Midnight's Captive (Dark Warriors) (3 page)

He wanted to, and there were times he’d almost looked into her past. But a past was a past. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him. The days her green eyes took a faraway look were the hardest for him to keep his distance.

Charon liked her, but he knew better than to get too close. He’d made that mistake too many times before and watched friends grow old and die. Now, he did everything he could to keep his distance. From everyone.

She was an enticement he’d sensed the first time he saw her. Still, he’d been unable to turn away from her. The next thing he knew, he was offering her a job. She was dependable, reliable, and so damned pretty there were days it hurt just to look at her.

He paused as he reached the clearing behind his building. His gaze was drawn upward to the second story, where he heard the unmistakable rhythms and lyrics of Whitesnake.

Without meaning to, his gaze sought out Laura. She wore a dress of sapphire that hugged her form, outlining every wonderful feminine curve. Her wavy dark hair was pulled away from her face with a Celtic silver clip at the back of her head while the rest of her long locks fell down her back.

With the chorus starting, she closed her eyes and did a little spin. There was a bright smile pulling at her delectable lips when she opened her eyes.

He had often found himself wanting to trace her mouth with his finger. With eyesight as sharp as a falcon’s, Charon let himself look at his leisure.

Laura had the look of nobility about her, as if it were bred into her DNA. She walked with confidence women rarely had. Every move she made, every action she did was done with unconscious elegance.

Her smile was infectious, her laugh irresistible. She had a stubborn streak he recognized by the way her nose scrunched a heartbeat before she said anything, as if she was debating it.

But her eyes, her striking pale green eyes, were the windows to her soul. One minute she let him see every emotion, and then the other it as if a wall came down, shutting him out.

She was stunning, but that wasn’t why he hired her. Her beauty had almost made him turn her way. But then he had seen something in her eyes. Hope.

And sorrow.

He’d wanted to know what gave her such sadness, and how she kept a hold of the hope. Instead, he’d learned how intelligent she was. Laura was far too clever to be in such a job. Yet, it was her love of the town that had ultimately gotten her the offer.

Charon hadn’t regretted it either. Laura worked hard, sometimes too hard. He would have to send her home some days. But no one had ever kept his books, and the accounting, in such impeccable order. Not to mention vendors, other employees, and customers alike melted at the sight of her smile.

He found himself grinning as she danced across the room to gather more papers only to dance back to the filing cabinet, the swing of her hips drawing his gaze and making his balls tighten in response.

His hands curled into fists as he imagined walking up behind her and grabbing a hold of her hips as he rocked his aching cock against her.

“Are you only ever going to just watch her? Or are you going to take her as you want to do?”

Charon stiffened at the sound of the voice. He’d been so caught up in thinking of Laura, he hadn’t heard Phelan walk up. He hated when Phelan sneaked up on him.

In his present mood, Phelan deserved the tongue lashing Charon wanted to give. Instead, he kept his gaze on Laura. Even if his mind released his brief fantasy.

“She’s my secretary.”

“They’re now called executive assistants,” Phelan said as he came to stand beside him. “And here I thought you were the one more in touch with the times than any Warrior. I’m going to have to rethink things.”

Charon stuffed his hands in his pockets and fingered the X90 he couldn’t seem to toss away. He cut Phelan a look for his sarcasm. “She’s more than that. She does the work of three employees.”

“And why have you no’ taken her to your bed? It’s obvious by the way you watch her that you want her.”

“I doona mix business with pleasure,” Charon said and looked away from Laura.

There was a pregnant pause before Phelan said, “You have no’ changed your shirt.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Charon said sarcastically.

When he started to walk away, Phelan’s hand clamped on his shoulder, stopping him.

“Are you no’ all right?” Phelan asked as he peered into his face. “Does it still hurt?”

“You mean do I still feel the
drough
blood inside me?”
Aye
. “Nay.”

Phelan visibly relaxed as he dropped his arm to his side. “You had me worried for a minute. Why have you no’ changed?”

“I had some thinking to do.”

