Midnight's Warrior (34 page)

Declan laid his hand flat over the book. A hiding spell fell from his lips that would keep the book hidden from his enemies.

Because no matter how many wards and spells he put around his home, or how many mercenaries Robbie hired, Declan knew the Warriors would come for him.

And he wanted them to.

Their interference would end as soon as they attacked. And Declan knew it wouldn’t be long. Not after what he’d done to Tara.

He chuckled, marveling at his own cleverness. To make Tara think her friends were her enemies, and her enemies her friends. It was priceless, and she’d never know the difference.

There was no need to convince her to come to him. Not now at least. She thought he was her savior, so she would come on her own. And once at the mansion she would willingly become
drough
—thinking all the while she was doing good magic.

How different things would be had he done this ten years ago. The Warriors of MacLeod Castle would have been the first thing Declan got rid of.

“Soon,” he murmured, and rose to replace the spell book behind two larger ones on the bookshelf.

Declan resumed his seat and reclined back in his chair with his ankles crossed and resting on his desk. This room was one that no one was allowed into except Robbie. This was his room where he did nearly all his spells.

The room where he had honed his magic over the years.

And the room where he had first encountered the Devil.

That day had forever changed his life. Because of it, this small room, sparsely furnished with only the bare minimum, was the place he came to dwell upon his magic.

Unlike his office, which was more for show than anything else. His office displayed his power and his wealth, and when he conducted business in it, it proved to his business associates that he wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

Declan turned the ruby cuff link and clasped his hands over his stomach while he imagined how he would rule the world.

*   *   *

Tara slowed and then stopped the Land Rover as she neared Declan’s mansion. Even in the dark and through the trees she could see the tall structure that lit up the night.

She’d left him when he had offered her sanctuary. Had run from him repeatedly, and feared him like no other. Would he see her? And more importantly, would he forgive her?

With a long sigh, she eased her foot on the gas pedal and drove into Declan’s drive. The large metal gates blocked her entrance, but before she could lower the window and press the intercom, the gates opened.

Tara leaned forward and looked out the windshield. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered.

She maneuvered the car around the massive fountain situated in the circular drive and parked at the front steps. Tara put the SUV in park and turned it off.

For just a moment she sat there, rehearsing how she would greet Declan. The all-too-familiar pain stabbed into her at the base of her skull.

Tara grabbed her head and gritted her teeth as the agony sliced through her. Images of people flashed in her mind like snapshots, but one repeated over and over.

It was Ramsey.

She slammed her hand against the steering wheel. “No. No!”

Instantly, the pain and the images stopped.

With a shaky breath she lifted her head. It was now or never. Tara opened the door of the Land Rover and stepped into the snow.

And waiting for her on the steps was Declan.

“I didna think you’d ever return to me,” he said with a welcoming smile. “I’m glad to have you home, Tara.”

When he spread his arms, she eagerly walked into them. “I’m so sorry for running from you,” she said.

“Think nothing of it, lass.”

Tara pulled back, and frowned when she saw the black marks over the left side of his face and down his neck. The marks weren’t an elaborate tattoo.

“What happened?”

Declan shrugged. “It’s nothing I can no’ handle. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm. I have your old room waiting. And I did some shopping for you. I think you’ll enjoy the clothes.”

Tara didn’t care about the designer clothes. All she wanted was to find a home, a place where she could feel safe and happy.

An image of MacLeod Castle flashed in her mind, but she pushed it away and smiled at Declan.

*   *   *

“What the hell?” Fallon murmured.

Phelan shook his head in confusion. “That’s—”

“Tara,” Ramsey finished for him.

Arran said, “I doona understand how she got free. I saw you put those spells on the prison, Ramsey.”

Ramsey couldn’t take his eyes off her. He clenched his hands when he saw Declan wrap his arms around her. A growl sounded deep in Ramsey’s throat, the need for blood—Declan’s blood—was fierce.

“Calm down,” Charon said from beside him. “You willna do her any good if you lose control.”

Ramsey didn’t look away until Tara was inside the mansion and the door closed behind her. Then he raked a hand through his hair and paced behind the trees that blocked them from view.

