Dangerous Highlander

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Fallon stood on the battlements, his gaze to the east where they had last seen Lucan.

“He should have returned by now,” Quinn said.

“He’ll be here.” Fallon hoped Quinn didn’t hear the fear in his voice.

“I should have gone with him.”

“He wanted us to stay here.”

Quinn leaned his hands on the stones and blew out a breath. “We aren’t prepared, Fallon. Deirdre will strike, and we’ll find ourselves as her prisoners in the mountain once more.”

“We’ll be ready.”

“Stop!” Quinn bellowed, his voice echoing in the silence. “Just stop,” he said more quietly. “Admit that you’re afraid. Admit that we don’t stand a chance.”

Fallon faced his youngest brother and wished to hell he’d been the man his brothers had needed him to be. “There is always a chance.”

“Don’t try and sound like Da.”

Fallon was walking past his brother to return to the great hall when Quinn’s voice stopped him.

“What is that?” Quinn asked.

Fallon turned and followed Quinn’s gaze. He saw someone running toward the castle with something in their arms. Then there was a familiar whistle. “It’s Lucan. And he has Cara.”

Before Fallon finished talking, Quinn had jumped over the battlements to land on the outside of the castle wall and raced toward Lucan. Fallon sagged against the stones. He stayed there but a moment more before he started toward the stairs that would take him to the bailey.

Fallon paused and looked at the bailey. He could jump it. He knew if he let his god out, he would land safely. It would be a small sacrifice, something to test himself and his god. Fallon hesitated a moment too long and stepped away from the edge.

He was a fool to think he was strong enough to control the god as Lucan did. Fallon was too much of a coward to even try. He ran down the stairs and met Lucan and Quinn in the bailey.

“Is she hurt?” Fallon asked when he saw that Lucan carried Cara.

“Nay,” she answered. “He won’t let me down.”

Lucan grunted. “She’s tired.”

Fallon followed Lucan inside the castle. He didn’t miss the look between Lucan and Cara when he sat her in one of the chairs before the hearth. Something had changed between them, and it wasn’t difficult to figure out what it was. Fallon was glad for his brother. After all they had been through, Lucan deserved some happiness.

Cara lifted her gaze to Fallon, then shifted to Quinn. “I’m sorry. I really thought I was doing the right thing in leaving.”

“You are welcome here as long as you need to stay,” Fallon said.

Her smile was genuine. “Thank you.”

“I have news,” Lucan said as he built a fire.

That got Quinn’s interest. “What kind of news?”

“A lot, actually,” Cara said. “I found another Warrior.”

Fallon glanced at Lucan. His tunic was gone and could have been torn in battle. “Did he attack?”

“Nay.” Lucan dusted off his hands and stood when he finished. “He knows of us, of how we escaped Deirdre. He said he’s been hiding from Deirdre as well, and there are others like him.”

“Others?” Quinn repeated.

“Aye, others,” Lucan said. “He said we’re going to need him and the other Warriors when Deirdre attacks.”

“I don’t know,” Fallon said, and ran a hand down his face. “All this time we’ve thought we were alone.”

“Galen said he’s been searching for all of you,” Cara said. “He could be a way to win against Deirdre.”

Quinn gave a snort. “Or he could be a way to utter defeat.”

“Do you have another option?”

Fallon hated to admit it, but Cara was right. One look at Lucan, though, and Fallon knew there was more. “What else happened?”

Lucan sighed. “First, I must get food for Cara. She hasn’t eaten since this morn.”

He stalked to the kitchen and pulled some of the roasted deer from the pit and put it on a trencher. There was a little bread left that he added as well.

For a moment he stared at the food. There had been a time when his trencher had been piled with various foods. He missed the meals he had taken for granted.

When he walked back into the great hall Cara was at the table pouring herself some wine from Fallon’s bottle. Lucan lifted a brow at his elder brother. Fallon didn’t share his wine easily.

“She looked as though she needed it,” Fallon said in way of an explanation.

Lucan placed the trencher between him and Cara and motioned for her to eat. Once she had selected a piece of meat, he took one for himself. He watched her eat, the way her lips closed over the meat and pulled the bite into her mouth, and the way her tongue licked the juice from her lips. He grew hard just watching her.

She glanced at him. By the way she smiled, she saw his hunger. If they were alone, he would haul her on top of the table and make love to her again.

But they weren’t alone, and if Quinn’s glare was any indication, everyone knew how much Lucan wanted her. The question was did they know he had already tasted her? Did they know he had sampled a slice of heaven that he didn’t plan to ever let go?

“Lucan,” Fallon urged.

He finished chewing his bite and put his elbows on the table. “Galen also knew of the Demon’s Kiss.”

“What?” Quinn demanded as he moved to stand at the foot of the table near him. “How?”

