Defending Destiny (The Warrior Chronicles) (6 page)

“You can’t lie worth a damn. You shouldn’t try.”

He was right, of course. She didn’t lie often enough to get good at it. Her sister, Taryn, had come back from her trip to Glastonbury unable to lie. She’d swallowed water from a well blessed by the Celtic goddess, Cerdwin, and from that moment on Taryn said exactly what she thought. Her sister was getting better about not blurting out every outrageous thing that came to her mind, but her basic honesty had worn off on Daisy. Funny that Magnus didn’t realize she’d been lying when she said she didn’t love him anymore. Apparently he wasn’t infallible when it came to reading her. That was a very good thing considering the thoughts his physical nearness was giving her. She thought about sex as much as the next woman, she supposed, but she’d been
seeing
flashes of what she’d like to do to Magnus since she first saw his boots from the pool.

Four hours locked in a car with the man, smelling his shampoo, being forced to feel every glance he sent her way, was making her itch. She was beginning to picture him naked every time she closed her eyes.

She couldn’t shut it down fast enough to avoid the rush of memories from before
The Incident
. Memories of the days she spent with Magnus at Potters Woods led everywhere good and nowhere productive if she wanted to keep disliking him. Magnus had been patient and kind then. Daisy spared him a quick glance as he rested one large hand on the shifter, just like she remembered. Jesse, her brother, tried to teach her how to drive a stick shift. She’d taken out three mailboxes before he gave up. Jordon, her father, didn’t have the patience to teach her how to drive. When he yelled at her after a narrow miss with a UPS truck, she’d gotten out of the car after forcefully engaging the parking break, and walked the remaining five miles home.

Magnus taught her how to drive. Unbeknownst to her parents or her adult siblings, who were chokingly overprotective, Magnus also taught her how to ride a motorcycle. He’d done it all in one long, but productive weekend. Without yelling at her. She’d loved him for that. She caught herself smiling at his profile and abruptly jerked her head away.

Why did sex have to change everything?

Because it does. Always. Every time.

“What did you say?” Magnus asked, not looking at her.

I’d like to see you naked. Sex has already screwed us up, might as well get some satisfaction out of it. How badly could one more time hurt?

He sounded irritated. Good. She was plenty hot and bothered, and there was no reason he should be comfortable in the small space they were forced to share. “You’re still pissed that I called up the private jet to fly us to Glasgow, aren’t you?” Daisy smiled at his profile, knowing when she saw his jaw muscle tighten that she’d hit a nerve. “Being a rich bitch has its perks.”

Daisy settled more fully into the leather seat, satisfied with the grunt Magnus gave in response. He obviously didn’t like having his words thrown back at him. She had no problem flying commercial, in fact most of the time she did, against Jordon’s wishes. She’d provided for herself since she left home to make her way in the world. Magnus didn’t need to know that. Let him think what he would. If he chose to believe she was now what he called her then, so be it. She wouldn’t apologize for where she came from, who she was now, or where she was going.

She was going to be the best ancient artifact Finder the Council had ever seen. Why? Because she was good at it. She was also a true believer. Daisy believed that the artifacts she found needed to be shared with the world, not just with those who could afford to have them in their private collections. That was why she loved working with Lauren. What she found went into his museums to be shared with anyone who paid the dollar donation to get in. It was good work and she was proud to be a part of it. Before long, she planned on being not only good, but the best.

Daisy was so lost in thoughts of her future grandeur—hell, Oprah was going to come back just to interview her—that she didn’t hear Magnus’ question. His tone said he’d repeated it more than once.

“What are you thinking about?”

Besides doing Oprah and doing you?

“Nothing.”

Daisy needed him to recognize she was a woman now. A woman who’d earned her way, not one who bought it. She earned her doctorate in Celtic Studies from the James Campbell School of Celtic Studies in Milwaukee under her mother’s name, not her father’s, and graduated with honors. She earned her fifth-degree black belt working endlessly with Sensei Schwartz and with Lauren. No one held her hand on the dojo floor. She trained with ancient weapons, Celtic and Oriental, and could wield most with alacrity.