“Aye. That’s why I’m here. This battle with Jason, it was…”

“Different?” Charon supplied when Phelan paused.

Phelan nodded. “He was prepared for us. Better prepared than Deirdre or Declan ever was.”

“I know.” Charon ran a hand through his hair. “Deirdre knew us the best. She knew each of us individually because she watched us in that hellhole of a mountain. Some better than others.”

Phelan snorted. “You mean me, because she kept me chained from the time I was a lad? Or because she drank my blood every day after I became a Warrior?”

“Both.”

Charon knew Phelan hated to speak of his time in Cairn Toul Mountain, and rarely did. But there had to be a reason for Jason Wallace to know so much about them.

“Aye,” Phelan said and walked a short distance away before turning back to Charon. “It was as if Jason knew exactly how we would attack. Could Ronnie have told them?”

Ronnie, also known as Dr. Veronica Reid, had fallen in love with Arran, another Warrior. As a Druid, Ronnie’s magic allowed her to find magical items in the ground. Which made her a very popular archeologist.

“Nay. I doona believe it was Ronnie. She might know Arran, but she had no idea of how we would attack. Besides, I drove her from Edinburgh to her dig site after that first attack. She wouldna betray Arran in any way. She loves him.”

“Then how?” Phelan asked and threw up his arms in frustration.

“Another Seer, perhaps?”

It was a shot in the dark, especially since the Seer they had at MacLeod Castle, Saffron, was the first in ages.

Phelan shook his head. “Nay. He
knew
us. Knew things only someone who had spent time with us would know.”

“There’s no way. We were with the other Warriors and Druids after Declan was killed. We went through every book in that mansion and destroyed it. There is no possible way for him to know anything.”

“Yet he does. He no’ only knows us, but he knows black magic. In order for him to become
drough,
there has to be a ceremony. Someone had to know the ceremony. Which means we missed something.”

The music coming from his office changed to a relaxed, sensuous beat as Whitesnake began belting out “Slow an’ Easy.”

“I know Gwynn already did a background check on Jason through the computer.” Charon rubbed his chin. “But I think I’m going to do my own digging into Jason Wallace’s past. Maybe we’ll find something.”

For the first time that evening there was a ghost of a grin on Phelan’s face. “Just what I wanted to hear. Shall I return tomorrow?”

“Give me a couple of days. Where are you going?”

“No’ far. I’ll be around,” he said and vanished into the trees.

Whereas Charon had set up a home in Ferness, Phelan was forever wandering. Everything he owned was in a small bag on the back of his Ducati motorcycle.

Charon rubbed his hand over his chest. The wound might be gone, but he couldn’t stop remembering the feel of the blade inside him or the
drough
blood methodically shutting down his organs.

He hadn’t spoken of it to Sonya after she healed him. Mainly because he hadn’t been the only one injured, but more importantly, because no one else had said they continued to feel the poisonous blood once Sonya had worked her healing magic.

Charon hoped it was only because he’d had the
drough
blood inside him for so long, and not because there was something different about him.

He started up the stairs leading to the deck outside his office. Just as he reached the top step, he spotted the shirt.

Hesitantly, he put his hand on the plain black tee. Without a doubt, he knew it had been Laura who put it there. Had she seen him? Was that how she knew his shirt was ruined?

Charon picked up the shirt and turned to where a carafe sat on the table. Steam still drifted through the space in the lid. He bent to retrieve it, and found his gaze locked on Laura.

Her eyes were closed as she swayed enticingly to the music. He had wanted her from the first moment she walked into the pub and asked him for a pint of ale.

He figured with her English accent she was just a tourist passing through as everyone did, but when she asked for his help in locating a room, he knew she saw the beauty of the town as he did.

The next day, he learned she was looking for work. Two years later, and Charon still didn’t know what had brought her to Ferness.

She didn’t pry into his life, and he didn’t pry into hers. Even though he was insanely curious at times. Especially when she would look at a locket she kept in her purse.

Suddenly, Laura stopped and opened her eyes. Their gazes clashed, and as always, Charon found himself arrested by the pale green orbs that stared at him.