Lucan shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Fallon slid onto the bench across from him. “What did you learn?”

Cara’s hand slipped under the table and rested on his leg. She was afraid to tell them, afraid of what they would say. He covered her hand with his own and gave her a little squeeze of reassurance.

“We know why Deirdre wants Cara,” Lucan answered. “Deirdre, it seems, is a drough.”

Quinn crossed his arms over his chest and cursed. “A drough. Why didn’t we ever think of that?”

“We had other things on our minds,” Fallon said.

It was true, but they should have recognized Deirdre for what she was. “Her use of black magic should have told us then.”

“But droughs have been gone for centuries,” Quinn argued.

Lucan looked at his younger brother. “Have they?”

“They’ve been hiding from Deirdre,” Cara said. “Deirdre uses their blood, the blood of all Druids actually, to become stronger as well as immortal.”

Fallon’s and Quinn’s gaze moved to the vial hanging around Cara’s neck. Lucan entwined his fingers with hers.

“You’re drough,” Quinn said into the silence.

“Nay,” Lucan said. “She is a descendent from Druids. A Druid, by nature, is a mie.”

Cara’s fingers tightened in his. “To become drough, Druids give a part of their blood in a ritual that lets the black magic in and thereby the evil. The ritual is supposed to be performed on a Druid’s eighteenth year.”

“Holy hell,” Quinn cursed. “Have you, Cara?”

She shook her head.

“But your mother was a drough,” Fallon said.

“It appears so.”

Lucan ran his thumb over the back of Cara’s hand. “Galen also informed us that a mie has the power to bind our god. We wanted to find other Warriors and a Druid. It appears we’ve found both.”

“I canna bind the god,” Cara said. “I know nothing of magic.”

“Galen said it came naturally.”

“Have you seen me do anything magical, Lucan?” she argued. “I’m not your Druid, but I will find you one.”

Fallon lifted the wine to his lips and took a long drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Let me see if I understand this. Cara is a Druid. Her mother was a drough, and Deirdre killed her.”

Lucan gave a nod.

“Deirdre is killing all the droughs for their magic.”

“We’ve no idea how old she is,” Lucan said. “With the growth of her magic, she’s able to become immortal.”

“Wonderful,” Quinn murmured.

Fallon scratched his chin. “Deirdre wants Cara, and I gather she’s something special because she has a Demon’s Kiss.”

“Aye. Deirdre would get the blood of Cara’s mother as well as her own.”

“Wait,” Quinn said. “If it was Deirdre that killed Cara’s parents, wouldn’t she have already gotten her mother’s blood?”

Lucan looked at Cara for an answer.

Cara took a deep breath. “I thought about that as we traveled back to the castle. I don’t think Deirdre needs the blood of a drough. I think she needs the blood in the Demon’s Kiss.”

“I agree,” Lucan said. “Innocent mie blood freely given in a black magic ritual that draws evil. I cannot imagine what kind of powers the blood in a Demon’s Kiss would hold.”

Quinn ran a hand through his hair. “This just gets better and better.”

“Does it matter that Cara hasn’t become a drough?” Fallon asked.

Lucan looked at Cara, who shrugged. “I don’t know,” Lucan said. “Galen said Deirdre was hunting all Druids, droughs and mies alike.”

“Is she killing the mies?”

Lucan threw up his hands. “I don’t know.”

“Galen would,” Cara said. “He was right, Lucan. We’re going to need him, and not just in the coming battle with Deirdre. He could have the answers to the questions we have.”

“And he may not,” Lucan argued.

Lucan wanted to believe Galen sided with them, but he had spent too many years being wary of everyone to trust so easily.

“We need to keep Cara away from Deirdre,” Fallon said.

Quinn nodded. “As well as any other Druid we can find.”

* * *

Cara rolled onto her back and yawned while she stretched her arms over her head. She hadn’t remembered coming to bed. The last thing she recalled was sitting with the brothers in the great hall as they spoke of strategies for the battle. It must have been Lucan who brought her to her chamber.

She glanced at the pillow next to her and frowned. After they had made love, she had expected him to come to her in between his turns keeping watch. It bothered her a great deal that he hadn’t. She should have told him she didn’t care that he was immortal and she wasn’t. She wanted to spend her time with him, however short that time was. Had he changed his mind? Regretted what they had done?

Her stomach clenched nervously. Or worse, did Lucan now believe she was a drough and want nothing to do with her? She wasn’t a drough, and she would prove it to him.

How?

She didn’t know. She didn’t even know anything of Druids and their sects, much less how to assure Lucan she wasn’t evil. But good or evil, Deirdre wanted her.

Galen said you could battle her.

