Midnight's Promise (35 page)

Guy threw up his hands. “Whatever the reasons, we need to stop Evie. I gave Malcolm my word that I’d keep her safe. She’s far from it with Wallace. And I doona want to have to explain what happened when Malcolm wakes.”

“If he wakes,” Phelan said.

Con stepped into the doorway, his hands in his pockets. “He’ll wake soon. I suggest if you don’t want to see a Warrior go off the edge, you get Evie back here posthaste.”

Before any of them could move, Rhys let out a shout for them. As one, the group rushed up the stairs.

*   *   *

Malcolm’s fury knew no bounds. Daal wouldn’t help him, the bastard. The only outlet now for Malcolm was death. And he just couldn’t believe it.

And then, Daal shifted in his mind, his growl feral and furious. The god had finally responded.

The pain of Malcolm’s injuries began to fade as strength returned. With a roar, Malcolm shoved the figure off him and stood.

“Evie!” he shouted and jerked free of the bonds. “Evie!”

She was slipping away from him. Malcolm could feel it as surely as he knew she was the reason he’d found the will to live.

“Evie!”

As the darkness began to fade, the figure came at Malcolm once more. Malcolm released his god and leaped at the figure, only to be met with air. He was falling, his arms and legs flailing to catch hold of something, anything. But there was only darkness …

Malcolm’s eyes snapped open to find himself in a room lying on a bed. He stayed still and took stock of his body.

“He’s awake.”

The recognition of that voice caused Malcolm to turn his head and find Phelan beside the bed. He looked around to find Aisley, Charon, Laura, Constantine, Guy, Hal, and Rhys standing around him.

There was just one person missing.

“Evie,” he croaked. His throat felt raw, as if he’d been shouting for days.

Phelan held a glass of water. “Drink.”

Malcolm shoved aside his hand and stood. The room tipped as the floor rushed up at him. He caught hold of the footboard before he fell flat on his face. What the hell had happened to him?

“Evie?” he called.

“Take it easy,” Aisley said as she grabbed his arm to steady him. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Malcolm turned to Guy. His leg gave out in that moment. There was a gasp from Aisley as he began to fall. Malcolm pushed her out of the way and landed heavily on his right side.

Blinding, white-hot pain flared through him. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth together to keep from shouting.

“Easy,” Con said. “Concentrate on your breathing. It’ll help with the pain.”

Malcolm wanted to tell them all to go to hell, but at the moment it would cost him too much. He did as Con recommended because the pain was too great. It reminded Malcolm all too clearly of being ripped to shreds by Wallace.

When he could take a deep breath and not feel like he was going to pass out, he rolled onto his back. Daal was raging inside him, but Malcolm had never felt so weak before. He hated every second of it.

Eventually the throbbing subsided so that he could open his eyes. Con still leaned over him, his face lined with worry. Unease rippled through Malcolm.

“What happened?” he asked the King of Kings.

Con glanced away. “You’ve been out for a while. We’ve been trying to heal you, but as you’ve probably guessed, Wallace’s blood has something new added to it. Death.”

“Is that what I was fighting?” he asked. Death. He would never have guessed that.

Phelan squatted beside him. “You’re here now. You can tell us all about what the bastard looks like.”

“A shadow.” Malcolm would never forget the feeling of that blackness surrounding him. “I thought Evie was there.”

“I think she was,” Rhys said.

Malcolm slowly sat up and realized he was naked. Aisley and Laura were gone, leaving just the Warriors and Dragons in the room. That uneasy feeling washed over Malcolm again. “I’m going to ask only one more time. Where is Evie?”

“We think she went to Wallace,” Guy said reluctantly.

Malcolm shoved hands out of his way as he painfully climbed to his feet. “I need clothes. Now.”

CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE

Evie bit back the nausea that threatened at somehow knowing where Jason Wallace lived. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to find, but it wasn’t the impressive manor house she glimpsed as she drove through the large iron gate and past tall hedges.

Lights flickered around the rock-lined turnaround drive made to look like the fire lamps of old. Evie brought the Jaguar to a stop and shut off the engine.

