.

In the distance Logan spotted a market. A person could find any number of items at a market. Fruits, vegetables, cloth, baskets, ribbons, and even weapons. It was a visual spectacle he hadn’t realized he’d missed until then.

The sights, the sounds, the smells. It was all just as he recalled. The only thing missing was his mother examining a piece of cloth they couldn’t afford while his younger brother begged for a coin to buy a sweetmeat.

An ache, bone deep and crushing, began in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Could do nothing to hold back the tide of memories.

If he gave in, if he allowed the memories to take him, he would never return. They were as demanding and insistent as his god, Athleus.

He fisted his hands, thankful when his claws plunged deep into his palms and blood dripped between his fingers.

It was that pain, though momentary, which allowed him to get the upper hand to his recollections and shove them back into the a deep, dark corner of his mind.

When he opened his eyes he glanced down at his skin to confirm it hadn’t turned the silver of his god. Only then did he raise his gaze.

“Mallaig has survived,” Hamish said, his voice low and full of pain.

Logan could understand the old man. “We all survive. There is no other choice.”

Hamish lifted his gaze and gave a single nod. “Aye, lad. Ye’ve the right of it. What have ye survived being one so young?”

“Naught you’d believe, old man,” Logan said with a smile he knew didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He turned his head to look around him and stiffened as his gaze collided with a woman’s. But not just any woman. She was stunning.

Dazzling.

Mesmerizing.

For a moment he couldn’t form a coherent thought as he drank in her extraordinary beauty. She stood still as stone, her wide, expressive violet eyes trained on him.

Her black hair hung thick and straight just past her shoulders where the ends lifted and swirled around her in the breeze coming from the sea. Her skin was unblemished, the color of cream, which beckoned to be touched. He longed to stroke it, to see if it was as soft and smooth as he imagined it would be.

His blood began to pound through his body. His balls tightened, eager to know the taste of her lips and the feel of her curves against his. He grew hard just thinking about holding her, of skimming his hands along her body.

Logan had always enjoyed women, but never in all his years had one affected him as this one did. She intrigued him. In a way that made him wonder if he should approach her or run the other way.

She was bundled against the weather with a hat of some kind that covered her head in various shades of pink stripes. She was of average height, but there was nothing common about her. She was a siren, an irresistible enchantress.

And he was smitten. Besotted. Infatuated.

He had to know her, but more than that, he had to taste her. Touch her.

Claim her.

Logan rose, intending to discover her name and every secret she had when he felt it glide over his body. Magic. It was soft, almost hesitant, but it was magic.

A delicious, succulent feel of magic that he had never experienced before.