She’d earned her way, Daisy thought, setting her jaw, sitting up straighter in her seat. Being a rich bitch hadn’t gotten her anything she considered important, with the exception of an introduction to Lauren MacBain and his world. And for that, she was eternally grateful.

“Whatever’s eating you is not nothing. You’re grinding your teeth, you’re unleashing your inner giant, and I can
feel
the invisible laser beams of death you’re shooting at me.” Magnus looked at her with narrowed gray eyes. He couldn’t hold her gaze long, the road was too narrow and too winding for that, but those few seconds were enough for him to let her know he saw right into her.

Magnus downshifted quickly, swerving to miss a lone sheep in the middle of the road.
Now you show up? Perfect.
Daisy slid into the door from the force of the car’s movement. Magnus straightened the car with little effort, moving back to the center of the road. Grinning, he up-shifted twice in rapid succession, taking the next curve faster than any sane person would have. Always a good driver, Magnus had honed his talent to a precision few drivers could match. Not for the first time, Daisy found herself wondering what other secret things he’d been up to since she left home.

A flash of Magnus spinning her in the air after she passed the test for her driver’s license suddenly came to her. She passed her motorcycle test shortly after that, something that did not win Magnus any points with her family. Daisy was thrilled and surprised that she’d passed both the first time. Magnus wasn’t surprised at all. She could still hear his words in her head:
I knew you would do it, Daisy. You can do anything.
He believed it. He was always sure of her success, even when she had doubts. She’d loved him for that too. Then.

“Spit it out, Daisy. I can tell by the cloud forming above your head, you want to give me hell. Stop brooding and have done with it. I don’t want to spend the time we have together with you gearing up to snipe at me for things I can’t change. If you’ve got an issue let’s deal with it.”

Daisy thought for a moment, trying to form words that would relay how she was feeling. This job with Lauren meant success for her. It signified her independence. It was vital to how she was perceived by others in her field of study. It was vital to how she wanted Magnus to see her. She was worthy of respect for what she’d made of her life, independent of what she was given, and Daisy needed Magnus to see that.

“We’re here for me to do a job. A job that is much more than just filming Lauren’s documentary. More than finding Celtic artifacts.” Daisy swallowed past the lump swelling in her throat. She took a deep breath and stared at his profile. So strong and so familiar, yet unfamiliar in a way that made her long to explore every new line, especially the new scars: one on his chin, one on his left cheekbone. He too had a life she knew nothing about. They had a lot to learn about one another. Did she want to know about the man he’d become?

No.

Maybe…

Yes.

The best place to start, she supposed, was with herself, at least with a bit of what was important to her. If he didn’t understand, he could get the bloody hell out of her life right now.

“This is more than a job to me, Magnus. It’s an extension of who I am now. You don’t know me anymore or what’s important to me, but you need to understand I’ve made this job my life. I’ve got a shot at being a Finder, and nothing or no one is going to stand in my way. I will be a Finder.”

There. She said it. He could help, or he could get out of the way.

Magnus stared through the windshield like the road held the secrets of the universe. His jaw ticked and he suddenly got so stiff, she was sure she could bounce a quarter off any part of him. One large hand gripped the steering wheel with such force his knuckles turned white. He waited a full minute before he answered her. His voice was soft and so controlled, Daisy thought he struggled to contain his emotion. That was probably a good thing. If he blew up in the confined space of the car, it would be a long drive to Kilmartin.

“You’re wrong. I know who you are. I see you, Daisy. The real you. I always have.” He looked at her, far longer than he should have give the twisting road. His sterling-silver gaze saw into her, warming her from the inside out, touching her in ways no one else had before or since. “You’ve created your own worth since your first breath, but you’re wrong about your work being your life. You will always be more than what you do and how you make your living. You are more than your job.”

