Midnight's Temptation

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Phelan slowly inched the Ducati onto the ferry before turning off the engine and resting his hands on his thighs.

“Mallaig,” Aisley said. “This is where Logan came searching for … the Tablet of Orn, right?”

“Aye. He and Gwynn met on the dock behind us.”

“Can you feel Druid magic?”

He nodded slowly. “Oh, aye. No’ so much on Mallaig. Here the magic is … residual. This was once a great stronghold of Druids that even Deirdre feared nearing. I suspect there are still a few Druids residing here, but their magic is almost gone.”

“That’s sad,” Aisley said as she removed her helmet and got off the bike. She turned to look at Mallaig. “Is there no way for the Druids to get their magic back?”

“Too many years mixing with those that have no magic have diluted things. I doona know if there’s an answer, beauty.”

“And Skye? Are there Druids there?”

Phelan’s gaze turned to Armadale, where they would be docking. It was considered Skye’s back door. Armadale was located on the low-lying Sleat Peninsula, but his gaze was drawn to the startling jagged peaks of the Cuillin mountains that towered above Armadale some fifteen miles farther inland.

“There are Druids,” Phelan finally answered. “I’ve been to Skye a few times over my years, but no’ once did I encounter a Druid.”

Aisley’s head swung to him with her forehead furrowed. “Why is that? Are they frightened of you?”

“Most likely. Which begs the question, beauty. Why are you no’ scared of me?”

“It’s your eyes,” she said softly.

Phelan tugged her against him so their conversation wouldn’t go beyond them. “You’ve no’ asked to see me in Warrior form.”

“Should I have?”

“Aye.” He studied her fawn-colored eyes. He had seen the marks on her wrists. She had an explanation for them, and he hadn’t found a Demon’s Kiss. But how could he have missed that she hadn’t asked to see his Warrior form?

Was that because she’d seen a Warrior before? If that was the case, that could only mean she was involved with Jason Wallace.

Phelan’s hand tightened on her hip. “Tell me why you’ve no’ been curious to see what I look like.”

“Do you think I’ll run from you?” she asked with a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Stop, Aisley. Doona jest. Tell me the truth.”

She glanced away before she placed her hand atop his arm. “I feel the devastating power inside you. You fairly hum with it. The way you move, the way you take everything in. You’re a predator, Phelan. You’re dangerous and ferocious. I know your skin and eyes change. I know you’ll have claws and fangs, but I don’t have to see that change to know the fierce, untamed man before me is a Warrior.”

It wasn’t exactly an answer. She was hiding something, and a part of him knew he wouldn’t like what it was. But he couldn’t push her.

What he found with her was too pleasant to shake up. If her explanations of her past didn’t make sense, he would think she was a drough.

But he knew that couldn’t be the case. He’d have felt it in her magic. Aisley’s magic was too thrilling and wonderful to be anything but mie.

So whatever was in her past they would face together when she trusted him enough to share it. Until then, he would take each day they had as a gift that she hadn’t run from him.

Twenty minutes later they docked at Armadale. Instead of taking the road leading to Skye, Phelan drove them left from the ferry terminal.

“Where are we going?” Aisley asked.

“I’m hungry.”

She held onto him as he drove them slowly down the landward end of the pier to The Shed. He stopped in front of the tiny café and once more shut off the engine of the bike.

“I hope it’s better than its name,” Aisley whispered.

“It is. Trust me. We can spend a little time here,” he said when he saw her looking at the Ragamuffin shop, a clothing store.

She looked back at him and smiled when her stomach growled. “Food sounds good.”

He grabbed the door to the café to open it for her when his phone rang. “Grab us a table. I’ll be right there.”

She hesitated a minute before she walked inside. Phelan watched her find a table as he pulled his mobile phone out of his back pocket.

As soon as he saw Charon’s name on the screen he answered it. “Are you all right?” he asked.

There was a choked laugh on the other end. “Aye. Should there be anything wrong?”

“Have you no’ spoken with Fallon?”

Charon was silent for several seconds. “What’s going on?”

He blew out a breath and walked away from the café door. “Are you feeling any effects from the wound you suffered at Wallace’s mansion?”

“You mean the wound that your blood couldna heal?” Charon asked tightly, softly.

“Aye,” Phelan ground out. “I need to know if it’s doing more than just bothering you. Laura and I’ve both seen you rubbing your chest where the blade entered you.”

