Awaken the Highland Warrior (16 page)

BOOK: Awaken the Highland Warrior
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Chapter 18

Bree stood, feet rooted to the floor, until his door closed. He couldn’t be the man from the courtyard. That had been seconds ago. Had he followed them? He didn’t look like a demon, but neither did Russell. Bree ran to Faelan’s door and burst inside without knocking. There was a bump and a muttered curse.

She shut the door, speechless, the strange neighbor forgotten. Faelan wore jeans and nothing else. His chest was bare, except for his talisman and tattoos, damp hair held back with the leather strap she’d seen in his sporran, exposing a jaw line that made her knees tremble. Behind his ear, she could see the small tattoo she’d glimpsed in the Jacuzzi. A fresh white bandage added a vulnerable touch, making the combination deadly.

“I heard voices,” he said, holding his nose.

“I ran into one of the other guests. Did the door hit your nose?”

He nodded.

“Sorry. It’s not bleeding.”

He rubbed his finger under it and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I ran into the guy across the hall. I’d just seen someone outside my window, and it startled me.”

Faelan picked up his dagger from the bed. “Wait here,” he said, and eased into the hall, his steps as soft as a panther’s. He paused outside the stranger’s door, sniffing the air. Moving to the next door, he ran his hands over it and lingered there, a faraway look on his face. Frowning, he entered Bree’s room, emerging minutes later. “I didn’t see anyone,” he said, after shutting his door. “Or smell anything, though I’m not sure I could after hitting my nose.” He touched it gingerly.

“Sorry. I’m just jumpy. It’s not every day you find out you almost married a demon.”

Faelan put his dagger on the table. “Do you want to stay awhile?” He cleared his throat and studied his toes. “Sleep here, if you want.”

Staying with him was a bad idea, but hanging out with a warrior who had a talisman capable of blasting a demon into nonexistence was preferable to going back to her room with only her imagination for company. She nodded. “I was coming to see you anyway. I figured we could talk.”

“Talk?”

“It might help to talk about your sister. Talking helps. Men don’t usually know that. They have to be prodded into these cleansing conversations.”

“Then prod away. We have much to discuss anyway. Please, sit down.”

His room was similar to hers, but painted a soft blue with a queen-sized four-poster bed, mahogany tallboy, chest of drawers, and an old roll-top desk. Antique pictures covered the walls, but no little dark-haired girls to remind him of the sister he’d lost. The lamp beside the bed cast a warm soothing glow.

Then, she did a stupid thing. She moved past the only chair in the room, a wingback, and sat on the end of the bed with her legs folded under her, in a skirt that didn’t reach her knees when she was standing.

Faelan glanced at the chair before joining her, settling at the top of the bed. He crossed his ankles and leaned against black and cream toile pillows, his bare feet almost touching hers. Bree swallowed and gave him a quick once-over, thighs stretching the fabric of his jeans, the faint trail of hair low on his stomach, hard abs, and finally the tattoos on his chest, dancing under the lamp’s glow. This was a mistake, but it was too late to leave.

“I see Mrs. Edwards gave you a bandage.” Other than opening his old wound, he appeared unscathed.

“Told her I’d bumped into a tree. Not quite a lie,” he said, dragging his gaze from Bree’s legs.

Bree tugged at her skirt, wishing she’d sat in the chair.

“I won’t take advantage of you,” he said, watching her squirm. “Not that I blame you. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me before.” If he apologized again, she’d hit him over the head.

“Maybe I’m trying to convince myself.” He folded his arms against his chest, biceps bulging. “I’ll keep my hands right here,” he said, tucking them under his armpits, eyes twinkling. “We could ask Mrs. Edwards for a brush.”

“A brush?” Had she forgotten to comb her hair? She ran her hands over her head, feeling her damp ponytail.

“If I get out of line, you can hit me with it like you hit Grog.”

“Oh, a broom.” He didn’t use many Scottish words, but when he did, it was utterly charming.

“That’s a sight I’ll never forget, no matter how hard I try. I don’t know who was more surprised, Grog or me.” He shook his head. “Having a woman try to rescue me is an experience I don’t relish. And not one I’d care to repeat. You live up to your name, I’ll say that. You are a disturbance.”

