Defending Destiny (The Warrior Chronicles) (16 page)

“Business,” he said, answering her question.

“How long will you be gone?”

“As long as it takes.”

“As long as it takes to do what?”

Lauren stopped packing and shot her a narrow-eyed glance. Most people shriveled at his don’t-push-any-harder glare. Daisy just finished her apple and threw the core in the trash bin.

“As long as it takes to satisfy my…
business.
”

“Ah,
that
kind of business. So you saw Magnus and Merry too. For what it’s worth, I think they’re engrossed in those grave slabs and some of the lore surrounding the carving on them. I don’t think Merry is eying anyone but you to do
business
with.”

Lauren opened his mouth. Shut it. Started again to say something, but all that came out was a grunting sound he didn’t recognize as his own. Daisy must have interpreted that as a dismissal, because she pushed up and jumped off his bed, giving him a grin that was all sass. She was halfway out the door when she said, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Don’t do anything in Glasgow I wouldn’t do.”

Since he didn’t want to know what was on that particular list, Lauren didn’t answer. He’d deliberately mislead Daisy. He wasn’t going to Glasgow to get laid. He needed to meet with a very lethal acquaintance he didn’t trust, but needed, if his plan was going to succeed. The Ghost kept his own agenda. Lauren needed him—Magnus too, if they and Daisy were going to turn the crosshairs back onto the Arm-Righ. Lauren needed to be armed for that to happen. So did Daisy. Magnus and Rowan would see to that, so long as Daisy played her part and
found
the tools to help herself. That was Lauren’s business. It could have waited, but seeing Merry laughing with someone else, anyone else, pushed him to leave sooner rather than later.

Business first. Pleasure second.

Unfortunately, all he saw in his mind’s eye when he thought of sinking into that soft liquid warmth that promised oblivion was Merry’s Mae West smile and come-hither eyes; all he heard was her earthy laugh washing over him like warm rain.

Merry had power over him. Lauren acknowledged that truth without judgment. He was smart enough to know that kind of power was better harnessed and ridden than fought. There’d be endless pleasure and opportunity in the former and nothing but destruction in the latter.

It was well past time for pleasure in his life. He was tired of being alone.

Lauren smiled to himself as he zipped his overnight case shut. He’d just decided Merry Peacock was going to spend the rest of her life with him. When decisions were this easy and this
right
, nothing stopped Lauren from following through and making them real.

Not even one perfectly formed Scottish witch.

CHAPTER TWENTY

With Lauren gone for the next few days on
business
, Daisy was free from shooting for a while. Even though Lauren surrounded himself with professionals who were more than competent, he preferred to be hands-on when it came to shooting his documentaries. Daisy skipped directly from Lauren’s room to her own, excited to have some time on her own to explore. She’d been dreaming for days in symbols more than in stories. To her that meant she was bound to find something, even if that something wasn’t exactly what she was seeking.

The thought had her heart pounding and her feet itching to get started on her path, no matter where it led.

She changed into a black sport tank, a pair of cargo pants that concealed tools and blades among other things, and a light jacket. She ditched the high-tech, totally uncomfortable hiking boots that featured Lauren’s corporate underwriter’s logo prominently at the ankle and again on the tongue in front. She opted instead for her well-worn, twice as comfortable hiking tennis shoes; one third the price and three times the practicality. Rummaging through her bureau she found her neon pink
Karate Women do it with more Kick
baseball hat and slapped it on her head. Now she was ready to go. Outfitted and ready to explore.

Daisy grabbed her small pack, ran down the stairs, grabbed a set of hidden motorcycle keys, and threw open the front door. She stopped abruptly.

Standing on the top step, hand extended to knock, was Merlin, her sister’s assistant. She’d almost run him over in her rush out the door, but, he didn’t look the least bit surprised that she was suddenly there in front of him. That was Merlin. True surprise wasn’t in his repertoire.

Daisy didn’t know Merlin’s age. He’d never say, and during the time she’d known him, which was a little over a dozen years, he hadn’t gotten noticeably older. The gleam in his grass green eyes hinted at eternal leprechaun youth, but the knowing there was as old as time. Daisy shook off the feeling that she was somehow seeing into a different world entirely and chose to focus on the very real one in front of her.

“What are you doing here, Merlin?”

“I’ve come to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“With everything.”

Sometimes with Merlin it was better not to ask. He had a way of making even the simplest things complex. Conversely, he seemed to make the complex simple. She appreciated the latter. The former drove her nuts.

Daisy grinned at Merlin and chose to focus on his positive character traits and how they could help her in her quest to find something,
anything
, that would make her indispensable to the Council and the Arm-Righ. “Does that mean you’re
my
assistant now?”

Merlin grinned, and all that Daisy saw was a naughty twenty-something male, not the old man he on occasion let others glimpse. Merlin bowed from the waist, making his flaming red curls fall to the ground. “I am at your service, milady. Now and always. I will assist you whenever it serves you for me to do so.”

Daisy shook her head at him and laughed. Moving back out of the doorway, Daisy made a sweeping gesture for him to enter. “Merlin, as usual, your intent and your words are as clear as mud.”

Merlin winked at her and crossed the threshold into New Kilmartin House. “And here I thought my magic was overly transparent.”

He set his bag down and enveloped Daisy in a quick hug. She’d forgotten just how tall he was until he hugged her. Merlin bent his six-foot-five frame down around her with a liquid grace a professional dancer would have envied. Tall, lanky, and strong, Merlin was so full of mischief, Daisy smiled and laughed with him more than she did with anyone since Magnus lived at Potters Woods. The flipside of Merlin’s mirth was a well of knowledge so deep that Daisy wondered if it had a bottom. The man was indeed a study in contradictions, but he was dependable. Merlin always appeared when she needed him.