Charon let out a string of cussing. “There’s something different with the drough blood on that blade. I knew it felt odd. What is it?”

“I doona know. Fallon told me Larena says there’s something wrong with her.”

“Shite. I’m beginning to miss the days when it was easy to battle Deirdre.”

“When was that ever easy?”

“It wasna at the time, but now it sure seems like it.” Charon let out a long breath. “The wound still bothers me sometimes. I’ll admit that. But I’m myself.”

“Larena isna.”

“She died.”

“You practically did as well,” Phelan stated.

Charon laughed wryly. “Ah, but then you were there. Your blood saved me.”

“You doona know that.”

“I do. Sonya told me how everyone in that car put their blood in my wound, but it didna do much. Until you added yours.”

“Mine should’ve healed you instantly.”

“Which tells me, my friend, that Wallace has been busy.”

Phelan pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I think I despise Wallace more than I ever did Deirdre.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Me neither. The truth is, this bastard is conniving. We never see how he’s going to hit us.”

“Until it’s too late. I know. Is Fallon talking to Britt about Larena? Britt might be able to help.”

Phelan glanced inside the café to see Aisley staring absently at the menu. “He has her focused on finishing her current work. When that’s complete, she’ll turn to Larena.”

“I saw how he reacted when he thought Larena was dead. I wouldna want to see what becomes of him if he loses her a second time.”

“It’s good that Aiden found Britt then.”

“Speaking of finding things,” Charon said conversationally. “How is your Druid? What’s her name again?”

Phelan saw Aisley rise from her chair and look to the door. She was thinking of running, he knew it. “Charon, I’ve much to tell you about her, but it’s going to have to wait. I’ll be in contact soon.”

He ended the call and strode into the café. As soon as she saw him, she sat back down. “You were going to leave,” he said as he joined her.

“I … yes.”

“Why?” After all they’d been through he couldn’t believe she would start running again.

She dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t know,” came her muffled reply.

Phelan pulled her hand from her face and intertwined his fingers with hers. “You’ll feel better after you get some food inside you.”

“I shouldn’t be here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Here. On Skye. With you. I thought I could help and do something good. I don’t belong. I need to go.”

He kept a tight hold of her when she would have risen. Her magic swelled, fear edging it. “Tell me what’s going on, beauty.”

“It’s this isle. I feel … I can’t explain it. I feel out of place.”

“Take a breath.” Once she had he said, “Good. Now, here comes the waitress. Order something. We can talk after you eat.”

He didn’t release her hand until the waitress left. Aisley’s magic pulsed in confusion, like it couldn’t decide whether it was happy about where they were or not.

Something was going on though.

* * *

Corann stood on the docks hidden by a boat as he watched the Warrior and Druid in the café. What was a Druid doing with a Warrior? And more importantly, what did the drough want?

The fact she remained despite his use of magic to get her to leave showed she was powerful. But how powerful? His experience watching over the Druids on Skye told him to observe the two for a time. He would see where they were going.

Isobel’s head surfaced from underwater. “Corann, did you find them?”

“Aye, lass.”

“Shall we question them?”

He looked down at the fair-haired Druid and drummed his fingers on his leg. “No’ yet. Return to the others and tell them to await my word.”

“We’re ready for battle.”

“Let’s hope it doesna come to that. Now go, Isobel.”

He waited until she disappeared below the water before he turned back to the Warrior and Druid. By the way the Warrior watched the female, it was obvious he cared. The Druid, however, was nervous, agitated.

She kept looking around, almost as if she knew she was being watched. And that magic was being used on her.

“Good,” he murmured. “You need to know I’m here.”

When the Warrior’s gaze turned his direction, Corann stood steady. This Warrior had been to Skye before. He always came on his own.

He would roam the land for a few days and then leave. This time was different. The Warrior had a purpose. Corann might have wanted to stay hidden, but he suspected he’d be confronting the Warrior soon.

Corann grinned when he saw the Warrior trying to see him. Corann didn’t use magic. He didn’t have to. The ship in front of him offered a shield that not even a Warrior’s enhanced eyesight could see through.

The Warrior’s attention turned back to the black-haired Druid. The last time a Warrior had sided with a Druid had left its mark on the land.

Deirdre had killed many of Skye’s Druids for their magic. She’d taken even more and made them slaves to do her bidding. Corann refused to allow anything like that to happen again.

He rejoiced to find another Druid, even one that was a drough. But he’d kill her if she dared to follow in Deirdre’s footsteps.