“I’m disturbing?”

“You disturb me.” He grinned, and she felt lava pulse through her veins.

They were treading dangerous waters. “These are modern times. You need to be man enough to let a woman do some rescuing too,” she said, which resulted in a dubious scowl. “Do you think Druan knows we were there? Could he smell us?”

“I doubt it. They stink like the devil, but their sense of smell isn’t strong. Couldn’t live with themselves if it were.” His hands dropped to his talisman. “He must be desperate by now. We’ve got to find my clan. Druan’s disease—” Faelan stopped.

“Disease? What disease?”

Faelan blew out a breath and closed his eyes.

“You’re
still
hiding things.” She started to get up, but he caught her arm. He moved closer and sat with his legs crossed so that their knees almost touched.

“I didn’t see any reason to worry you further. It’s not your fight.”

“Not my fight? I almost married Druan, and you wouldn’t be sitting here if I hadn’t opened the time vault. That makes it my fight. Where do you get this idea you’re Superman?”

“Who’s Superman?”

“He thought he was a one-man show, too.”

“Druan created a disease. I found out the night before I went to suspend him.”

“What kind of disease? Like the flu? The plague?”

“The plague was Druan’s father’s creation. Druan’s disease will make the plague look like a runny nose. It’ll destroy all human life.”

“Cripes. That’s why you were mumbling about war and disease.” It sounded like Druan had created a deadly virus.

“Those halflings I tracked said Druan was ready to release the disease. I couldn’t suspend Druan until I knew what the disease was, how he planned to use it, and there wasn’t time to wait for help, whether I wanted it or not. My only choice was to capture Druan, put him in shackles, and force him to tell me where it was before I suspended him.” Faelan’s jaw tightened. “If I hadn’t been so preoccupied, I might have realized Grog was a demon.”

“Do you think the halflings lied? I mean, humans are still here.”

“No. When I mentioned it, Druan was scared. I don’t think he wanted the other demons to know. Maybe Tristol destroyed it. He looked pissed enough.”

“Who’s Tristol?”

“Another ancient demon. Probably the most powerful. He’s supposed to be the closest to the Dark One.”

“This demon was with Druan?”

“He was, and two more ancient demons. Malek and Voltar.”

“Are they as powerful as Druan?”

“Aye.”

“That’s why you’re worried. I wondered why you’d be bothered over a few demons after what you did to those things in the chapel.”

“Those were halflings. Most of the demons with Druan were full. But the ancient demons, well, you know that FBI’s Most Wanted List you told me about? If our clan had a list, they’d be on it. They’re powerful, fast, and clever. It would be nigh impossible for anyone to get close enough to hurt Druan, even a warrior, unless he was assigned.”

Bree shuddered. She’d held hands with one, touched its face… slept with it.

“What were these ancient demons doing with Druan?”

“I didn’t have time to find out. They must have been helping him with the war.”

“War?”

“That’s why I was sent to America, to stop a war.”

“In 1860? You don’t… you can’t mean the Civil War.”

“That’s the name you’ve given it.”

“You were supposed to stop the Civil War?
My
Civil War?” The war she’d spent her life studying? Weekends she’d spent metal detecting with her dad. The Civil War collection they’d built. “You mean Russell was responsible for it?”

“He was.”

Talk about coincidences. “This is… beyond bizarre. How could one man stop a war?”

“The warriors who came with me were helping. I had them hunting Druan’s demons and halflings, but destroying him was my responsibility. I’d hoped getting rid of him would collapse his efforts. I didn’t expect the other ancient demons to be helping him.”

“Why a Scottish warrior? Didn’t America have warriors?”

“America was still a bairn, as far as countries go. All the warriors in this country came from Scotland.”

“If Druan is so powerful, why didn’t you keep some of the warriors with you? Was it because you thought your brothers were coming?”

“I didn’t want anyone else with me. It was too dangerous. Only my talisman can destroy Druan or his evil. If another warrior accidentally aimed his talisman at Druan, the warrior would be dead.”

“So these warriors and your brothers risked everything to help you fight Druan?”

“Aye. They trusted me with their lives, and I let them down. I sent the warriors away, which means that when my brothers arrived, they would have faced Druan, and maybe the other demons of old, alone.”

