Midnight's Captive (Dark Warriors) (11 page)

“You mean Laura.”

“Innocents, but especially Laura.”

“Then what do you plan?”

“I need you to take Laura to the MacLeods. She isna a Druid, but Jason has targeted her, so they’ll give her sanctuary.”

Phelan gave a quick shake of his head. “Bad plan. Call Fallon and have him use his power to teleport and take Laura. That’ll leave me here to help you.”

Charon caught Phelan’s blue-gray gaze. “Jason wants me. Doona put your life in danger. It’ll be there soon enough. Besides, the MacLeods will need you with the others. The more Warriors there to fight, the better. Just take Laura.”

“No,” Laura said from behind him.

He turned to see her standing in the doorway with steely determination in her pale green eyes.

“No,” she said again. “No one tells me what to do anymore.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Laura had woken to the sound of male voices. For several minutes she was content to simply listen to the cadence of Charon’s voice, the sexy timbre and how it put her at ease knowing he was near. Until she heard her name.

Then she began to pay attention.

The mention of Druids, Jason Wallace, and the MacLeods was of interest. Something big was going on, and somehow it involved her. She could hardly wrap her head around the idea of Druids, let alone hearing Charon and the other man speak of them as if they were a part of their everyday lives.

But when Charon asked the man to take her away, Laura could no longer sit back and listen.

“Laura,” Charon began.

She held up a hand to stop him. “No. I left England because my family kept running my life. I made a promise to myself then that I wouldn’t let it happen again. Ever.”

“You doona understand,” the man said.

Charon sighed and motioned to his friend. “Laura, this is Phelan.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, and turned her gaze back to Charon. “Are you listening to me? The only one making decisions about my life is me. When I left England, I left that part of my life behind.”

“Maybe if she knew what was going on, she might change her mind,” Phelan said.

Laura gave a nod of thanks in Phelan’s direction. “A capital idea. Charon?”

Charon lifted his deep brown eyes to her, and she saw the indecision and worry that filled them.

“I recognize you’re concerned for me, and I appreciate that,” she said. “What Ben did was … well, it was unconscionable. However, that doesn’t give you the right to decide my life.”

“It does if I’m trying to save it.”

“Tell me what’s going on. Talk of Druids and teleportation. What the hell, Charon? You’re beginning to freak me out a little.”

When he didn’t answer, Phelan rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall. He walked to the table and poured whisky into a glass.

“Druids are real,” Phelan said.

Laura frowned. “Yes, I’m sure they were. Once.”

“Nay, as in now,” Phelan insisted.

Charon sank onto the couch. “He’s right. They’re real. We know several.”

“You mean like the fanatics they show on the news sometimes, dancing naked during some old Celtic holiday?”

“Nay,” Charon said softly. “These are real Druids, Laura. They have magic, good magic. They’re called
mies
.”

She stared at him for several beats, unsure what to think. The fact that he believed every word was evident in his body language and his tone.

Then something struck her. “If there are good Druids, are you telling me there are evil ones?”

“Aye. They’re called
droughs,
” Phelan said.

Charon rubbed his hands slowly together, his brow furrowed deeply as he stared at the floor. “They give their blood and their souls to Satan, and in exchange they use black magic. They’re evil to the core. It was one of those who was behind your attack tonight.”

“Ben?” she asked.

Phelan gave a snort as he turned away.

“Nay,” Charon answered, and lifted his gaze to her. “Jason Wallace.”

Laura put a hand to her forehead as her mind began to spin. If it were anyone else but Charon, she would think it was all a jest. But she could see by the penetrating way his eyes held hers that it was far from a jest. “You both believe this?”

Phelan was standing in front of her so fast, she hadn’t seen him move. “Aye, we believe it because we live it every damn day.”

“Phelan,” Charon said sharply, a low growl coming from him.

Laura lifted her chin and stood her ground until Phelan turned away. The anger in his blue-gray depths frightened her much more than the truth she saw there.

