Defending Destiny (The Warrior Chronicles) (26 page)

“Gus, I love you. Part of me, the biggest part, always has. Will you do me the honor of calling you ‘husband’? I’m ready to be your wife.”

He looked at her for the space of a breath, his face expressionless. Then something primal came over him. His expression shifted into a mask of possession so blatant that had she seen that look on any other man’s face she would have been afraid. But not with Magnus. Never with her Gus.

He threw back his head, arched his back, and howled loud enough to make her world shake.

Then she was on top of him and he was grinning at her. “Now I know why my father didn’t want to let my mother go until the deed was done.”

Daisy laughed. “Is that a yes?”

“That’s a ‘get dressed, I’ll go find Merlin.’”

The glass breaking as a shot rent the air stopped all talk of weddings. The bullet grazed Daisy’s shoulder, lodging itself in the wall behind the headboard. Magnus rolled them both to the floor before the last shard of glass fell.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

He bided his time waiting for the perfect shot. He had a good view into Daisy’s room from the church bell tower, but every time he got a clear sight through the scope, he had a better shot of Magnus than of Daisy.

Watching the two of them go at it for hours on end had been bad enough. Seeing Alexander’s backside swizzle and shake was downright painful. He’d have shot him in the ass if he thought it would do any good. It wouldn’t. Daisy was the one who needed to feel his bullet’s sting.

For her sake.

For his sake.

For the sake of King and Council.

He took his shot, winging her before Alexander had her on the floor, out of sight. There was nothing to do now except pack up and get out as cleanly as possible.

…

Lauren and Merry burst into Daisy’s room seconds later. Lauren in lounging pants and nothing else and Merry wearing one of Lauren’s shirts that hit her mid-thigh. It was painfully obvious they hadn’t been discussing the weather over afternoon tea.

Lauren looked around, spotting the sniper’s perch immediately. He made himself a target by standing directly in front of the bullet hole. No more shots were forthcoming. Satisfied, he turned to Magnus, who had pulled Daisy toward the bureau, away from any potential lines of fire. Merry was already at Daisy’s side, assessing the damage.

Merry tried to see to Daisy’s wound, but Magnus kept pushing her hands away.

Daisy tried to get up. Magnus held her tight. “Gus, I’m okay. It just stings.” Then she looked down and saw blood flowing freely down her arm. “Oh, wow. That’s a lot of blood,” she managed to say before passing out.

Lauren knelt next to Magnus. “Whoever shot that round is gone. Take Daisy to the kitchen and let Merry see to her wound.”

When Magnus didn’t acknowledge Lauren, Lauren shared a glance with Merry. Her look said it wasn’t bad but they needed to see to it quickly. Lauren spoke low and soft, putting a hand on Magnus’ shoulder, like they had all the time in the world. “Gus, get her downstairs. Let Merry clean her up. See if you can find Gerry. He’s seen more than his share of gunshot wounds. I’ll meet you in the kitchen after I do a little recon.”

Magnus looked up at Lauren. “Go. Now.”

Magnus picked Daisy up and took her to the kitchen, pausing only long enough to wrap her in the comforter from the bed.

…

Magnus looked at Merry, reluctant to look away from Daisy, who he still held in his lap. “How bad is it?” he asked, more fear than anger riding him. He’d never felt so damn helpless in his entire life.

Merry spared him a quick glance, laced with understanding, but her voice was matter-of-fact when she said, “Her blood is well oxygenated. It’s clotting, but not as rapidly as I’d like. There’s a lot of blood, but the bullet didn’t do any lasting damage. It missed the bone, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt like a bitch when she wakes. It’ll leave a scar, but nothing more.” She paused and her voice became more speculative. “Pretty good shooting, I’d say. Lots of blood, very little damage. No reason for her to be unconscious, really.”