Cara sat up and let the covers fall to her waist. It would take great magic to battle Deirdre. For a Druid who had studied magic all her life, it might seem like a simple idea, but for Cara, it was impossible.

She didn’t know the first thing about being a Druid or about magic. Battling Deirdre was out of the question.

And the tingling of your fingers?

Cara threw off the covers and pulled her nightgown over her head. She bathed with the bowl of cold water that had been left for her, then dressed for the day. When she walked to the great hall she found Fallon sharpening spears and other weapons.

“Good morn, Cara,” he said when he caught sight of her.

She paused on her way to the kitchen to say, “Good morn.” Once in the kitchen Cara rummaged around and found that someone, most likely Quinn, had taken several things from the village homes. She found flour and yeast to make bread.

It was while she was kneading the dough she glanced up to find Lucan standing in the doorway watching her.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Aye.”

He moved into the kitchen to stand across the table from her. His sea green eyes were warm as they raked over her body. “I remember coming in here as a lad and watching Cook make bread.”

Cara smiled. “I imagine she gave you a slice as soon as it came out of the oven.”

“Oh, aye. Even at such a young age women were susceptible to my charms.”

She paused. He was handsome, but when he smiled, he was devastating. “I love it when you smile.”

He walked around the table and pulled her against him. She tried to keep her hands that were full of flour away from him, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Ask me,” he demanded in a rough voice.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me why I didna come to you last night.”

Cara looked away. She didn’t want him to know how much she had wanted his arms around her.

He gave her a little shake. “Ask me, Cara.”

“All right.” She forced her gaze to his. “Why didn’t you come to me last night?”

“Because I knew if I did I would take you again, and your body needs time to heal. It took everything I had not to go to you.”

Of all the reasons she imagined he would come up with, her welfare hadn’t been one of them. “You could have just held me.”

“Nay,” he said with a small shake of his head. “It’s not enough. I need you in ways that leave me baffled. I couldn’t chance hurting you.”

“Even if I wanted you again?”

He groaned and briefly closed his eyes. “Och, lass, you’re killing me.”

Cara moaned into his mouth as he kissed her. The tight feeling in her chest disappeared at Lucan’s words. He hadn’t changed his mind. He had only been thinking of her.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him as he ground his hard arousal against her. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t.”

“And the bread will ruin,” she said between kisses.

Lucan ended their kiss. “You thought I didn’t want you.”

Cara thought about lying, but she realized to do so now would alter their relationship. They had been honest with each other from the beginning. “Aye. I did.”

“I told you yesterday you were mine.”

“Even though you found out I’m descended from droughs?”

“You’re descended from Druids, Cara. There’s a difference. Your ancestors chose to be droughs. You don’t have to make that choice.”

But in the back of her mind, Cara knew that she would have to make a choice.

“When you finish here, come out to the bailey. I would like to have you practice more with the weapons.”

She laughed as he slapped her on the bottom when he walked past. She turned and shook her head. “My same argument stands. Mortal weapons won’t do me any good against magic.”

“You never know,” he called over his shoulder.

Cara watched him until he disappeared into the great hall. Her smile never wavered as she finished with the bread and set it to rise.

She rinsed her hands and had started toward the great hall when the garden caught her eye. With one look at the plants, her fingers began that now familiar tingle. Herbs still grew in the weeds; at least the ones that hadn’t been choked out were still growing. With a little care, they could return.

Cara walked out of the kitchen and knelt in the garden. As soon as her hands touched the plants, a warm, contented feeling stole over her. She began to pull the thick, mature weeds out of the ground. It felt good to get her hands in the soil, even when the dirt got under her fingernails. There was something natural and right about it. She didn’t question her feeling, only followed it.

She paused in her task only long enough to put the bread in the oven, and then she was back in the garden. By the time noon came, the garden was half-weeded and the smell of fresh-baked bread filled the air.

With a slap of her hands together, she dusted them off and rose to rinse them. She turned to find Lucan leaning against the castle watching her much as he had done earlier in the kitchen.

“I couldn’t let the bread burn,” she said when he raised his brows.

“Nay, I suppose you couldn’t. And the garden?”

She glanced at the ground, happy to see many of the herbs were still in place. “I couldn’t stand around doing nothing.”

“I didn’t think the herbs still survived.”

She shrugged. “They may not. Most were overtaken by weeds, but I’ve given them a fighting chance now.”

“Hm,” he said, and held out his hand. “Fallon and Quinn are waiting.”

Cara didn’t miss the curious glance he gave the garden. She gathered the bread and took it into the great hall, where even Quinn smiled when he saw the fresh bread. The brothers eagerly cut into the bread, but Cara found her attention returning again and again to the garden.

And when she began to wonder if she could slip away unnoticed to return to the herbs, she knew something had changed.