A Druid of Her Own: An Immortal Highlander (Druid Series Book 4) (7 page)

Cillian moved away from his spot near the wall. “Yer stunnin’, Maggie’.”

Kennard growled and Cillian put his hands in the air.

“Well, she is.”

“Aye,” said Liam. “I’d do her in a heartbeat. If I dinnae think you’d kill me for it that is, cousin.”

Kennard growled again and this time the sound was a familiar one. She’d heard it before when she and Maria had hunted shifters that were controlled by the moon. She gasped. “Ohmygods, you’re hot, a great kisser, have a killer accent, possess the gift of magik and you can shift shapes? Tell me you’re hung. Wait, I know the answer to that.”

The last bit had just popped out without thought.

Everyone stared at her before Maria laughed, loud and long.

Kennard’s gaze whipped to her and gone was the green in his eyes, replaced by yellow. His cousins made a move to come for him but Maggie thrust herself at him, her palms going to his chest. The minute she made full contact with him he seemed to calm.

He sniffed her hair and then moved his head down, bending, sniffing her neck next. The men swooped in and pulled Kennard back from her. They tugged at him and Maria opened the front door as the twins yanked Kennard through it.

Maria closed the door behind them and then smiled at Maggie. “They’ll be just a minute.”

“What just happened?” Maggie asked.

Maria sighed. “He was preparing to claim you. The boys stopped him so he wouldn’t do it in front of everyone. They’re taking him out for air.”

Maggie soaked it all in. “So they just took my chosen one or whatever you call it out for a walk?”

“Yeah, next time they should take a leash,” added Maria with a wicked grin. “Gah, I hope they don’t poop in your yard. Dogs are disgusting.”

Maggie’s laughter returned, although this time it was warranted.

“
W
hoa
, do nae attack us,” said Cillian, his hands up and his body bent slightly, making his height lower than Kennard.

It took Kennard a bit to come out of his wolf-haze, but when he did, he took a long, deep breath of the hot summer night’s air. “What happened?”

Liam was leaning against the old trailer, picking at something under his fingernail. “You were about to claim yer mate right there in her livin’ room. We thought it best we not let you do it while you were on the verge of shifting. We got you out of there just before you actually started to change. We can take you back in to hump her leg and let her scratch yer belly if you’d prefer.”

“That is sure to help his volatile mood,” said Cillian, lowering his hands slowly.

Kennard took in what Liam said. Had he really allowed the wolf that much freedom near Maggie? The expression on his cousins’ faces said he had. He scratched at the back of his neck and began pacing around the front yard. When he reached the small one lane road that they’d rode up on, he kicked a pebble, sending it flying in the other direction.

When they’d decided to stop in Sandsville, he’d assumed it had been random, but he knew now it wasn’t. He’d been mystically drawn there, to her. To Maggie. She needed him and he her.

But losing control and shifting to wolf to lay his claim was not what he wanted to do. Yes, he wanted to know she was his, but he wanted it on his terms. Not his wolf’s. The wolf was primal and didn’t much care for human customs. It had less patience than Liam, and that was saying something since Liam had the patience of a two-year-old on most days.

“The runes should have kept my wolf at bay,” he said, his hand going to the symbol that was temporarily marked upon his flesh. It would fade within a few days, once the magik he’d borrowed from the darkness, from sources he knew better than to tamper with, began to lessen, but while it was there, he shouldn’t have been able to go as far over the edge as he had.

Cillian gave him a knowing look.

“Dark magik dinnae stop yer mate when she saved you from Athol,” said Liam with a large shrug, still picking at his nails. Kennard knew it was because the topic of mates had always been a touchy one for his cousin. While Liam almost always wore an air of macho dickness around him like a suit of protective armor, he, like most of the men in the O’Caha clan, wanted to one day find happiness. “Why should it stop her callin’ to yer wolf?”

“I hate it when he makes guid points,” snapped Kennard.

Cillian laughed. “You and me both.”

He thought about the foreign power that had surrounded Maggie. It had not felt like Athol’s, but it had felt dark. Deep down, worry seeped in—he didn’t want to believe what he was starting to suspect. No. He had to be wrong. His sweet, redheaded shop owner who wouldn’t accept charity and who had saved his life could not be of the dark mages.

That just couldn’t be.

He was tired, his wolf was caged and unhappy, and much had gone on in a short period of time. Once he was able to sit back and see the bigger picture, he’d have a clearer head and outlook. He wouldn’t let doubt creep in.

At least he hoped he wouldn’t.

Kennard took a moment to really look at where Maggie lived. The trailer was old and he wondered if a strong wind would take it down. Hell, mayhap even a light one. And when he’d found her tonight she’d been frozen through and through even though the air outside was oppressive. What had she told him?

“Her water tank is broken,” he said as if his cousins cared. The modern conveniences he enjoyed so much didn’t seem to apply here at Maggie’s home.

Cillian glanced around. “Kennard, it does nae look as if much works here.”

“No,” said Liam softly, his normally joking tone gone. “And did you notice, she’s no vehicle. The car in the drive there belongs to the friend. It is coated in her scent. And I do nae see or smell any others, aside from our bikes.”

