Midnight's Captive (Dark Warriors) (43 page)

“Are you regretting it?” Rhys asked as he walked up, buttoning his jeans.

There were always clothes inside the mountain in case a King needed them.

“Nay. If we had no’, they would’ve fallen, Wallace’s evil would reign, and the selmyr would’ve slaughtered all the Druids. We’d have had to fight them anyway. Better to help the side of good in times like this.”

Guy strode up and shoved his long wet hair out of his face. “Most of the Kings have returned to their sleep. A few others have decided to remain awake.”

“Who?” Con asked.

“Ryder, Kiril, and Darius.”

Con nodded. “They’ve all slept for many centuries. Who is getting them caught up on world events and technology for the last decade?”

“We drew straws,” Guy said with a sly grin. “Hal and Laith lost.”

For the first time in days, Con found himself grinning. He spotted Tristan still in dragon form flying through the skies. “How is Tristan?”

“He did good.” Rhys frowned and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Too good. We all assumed he was battle-hardened, and he proved it today.”

“Do we tell the Warriors?” Guy asked.

Con hesitated for just a moment. “No’ yet.”

“No’ sure that’s a good move,” Rhys stated.

“It’s my decision. Who put Tristan on patrol?”

Guy shrugged. “Tristan put himself. Said he wasna ready to come out of the sky.”

Constantine’s gaze lowered back to his mansion. “I doona know how long the Warriors and Druids will stay. They’re welcome here from now on. Make sure everyone knows.”

“They’re going to have questions,” Rhys said.

“Just as we would. I’ll handle them,” Con said, and started for the house.

He wasn’t surprised when Rhys and Guy walked into the mansion with him. He’d given them an out, but as usual, they took their responsibility as Kings seriously.

As soon as Con was inside, every eye in the foyer turned to him. Fallon approached him first.

“Thank you,” the leader of the Warriors said.

Con let his gaze roam slowly among their new allies. “Our home is yours. All of you are welcome to stay for a meal, warm shower, a change of clothes, and all the whisky you could want.”

“I’m no’ passing that up,” Quinn said with a grin.

Con looked over Fallon’s torn and bloodied shirt before he shifted his gaze to Larena standing in nothing but a blanket wrapped around her. “There have been rooms assigned to each of you and fresh clothes waiting.”

“Sounds heavenly,” Larena said.

Jane cleared her throat from the stairs. “If everyone will follow me, I’ll direct you to your rooms.”

They all started for the stairs. Everyone except Malcolm and Phelan. Con watched as Phelan scowled after lowering his gaze from Charon and Laura. He took a step backwards, trying to keep out of everyone’s sight.

With a nudge to Rhys, Con gave a nod in Phelan’s direction. Con’s attention then turned to Malcolm. The scarred Warrior hadn’t moved or spoken since Con arrived.

“Malcolm?” Larena asked, her brow furrowed.

Malcolm slowly released a breath. “It’s time for me to leave.”

“Stay this time,” Fallon pleaded. “There’s no reason no’ to.”

Con was startled when Malcolm’s azure gaze landed on him. He waited, wondering what reason Malcolm would give for leaving the very people he needed. He might not know he needed them, but he did.

“There’s every reason,” Malcolm finally replied.

Without another word to Larena or Fallon, Malcolm turned on his heel and walked straight toward Con. Con stepped aside to allow Malcolm to pass, only to follow him back into the rain.

“What are you doing?” Malcolm asked, his back to him, when Con had shut the door behind them.

Con walked until he stood in front of Malcolm, ignoring the rain as he always did. “I doona want you to leave on our account. We’re allies now, Malcolm.”

“I’m leaving because it’s what I need to do.”

“You doona like being around your family? Do you know how much it pains Larena to see you leave each time?”

“I return,” Malcolm replied without any emotion.

Con clasped his hands behind his back. “There may come a time when you need friends.”

“I’ll only hurt those near me. They think they want me around, but they doona. I doona want their pity or their kindness. I made my own decisions.”

“Ah,” Con said, understanding dawning. “You have no’ been immortal for verra long. There will come a time you need someone. That time comes for all of us, no matter what we might tell ourselves in the long hours of the night.”

