Midnight's Temptation

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Aisley wanted off the Isle of Skye. It didn’t matter what argument she tried to give Phelan, he kept telling her he would protect her.

If she knew what it was that put her on edge, she would be able to tell him. As it was, since she couldn’t name it, he was confident he could take care of whatever it was.

“Stubborn.”

“What?” Phelan asked as he turned to look at her over his shoulder as he drove the Ducati along the road.

She didn’t bother to answer him. Instead, she studied the ruins of Armadale Castle before it went out of sight.

It wasn’t long before they reached Broadford, which Phelan told her was Skye’s second largest settlement. Despite her uneasy feeling, the views were dramatic and stunning. This was the home of her ancestors, the place where her magic came from.

She wished she had visited sooner. Even now she could feel her magic swelling, as if it knew where she was.

“Broadford lies in the shadow of the Red Cuillin mountains. The village origins date back to the cattle market that was held here in the 1700s. After the Napoleonic war, many veterans came here after 1815,” Phelan said when they slowed to go through the town.

She shook her head. “You’re like an encyclopedia. Is there anything you don’t know?”

“The bay is Broadford Bay. Oh, and there’s a serpentarium.”

“A what?” she asked. “You don’t mean snakes, do you?”

“Oh, aye, beauty. It’s home to snakes, lizards, and frogs. Want to see it?”

She shuddered. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

His laughter brought a smile to her face. Life with Phelan was certainly never boring.

They stayed on the A87 that hugged the magnificent coastline offering staggering views of the water and Skye’s many peninsulas as they twisted and turned with the road north.

When they reached Portree, he didn’t stop as she expected. Instead, he drove them to the Cuillin Hills Hotel and parked.

“We’ll get a start in the morning,” he said as he shut off the bike and waited for her to get off.

Aisley handed her helmet to Phelan as she took in the view of the harbor from the hotel high up a hillside. When she glanced at the hotel, she found the whitewashed brick to be a beautiful collection of gables. Then she caught sight of the mountain range. What had Phelan called them? The Cuillins.

“They’re the wildest and most jagged mountain range in all of the UK,” he said as he stood beside her.

“They’re beyond spectacular.”

“Have you mountain climbed before?”

She raised a brow as she looked at him. “Not exactly. Why?”

“That’s where we’re headed tomorrow.”

Aisley blinked. “You must be joking.”

“Afraid no’, beauty. Now, let me tell you about the hotel,” he said as he helped her off the bike and guided her toward the entrance. “Cuillin Hills Hotel was originally a shooting lodge called the Armadale Lodge in the 1880s. They’ve continually added onto the structure through the decades.”

Aisley could only marvel at his knowledge as they walked into the hotel. He held both of their bags, and with a smile at the older woman behind the counter, he sauntered over to her.

He was amazing to watch. Women practically fell over themselves to get his attention. Aisley stood to the side and observed as the older woman’s faded blue eyes crinkled in the corners at something Phelan said.

She giggled, just like a schoolgirl, her lashes fluttering. Phelan leaned an arm on the counter and flashed a bright smile Aisley knew the older woman wouldn’t be immune to. A moment later and he was handing her a stack of pound notes.

Aisley shook her head as he walked over to her. He gave her a smile. “What?” he asked innocently.

“Do you charm everyone?”

“What can I say? I like women.”

“And they like you.”

He winked. “I know.”

Aisley laughed while she followed him up the staircase to their room. The laughter died when she took sight of where they would be sleeping.

“You doona like it?”

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the window and the breathtaking views of the Cuillin mountain range. “It’s spectacular.”

Firmly clamping her mouth shut, she turned to find a massive four-poster bed with a dark tartan comforter. The bed faced the windows, and she could only imagine what kind of view she’d wake up to.

“Rain is coming,” Phelan said.

Aisley glanced out the window to see dark clouds gathering over the mountains. “I’ve often heard that Skye’s weather changes daily.”

“The weather here changes by the hour, beauty. We’ll need to be prepared for anything.”

“Don’t worry about me. I don’t get sick.”

He moved with lightning speed to stand before her and grab her arms. “You’ll have everything you need before we get on those slopes. You’re mortal, beauty. You doona know what that means.”

“You forget, I know exactly what it means. I watched my daughter take her last breath in my arms.”

His lips pressed into a firm line. “I willna argue with you about this.”

“Fine. I just don’t understand why you think we need to go to the mountains. Can’t we just ask around any one of the villages we’ve been through?”

“It willna be that easy. We can ask, but we’ll no’ discover anything. What we want will be in those mountains.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “All right. Spill, Warrior. What do you know?”