Kennard had noticed. Tracking her down had been easier than he would have liked. When he’d gone to the downtown area, near the bars and where her shop was located, he asked a man who was sitting outside on the shop’s patio furniture—well after it had closed. The same man who had seemed immune to the compulsion spell his cousins had cast on the patrons the day prior. The man had glared at Kennard but he’d handed over Maggie’s address without any qualms. That was not safe. And Kennard couldn’t stop thinking that the man had seemed to be on the verge of a menacing grin after he’d divulged Maggie’s address—as if Kennard had just played the hand he’d been dealt.

Kennard would look for the man later and warn him against ever doing so again. Then again, she would not remain here. She would leave this town with him. This was no place for her.

They were far enough from town that walking would have been out of the question. As he realized that was probably exactly what Maggie did daily, he felt his wolf’s hackles rising. His mate needed him in more ways than one. She was barely getting by and she had a dark mage nipping at her heels.

Kennard had money. He’d been alive long enough and learned to invest wisely, making sure he’d be comfortable. More than comfortable even. He wasn’t a man who wanted for much for himself, but seeing his woman’s teeth chattering because she’d taken a shower in water as cold as something that came from an outside hose did not sit well with him. He wanted to shower her in gifts, buy her a grand home of her choosing and assure she wanted for nothing again.

Nothing other than him, that was.

“I should go in and talk with her, aye?” he asked, already knowing the answer. He and Maggie had much to discuss. For starters, he needed to try to find out what Athol wanted her for. She had to know even if she didn’t realize she did. The truth was there, they just needed to uncover it.

The same sinking feeling he’d been trying to escape, the one that told him she had ties to the dark mages, returned this time tenfold. He couldn’t walk back into her home like this—on the verge of shifting when shifting should have been an impossibility.

He looked to Cillian, knowing he could trust his cousin with his chosen one. “I need to clear my head.”

Cillian stood tall. “I’ll watch over her. Go. Liam will accompany you to assure you do nae get into any mischief.”

“But mischief is so much fun,” countered Liam with a grin that said he was only joking. He strolled over to his motorcycle and threw a leg over it, taking a seat. “We can ride and the fresh air will help.”

Kennard wasn’t so sure, but he knew he wasn’t in control enough to go back in and see Maggie. He’d end up pinning her to the floor in front of everyone and taking what he wanted. While he was alpha, he wasn’t a dirtbag. He’d never take a woman’s choices away.

Ever.

M
aggie sat on the sofa
, her head between her knees as if she were trying to stop a bloody nose, not trying to absorb just how much had been dumped on her in one day and one very long night.

“Thinking of how the nest of vampires we found on the other side of town a few months back was the most interesting thing to happen to us in a long time?” asked Maria, always good at reading Maggie’s emotions.

With a snort, Maggie inclined her head. “Sad but true. Or the house out on Route six.”

“Oh,” Maria bounced a bit in place, “the one with the ghosts. Yeah, that was neat too. Sad state of things if we’re sitting here waxing nostalgic about vampires and ghosts.”

“None of them walked in and kissed me,” confessed Maggie, making Maria laugh. “How long until sunrise?” she asked, lifting her head and taking the newly warmed mug of tea from her friend.

Maria took a seat next to her. “A few hours yet.”

“Crazy night, huh?”

Maria touched the mug, silently encouraging her to drink. She did and made a face as she realized just how much sugar Maria had put in the tea. Coughing, she patted her chest with her free hand.

Laughing, Maria touch the mug again. The way she continued to encourage it made her come off as pusher-like. “Drink more. You need it right now.”

Curling her lip, Maggie shook her head. It was like drinking maple syrup. “Did you use the entire sugar bowl?”

“Nope,” replied Maria with a flash of teeth. “Just a third.”

Maggie laughed. “Tasted like it.”

“So this day has been eventful, huh?” Maria twisted, putting her shoulder against Maggie and throwing her feet off the other end of the old sofa. She folded her hands on her lap and then glanced back up at Maggie. “You really had his dick in your hand?”

Pink rushed up and over Maggie’s upper chest, neck and cheeks. “Yes.”

“How is it?”

Maggie stifled a laugh. “Maria!”

With a shrug, her friend snorted. “What? Legit question. Is it romance-hero worthy? And you told me all about when you and that one guy got busy. Come to think of it, that is the only guy you’ve ever mentioned. I’m thinking your bed-partner history is limited. At least tell me Kennard is a handful.”

“And then some,” confessed Maggie softly, feeling naughty for sharing about Kennard. It was too hard to resist adding more. “If he screws as good as he kisses, I may not survive him.”

“You’ll do just fine,” said Maria, as if sensing Maggie’s concern about not being good enough in bed for Kennard. Maria was right, Maggie’s list of bed partners was limited to one and he hadn’t been anything special. She’d given her virginity to him, and in the end the entire thing had been a dare on the part of his friends. A way for them to tease and razz him about banging Mad Maggie.

The hurt was as fresh today as when she’d suffered through it the summer after her senior year of high school. She’d kept busy since then, saving all the money she could to open her own coffee shop. She’d done it. She was self-employed and loved it.