Malcolm’s dead expression didn’t change.

Con stepped aside again. “I’ll make the same offer to you that I made to Charon. If you ever find yourself in need of anything, you’re always welcome here.”

For a split second, Constantine thought he saw a flicker of something in Malcolm’s blue eyes, but it was gone before Con could name what it was.

Malcolm didn’t say a word as he walked away and faded into the forest.

*   *   *

“Leaving?”

Phelan growled his frustration as he turned to find one of the Dragon Kings behind him. Which of the dragons was this King? The Black perhaps?

“I doona think Charon would appreciate you sneaking off as you are,” the man said, and followed Phelan into the conservatory. He paused to rub his fingers on the leaf of some plant and cut his aqua eyes to Phelan. “I’m Rhys.”

“And like all the Kings, you know each of us?”

Rhys’s grin widened. “Doona be so sour. You make it your business to learn about all the evil businessmen, wife-beaters, child molesters, and such in the world. We make it our business to know the Warriors and their women.”

“I doona have a woman.”

“Nay. No woman holds you for more than a few hours,” Rhys said with a chuckle.

Phelan narrowed his gaze on the King. “What do you want?”

“I want you to consider staying for a wee bit. Charon was in a nasty mood when he couldna get a hold of you earlier.”

“Charon is … indisposed right now.”

“Jealous?” he sneered.

Phelan took the three steps separating them and got in Rhys’s face, anger sizzling beneath his skin. Was it jealousy that Charon had found someone? Phelan didn’t know, and didn’t want to think about it. “He’s my friend. I’m happy for him.”

“Then stay,” Rhys said, the taunting grin gone.

Phelan frowned and took a step back. There had to be a reason the Dragon wanted him to stay. “What are you after?”

“Nothing. Charon is a good man. He considers you a friend, a close friend. We’re just looking out for him.”

“Why did you no’ look out for him when Deirdre took him? Where were you then?”

Rhys lowered his gaze to the ground for a moment before he looked back at Phelan. “Charon is the only man you’ve ever called friend. Is that truth or no’?”

“Truth,” Phelan answered after a long hesitation, wondering where the hell all this was going.

“You Warriors are powerful. You’ve immense strength, speed, and other abilities added to each individual power given to you by your god. In times of great need, all of you will band together and fight.” Rhys paused then. “Why is it when the battle is over, you’re one of the first to run away?”

“I do better on my own.”

Rhys shrugged one shoulder. “And now that Charon has found Laura?”

Phelan glanced over his shoulder into the foyer. He could no longer see Charon and Laura, but he didn’t need to. He had caught sight of them heading up the stairs, their arms wrapped around each other seconds earlier.

He
was
happy for his friend, yet there was a part of Phelan that felt lost. Charon had been as alone as he was. Now things would return to what they had been before he met Charon.

“I’m happy for him,” Phelan said. “He’s wanted her for a long time. They look good together, do they no’?”

“They do. I know what it’s like.”

“What?”

“Not quite knowing what to do with the friends who’ve found their mates.”

Phelan sighed, suddenly weary of hiding his feelings. “Is it difficult to cope?”

“Aye, but their happiness makes it easier.”

“I’ll worry about that once I know Wallace is really dead. Until then, I’m going looking for him. Now, sod off, Dragon, I’ve hunting to do.”

He gave Rhys a friendly slap on the shoulder and strode out of the mansion. Phelan had no idea where he was going. Once he found his Ducati he had stashed in the forest, he’d set out on the roads and just drive.

It’s what he had always done.

*   *   *

Con stood under the overhang of the stillhouse with Rhys and Guy. “What do you think?” he asked.

“Phelan willna admit it, but he’s lonely,” Rhys said.

Guy leaned a shoulder against the building. “Malcolm is difficult to get a read on.”

“So you discovered nothing?” Con asked.

Guy snorted. “I didna say that. I said it was difficult.”

“Well,” Rhys urged when he didn’t continue.

Guy looked out through the rain at Phelan. “As long as Larena is around, Malcolm will fight with the Warriors.”

“And if she’s no’?” Con asked.

“She’s the only thing holding him to the Warriors or the Druids. I’d like to say he’d feel responsible to help them should the need arise, but I’m no’ sure I can.”