Druan was alive, so that meant his brothers hadn’t succeeded, probably hadn’t survived.

Faelan focused on a spot over her head, a muscle working in his jaw. “I failed at all of it. Druan, his disease, the war.”

Bree touched his hand. “It’s Druan’s fault, not yours. The war started a year after you were suspended. You couldn’t have stopped it even if you had destroyed Druan. The trouble had been brewing for too long. Those other three demons were probably helping him for months, even years. You’re a good man, Faelan. Don’t carry Druan’s blame.”

“I betrayed the clan, the entire human race, when I sent the other warriors away.”

“If they’d stayed, or your brothers had arrived, could you have killed all of the demons?”

“I don’t know.” He looked doubtful.

“You may have saved the warriors’ lives. Druan might have been gone when they arrived. They could’ve lived long, full lives.”

“Perhaps.” He turned his hand over and captured hers, linking their fingers.

“Did anyone else know about the disease?”

“I sent word to the clan and the other warriors in America before I went to meet Druan. I doubt my brothers knew. They were likely already on the way.”

His brothers must have been desperate when they couldn’t find him. “Did they know where to look for you? Where had you planned to meet?”

“They would have brought a Seeker. Seekers can locate a warrior’s talisman. It’s the only way to find a warrior when he’s hunting or lost… or dead. I don’t know if they could find a talisman inside a time vault. They couldn’t have opened it, anyway.”

“What happens when a warrior dies?”

“His talisman is reassigned to another warrior.”

“But your talisman was locked in the vault with you. Cripes! Do the demons know a warrior’s talisman can destroy them?”

“No. None live to warn the others. If they found out, our greatest weapon would be compromised, one of the reasons secrecy is so important.”

“Can I see yours?” she asked. Her body tingled, as if she’d asked to see something far more private.

Faelan held the talisman out so she could take a closer look. She ran her fingers across the metal, brushing his. “How does it work?”

“It’s hard to explain. I guess you could say it’s like holy light.” He gripped her chin softly, raising her eyes to his. “Don’t ever look at it again. You can yell or hit me if you think I’m belittling you, but if you’re around and I aim this thing, you’d better close your eyes.”

“Yes, warrior.”

“I think the time vault weakened it. Otherwise, you’d be dead. We’re lucky it destroyed those halflings.”

“It didn’t look damaged to me. Does it do anything beside destroy demons?”

“It transports the shackles and time vaults. We have shackles that paralyze the demons so we can get them inside the time vaults.”

“What do you do with the time vaults? Bury them?”

“They’re sent to a holding place, not on earth.”

“Another dimension?”

“Aye.”

“Good heavens. Can you take the talisman off?”

“No. We don’t take off our talismans. Ever.”

Not even when they bathed or made love? “You were almost finished with your duty. You could’ve married soon. Did you have anyone special? Were you ever in love?”

He studied an old scar on his hand for too long before he shook his head. There had been a woman. Bree was sure of it. The thought gnawed at her, but there was no point in asking him. Whoever she was, the woman would be dead now.

“You must have dated?” He’d put every other lover she’d had to shame. He had acquired the skill somewhere.

“Dated?”

“Courted women.”

“A warrior needs his head in the battle, not worrying over a lass or a mate,” he said, not answering her question. “Many remain virgins until they take a mate. There are always demons trying to find weaknesses to use against us. The female demons take on exceptional forms.”

“I saw one in the castle. She was incredibly beautiful, then she turned into this thing with hooves.”

“Be glad she didn’t see you. They can be very nasty.”

“So a female demon uses her beauty to distract you, then ka-bam. It must be tough going into training while your hormones are raging.”

“It teaches us to focus. Makes us stronger. What about you and all these men?”

He still acted like she had a male harem. “I’ve dated some… well, a lot.”

There was a slight narrowing of his eyes. “Define a lot.”

She cleared her throat, not wanting to explain her disastrous love life to a man from the nineteenth century. “Ten boyfriends… more or less. Most of them didn’t make it past the first good-night kiss.”

“Most?” He stared at her knees. “How many did you…” his jaw worked, as if he was clenching his teeth.

“Four.” She blushed and looked away. Including him… and Druan. The unspoken words lay between them like a ticking bomb.

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