Midnight's Warrior (10 page)

Tara took in a deep breath. She might feel a little better without Ramsey’s body so close to hers, but she wouldn’t feel remotely safe until she was as far from Ramsey as she could get.

“Did Declan send you?” she demanded.

Ramsey shook his head and slowly lowered himself into a chair. “There is much you doona know. I should have begun at the beginning.”

“I know what a Warrior is. Several attacked me in Edinburgh.”

“Nay,” he said, his gaze intense. “The maroon one had been sent by Deirdre to bring you to her to kill. The others are my friends. We have a Seer at MacLeod Castle, and she saw what was going to happen. The others were there to stop Malcolm, no’ to harm you.”

“You expect me to believe you?”

“I hope you’ll listen to what I have to say before you start running again. Declan is close, Tara. Verra close. Our Seer, Sonya, saw a vision of Declan finding you, and somehow I was involved. I was sent here to protect you from Declan.”

Tara looked down to hide the tears that had gathered in her eyes. She wanted to believe him, because it would mean she wasn’t alone in the world anymore. But to believe him she would have to trust him, and he’d already proven he was a liar.

“Arran created the snowstorm to keep Declan away,” Ramsey continued.

“Arran?” she asked, her head jerking up. “Oh, God. Arran and Charon are Warriors as well?”

Ramsey rubbed his chin and sheepishly nodded. “The leader of us, Fallon MacLeod, didna like me coming here alone. So he sent Arran and Charon to help me keep an eye on things.”

Tara slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, her knees to her chest. Her stomach roiled with nausea after all she had heard.

She didn’t know what to believe or what to do.

“I’m here to keep you safe from Declan, Tara.”

She lifted her gaze to find him staring at her, a silent plea upon his face. He was so damned gorgeous. It hurt to think she had put such faith in him.

Tara held her stomach and crawled to her feet. She rushed to the door, but in a blur Ramsey was suddenly standing in front of it, blocking her exit.

“If you believe nothing else, believe that I doona wish you harm. I had plenty of opportunities in which to take you if that had been my intention. But I didna.”

“Move,” she demanded.

To her surprise he did, but hesitantly. Tara didn’t waste a second getting away from him. Her mind was too jumbled to think straight.

She needed to be alone, to think over all that she learned and all that she knew. A glance at the sky showed the snow had lessened, but it was still falling.

Arran had created the snow at Ramsey’s request. If Arran could control the weather, then what could Ramsey and Charon do? And did she even want to find out?

Tara walked into the castle and straight to her room. She sank wearily onto the bed, her mind going between Ramsey’s kiss and discovering he was a Warrior.

And a Druid.

She fell back on her bed and covered her eyes with her arm. How did she always manage to get herself into such awful situations?

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ramsey fought the urge to go after Tara. He needed her to understand why he was there and that he wasn’t a bad man. Yet he had seen the anger in her eyes, the fury and distrust.

Her beautiful blue-green eyes would never look at him with passion and desire again, of that he was sure.

With a resigned sigh, Ramsey sat on the couch as he stared straight ahead, going over his conversation with Tara again and again.

He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there when the door opened and Arran stepped inside the cottage.

“Is it odd that Tara is doing almost the same thing in her room?” Arran asked.

Ramsey leaned forward and scrubbed a hand down his face. “She didna take it well.”

“I’ve deduced that much already,” Arran stated flatly. He took the chair near Ramsey and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I still believe it was the right thing to do.”

“It was.” Ramsey didn’t like to admit it, but it was the truth. “Trying to continue to lie to her and keep her from discovering I’m a Warrior would only have grown more difficult.”

“Especially after that kiss.”

Ramsey glanced down at his hand where the ribbons of magic were slowly vanishing. “Aye.”

“That doesna mean you cannot woo her, my friend.”

“That’s exactly what it means. How are you managing with the snow?” Ramsey asked, deliberately changing the subject.

Arran shrugged. “It’s increasingly more difficult. It’s Declan. I know it. His black magic is strong, but he willna be able to halt the snow altogether.”

“Ah, but if it lessens, they’ll clear the roads and he’ll be on his way here,” Ramsey said.

“Unfortunately, you’re exactly right. Do you think you could add your magic to my power?”