She didn’t want to do this alone, but it was her muck-up. She would fix it. After a deep, fortifying breath, she got out of the car and stared at the house. It was constructed of white stone and had impeccable landscaping.

Evie shut the door and walked around the back of the car. She glanced at the fountain in the middle of the parking area. Water trickled into the bottom of the fountain with an air of tranquility that Evie knew she’d never feel again.

Her boots crunched on the rock as she walked to the front door. The steps leading to the double doors looked as innocent as everything else around her, but she’d learned her lesson about Jason Wallace.

Nothing was as it seemed.

Evie reached the second step when one of the double doors opened. She hesitated, expecting to see Jason fill the doorway. When no one appeared, she ascended the stairs and stopped at the threshold.

She wanted to think that there was still time for her to turn around and wait for Malcolm. But it was a silly notion. The time for her to have turned back was before she did the ceremony to become
drough
.

Since then, she was well and truly on whatever path Jason had set in motion for her.

“Bastard,” she mumbled.

Hate filled her. She’d never felt such loathing for someone, and she’d certainly never found herself entertaining how to kill someone before. In answer, the black magic within her coiled, waiting and ready.

Jason Wallace had done this to her. He was to blame.

Or was he?

Evie wasn’t sure anymore. There was an argument the blame lay with her. She didn’t deny it. She was the one to make the decision, no matter that Jason pushed her to it. She could have refused.

It was so easy to say that now, but even as she tried, she knew no matter how things might have gone differently, she would have still walked down the same road.

As awful as it was to feel the black magic within her and know her soul was bound for Hell, it was better than watching Brian die, or thousands of innocents being killed.

“Working it all out, I see.”

She lifted her eyes to find a man dressed in navy slacks and a light green dress shirt as he leaned an arm atop the newel post at the base of the stairs. In his other hand, he held a glass with a splash of what she suspected was whisky.

His blond hair was combed back and the blue eyes staring at her were cold and dead. His face was narrow with unflattering angles. He had the look of a predator, of a man who knew just how powerful he was and wanted everyone else to know it as well.

“Jason Wallace,” she said.

“At your disposal,” he replied with a cocky grin and a small bow of his head. “Come inside, Evangeline. We’ve much to discuss.”

She remained where she was. “Tell me how I knew where to find you.”

“There is much you can do with magic. I planted my location in your mind when we met at Urquhart. You just didn’t realize it until I needed you to.”

“You know I loathe you. What do you want with me?”

Jason straightened and grinned fiendishly. “Sweet Evangeline, we’ll get to that in time. For now, I think you’d like to see your brother, would you no’?”

All it took was the mention of Brian, and Evie crossed the threshold. “Did you harm him?”

“No’ too much. You might want to discuss his use of profanity, however. He has quite a tongue on him. Oh,” Jason said and chuckled. “I should say, he has quite a hand on him.”

Evie had never cared for mute jokes, and she certainly didn’t want to hear them from Jason. “Let me see Brian.”

“In good time. Come with me,” he said and walked through an open set of heavy oak doors.

She followed him with her eyes and saw into the room. It looked like an office. A good enough place to conduct business. And it was close to the front doors.

Evie gradually followed until she stood just inside the office. She found Jason to her left pouring himself another whisky from a crystal decanter.

He lifted the decanter to her, and she shook her head. Her nerves were already shot. She didn’t need to add alcohol into the mix.

“Have a seat in front of the fire, Evangeline. You look as though you could use the heat.”

She was chilled to the bone, but from fear and hatred, not because of the temperature. “You wanted me to turn
drough
. Why?”

He laughed as he walked around his mahogany desk and sat. It was the typical large, ornate wooden desk that men with money owned. It was large to show they dominated the room, and ornate to prove they had money.

All of which was evident from the house itself. Evie wanted to tell him he had gone overboard with the desk, but somehow managed to keep her mouth shut.

Jason took a drink of his whisky. “I’m no’ in the habit of sharing my reasons with anyone. Why should I with you?”

“You went to a lot of trouble to make sure I was
drough
and bring me here.”