“There are Druids,” she repeated, testing the words out on her tongue. She moved to the couch and sank down beside Charon. “If what you said earlier is true, then I’m just a pawn to Jason?”

“A pawn to get to me,” Charon confirmed. “I—”

“We,” Phelan corrected.

Charon flattened his lips as he glared at Phelan. “Fine.
We
riled Jason a few weeks ago.”

“His mansion was nearly destroyed,” Laura said, remembering hearing something about it on the news. Then the impact of his words hit her. She gaped at him. “You did that?”

Phelan smiled proudly but Charon couldn’t meet her gaze.

“You better believe we did,” Phelan said. “We’d have done more, but Ch—”

“Enough,” Charon interrupted. He raked a hand through his hair, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “She doesna need to know all of it.”

Laura watched Charon rub his chest again. She began to piece everything together then. She knew she didn’t have all the pieces, but it wasn’t hard to fit them together. “That’s the night I couldn’t get ahold of you. You came back the next day with your shirt torn and bloodied. Were you injured?”

Charon refused to answer her, so she looked to Phelan.

Phelan gave a small nod, a frown troubling his brow. “You’re rubbing your chest, Charon.”

Instantly Charon’s hand dropped.

“Does it still hurt?” Phelan pressed.

Charon was on his feet, his back to them both as he walked around the couch. “Drop it.”

“Nay,” Phelan bit out. “I willna. You said you were fine.”

“I’m alive.”

Laura watched the exchange intently. Charon didn’t want her to know what had happened that night two weeks ago, but it appeared he didn’t want Phelan to know the full extent of it either.

“Dammit, Charon!” Phelan exploded. “Sonya needs to know her healing magic didna take care of all of it. And the MacLeods need to know as well. Every Warrior needs to know.”

“What’s a warrior?” Laura asked.

“Nothing,” Charon said the same time Phelan turned his head to her and said, “Us.”

Laura looked down at her bare feet, watching her toes painted a bright coral dig into the rug. It was tearing her up to see Charon so out of his depth.

He’d been injured. That explained the shirt, him rubbing his chest, and why he’d taken off to the forest whenever he could.

The injury couldn’t have been that bad. Could it? They had mentioned Druids and someone named Sonya with healing magic. Maybe the wound had been as bad as she feared.

Just what had she found herself in the middle of?

Laura touched Charon’s shirt, which she still wore. He’d kept his secrets from her because it was a different world. A world of magic, with Druids apparently.

And warriors.

Charon was definitely a warrior. She also knew him to be honorable and decent. If he had attacked Jason Wallace, it was for good reason.

There was only one thing Laura could do, and that was trust Charon. She had put her trust in him the moment he served her ale that day two years ago. Why should she stop now?

She lifted her gaze to him. It made her bristle to have anyone—even the man she’d yearned for—tell her what to do. But she was a liability.

Ben had tried to kidnap her to get to Charon. The why of it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she remove herself from whatever game was being played so Charon could do whatever it was he needed to do.

“If I have to leave, Charon, then I will. But on my own terms.”

His shoulders dropped at her words, and it was then she realized how desperately he wanted her to go. The sting of it was softened only because she was beginning to suspect the danger surrounding Charon was great.

“You can never return,” Charon said as he faced her. “Change your name, your hair color … change everything. You have to begin a new life, one that doesna include Ferness or me.”

It felt as if someone reached into her chest, clamped a hand around her heart, and squeezed. She’d made a home, a life in the village. After all she’d been through with her family, she finally had a place and she wasn’t prepared to give it up. “Ferness is my home.”

“Wallace is coming. He’ll come for me again and again. And he’ll hurt those closest to me.”

“If he’s as powerful as you think, then he’ll find me wherever I go.”

Charon glanced at the floor. “No’ if you go to the MacLeods.”

She slapped her hands on the couch in frustration. “Who are these MacLeods?”

“People who can protect you,” Phelan said. “The Druids there shield the castle with magic so no one can see it. Their magic is extremely powerful.”

