Midnight's Promise (8 page)

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Authors: Donna Grant

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BOOK: Midnight's Promise
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“Then why are Ramsey and Logan there?”

Malcolm waited as Phelan muttered something and hushed those around him. Then Phelan asked him, “Will you believe anything I say now?”

“Only if it’s the truth.”

There was a small hesitation before Phelan said, “I’m worried about you. You’re pulling away.”

Malcolm had asked for honesty, which Phelan had given. There was no reason he couldn’t respond in kind. “I am. It’s for the best.”

“We can help.”

“Nay, you can no’. I’m too far gone. It’s better for everyone this way.”

“And what about Wallace?” Phelan challenged. “You know we need every Warrior and Druid to battle him. Are you going to leave us in the lurch?”

Malcolm watched a golden eagle soar upon the wind. “We’ve already taken out two
droughs
, Phelan. Now there’s Jason. After him, who will it be?”

“Hopefully no one.”

“Aye, but you can no’ guarantee that.”

“And Larena?”

He knew Phelan would bring up his cousin. “She has Fallon. She’ll be all right in the end, and Fallon will move heaven and earth to give her the family she desires. She doesna need me.”

“Damn but you’re stubborn,” Phelan murmured.

“You pot, me kettle.”

Phelan’s laughter filtered through the phone. “You just made a jest. Perhaps you’re no’ as far gone as I thought.”

Malcolm didn’t correct him. It was better if Phelan thought as he did.

“You’d let me know if I was wrong, would you no’, Malcolm?”

He sat there for a moment contemplating his answer. Finally he said, “Do you remember when you left Cairn Toul after being imprisoned for over a century?”

“I couldna remember anything of my family since I was taken as a lad. Why?”

“What did you do after Isla freed you?”

“I wandered all over Scotland trying to learn everything. Each day I thought it would be my last. Yet, somehow, every morning I kept going.”

Malcolm looked over the edge of the mountain where he sat to the sheer drop below. “Isla told me what she and Deirdre did to you.”

“Revenge is what kept me going, if that’s what you want to know.”

“I’ve already taken my vengeance on Deirdre. She’s dead and gone.”

“Do you want to find a way back to us?”

Malcolm thought over Phelan’s question but wasn’t sure his friend would like the answer. “When you come up with the plan for Wallace, let me know. I’ll help if I can.”

“Call Larena. She’ll want to hear from you.”

“Keep your woman safe. Wallace will still be aiming to harm her.”

“He can try,” Phelan growled.

Malcolm ended the call and tucked his mobile into his pocket once more. He wasn’t sure why he kept it. It would be so much easier just to toss it aside and not have to worry about getting calls and texts from the others.

But if he didn’t answer, they’d have Broc use his power to find him. Then Malcolm would have to deal with them face to face since Fallon would teleport to wherever he was and confront him.

It was better to keep the annoying mobile phone until such time as it wasn’t needed anymore. Which, Malcolm suspected, wouldn’t be too much longer.

The Druid’s magic suddenly swelled, and instantly his claws sprouted from his fingers to dig into the stone. He closed his eyes, his lungs locked by the crushing desire that slammed into him.

It had taken him most of the night to get his body under control because of the constant feel of her magic. With one wave of it, his cock was hard and aching, his body longing to touch her.

“Nay,” he said between clenched teeth.

Malcolm refused to acknowledge the craving that coursed through him. If he admitted it—or even accepted it—he wouldn’t be able to stay away from the Druid.

He drew in a deep, ragged breath and forced himself to remain where he was. If he allowed himself to wonder how no woman had stirred his body since before he was scarred, he would begin to ponder what made the Druid so special.

And that couldn’t happen.

Even with focusing on his lungs rising and falling, he couldn’t get the image of her out of his head. That brief glimpse of her feminine curves, of the patch of turquoise lace between her legs made his balls tighten.

He wanted to yank away the lace at her breast and between her legs. He wanted to lay her on the bed, her glorious curls spread around her as he feasted his eyes upon her body. His hands itched to cup her breasts and feel the weight of them in his hands.