“All true. It was your Web site, Evangeline. It was so easy to read your need to find other Druids between all the mundane text you wrote. And that necklace.” He smiled slowly, maliciously. “It was too sweet to pass up.”

She walked to the fire and stood with her back to it and her hands clasped behind her. Her fingers hurt they were so cold. If there was going to be a battle for Brian, she had to be ready.

“All of this for a necklace?”

“No,” was his only answer.

She looked at him with disdain. “That’s all the answer I get?”

“For now.”

Evie wanted to roll her eyes at his theatrics. Jason Wallace really was running a show, and there was nothing she could do but go along with it and wait for her chance to strike.

“You wanted me here, Jason, and I’m here. I’d like to see my brother. Please.”

Saying please to someone she hated as much as Jason was one of the hardest things she had ever done. Evie suspected that she would be facing many such obstacles in the very near future.

Or at least as long as Jason was alive.

“Your eyes betray you, Evangeline,” Jason said offhandedly. “Every emotion you feel, I can see. You want to kill me.” He shrugged and swirled his whisky. “I can understand that, but there’s something you should know. I was dead once.”

Evie swallowed and tried to hide her shock.

“Oh, yes,” Jason said with a smile. “Well and truly dead. However, I set things in motion to prevent my staying that way. I returned to the land of the living stronger and more powerful than ever before. So you can try to think of ways to kill me, but it’ll never happen. I’m as immortal as they come.”

The room began to spin, but Evie refused to faint. It would be a show of weakness. Which couldn’t happen. She somehow stayed on her feet and righted the room so that it no longer spun around her.

Evie swallowed. “You want to frighten me into never trying to turn against you.”

“Well of course. I’d like to save you any pain. No matter what I say, however, you’ll try to do me harm.” His lips twisted. “You’ll learn soon enough, Evangeline, that I always have the upper hand. For every harm you attempt on me, I’ll make you pay in ten times the pain.”

Evie cleared her throat. “Now that you’ve informed me of that, how about Brian?”

One side of Jason’s cruel mouth lifted in a sardonic grin. “You’re no’ going to let up, are you?”

“You’ll find that I’m easier to deal with once I’ve seen Brian.”

Jason lowered his glass and gave a nod. “Brian, you may come up now.”

Evie’s heart thumped with hope and dread. She didn’t trust Jason. Based on all she’d learned of him, it didn’t go beyond him to have used magic on Brian.

Her worst fears were confirmed when Brian came to stand in the entry of the office. His eyes were blank as they stared straight ahead.

She refused to shed a single tear. Not for Brian, for Malcolm, or even for herself and how well and truly she’d stuffed things up for everyone.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded.

Jason’s chair squeaked as he leaned forward. “He may have been born without a voice, but the lad wouldna cooperate. I needed him … malleable. I’ll release him of magic and even my home.”

Evie turned her head to Jason. “On what condition?”

Jason smiled coldly before he lifted the glass to sip the whisky.

*   *   *

Malcolm wished he was the one with wings. The dragons had taken their sweet time in agreeing to bring him to Wallace’s. Con was against it, but it was Rhys who stepped in and agreed to do it.

Every second that ticked by and Evie got farther from him was like a dagger twisting in Malcolm’s gut. She meant … He shook his head. He couldn’t allow himself to think about what she meant to him, not yet. He had to concentrate on how he would get her free of Wallace.

Malcolm looked to his left and caught sight of a red dragon. A glance to his right showed there was a blue dragon. There was no doubt he owed the Dragon Kings a great debt now—one he knew would be called upon in the future.

They hadn’t had to help him, but they did. It was unexpected. Especially after how he had treated them before. The Dragons, much like the Warriors, didn’t seem to hold that against him.

Malcolm winced as he thought of the argument he had with Phelan and Charon before he left. They’d wanted him to wait for the others, but Malcolm seemed to be the only one who understood that time was of the essence in getting to Evie.

But then again, he’d seen the look in Phelan’s eyes. Phelan thought Evie was already in Wallace’s clutches. Even Aisley had cautioned Malcolm on what he might find once he reached Wallace’s mansion.