“She shouldna have been able to get free,” he said.

Fallon stood from beside Larena. “I’m going to return to the castle and see what happened. I’ll be back soon. Doona start without me,” he warned.

“We willna,” Arran said.

Just seconds after Fallon teleported away, all five of them turned at once to the sound of approaching footsteps. And in a blink, they all released their god.

“Easy,” Malcolm whispered when he came into view, his hands held up in front of him.

Larena gasped and tamped down her god. “Malcolm,” she said, and ran to her cousin and hugged him.

Ramsey met Malcolm’s gaze, and knew it hadn’t been coincidence that brought Malcolm to Declan’s estate.

“What are you doing here?” Larena asked him when she stepped back.

Malcolm glanced at Declan’s mansion. “I felt a Druid, but no’ just any Druid. The magic was … off.”

“How so?” Ramsey asked.

Malcolm rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Like her magic couldna decide if it was
mie
or
drough
. While she was in the café, I climbed atop the Land Rover to see who she was. Imagine my surprise when we arrived here. And I sensed other Druids.”

“Her name is Tara,” Larena said. “Tara Kincaid. We’ve been sheltering her from Declan.”

One of Malcolm’s brows lifted. “She didna appear afraid of him after what I just saw.”

“That’s because Declan switched her memories,” Ramsey said. “She thinks the people who are her friends are now her enemies and vice versa.”

“Damn,” Malcolm murmured.

Phelan grunted. “That’s putting it mildly, mate.”

Malcolm sent him a flat look before turning back to Ramsey. “I’d have thought precautions would have been taken to ensure she didna leave the castle.”

“They were,” Arran answered.

Fallon appeared beside Larena, his face twisted with grief.

“What is it?” Larena asked. “What happened?”

But Ramsey knew the moment Fallon’s gaze met his.

“Fiona is dead. By magic,” Fallon said.

Larena covered her mouth with her hand and bent over at the waist, her tears as silent as the scream she kept locked within her.

Ramsey knew this because he felt the same way. What was worse was that he knew who was responsible for Fiona’s death.

“This doesna mean Tara did it,” Charon said.

Ramsey shook his head and looked at the mansion. “Declan turned her against us, and in doing so, made sure she would do whatever it took to get free.”

“You think she killed Fiona?” Phelan asked.

Ramsey shrugged. “I’d have to feel the magic used on Fiona to know, but I think she did. No’ on purpose though. Regardless of what Declan did to Tara, its no’ in her to kill.”

“I agree,” Arran said.

Ramsey looked at Fallon to find him comforting Larena, their arms locked around each other. Yet, for all his talk, it wasn’t just Declan who was responsible for Fiona’s death. It was also himself.

He’d been the one to spell the prison. He’d been the one to make sure someone was left behind with Tara.

He’d been the one who was overconfident that Tara wouldn’t be able to leave.

“Carrying the weight of the dead is a heavy burden,” Malcolm whispered.

Ramsey looked into his blue eyes and nodded. “I’ll have to tell Braden.”

“Nay.” Larena finally spoke as she wiped at her tears. “I’ll do it. You feel responsible, Ramsey, but you aren’t to blame.”

Fallon stopped Larena when she started to walk away. “Let’s wait until after the battle. Braden doesna need to be thinking of that when he needs to stay safe.”

Larena nodded in agreement, but her tears didn’t slow.

Malcolm stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and looked at Ramsey. “So. What’s the plan, and how can I help?”

CHAPTER FORTY

The moon was high in the sky when Ramsey stepped out from behind the trees and made his way to the front door of the mansion. Declan’s wards and spells didn’t stop the Warriors from venturing onto his property, just the house.

Once again, Declan’s arrogance was going to cost him. And if Ramsey had any say in it, the cost would be Declan’s life.

Ramsey tried not to think of Tara as she had been at the castle when she tried to kill him or when he locked her in the dungeon. He tried not to think of her in Declan’s arms, or the fact that she’d killed Fiona.

Instead, he remembered Tara as they had been the night before. Her smiles, her sighs. Her body sliding sensuously against him. The way she whispered his name as they lay wrapped in each other’s arms after making love.