Magnus gave a small smile. “As tough as she is, Daisy doesn’t like the sight of blood.” He laughed once, the small sound catching in his throat. “You should have seen her when her sister broke my father’s nose. She threw up all over the place. I teased her about it for weeks.”

Merry finished cleaning Daisy’s wound, grabbed the mortar and pestle from the counter, and added some herbs and some astringent-smelling liquid to the mortar from her medicine pouch. She mixed it together and let it sit while she stitched the wound. When she was done stitching, she crushed the mixture some more and put in on the stitches, chanting words in Gaelic in series of three. When that was complete, Merry covered the entire area with sterile bandages and secured them with surgical tape.

His mentor did a whole lot more than bake.

Somewhere between the mortar and pestle and the bandages, Magnus felt Daisy stiffen. Although she didn’t open her eyes, her breathing became more controlled. Merry noticed it too, but didn’t say anything about it.

“If Daisy faints at the sight of blood, how is she going to fair in a sword battle with the Arm-Righ’s Second, if it comes to that?” Merry said.

Daisy answered, “She’s going to kick whatever ass needs kicking,
if it comes to that
.” Daisy opened her eyes as Lauren stepped into the kitchen. “Is it going to come to that, Lauren?”

Lauren looked at her, a cold look on his face, legs spread, arms loose, but not idle, at his sides. “Yes. It’s going to come to that. Sooner, rather than later.”

Daisy sat up in Magnus’ lap, wincing as she tried to stand. Magnus tried to hold her, but she looked at him in such a way that he let her go. She got to her feet, thankful Magnus wrapped the comforter around her middle like a giant beach towel. She stood without swaying for a moment, but a moment was all she needed. “Well then, you’d better track down Merlin. He’s got my sword.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Getting dressed was painful, but Magnus helped her do it with a gentleness that made her heart ache. She’d made the right decision where their relationship was concerned. She was stronger with him than without him. She loved him and she wanted to make a life with him. No doubt about it.

Nothing like getting shot, even peripherally, to get your priorities straight.

Whether her priorities were in order or not, she was royally pissed that someone took a shot at her. If it was the Arm-Righ, or the Council, they threw out the playbook. Firearms were not to be used, swords were. Now she’d have to start a new list.

Top Ten Reasons Not to take a Sword to a Gun Fight:

1. You can’t block a bullet with a blade no matter how well it’s done in the movies.

2. You can’t block a bullet with a blade…

3. You can’t…

“Block a bullet with a blade. Ouch, Magnus, that hurt.” Daisy batted his hand away as he tried to get one of his humungous t-shirts over her head. Batting hurt too. “Bloody everlasting hell.”

Magnus backed away, knowing when to let her do it herself. After adjusting the ridiculously long shirt over her sweatpants, she scowled at him, as if any of this were his fault. Apparently getting shot made her cranky. She’d file that away for future reference.

He smiled sadly at her, like he felt her pain, but he didn’t try to help again. “I think you’re sleep’n too close to me, lass. You’re picking up my proclivity for profanity.”

Just like that, her shoulders slumped and all the misplaced rage went out of her. If she knew Magnus, and she did, she was betting his insides were a mass of venomous, writhing snakes right about now and he was trying to not let her see his fear and his pain. All the men she loved were like that—passionate in a fiery way, but never showing fear or pain to their women.

Daisy crossed the room to him. All the curtains were closed as a precaution, not that it would help. She reached up with her left hand and caressed his face, rubbing her palm against the stubble he hadn’t had the time to shave off. “I’m all right, you know. No real damage. Just enough pain to make me want to sample some of the dirt you call scotch.”

She’d meant to make him smile, but he shuddered instead. “If I lost you…”

She cut him off. “You didn’t. You’re not going to.”

He kissed her softly, just the barest brush of his lips, as if they were somehow in pain too. Daisy didn’t laugh, she didn’t dare. If it had been him who was shot, she’d be tearing apart Argyll by now. Magnus was smarter than that. Together they’d find the person ultimately responsible. When they did, Daisy was going to make him bleed. Not for herself, but for what he’d just put her man through.

