Midnight's Temptation

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Jason Wallace stared at his reflection in the mirror of his room. His skin felt too tight over his body. After being nothing more than mere consciousness for so long, he felt small.

And he didn’t like it.

It didn’t help that he’d returned to an empty house. No servants, no Dale, and no Druids. Had Dale and all the Druids died in the last battle with those ugly white-skinned creatures?

Jason ran his hand over his clean-shaven jaw before smoothing back his short blond hair. The blue eyes stared back at him. He might look the same, but he was far from the man he had been.

He wasn’t even sure if he was a man.

The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. What exactly he was he couldn’t be sure. Not that it mattered. The potent black magic running through him could barely be contained. He could feel it moving through his veins hot as lava, scalding him the same time it empowered him.

There was a violent need to release his magic on anything and everyone. The ferocious, vicious necessity couldn’t—wouldn’t—be ignored.

He craved to unleash his magic. Because with every bit of magic he used, it helped to feed him. It seemed odd, this newfound magic.

The resurrection spell he used had worked far beyond his expectations. If he’d known what could happen to him, he’d have done it sooner.

“If only I’d been this strong when I first fought the MacLeods. They’d be dust in the wind now.”

But there was still time. Right after he found Aisley.

“Ah, cousin, do I have something in store for you,” he told his reflection.

With his magic it wouldn’t take long to locate her. It’s too bad he didn’t know where she’d been when he attacked. He had hurt her, but he was sure she wasn’t dead.

If she was, he’d simply resurrect her. She had to suffer for what she did.

He turned away from the mirror as he struggled to remember what he’d experienced when he found Aisley. It had been just a day since he attacked her then been made whole again.

Where had she been? And who was she with?

Jason grabbed his suit jacket as he walked out of his room. He put it on as he made his way down the stairs to his office. It was the same office Declan had used, the same office where Gwynn and Logan had destroyed things when they came to see Declan. The same office where he had held Ronnie and tried to convince her to become drough.

The same office where the MacLeods attacked and destroyed the house again.

He stood in the middle of the large office and looked at the wall of books behind the large mahogany desk. Magic had restored the house. Again.

The mansion had been in his family for generations. It had been remodeled and added onto with each owner, but over the course of several years there had been more death and destruction than in the entire history of the Wallaces.

Jason walked to the burgundy leather Chesterfield couch and sat. He stared at the glass-topped coffee table before he glided his hand about six inches over the top.

Instantly a landscape rose up like a 3-D model. Craggy mountains with jagged peaks surrounded by thick mist came into view.

There was no doubt he was looking at a place in Scotland, not with such rugged appeal and untamed beauty. But where?

“What am I looking at?” he asked.

The land blurred into a mass of green and brown as it changed from the mountains to a welcome sign near a port.

“Welcome to the Isle of Skye,” Jason read the sign. “So, cousin, you’re on Skye. What would bring you there?”

He leaned his forearms on his thighs and clasped his hands together. For several minutes he looked at the port trying to think why Aisley would venture to the isle.

“Show me Aisley,” he demanded.

Again the landscape blurred, but for only a second before it stopped in front of a hotel. Now that he’d found her, he could begin.

He raised his hand to dismiss the image when something made him pause. “Who is Aisley with?”

A small replica of Phelan Stewart replaced the scenery of Skye.

“Now this is too fucking easy,” Jason said and leaned back against the couch.

There was much he could do now that Aisley was with Phelan. Once he discovered why she was with him. She could be using him, but then again, Aisley was weak. When he originally asked her to be a drough, he’d expected her to be so much more than the weak woman she’d become.

Just because she lost a babe. Jason snorted. He’d made sure she’d lost much more than that. Her parents had died horribly. All while Aisley watched, unable to do anything about it.

That should have made things right. Instead, the silly bitch had tried to leave him. It had taken his resorting to inflicting physical pain upon her to get her on the right track.

Which had done the trick. Then something else happened. Jason wasn’t sure when, but Aisley had changed, softened again.

He’d planned to kill her before the last battle with the MacLeods, but then Mindy died and he needed all the Druids he could get.

His mistake was giving Aisley the opportunity to betray him. And no one betrayed Jason Wallace. Those who did paid the ultimate price.

Jason waved away the image of the Warrior. He rose and poured himself a dram of whisky as he contemplated his next move.

He could approach Aisley on Skye, kill Phelan, and then deal with Aisley as he’d dreamed of doing. It was a simple enough plan, but he was curious why a Warrior had teamed up with a drough.