He would fight to return Tara to the woman she had been. If it came down to it, Ramsey was willing to die in order to gain her freedom from Declan.

It was then he realized just how deep his feelings went for Tara. Feelings deeper and stronger than he’d ever had for anyone.

Or ever would.

Ramsey paused beside the Land Rover and glanced inside it. To his right his enhanced hearing picked up a grunt that came from one of the mercenaries as his plan went into effect.

He waited as, one by one, the guards were killed.

“Ramsey?” Larena whispered from behind him.

She was already invisible, waiting for him to finish getting through the wards so she could carry out her part.

“Stay behind me,” Ramsey said with a small shift of his head to the side. “You’ll feel when the magic begins to fade. When I start toward the steps, you’ll be able to get in. Doona wait on me. Get inside as quickly as you can.”

“All right,” came her soft reply.

Ramsey knew Larena would be safe. It was the only reason he had bid her to gain entrance. As long as she stayed invisible no one would even know she was there.

Anger that Ramsey had kept at bay rose within him like a tidal wave. It thundered, gaining momentum as it poured through him. And he didn’t stop it.

He welcomed it, urged it. Embraced it.

Ethexia roared inside Ramsey, encouraging him to find Declan and rip his heart out. His god wanted blood and death, and for once Ramsey felt the same.

They had thought Declan wasn’t the adversary Deirdre had been. They had been wrong, so very wrong. But it was time to right things, to mete out justice as only a Warrior and Druid could.

Ramsey called to his magic. His lips tilted up slightly as the magic eagerly answered him. It filled him, diminishing his anger so he could focus properly. A balance had somehow been struck, and it was all Ramsey needed to proceed.

He lifted his hands, palms out, toward the mansion. Because of his gift of being able to determine what kind of magic or spell was used, after just one touch of the wards around the mansion Ramsey knew how to remove them.

The words from the first spell his father had taught him tumbled from his lips. It wasn’t a reversal spell so much as one that—if a Druid had enough magic—could destroy whatever magic stood in the way.

As the last word was spoken, Ramsey’s smile grew when the wards shattered. They couldn’t be seen, but the magic could be felt as it melted away into nothing.

“You did it,” Larena whispered.

But Ramsey didn’t have time to answer her. The door to the mansion flew open to reveal Declan.

“I knew a Warrior would come to claim Tara,” Declan said carefully as he took a step out of his home.

Ramsey didn’t respond, allowing Declan to move farther and farther from the house. Ramsey wanted him as far from Tara as he could get him.

“Does he know the wards are gone?” Larena asked softly.

Without moving his lips, Ramsey said, “Nay.”

“You should be dead,” Declan continued. “We put several X90 bullets into you, Warrior.”

Ramsey lifted his lips in a sneer. “I thought you knew,
drough.
Warriors are notoriously difficult to kill.”

“No’ if I sever your head,” Declan spat angrily.

Ramsey laughed. It didn’t take much to incense Declan. Which was just what Ramsey needed to know. “You can certainly try. I think you’ll find it harder than you think. Tell me, how are you feeling?”

Declan’s eyes narrowed. “I’m no’ dead.”

“No’ yet. I can remedy that.”

“Tara is mine, Warrior. Leave now, and I willna kill you.”

Ramsey smirked. “I thought you knew us better than that. We doona walk away from what is ours. Hand her over to me now and fix whatever you’ve done to her, and I willna make you suffer before I kill you.”

“You’ll never get near me. I’ve warded the house with powerful spells,” Declan taunted.

Ramsey lifted a brow. “Are you sure?”

“You willna be able to rest a foot on these steps.”

Without another word Ramsey closed the gap between them and stood upon the bottom step. “You were saying?”

“How?” Declan murmured, his mouth gaping and his eyes bulging with confusion.

“I thought you knew of the Torrachilty Druids. If you did, you’d know that I was one.”

“Nay,” Declan said with a shake of his head.

“Oh, aye.”

Ramsey sent a jolt of magic toward Declan which knocked him backward so that he tumbled inside the house. Something brushed past Ramsey, and he knew it was Larena.