Ramsey was so surprised at the request he could only stare at Arran. Finally he shook his head. “Nay. And doona ask again.”

“Why?”

“It doesna matter why. It can no’ be done.” Ramsey rose, but Arran quickly stood to block his retreat.

Arran narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You tell us just days ago that you’re half Warrior, half Druid, and then doona bother to explain why you can no’ add your magic to my power when Declan is after the very lass we’re here to protect.”

“Arran…” Ramsey was going to try and convince his friend to let it drop, but he realized it would be a futile attempt. Arran wouldn’t give up trying to discover what he was hiding.

“How bad can it be?”

Ramsey snorted. “What do you know of the Torrachilty Druids?”

“Only what you told us, which was that they were verra powerful and kept to themselves.”

“We were the warrior Druids, Arran. It wasna just our magic that was strong. We were set apart from other Druids because only the men could harness the potent magic that ran through us.”

Arran dropped his arms to his side, realization dawning. “That magic aided in your battle abilities.”

“Aye. Only once have I tried to use the full extent of my magic with my powers. The outcome was … horrendous.”

“I doona understand. You used your magic to help awaken Laria, and then again to destroy Deirdre in that final battle.”

“At great cost to myself. I only used a portion of my magic each time, and it took all of my concentration to keep it from expanding as it wanted to do.”

“As long as you doona call forth your god, you should be all right.”

Ramsey shook his head. “It isna that easy. The blood of the Torrachilty runs through my veins, but so does the blood of the god. It is mixed.”

“Oh, hell.” Arran rubbed the back of his neck as he began to pace. “Do any of the others know?”

“Nay. No one needed to know as long as I kept it in check.”

Arran stopped pacing and glared at Ramsey. “This mix you have, it’s the reason you wanted to come fight Declan by yourself.”

Ramsey didn’t deny it. There wasn’t a need. “I did. I’m the best advantage we have in taking him, but I couldna chance doing it and allowing anyone else to get harmed.”

“And Tara?”

“I knew that after one look at Declan and me, she would run. It didna matter if she returned to MacLeod Castle with me, only that Declan no’ apprehend her.”

“Shite,” Arran said, and turned his head to the side to look out the windows. “You might be able to take Declan on your own, Ramsey, but you’ll need someone to watch your back because Declan willna be alone.” He turned back to Ramsey. “Besides, Charon and I are no’ exactly easy to kill.”

“You know as well as I that magic can harm a Warrior. We saw what happened with Galen and Broc. And Duncan.”

Ramsey hated to bring up their long-dead friend, but he had a point to make and the quicker Arran comprehended it, the better.

“Declan could kill you,” Arran said.

“He might. But you and Charon will get Tara safely away.”

Arran looked at the floor and slowly shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “You have this all planned out.”

“I do. We doona know why Tara is so important or why she continues to appear in Saffron’s visions, but she’s the one who needs to be saved.”

“And no’ you?”

Ramsey shrugged. “Declan is a scourge upon this land, Arran. I would willingly give my life if it meant he would die.”

“What the hell is going on?” Charon demanded from the kitchen entrance.

Ramsey blew out a breath and met Charon’s furious gaze. “I’m explaining my plan to Arran.”

“What he’s doing is trying to convince me he can take Declan by himself,” Arran said.

Charon’s dark brow rose slowly. “You cannot be that daft, Ramsey.”

“Oh, but he is,” Arran hurried to say.

Ramsey lifted a shoulder to answer Charon.

“Is it because of your magic?” Charon asked.

As quickly as possible, Ramsey repeated all he had told Arran. By the time he finished, Charon was seated at the table with a surprised expression on his face.

“Shite. This is good and bad. Obviously, I agree with Arran. I’m no’ about to allow you to fight Declan on your own.”

“You have to,” Ramsey said. “He has the X90 bullets that can kill each of you instantly.”

Arran smiled as he popped the top of a Coke. “If his gang of mercenaries are quick enough, maybe. I doona intend to be that slow.”

Charon chuckled and nodded at Arran. “I like your thinking. Those mercenaries are just mortals. They have no magic, no power. Just guns that these,” he said as he held out his hands and his copper claws extended from his fingertips, “can easily slice through.”