Laura looked at Charon, but once more he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She didn’t want to leave him, because she knew if she did, she’d never see him again. He’d erase himself from her life, from Ferness.

The sorrow that came sucked her under until she couldn’t get her bearings. “How long will I need to stay at the MacLeods?”

“Until this is over,” Charon answered. “I doona know how long that’ll be. We’ve been battling this evil for what seems like eternity.”

She glanced at Phelan to see him watching Charon intently. “Will you come to the MacLeods?” she asked Charon.

When he didn’t answer, she rose and walked to him. She stood in front of him until his gaze locked with hers. Growing up in England, she had been meek and subservient to her mother and sister while her father pretended everything was all right.

She did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Until one day she snapped. Laura left her family behind and began to live for the first time. But it hadn’t been until she met Charon that she realized what she really wanted. Him.

Now he was sending her away. To protect her, yes, but it would mean never seeing him again.

“For so many years I was afraid to take what I wanted. I’m not going to stand aside now,” she whispered before she rose up and kissed him.

For a heartbeat he simply stood there, his lips unmoving against hers. Then, as if a dam broke, his arms clasped her to him as he roughly turned and pushed her against the wall to cover her body with his.

He seized, he captured.

He conquered.

Laura’s fingers delved into the cool strands of his dark hair. One jeans-clad leg wedged between hers, the rough denim rubbing against her bare thigh.

He kissed her with abandon. Wildly, recklessly. Madly. His tongue touched every part of her mouth as if he were learning her, exploring her.

All she could do was hold on to him as he deepened the kiss, urging her to let go. So she did. His hands held her even when her legs gave out from the sheer amount of passion coursing through her.

Dimly, she heard the glass door open and close and knew Phelan had left them alone.

She clung to Charon as his kisses made a path down her neck and into the vee of her shirt. Her breasts swelled, eager for his touch.

“Laura,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning her skin.

Her name had never sounded so beautiful as it did coming from his lips. He spoke it like a prayer, whispered and reverent.

And then he was kissing her again.

She clawed at his shirt until she found skin. He broke the kiss long enough to yank the shirt over his head, and then he claimed her lips again.

Laura ran her hands up his chest, learning every valley and ripple of steely muscle beneath his warm skin. How many times had she seen him without his shirt and longed to touch him?

Her lungs seized when his hand touched her bare thigh and slowly, leisurely moved upward. He squeezed her butt and ground his hips against her. Instinctively, she rocked her hips, his hard arousal causing her own passion to quicken.

His hand moved to her hip, where he rested it for the barest of moments, fingering the lace of her panties, before he continued his upward journey to her waist and stopping just short of her breasts.

Laura moaned with need, silently urging him to cup her breast. She needed him to touch her like she needed the air to breathe.

His thumb grazed the underside of her breasts, causing her nipples to harden. Laura wrapped a leg around his, anything to bring him closer and quench the burgeoning need that was rapidly overtaking her.

And then, finally, he cupped her breast.

Laura sighed into his mouth, but that sigh quickly turned into a moan as he ran his thumb over her nipple.

He pressed his hard cock against her, urging her higher. Laura sank her nails into his shoulder when he rolled her nipple between his fingers.

She was panting with need. Every fiber of her being centered on Charon and his touch.

Suddenly, he gripped the edge of her shirt and ripped it open. The sound of buttons hitting the wood floor and bouncing away was drowned out by his low moan.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Laura didn’t shy away from him as Charon gazed at her breasts. She’d always thought them too big, but with the way he was looking at her, she suddenly enjoyed them.

She tucked a finger in the waistband of his jeans and heard his quick intake of air as that same finger grazed the head of his cock.

In quick succession, she unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his zipper. He wore nothing beneath, which made her smile, because, somehow, she wasn’t surprised.

Charon grinned as he bent and lifted her in his arms before striding into his bedroom.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Charon’s body burned. And it was all because of Laura. Her kisses, her touch sent him careening over the edge, an edge he’d been afraid of.

But now … now he didn’t care. It was all about her. Touching her, learning her.