He dropped his arms and raked a hand through his hair. His gaze moved behind her to the window and mountains beyond. “That range of mountains isna treacherous for nothing. I’ve seen Celtic markings there before.”

“Celtic markings doesn’t mean Druids.”

“It does if you know what to look for. We’ll find whatever clues we need in those hills.”

“I’m glad you’re confident.”

He pulled off his shirt and tossed it in a nearby chair as he crossed to the bathroom. “Somewhere on this isle is a Druid who has the answers we seek. We just need to find that Druid.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” she asked as he shut the door.

“Aye,” he yelled through the door.

She rolled her eyes and fell back on the bed when she heard the shower turn on. A moment later the sound of something hitting the window made her raise her head.

“Rain.”

Just a few minutes ago the sun had been out.

She grinned when she recalled hearing a tourist complaining about the lack of darkness during the summer months. They didn’t know that during the winter there were only a few hours of sunlight.

Aisley leaned up to grab her iPod from her purse. She missed hearing the music. Once her earbuds were in, she hit play, closed her eyes, and let the music soothe her. The agitation she’d felt while having dinner diminished.

She wasn’t sure what it was about Skye that set her on edge, but it wasn’t a place she felt comfortable in. Phelan was right though. There was magic everywhere.

It came through the land and filled the air. It was in every flower petal, every blade of grass. It was in the rain, in the sea, and in the clouds.

The only thing that came close to feeling like this was the standing stones throughout Scotland. Aisley, like any Druid, was drawn to the stones.

It had been her ancestors who erected the many standing stones across the land. The power of those Druids had been so great, the magic could still be felt, centuries later.

Skye was similar, except the magic felt … more solid. As if it wasn’t an echo of magic, but the magic itself.

* * *

Corann stood on a peak of the Cuillin mountains and stared at the hotel where the Warrior and Druid had gone. A curtain of rain fell over Portree, cloaking it in gray.

“They’re getting closer,” Ravyn said.

He glanced down at Ravyn and gripped his walking stick tighter. “Aye. What has the wind told you?”

She shrugged and played with the ends of her waist-length black hair. Her bright blue eyes were trained on the hotel. “The wind tells me to help them.”

“Hmm.” Corann had never known Ravyn to misunderstand the wind. She was a Windtalker. Unlike the Druids on the mainland, those on Skye retained the full strength of their magic, but only by being selective and careful.

“You don’t want to help them?” Ravyn asked.

“I worry about the drough.”

Ravyn dropped her hands and turned her gaze to him. “The wind only tells me that she’s in danger.”

“From the Warrior?”

“That I don’t know. Maybe Isobel will know more.”

Corann grunted. Isobel was his Waterdancer, and she had learned nothing more than Ravyn.

“That means she hasn’t,” Ravyn said with a smile.

“Doona get cheeky with me, lass.”

Ravyn nudged him with her fist. “You like me being cheeky, old man.”

Corann’s smile faded as he thought of the Warrior and Druid again. “Have everyone ready, Ravyn. Whether these two are just visiting or no’, I’ll no’ have us unprepared.”

“I’ll see it done.”

“Good.”

She turned to leave, then paused and put her hand on his shoulder. Corann turned his head and met her gaze. Ravyn had an old soul. As a natural born leader, she had no problem taking her place among the Druids of Skye.

It was her future he fought for. It was hundreds of generations to come that he would die for.

“There’s been no sign of Jason Wallace,” she said. “Nothing our magic has been able to pick up anywhere in England or Scotland.”

“Perhaps he left the country.”

“That’s a possibility, but I don’t think so.”

Corann sighed wearily. “I’ve a feeling we’ll know the answer soon enough.”

“There are Warriors fighting evil. The wind has told me.”

“Aye. Those at MacLeod Castle. Warriors and mies.”

“They killed Deirdre.”

He gave a nod. “And Declan. This I know, Ravyn. What’s your point?”

“Maybe that’s why this Warrior is here?”

“With a drough?” Corann pointed out.

Ravyn let her hand slide from his shoulder. “No one knows of us. We’ve kept hidden. If there is an attack here, they’ll not be prepared for our assault.”

“And if that happens, lass, there’ll be no more hiding for us. Everyone will know our location. There is more evil out there than Jason Wallace.”

She folded her arms over her chest and planted her feet. “You’ve said that since I was a little girl, except you used Deirdre’s name. Give over, old man. What evil are you talking about?”

“Pray, Ravyn, that you never find out.”

“Corann—”

“Enough,” he said with finality. “Go to the others. I’ll keep watch.”

Only when Ravyn had walked away did he slump against his walking stick. He was running out of time. If things didn’t work out, he’d have to tell his Druids everything he knew.

They had to be prepared.