Magnus turned his eyes back to the road. “You can close your mouth now. I’ll bring out my horns again, don’t worry. Then you can go back to hating me.”

Daisy shut her mouth and settled back into her seat as she reviewed every word he’d just said. Not about the horns, she ignored that. The stuff before that. How does one go about ignoring or dismissing someone who meant it when he said:
I see you…you’ve created your own worth…?

Disliking Magnus was getting harder by the second. She needed to get out of the bloody car.

“Are we there yet?”

Magnus laughed, the honest sound reverberating through her, melting a layer of protective ice she kept around her heart. Damn the man anyway.

CHAPTER SEVEN

They drove the rest of the way to Kilmartin in silence, which was just fine with Magnus. He was running out of things to say that didn’t start and end with “
let’s get naked.
”

He took the back roads north, switched back four times, and chose another route north again. No one followed them. Given who Daisy was, Magnus had to be on guard. That much money always brought out the crazies, and he’d been trained to deal with whatever threats came. In Daisy’s case, they were relatively few. She didn’t flaunt who she was, and most people didn’t associate the woman who did documentaries about Celtic society with the heiress she also was. It was probably the cargo shorts and hiking boots that kept her rooted in the earth. The fact that she was often dirt-streaked didn’t hurt her everywoman image either.

Daisy didn’t do tiaras and ball gowns. Not often, anyway. Her face was familiar to those who watched PBS and the BBC, but not to those who cruised the society pages. No matter what anyone accused her of, Daisy was no debutante. That didn’t mean he could let his guard down. He couldn’t. Magnus convinced Jordon not to send a team on this shoot. More bodyguards in this remote area would draw attention and word would spread. More men on the ground this time meant more threat, not less. There were two of Jordon’s men in the production crew that Magnus knew of, and probably at least one more he didn’t. They would have to make do with that.

The threat to Daisy wasn’t from some random fortune-hunter, although that was always something to be aware of. This time the greatest threat to Daisy came from within, from the Arm-Righ himself. Daisy didn’t know the extent of the threat. Neither did her father, or Argyll would be swarmed with Bennett bodyguards. Lauren was right. The best way to keep Daisy protected from the King was to keep her visibly working to find what the King wanted found, namely any artifact on the King’s list. The bastard had been salivating over any clue to the Druid’s Scroll since Taryn revealed that it was more than merely a myth. Lauren kept him at bay, insinuating that Daisy might know where to begin looking.

Daisy hit the button for her window, opening it about three or so inches. Enough to let in the sea air. The air was warm and inviting and it filled Magnus with a sense of peace. Then Daisy’s lavender and herb scent hit him. It was so light and fresh, and so uniquely her, it made him ache. He was in his native land, smelling the sea that reminded him of Orkney mixed with Daisy’s springtime scent that reminded him of Potters Woods. Two places he called home, and yet he’d never been as uncertain of his place.

When he finally pulled into the parking lot adjacent to the Kilmartin Museum, as Lauren had instructed him to do, Magnus was so eager to get out of the car, he was halfway to the museum door before Daisy shut the passenger door of the Rover.

Realizing what he’d done, Magnus paused and waited for Daisy to catch up to him. He held the door for her, listening to the tinkling of the chimes above the door as it opened. Something in the tone was familiar to him, but Magnus couldn’t place it. It was a welcoming sound, though, one that made him feel safe. This was a place of peace.

No sooner had they passed over the threshold, a woman somewhere between forty and fifty greeted them with a welcoming smile. She looked like an older, rounder version of Pink, with dark hair and a whole lot less angst. In fact, when she smiled she made Magnus want to smile with her. The woman wiped her hands on her tie-dye apron and reached out first to Daisy and then to him, shaking each of their hands firmly. When her hand touched Magnus, a bolt of energy passed through him, and for a second he swore he saw something ancient and knowing in her dark eyes before she blinked it away.