Midnight's Promise (10 page)

With a low growl, he shoved aside the arousal he felt and ran faster. He turned the corner and came to a halt just inside the room.

Only once before had he come this close to the hated room. Even now he could feel the hundreds—the thousands—of Druids who had been murdered for their magic.

He clenched his fists in an effort not to be taken down by the lingering terror from the souls who had died upon the large table in the center of the room.

Malcolm drew in a breath, glad to feel the tightness in his chest lessen. That’s when he spotted the Druid running her finger along the grooves cut into the table that sloped to all four corners.

He pulled back his lips and had the Druid up against the wall, his hand around her neck in the next moment. “I could snap your neck with a twist of my wrist.”

“Malcolm,” she wheezed and grabbed at his hand.

“What are you doing here? Can you no’ feel the death of this room? Can you no’ sense the anguish from the Druids who were killed here?”

Her gaze darted to the table. With cold calculation he knew just the amount of pressure to keep against her windpipe to let her know how precarious her position was.

“Those grooves you were looking at collected the blood from the slit wrists. The blood would pool at the corners and drip into goblets below. Deirdre would drain the Druid strapped to that table of their magic and their blood. Then she would trap their souls. After it was done, she would drink their blood.”

“Pl-please,” she rasped.

“If you didna want evil to touch you, you shouldna have come to this chamber.”

Clear blue eyes met his. She didn’t beg. She stopped clawing at his hand. Malcolm waited for her to throw him against the opposite wall with her magic. Instead, she gazed at him, waiting for … what he didn’t know.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, her wide pink lips parted to let in air. He bit back a groan when the coldness that had taken him began to fade. To be replaced by a fiery heat that scorched him from the inside out, begging him to kiss her, to take her lips, to taste her.

Her magic was wrapping around his arm and sliding over his body, descending through his skin into his bones. The arousal he’d ignored a short time before returned with a vengeance.

He found himself leaning into her. With his body demanding release, and the source of his yearning in his grasp, Malcolm couldn’t find a reason not to kiss her. Then he noticed his hand locked around the slim column of her throat.

Malcolm blinked. Twice.

Anger. That’s what had taken hold of him. He relished the rage he let loose during battle, but he’d taken it out on a Druid.

Instantly, he released her and took two steps back. She drew in a ragged breath and coughed while she held a hand against her throat.

He’d come close to killing her. He realized that now, almost too late. Were his thoughts about ending all Druids bleeding over to reality?

“I didn’t know,” she said on a wheeze. “I swear. I didn’t know.”

Malcolm glanced down at this hand, a hand that had nearly taken another life. Somehow he wasn’t surprised by that revelation. It seemed all he was good for was dealing out death and betrayal.

And the others wondered why he kept his distance.

He doubted his fellow Warriors would so eagerly welcome him if they knew what he’d nearly done. Malcolm thought of Phelan, who had reached out to him weeks ago.

Malcolm had been told the castle was his home and those within its walls his family. Larena and Fallon made sure of it, but everyone else kept their distance.

Except for Phelan. He was the only one who tried to become a friend. Friends. Malcolm wasn’t even sure he knew what that term meant anymore.

“Malcolm?”

He looked up at the Druid, recalling that he wasn’t alone. Faint bruises marked her throat yet her clear eyes held a measure of concern. For him.

It was laughable. She should be worried about her safety, not him.

“I went exploring,” she said in the silence. She swallowed several times before she continued, “I … there was a coldness about this room that frightened me. I wanted to know why. That’s all. I swear.”

“If you stay, I’ll hurt you again. And I can no’ leave this place until you do.”

She took a step toward him, and it was all it took for him to retreat. Malcolm, the Warrior who was a murderer and betrayer, retreating from a Druid. He was just thankful Deirdre wasn’t there to see it.

“You hate this place,” she said.

“More than you could possibly understand.”

“Help me to understand it then,” she urged. “You started the story, but you didn’t finish it.”