Con looked at the sky to see Tristan flying low. “Of all the Warriors, Malcolm spent the least amount of time with Deirdre. I didna think she’d get her hooks in him so quick or so deep.”

“I think it stems from what happened to him before his god was unbound,” Guy added.

Rhys nodded. “Could be. With all the time Phelan spent in Cairn Toul before—and after—his god was unbound, there isna a darkness in him like there is Malcolm.”

“What is it about Charon that got you to change your mind about helping them, Con?” Guy asked.

Constantine looked at his fellow Kings and grinned. “He went back to the village he was raised in. He made sure they were safe, that they were never without jobs. Charon made a name for himself with his businesses all the while keeping what he is a secret.”

“He did what we did,” Rhys said with a nod of understanding.

“If Fallon or the MacLeod brothers had no’ stepped up to lead the Warriors, I do believe Charon would’ve taken the challenge.”

Con left Rhys and Guy to make his way to the hidden entrance into the mountain behind the mansion. He shook off the rain and walked to a cavern on the right.

There he paused beside the massive cage that held the four sleeping silver dragons. It was only the magic of the Kings that kept the Silvers from waking and destroying man as they had been before being captured.

Male laughter filtered down to him from one of the corridors. He listened for a moment, then turned on his heel to find the Kings who had decided their time of resting was over.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Laura walked out of the bathroom and came to a halt. She smiled as she stared at the drop-dead gorgeous male who reclined on the bed with his eyes closed and nothing covering him.

She let her eyes run over every delectable inch of Charon’s muscled form. The last of the bite marks from the selmyr were healing, and the fact he was lying there with his eyes closed told her how exhausted he was.

Though she was loath to disturb him, she wanted to be beside him. Laura quietly walked to the bed. The only sound was the wooden floor creaking beneath the rug.

She glanced at the bed to find Charon’s chocolate gaze riveted on her. Her heart skipped a beat at the desire she saw.

Laura pulled at the belt holding her robe together. As soon as it parted, she heard Charon’s growl of approval. She let the robe fall to the floor, and then stood while Charon’s gaze raked over her.

He sat up and grabbed her hand to slowly pull her to him. Laura bent her knee to place it on the bed, and then found herself straddling Charon.

His thick arousal pressed against her stomach and made her blood run wild. She placed her hands on his chest and felt the hot, hard sinew beneath her palms.

In the next heartbeat, she was on her back, Charon kneeling between her opened thighs he held in his hands. Laura couldn’t calm her breathing, not when the need was so great.

He released her legs and leisurely caressed from her neck, over her aching breasts, down her stomach until he reached her sex. With slow, measured caresses he teased the dark curls that hid her.

She gasped when his finger lightly grazed her clitoris. Again and again, he would draw near the swollen nub, but he wouldn’t touch it.

The head of his arousal pushed at her entrance. Laura locked her eyes with his, and waited for him to fill her. With one thrust, he was seated to the hilt. Her body welcomed him, yearned for him.

Needed him.

He was all she ever wanted, all she would ever need. With him she felt as if she could conquer the world and stand against any evil.

With him she was complete.

“You’re mine,” he whispered as he stared into her eyes.

She placed her hand over his heart. “And you’re mine.”

“Forever.”

“And always.”

Laura’s eyes slid closed when Charon bent and took her lips in a searing kiss as his hips began to move. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave her body, her heart, and her soul to the immortal Warrior who had claimed it.

EPILOGUE

Ferness
Two days later

Charon smiled when Laura came up behind him on the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. They stared out the window overlooking the forest for several quiet minutes.

“Any word?” she asked as she kissed his cheek.

“Nothing. There’s no sign of Jason Wallace anywhere.”

“He’s probably dead.”

“Could we get that lucky?”

She skimmed her nails through his hair. “The breadth and width of Scotland is being searched, my love. You spent all of yesterday looking for the bugger.”

“We’re missing something. I know it.”

“What does Phelan think?”

Charon hated the frustration that wouldn’t loosen its hold. “He says Wallace is dead.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“I can hear the lie in his voice. By the way Phelan is crisscrossing Scotland tells me he’s doing some searching of his own.”