It was a good thing she wasn’t a Druid or Charon might give in to his desires. With every Warrior at MacLeod Castle finding their mates with Druids, it was difficult not to think about doing the same.

But he was better off alone. Not to mention, no matter how hard he tried to feel any kind of magic around Laura, there was none.

She wasn’t a Druid, and he had seen enough death in his long life. Not even the lust that burned through his veins could change his mind and have him slack his body with hers.

He knew it would be glorious to have her in his arms, to taste her kisses, and hear her cries of ecstasy, but he couldn’t stand to lose one more person in his life.

So, whatever pleasure he might find in her arms would have to be forgotten.

The glass door slid open and she greeted him with a soft smile he’d come to expect. “I was getting worried.”

Charon glanced at the deck. How much longer would she worry about him? There would come a time he would have to leave Ferness behind forever. The people he knew, the friends he had would stop thinking of him, and he would fade to nothing.

Maybe that’s why Phelan didn’t put down roots anywhere and why the other Warriors kept hidden at MacLeod Castle.

He thought he was doing something good for himself. In reality, he’d only made things more difficult. At one time, things had been so easy, so uncomplicated. Where had it all gone wrong?

CHAPTER THREE

Laura didn’t miss the misery on Charon’s face, and even though she usually kept her distance, she found herself reaching out to him.

Her hand rested on his arm. Beneath her palm she felt the steel of his muscles, the warmth of the man himself. She sucked in a startled breath but didn’t release him.

“Are you all right?” she asked when his dark brown eyes jerked to her face.

“Aye. Thank you,” he said and lifted the arm that held the carafe and the shirt.

She reluctantly dropped her hand, instantly missing his warmth. “No problem.”

Silence lengthened between them until she grew uncomfortable. She glanced down when she felt the cool night air on her toes and realized she had forgotten her shoes inside.

“The day ran smoothly,” she said as she turned to walk back into the office. Work was always a safe topic.

“That’s good.”

She heard the door slide shut and the lock click into place as she put her feet in her heels. “By the way, I sent another e-mail to Dreagan last week.”

His chuckle, deep and soft, filled the room. “You doona give up, do you?”

“No.” She found him standing in front of her, and that’s when she noticed the stains on his shirt. The material was dark, but the stains were obviously blood. She reached out to him again. “Are you hurt?”

Before she could touch him, Charon took a step back and tossed the tee over his shoulder so that it covered the torn section of his shirt. “Nay.”

Laura cleared her throat, wounded that he would lie so blatantly. “Um … anyway, I received an e-mail from Dreagan. They want to meet with you next week.”

“You’re worth your weight in gold. I really doona pay you enough.”

“You pay me plenty,” she said, but preened at his praise. “I told you I’d get you that meeting.”

“I think you need to come with me, then.”

She blinked. This was something knew. Charon always took these meetings himself. “You never take anyone.”

“I’m taking you this time. You need to learn that side of the business. I’m no’ always going to be around to take these meetings, and I need someone I can trust.”

She shook her head emphatically. Her stomach clutched, not at the thought of the meeting, but the idea that Charon wouldn’t always be around. “Oh, no. I’m much better drafting e-mails and letters than in person. Find someone else.”

“You doona see your own worth. Have you no’ noticed how men stare after you?”

“Me?” she asked with a frown. “Charon, no one looks at me.”

“They do.”

His words were softly spoken. The way he held her gaze told her he wasn’t lying, but she still couldn’t quite believe him. Because the one man she wanted to notice her, didn’t.

She looked away and reached for her purse. “I prefer to sit behind a desk for a reason. I’m really not good in front of people. I’m too shy, and some people think I’m rude or cold because of that shyness. In truth, they frighten the crap out of me.”

Charon’s snort had her lifting her gaze to him. “You can no’ even curse, can you?”

“I can.”

“Prove it. Say something.”

She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “I have to be in the right mood,” she hedged.

“Bollocks. You doona like to curse.”

“Well, no. I think the point can come across using other terms.”