He yearned to know the color of her nipples and hear her breath hitch as he suckled them. The consuming, devastating longing to sink into her until he was buried to the hilt ate away at him.

With his chest heaving, Malcolm tried to pull himself out of his musings, but he was trapped. His lips peeled back as he saw himself sink his hands into the Druid’s hair and hold her head as he filled her again and again.

Malcolm palmed his cock, but it wasn’t enough. He jerked his pants open to free his aching staff and took himself in hand.

The desire filling him was too raw, too visceral. He wasn’t sure if he could survive it. After so long without feeling anything but rage, he didn’t know how to leash back such reactions.

His hand began to pump up and down his length as his mind filled with more images of the Druid. Her tempting lips, her expressive eyes. That remarkable body he wouldn’t forget in a thousand years.

Malcolm’s hand moved faster as he pictured the Druid bending over him, her lips wrapping around his cock and taking him deep in her mouth.

He jerked as the climax took him, his seed spilling onto his hands and stomach. The release gave him a moment’s peace, but it wasn’t nearly enough to calm the raging need pounding within him.

Long after he was spent, he sat there trying to figure out what to do. If he stayed in Cairn Toul he would have to face the Druid again. Keeping his desire in check might prove more painful than anything before. If he continued on, he might be able to keep the evil from her.

If he left, his body would once more be his own. Not to mention he wasn’t the Druid’s keeper. She was an adult who could make her own decisions. If she was foolish enough to believe everything the stones told her, who was he to tell her differently?

Malcolm cleaned himself and rose to button his jeans. He crawled through the small opening and let the cool air wash over him. For long minutes, he stood on the small outcropping trying to decide if he would leave or stay.

The longer he waited, the more he began to wonder why the Druid had left Aviemore to travel during a storm. More importantly, why did she think she would be safe in the mountain?

And just who was after her?

What had she told him? Oh, aye. She knew he wasn’t the one looking for her because he hadn’t asked for something specific.

There was a chance it could be Wallace after her. Jason Wallace, after all, was a sociopath who seemed to have a backup plan for everything—even death.

Deirdre had done the same thing, but in the end they made sure she was dead once and for all. The same would hold true for Wallace.

Especially for what he’d done to Larena. That was when Malcolm knew he had to remain with the Druid. Even if it wasn’t Wallace after her, she was a
mie
and there were too few of them left in the world for him to walk away so callously.

Admit there is another reason. Admit you like how she makes you feel. Admit you want her, that you need her.

Malcolm squeezed his eyes closed at the sound of his conscience. He refused to admit anything. The Druid was pretty, her magic amazing. That’s all it was.

That’s all it could be.

He turned and ducked back into the mountain. With sure, confident steps he made his way to Deirdre’s—or now the Druid’s—chamber.

To his surprise, she was sitting on the sofa in the sitting room with her laptop open and pounding away on the keys. She was so involved with her work that she didn’t notice him for several minutes.

Malcolm leaned a shoulder against the doorway and observed her. Her dark curls were pulled away from her face in a queue at the base of her neck, but not even that could tame a few unruly curls that broke free and fell tantalizingly against her cheeks and neck.

She sat with her legs crossed and a pillow cushioning the laptop, her gaze intent and a small frown upon her brow. A notebook sat on the cushion and a pencil lay on the floor where it had fallen.

“Well, damn,” she mumbled and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. A heartbeat later, she lifted her head in his direction.

As soon as their eyes met, it was like a kick in his stomach. He was sucked into her gaze, enveloped in her magic. It was pleasing, wonderful.

And startling.

His body reacted instantly, urging him to taste her lips, to learn her curves. The need was so overwhelming he found himself almost going to her. Thankfully, he stopped himself in time.

“You’re going to get a stiff neck from the way you’re sitting and looking down,” he told her.

Her clear blue eyes gave away nothing as she shrugged and looked back at her screen. “Why are you staring at me?”

“It hadn’t occurred to me to look anywhere else.”

“Are you always so rude?”

“Always.”

She licked her lips and looked up at him. “Are you here to throw me out?”

“No’ yet.” Touching her would be a very bad idea. “It may come to that, but I’m hoping your good sense will prevail before then.”