He shook his head, his eyes drawn to the fuchsia-and-gold sweater that hugged her breasts like a second skin. One minute he wanted to be inside the Druid, pounding into her tight body, and the next he wanted to kill her.

“Deirdre was here. She ruled and became overconfident. She was killed, and regenerated her body to come back and wreak more havoc on us. She was transported into the future and betrayed by someone she wasn’t expecting. That betrayal allowed her twin, Laria, to kill her.”

“Oh,” the Druid said with wide eyes.

“Declan stepped in where Deirdre had been. There were many battles and several deaths before he was killed. And as always, there’s a new evil to take his place. It’s never going to end.”

“There can’t be good without evil.”

It was the second time she’d said the words. He wanted to dismiss them, but he couldn’t because he knew they were the truth.

How did he fit into such a world? And did he even want to try? He had attempted it at the castle, but he’d felt confined, imprisoned. If he couldn’t become a part of something at the castle, where could he? Where did he belong?

“Somewhere that gives you peace.”

He jerked at the Druid’s words. He hadn’t even realized he’d spoken aloud.

Malcolm took one more look at her tempting lips before he turned on his heel and strode away.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

Evie’s heart still pounded as she watched Malcolm walk away. She shivered as she looked around the chamber. If she’d had any idea just what it was, she never would have ventured into it.

But it wasn’t the room that gave her pause. It was Malcolm. During the entire incident, his face had remained impassive, his eyes empty.

It was his voice and actions that gave her an inkling of his wrath. And it had been tremendous. His words had been clipped, harsh, and as icy as winter.

Evie rubbed her neck. Malcolm had moved swiftly to have her against the wall before she even had time to realize what was going on. His hand had been like steel holding her in place.

His fingers had been firm, his hold solid, but not once had he harmed her. Frightened her, yes, but never hurt.

Unable to resist another look, Evie’s gaze returned to the massive stone table in the center of the room. Now she understood what the dark stains were.

Blood. How many innocents had died by Deirdre’s hand? If Malcolm could be believed, it was thousands. All to take their magic. Which was something else she hadn’t known a Druid could do.

Yet that was black magic. That was delving into an area she had no interest in discovering. She didn’t consider herself a saint, but neither did she want to hand over her soul for the sake of using forbidden magic.

Evie walked out of the chamber with shaky legs. She put her hand on the wall. “Is what Malcolm said true about the room? Did Deirdre take the lives of Druids for their magic?”

“Yessss. She was meant to rule the world.”

“By killing people?” she asked the stones in horror.

“A necessity only. There was no other choice.”

But Evie knew there was. Deirdre could have refused. “I’m not like that. I won’t fill the spot Deirdre left.”

“Nay. Never,”
the rocks whispered.
“Too pure.”

Evie held back a snort. Barely. “Pure. Yeah, not what I’d consider myself. If you knew how I made my neighbor Mrs. Finch think she was going daft by sneaking into her house and moving things, you wouldn’t call me pure.”

“Pure. Too pure.”

She rolled her eyes and started toward her chamber when she changed her mind. “Where is Malcolm?”

“Looking. He’s always looking, always watching.”

“What is he watching?”

“Everything.”

“But where in this mountain is he? Above or below me?”

The rocks didn’t answer right away, making her think they would rather her not know.
“Below,”
they finally responded.

“Lead me to him,” she urged.

Evie followed their instructions, glad the torches continued to light the way with barely a thought from her. With every step she took toward Malcolm, she wondered if she was going a bit daft herself.

He’d not only told her he couldn’t be trusted, but he had pinned her against the wall. The only thing that kept her walking was that he hadn’t killed her.

Then there were his words before he stalked away. He hadn’t known he’d spoken aloud. The surprise that flickered for the briefest second in his azure gaze had told her that.

Malcolm was like a wounded animal. Something awful had happened to him that scarred his body and broke his soul. Though she’d never been a woman who felt the need to change or heal a man, she felt compelled to go to him.