Maria’s laughter faded and she sat up, her hand going to Maggie’s thigh. “This demon in your dream means business, Maggie. My aunts did read your cards and consulted their board. Bad shit is trying to move in on you, and before you jump to the same conclusion I did, the bad shit is not Kennard. Apparently, he’s what you need.”

Her friend didn’t sound thrilled by that. Maggie fell silent and forced the sickly sweet hot liquid down her throat. After a few minutes she began to feel better and the shaking subsided. Warmth spread over her and she stopped thinking her trailer had become a frozen tundra and realized just how humid it was out.

“What now?” she asked.

Maria took Maggie’s hand in hers. “We kick the bad guy’s butt, like we always do, only this time we have hunky males as our accessory pieces.”

Unable to help herself, Maggie burst into another fit of the giggles. Trust Maria to take their situation and boil it down to something as simple as that. She leaned, putting her head against Maria’s as she continued to hold her friend’s hand. Everything was changing. Maggie just hoped it was for the better.

“They’ve been out there a long time,” she said uneasily.

Maria nodded. “One of the twins is standing outside the front door, trying his best to give us privacy, but his hearing is probably better than mine. Kennard and the annoying twin left on their motorcycles.”

Maggie sat up quickly. He’d left her?

Maria touched her back gently. “Hon, he needed to clear his head and collect himself. He didn’t want to hurt you.”

“He’d never hurt me,” she said, sure she was right.

“He believes that forcing you into a claimed mating would hurt you,” Maria replied.

Maggie wasn’t totally up on her supernatural mating knowledge, but she did understand that when a supernatural took a mate, they did so for life and nearly all of them were immortal. He probably needed time to think about how he’d be stuck with her forever.

She was about to excuse herself to go get dressed in something more than old clothes she used as pajamas when she felt it—the same buzzing energy that always accompanied the nightmares with Athol in them.

Maria didn’t seem to notice anything at first and Maggie wondered if it was her mind playing tricks on her. If perhaps stress had finally broken her. She stood slowly, and the moment she was to her feet, the door burst open. Cillian was there and he had a huge sword in his hand.

Maria thrust Maggie behind her and snarled.

Cillian ignored the warning snarls and stared past both women. “I sense dark mage magik. It smells like Athol’s.”

Maggie tensed. “I sense him too.”

Maria was quiet a moment before she nodded. “Me three.”

There was a huge crashing sound and the entire trailer rocked back and forth before jerking to one side. The sofa and the end table flew at Maggie and Maria, hitting them both and knocking them to the floor, which only moments before had been the wall.

The world seemed to spin as pressure built in her ears, as if she were changing altitudes on a plane ride. The trailer rocked again and flipped once more. They all fell onto what had once been the ceiling as the sounds of metal folding in echoed around them.

Maria was pinned under the sofa and Maggie grabbed for her, yanking to no avail. Cillian was suddenly there. He thrust his sword at Maggie and she took it as he lifted the sofa and tossed it aside as if it were as heavy as a beach ball. He bent and lifted Maria to her feet and then touched her shoulders.

“How badly are you hurt?” he asked.

“I’m pissed. Not hurt,” she returned. “Was this that Athol guy’s doing?”

He nodded.

The trailer shook again and Cillian lunged for the front door as it began to crinkle in. He kicked it outwards before putting his hand out to Maria. She took it and Cillian yanked her free of the trailer. He turned to reach for Maggie but the trailer spun in a different direction. The strangest urge to glance out the window to see if a witch on a broomstick was flying by came over Maggie and she almost laughed.

She really needed to learn to control when she did that.

Maggie took a tea mug to the side of the head and cursed under her breath as she attempted to get her bearings when the trailer stopped spinning. Glancing around, she realized Cillian wasn’t with her anymore. Was he trapped under something?

“Cillian?” she called, scrambling to her hands and knees. The pain in the side of her head grew but was soon beat out by that in her knees and palms of her hands as she crawled over broken glass. Buzzing, hot energy that smelled a good deal like rotting corpses eased up and around her, coating her in it to the point she coughed, gagging on it.

Her lungs burned with the acidic smell and she crawled faster to the spot where she’d last seen Cillian. In the back of her mind she knew her home was no more and that everything she had was lost, but none of it mattered. They were material possessions. Nothing more.

Lives mattered.

Stuff didn’t.

It took her a second to realize someone was calling her name. It sounded far away and muffled at first. The ringing in her ears eased and she recognized Maria’s voice.

“Maggie!”

“Here!” Maggie shouted in response, climbing up and over what had once been her living room light fixture. She went over the toppled sofa and neared the door. Light appeared there and she smiled. It faded fast as she realized the light wasn’t Maria and Cillian.

Athol reached through the opening that had once been her front door, snatched hold of her, and then yanked with a force she couldn’t resist. One second Maggie was on her hands and knees and the next she was tumbling through nothingness.

She knew two things—if she dared allow herself to keep going with Athol, she’d never return, and two, Kennard would come for her.

“Kennard!” she managed, as something slammed into her, knocking the wind from her.