After all the battles they’d been in, surely Phelan knew who Aisley was. If he somehow didn’t, he’d be able to feel her drough magic, which would tell him everything.

So what was going on?

Jason drained the amber liquid in one swallow and set down the crystal glass. There was an opportunity here, and he wasn’t going to allow it to pass by.

He didn’t need other Druids to find Aisley. However, they would come in handy should he need something. Jason closed his eyes and released a burst of magic into the air.

Any Druid within a three-hundred-mile radius would feel his magic. It was those inclined to the dark side that would seek him out.

He grinned and poured himself another whisky. Things couldn’t be going easier.

* * *

Aisley stood in the shower and let the hot water fall over her head. The disappointment she felt when they arrived at the hotel had been staggering.

She tried to play it off, but she failed. Phelan had known something was wrong. He just hadn’t tried to pry after asking her the third time.

The water hid the tears she allowed herself to cry. To have had such a glorious few days with such an incredible man made leaving Skye and facing the future even more difficult.

But it also gave her the courage to do whatever she had to in order to fight Jason.

Her finger traced the scar on her lower stomach as she thought of her precious daughter. No one knew the name she’d given her baby. She hadn’t allowed it to be carved on the headstone.

“Gillian,” she whispered.

She’d been unable to think of anything but Gillian ever since talk of the prophecy before they left the Fairy Pool. Phelan showed her the depth of his hatred for droughs. Though Aisley shouldn’t have been surprised.

Their time together, the way he smiled at her, touched her, kissed her had altered her perception of being a drough.

Phelan brought it all into crystal-clear focus.

But the prophecy worried her. Obviously it concerned the Skye Druids as well if they brought it up to Phelan. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Aisley how Ravyn and Corann glanced at her when they spoke of a Warrior sleeping with a drough.

She couldn’t exactly tell them that they needn’t worry since she couldn’t have children. Her only choice was to remain silent and learn as much as she could.

“Aisley?”

Her head jerked up when Phelan said her name outside the bathroom door. “I’m all right. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Take your time. We’ll leave in the morning.”

One more night. Maybe two, if she was lucky. But luck had never been something she could claim was hers.

If she were in a city, Aisley would find the nearest club and let the loud music take away her worries. If only for a few hours.

She shut off the water and wrung out her hair before reaching for the towel. Her movements were jerky as she dried herself.

A glance in the mirror showed red-rimmed eyes. The last thing she wanted was to explain to Phelan why she was crying. She didn’t hear him moving about in the room, so maybe he’d gone out for something. Aisley wrapped the towel around her and opened the door.

To find Phelan leaning his hands against the doorjamb.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He stared at her with his blue-gray eyes, his voice soft but firm.

She was so tired of carrying the burden of lies that she knew now was the time to share her secrets.

“I doona care about your damned past,” he said before she could utter a word. “If that’s what is bothering you, then let it go. If it’s something else, then tell me so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix this.”

“Try me.”

“Over the past few days I’ve been given the world. With you. I…” She paused to swallow past the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to lose that.”

He cupped her face and let his thumb caress her cheek. “We doona have to. The only ones who can tear whatever this is between us is … us.”

“This is the longest time you’ve spent with one woman, isn’t it?”

“Nay.”

She cocked her head to the side. “A lover then.”

“If you need to be specific, then aye. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There is,” she argued. “You’ll get tired of me. That’s why you left those other women.”

He yanked her roughly against him and lowered his voice to a seductive whisper as he said, “I left those others because they were no’ you.”

Whatever argument Aisley had died on her lips. She let the towel drop and rose up on her toes to kiss him. His kisses were like a drug. They could give her unimagined pleasure with just one touch.

“I’m no’ letting you go,” he said between kisses. “You can run from me again. But know this, beauty. I’ll hunt you down. No matter how far you go, no matter how long you run … I’ll find you.”

She shivered at his words. They could hold a double meaning. He might proclaim to want her now. How drastically would things change when he learned she was drough?

Would he give her a head start in order to hunt her down like a rabid animal? Aisley wouldn’t allow that to happen because she wouldn’t run.

“Make me forget,” she begged him.

“What do you want to forget, beauty?”

“Who I am. Make the world fall away, Phelan. Please.”

He carried her to the bed where he lowered her to her feet. Together they divested him of his clothes until they were skin to skin, mouth to mouth.

Heart to heart.

“I’ll make it all go away,” he promised as he kissed her with abandon.