Daisy was surprised to see him this time, though. She didn’t need anybody, and the only thing she needed was a major find to secure her status with the Council. That was it. That was all. If Merlin could help with that, he was more than welcome.

Daisy hugged him back, a rush of gratefulness washing over her. “I’m glad you’re here.” She pushed away from him, held him at arm’s length, and smiled up at him. “Are you up for a ride?”

He returned her smile, the twinkle in his eyes making him look even younger. “Always. Where are we going?”

Daisy inhaled deeply, expanding her chest, standing as tall as her frame would allow. She felt stronger and more alive than she had since she lost the Ulfberht. “I’ve got a sword to find and I’ve got a feeling you’re just the man to help.”

Merlin reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a sheet of paper that Daisy recognized as Taryn’s stationery, and handed it to her. “Taryn wanted you to have this. This may give us a place to start looking.”

Daisy felt hope and a sense of foreboding ripple through her. If her sister suggested a place to start looking for a Celtic artifact, that was where Daisy would go. Taryn was gifted, especially so after she’d inadvertently swallowed water from a magic well. That was another story. Daisy opened the paper and read it.

It was time for her to write her own destiny.

…

Taryn’s map was a series of symbols. Some were readily decipherable, like the long sword, stone circles, and a dolmen—a table-like structure made of stone. Dolmens existed long before Daisy’s Celtic ancestors, yet those ancestors attributed significance to them; some as symbols of sexuality and fertility, others as symbols of burial and passage of the soul to the Otherworld after death. Whatever their initial purpose, dolmens and stone circles were now part of the Celtic landscape. They and their mystical essence were absorbed into the Celtic identity, so much so that they became an indelible part of it.

Some of the other symbols were not easily decipherable: the repeating spirals, the lone standing stone with pagan symbols, a waterfall ending in a small pool, and what looked to be blood dripping from a scepter. Those symbols didn’t seem to be part of a map. The waterfall could have been a landmark, but there were easily twice as many waterfalls as there were distilleries, and there were too many distilleries to start there.

So, where to start? There were Pictish stones on the islands and some farther to the north. That just didn’t feel right. The stone Taryn drew on her “map” didn’t have Pictish symbols. It had a spiral, a sword, and what could have been an image of a
Green Man carved into it. Daisy consulted her map of Argyll. There were three stone circles less than a half a day’s ride away. Two of them had dolmens nearby.

Daisy memorized the route to the closest stone circle. There was only one main road, so it wasn’t hard. She plugged the map coordinates into the BMW’s GPS anyway. No sense getting cocky when she had a job to do. She tossed her helmet to Merlin. She’d get another one tomorrow. “Let’s see where Taryn’s map takes us.”

Having Merlin on the back made Daisy more cautious and more aware of the road before her. She wasn’t used to passengers, much less one so tall. Slowly she let out the clutch after tapping the bike into gear. One smooth twist of the throttle and she was on the road with one gangly magician in tow.

As with the rest of her life, Daisy didn’t get it right on the first try. Or even the second. The stone circle she searched for with a dolmen in the distance was in the last and most unlikely place she looked.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Draoidh Castle {Druid’s Castle}, Isle of Skye, Scotland

“This meeting of the High Council will come to order,” said the King’s Second, in his commanding, yet gratingly obsequious way. “All stand for Arm-Righ, High King of the Damselfly Court, the Right Honorable James Duncan, Earl of Dreich.”

There was nothing honorable about James Duncan or his actions toward Daisy and her family, but since the man was King, Lauren MacBain stood out of respect for the office. Lauren looked at his watch with the detachment of a man who knew exactly what time it was, give or take five seconds. The call to order came two minutes and fifty seconds after the meeting was scheduled to begin. The delay was the King’s nod to his own importance; subtle, yet there for all to experience.

The Arm-Righ liked to make his Ceannard, his commanders-in-chief, wait, but he didn’t usually dare to waste the full Council’s time. The Council consisted of thirteen Ceannard and nine Bringers of the Light, teachers who shared with the public matters of Celtic mysticism that the Council thought needed sharing. Taryn was a Bringer and she’d shared more than what the King or the Council approved. The King really didn’t care that she didn’t get Council approval. The fact that Taryn shared what the King coveted, in
contraveyance of
his
direct order, marked her and the rest of the Bennett family. The King would hurt anyone close to Taryn he could get away with hurting. Currently, Daisy was at the top of his list.

There were other high-ranking representatives present who were not officially members of the Council but were part of the hierarchy of the Society. Some had authority outside the reach of the Arm-Righ. Since they were there, and the King had made them wait just long enough so as not to engender a protest, there was more going on with the meeting than Lauren was ready for. Perhaps that was what Dougie MacDonald had tried to prepare him for.

Lord and Lady save me from petty Council politics.

Lauren smiled ruefully, eyes narrowed, silently scanning the crowd for anything out of the ordinary. He hated the current backstabbing political machinations of the King and Council, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t very good at the game.

Lauren stood with the rest of the attendees, if a millisecond after—his own nod to the Arm-Righ’s lack of importance. He did not have his usual seat at the table. Since he planned to request that Daisy be named a certified Finder, he was a supplicant at the meeting. He sat apart from the others, unable to vote, separate and alone.

Being alone hadn’t bothered him much before going to Kilmartin. He noticed the feeling more over the last few days and found it uncomfortable. Maybe it was time to get back to Merry, or get a dog.