It was a lot like walking into a cage with a tiger, but onward she went.

The deeper she walked into the mountain, the more she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was sinking further and further into a life she both sought and feared.

Evie turned a corner and saw light flare out of the corner of her eye. She instantly turned and frowned at the amount of illumination flickering on the walls.

Ever the curious one, she walked through a doorway and gasped as she found herself on a balcony overlooking a cavern of immense height and width.

Torches hung all around the walls, but it was the large round candelabra hanging from the ceiling that caught her attention.

“Wow,” she whispered in awe.

She could only guess that this is where Deirdre had ruled over … what? Druids? That didn’t seem right since she’d killed them.

“The men whose gods she unbound,” Evie said with a nod.

Deirdre had wanted to control them for her use. The MacLeods had gotten away, but many others must have remained. Where were they now? she wondered.

What kind of woman sought that much power? What had been lacking in her life that it needed to be filled in such a way? Evie was afraid to ask the questions aloud and receive the answers.

That kind of woman was better left unknown, just as those questions were better left unasked.

Evie turned and retraced her steps until she was once more in the corridor and on her way to Malcolm. It was fifteen minutes later that she ducked beneath a low-hanging entrance. There were no torches that lit for her.

She could make out the first few feet in front of her because of the light coming from behind, but only pitch black met her beyond that.

Instead of bolting, she squared her shoulders. The stones wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her. She could tell the room was fairly large, but Malcolm could be anywhere.

“You shouldna be here,” came his deep timbre that made her stomach quiver in anticipation.

“I don’t mean to disturb your privacy. I just wanted … I don’t know what I wanted. It just felt right to come to you.”

“You wouldna say that if you knew the person I was.”

“I’m getting an idea of who you are. You’re the one who came to warn me about the Druid who lived here before. You’re the one who could’ve killed me and didn’t.”

“Maybe I’m waiting to kill you.”

Evie looked around the darkness and took a tentative step into it. Malcolm was there somewhere. The size of the room prevented her from pinpointing where exactly. “If you wanted me dead, you would’ve already done it. You’re trying too hard to get me to leave.”

Silence.

Damn. She’d hoped that would make him see that she knew he was lying. Evie took several more steps, hearing the stones whisper about dips in the floor or boulders she needed to avoid.

“Do you have family?” she asked.

Seconds ticked by. Just as she was about to give up he said, “A cousin.”

That was it? All he had in the way of family was a cousin? Well, all she had was Brian. “I have a brother. Half-brother actually. He’s an amazing kid, and he’s counting on me. If something happens to me, he’ll be alone.”

“Then stop whatever it is that’s making you hide here.”

“It’s not that simple.” But how she wished it was. “My curiosity has always been my worst trait.” Evie blew out a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say, very badly I might add, is that I could use a friend.”

“You doona want me for a friend. I’m no’ a good man.”

“Maybe. I’m not exactly a good person either.” Evie put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I think I’ve gotten myself into something that could put my life in danger. I … I’m scared, Malcolm. This place, these stones have allowed me to breathe a little easier. I’m not Deirdre, and I’ve made sure the stones realize that.”

She’d hoped Malcolm might answer her, but it looked like she was wrong. Evie dropped her hands. “You know where to find me. I’d like to hear the rest of that story you’ve yet to finish.”

Malcolm let her soft, sweet voice fill his mind. His eyes remained closed while he kept his body in check against the exotic, brilliant magic.

With her movement, however, his eyes snapped open. He moved directly beside her as she spoke. His brain demanded he keep his distance, but his body—and his god—wanted closer.

He lifted a hand as she spun around. Dark curls slid over his palm and against his fingers. It was all he dared, all he could risk. But that simple touch left him with a deep, vast longing that would never be filled.

She had come to him. After he threw her against the wall and choked her. She’d come to him. His mind could barely wrap around it.

He watched as she exited the chamber and made her way back to her room. He had the chance to leave when he’d felt her magic grow closer and closer to him.