“I would rather you both take Tara as far from here as you can,” Ramsey said.

“We’ll try to talk her into it before Declan gets here, but I’m all for a fight with that bastard.”

Arran nodded in agreement, a sly smile pulling at his lips. “I didna get my turn at Declan in the last battle. I’m eager to take out his mortals.”

Ramsey knew it was pointless to try and talk his brethren into what he wanted. They were Warriors, Highlanders who didn’t know the meaning of running.

They were Warriors because they were the strongest, the best, the undefeated of their bloodline.

Ramsey glanced at the window to see the snow was nothing but a light sprinkle of flurries now. “Declan’s magic is winning, but he willna be able to halt Arran’s snow. Enough fell that it will take him maybe another day to get here, two if we’re lucky.”

“We’re never that lucky,” Charon added.

“At any rate, Tara doesna trust me now. I doubt she’ll even allow me near enough to speak to her, but we all have to keep watch on her and the castle. I want as much advance warning of Declan’s approach as I can get.”

Arran leaned against the counter and shrugged. “We’ll sense his magic early enough. No’ even his ability to cloak himself will stop that.”

“Then we use it to our advantage.” Ramsey leaned on the back of the chair with his hands. “Arran, since you can control the snow and ice, stay out of sight from Declan, but use your power against him and his men. Charon—”

“I’ll do my thing.”

Ramsey nodded. “And I’ll do mine.”

“What is yours exactly?” Charon asked.

“My power is to manipulate mass, but I have to touch it first. Which means I can transform the mercs’ rifles into baby rattles if I want.”

Charon threw back his head and laughed. “I can no’ wait to see this. But you have to touch the weapon?”

“Aye. No way around that.”

“What of your magic?” Arran asked.

Ramsey didn’t have an answer for them, at least not one they would like. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

“I wish you had learned just what this mix of magic and power could do,” Charon said. “No’ knowing could be detrimental.”

Ramsey had learned firsthand how harmful his mix of magic and power could be. “A Torrachilty Druid learns from the moment he can talk about his magic. It’s difficult to control from the verra beginning, but eventually we master it.”

“Unless you have a primeval god inside you that amplifies your emotions and anything else,” Arran said quietly.

“Aye. It’s why I doona use my power or my magic verra much. Either one can easily get out of control if I doona concentrate.”

“Tell me,” Charon said, “why did only the males get the magic?”

“Because we were the only ones able to withstand the force of it. A few females were born with our magic, but they were no’ allowed to live.”

Arran’s face was a mask of horror. “Why?”

“Because they went insane from the magic.”

“Damn,” Charon muttered. “So you are the most powerful Druid we have at MacLeod Castle?”

Ramsey wasn’t about to point out that Charon had said “we.” This came from a Warrior who had kept clear of the MacLeods until this final battle with Deirdre.

“I am. Despite Deirdre’s magic, I believe the Torrachilty Druids could have ended her centuries ago.”

“Why did they no’?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

Arran tossed the empty Coke can in the garbage. “I say we begin to look. I’m as curious as you to know what happened to such a powerful group of Druids. My first thought is Deirdre, but you never know.”

Ramsey shifted from foot to foot and looked at the castle. “First, let’s focus on Tara and Declan.”

The sound of a chair scooting back on the floor drew Ramsey’s attention. Charon stood and met his gaze for several long moments.

“Let me talk to Tara,” Charon said.

The idea of a man, any man, whether mortal or Warrior, alone with Tara made Ramsey’s hackles rise. But they needed to convince Tara not to fight them, and if Charon or Arran was able to do so, then Ramsey wasn’t going to object.

“All right.”

Charon gave a nod before he stalked from the house.

Arran moved up beside Ramsey and said, “If he fails, I’ll try talking to Tara. She may no’ like us, but in the end, we just need her to be cooperative.”

The problem was, Ramsey wanted her much more than cooperative. He wanted her as she had been the day before—flirting and looking at him as if she couldn’t stop staring.

But that was long gone.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MacLeod Castle

Galen faced the people that were now his family as they stared at him around the long table in the great hall. Ten Warriors, including the lone female Warrior and Fallon’s wife, Larena, as well as eleven Druids waited for him to speak.