“The constables are downstairs. We should probably go down and talk to them. Lauren will want you there to verify that no harm’s been done. The last thing we need is official eyes on us.”

Daisy thought about that a moment. Could that have been part of the plot, she wondered?

“Are you up to it?” Magnus asked.

“Of course.”

…

Lauren used all of his considerable talents to convince the local authorities that the shot was just a stray bullet from a hunter; an unfortunate accident. No real harm done. No, they didn’t want to press any charges. Yes, he understood they would have to do their own inquiry to ensure the public safety. No, they wouldn’t be leaving, they were that sure it was nothing more than a fluke. Yes, everyone would cooperate if any more questions arose.

It took the better part of an hour to get them to leave, but when they finally did Lauren was reasonably certain he’d put the matter to bed. The constables would go door to door and ask about firearms and whether they were permitted and secured, but they would most likely be the extent of their investigation. What else could they do when the “victims” said they didn’t feel victimized? Not much. It would die down by the end of the week. Daisy needed a few days of rest before she could start her training. It was a graze, but it had taken a generous notch of skin and probably burned like a son of a bitch.

Merry came up behind Lauren and wrapped her arms around him, laying her cheek at his back. He held still for a moment, comforted by her presence, calmed by her touch. “It’s not causing her pain—not much, anyway. My poultice has seen to that. She’ll be right as rain in a day
or so. Even the scar won’t be bad, laird.”

Lauren didn’t question Merry. He believed her. “Good,” he said, pulling her around for a kiss. He spent longer at it than he should have given the fact that his Second had just been attacked and she had yet to learn why. “Shall we join the others? I need to inform Daisy of her status and Magnus has yet to show her the pendant his parents brought for her.”

He looked down into Merry’s dark brown eyes, wondering what secrets she kept hidden behind them. He knew she was special from the moment they met. He knew she’d change his life by the time their first conversation ended. He knew she’d be an invaluable ally the moment he saw the star tattoos on the bottoms of her feet.

“You’ve seen the pendant?”

“I have.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“What I know, MacBain, I’ll share, if it helps you. What is merely potential, I can only speculate on, and speculation can be a dangerous game.”

They were all about to learn just how dangerous.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Daisy sat in, of all places, the laundry room, with Magnus, Merry, and Lauren. Apparently the house was bugged. Lauren knew it. Magnus knew it. Even Merry was privy to that little tidbit of information. Daisy replayed some of her noisier encounters with Magnus in her head. She had nothing to be embarrassed about on that score. Not really. If they wanted to listen, she hoped she’d made their ears bleed. She just didn’t like the idea of pouring her heart out and having some stranger roll their eyes while they listened. That bothered her. She didn’t want anyone in her head she hadn’t invited there.

Daisy held in the palm of her hand the pendant Taryn asked Mari to make. For the life of her she didn’t understand why it was so valuable that it needed to be hand-delivered. It was a collection of symbols artfully displayed. To the casual observer, it would look like one of the popular pieces that tell the story of Scotland and Ireland through symbols like trinity knots, sheep, and wheat. Only this one had symbols that were by no means universally recognizable.

There were three swords forming a semicircle, with a fourth extending the opposite way toward a scepter. The scepter had an inverted “v” like she’d seen at the stone circle and then again carved into the standing stone where she claimed her sword. This one, however, had three vertical lines that extended downward from the point. Daisy began to believe the inverted “v” was some sort of ancient religious symbol. That was her best guess, since she’d found similar symbols marking two sacred sites. Next to the scepter with the inverted “v” on top was a grave slab similar to the ones she’d seen Merry and Magnus examining in the church courtyard next to the museum. This one had an image of a knight holding a sword like many of its life-sized counterparts in the churchyard, only this knight was wearing a kilt and the sword was dripping blood.