She gave a loud snort and typed something without looking at the screen. “Doubtful.”

“Who are you hiding from?”

Wariness stole through her eyes. “I’m not sure exactly.”

“Then how do you know you need to hide at all?”

“I just know.” She sat there for a second, her head tilted to the side, before she asked, “Can I trust you, Malcolm?”

“Nay, Druid. You can no’.”

 

CHAPTER
NINE

Evie wasn’t sure if anyone had ever been so honest with her in her life. The stones didn’t like Malcolm about. It was obvious he didn’t want to be in Cairn Toul either.

She gazed into eyes so blue it almost hurt to look at them. A lock of his golden hair fell over his forehead to tangle in his lashes, but he didn’t seem to notice.

With a deep breath, she set her laptop and pillow on the coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. He was one of those rare men she could look at all day. It seemed every time she saw him there was another side of him.

Today he seemed calmer, more intent on approaching her another way to get her to leave. He would learn soon enough she wasn’t going to budge. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying him being about.

He was gorgeous with a magnificent physique that made her mouth water. To be so attracted to him was baffling. He was aloof, cold even, and his emotionless eyes would be off-putting if she hadn’t heard his seductive voice or felt that hard body beneath her palms.

The problem was she had. “I want to know more about Deirdre.”

“Why? So you can copy what she’s done?”

“No,” she said and rolled her eyes. He was always thinking the worst. “I want to know because you can barely stomach to say her name, and the stones think she’s the greatest thing since the invention of whisky.”

Was it her imagination or had there been a hint of a smile upon Malcolm’s lips? By his stoic expression, she had to have imagined it. Which was sad. She’d like to see him smile.

“You’re in a bad place, Druid. Is that no’ enough for you to know?”

She shook her head and got to her feet. Just as she hoped, Malcolm followed her into the bedchamber. She stopped at the wardrobe and looked over her shoulder to find him leaning against the doorway once more.

Damn him for being so good-looking.

Evie flung open the wardrobe and held out her hand to the garments within. “These clothes look pretty recent. How long ago was Deirdre here?”

“She occupied this mountain for a thousand years. In the seventeenth century she jumped forward in time to present day. She was here a few months before she was killed.”

Well. Evie hadn’t expected an answer, but she also recognized there was much more Malcolm wasn’t telling her. “Thank you. The stones say she was betrayed.”

“She was.”

“You know by who?”

His nostrils flared. “I do.”

“Will you tell me?” she asked, frustration edging her words.

“I doona think you really want to know. Deirdre was evil. She sold her soul to Satan to become
drough
. Is that really someone you want to know?”

Evie softly closed the wardrobe’s doors and faced him. “I don’t want to know because I want to emulate her. I want to know so I can make my own decisions about Deirdre, Cairn Toul, and my future. That isn’t too much to ask.”

It seemed all Evie did was watch for some emotion, some sign that Malcolm felt anything. He was like a wall of stone, immovable and unmoving. What could turn a man so … cold?

Somehow the reason for Malcolm’s animosity against her being in the mountain was in the telling of Deirdre’s story. But would it be enough to make her depart?

“You willna leave no matter what I tell you,” he finally said.

Evie looked around her. To some, the granite might seem impersonal and desolate, but not to her. “You can’t hear them. The stones, that is. They’re alive to me. They whisper of deer on their slopes, of tourists who climb as far up as they dare to take pictures. They will warn me if someone enters. There isn’t another place on this earth I would be as safe.”

“Safe from whoever you think you’re running from. But how protected is your soul?”

She blinked and turned her gaze to him. This was new, but she could see it wasn’t a bluff. He truly believed it. “You think my soul is in danger?”

“Malicious debauchery called this place home for a millennium. What do you think? You think evil that deep, that awful wouldna penetrate the stones and the earth?”

Evie rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Even with her sweater, a chill descended upon her she couldn’t shake. “I couldn’t even begin to answer that. Not without the facts. I’m not asking for anything other than the tale you obviously seem a part of. If you want me gone, the best way to do it is convince me. Start by telling me of Deirdre.”

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