Haunted Warrior (36 page)

“That’s true, but I love Grath more than I dislike them. Besides”—­he winked—­“I have some stipulations I’ll insist on.”

Kendra smiled at last. “And they are?”

He returned her smile. “I’ll demand that they arrange a good portion of all profits to flow into Pennard so the village can always be maintained without too much of a financial burden on the locals. And I’ll ask them to match the sum they would’ve spent on the Pennard Project and put it in an emergency trust for village residents in need. And—­”

“That’s quite a lot already.” Kendra loved it.

“I’ll also see that they sign over Lora Finney’s house so it can be turned into the lending library and tearoom you suggested.” He cupped her chin, watching her face. “Lora was a good woman. She deserved better and would’ve loved seeing her books enjoyed.”

“And her prize-­winning scones.” Kendra’s throat
tightened with emotion. “Something tells me she’ll know what you’re doing and will be so glad.”

“The best is to come.” His smile deepened. “I’ll insist they purchase Ramsay’s Spindrift and turn the house over to Aberdeen University so that a seal-­research outpost can be set up there. I’ll make sure funds from Grath support that work. And”—­he paused for a breath—­“I’ll arrange for part of the Spindrift property to be converted into a rescue facility for injured and ailing seabirds.”

“Oh, Graeme.” Kendra blinked hard, thinking of Bart and the other seals and the countless seabirds that had delighted her during their boat outing along the coast. “That’s such a wonderful idea.”

And oh how she’d have loved to see it all happen.

That she wouldn’t be here made her eyes burn all the more. And when the first tear slipped down her cheek, she broke away from Graeme and turned aside, not wanting him to see her cry.

She never cried, didn’t like getting emotional.

But right now…

She took a long, deep breath, hoping Graeme wouldn’t notice how shaky it was.

Then, when she was sure her voice wouldn’t catch, she turned back around, determined to steer the subject in a different direction.

Needy animals always got to her, so seals and injured seabirds were something she didn’t want to touch on.

“You said you had an idea how to destroy the Shadow Wand?”
There!
His face turned instantly serious.

“Aye.” He strolled over to her, stopping about a foot away. “If I’m reading the spells right, the Grimoire has a few I can try that should cause the cavity inside the cliff to close. If that happens, the rock will press in on the wand, crushing it. Such a possibility wouldn’t have
worked before. But with Ramsay dead—­and just so you know, I’ll tell the authorities he was up here searching about and must’ve fallen on his own—­he was the last of his line, as far as I know.

“That means Morcant’s tainted blood ended with Ramsay. If the Grimoire has it correctly, the wand’s power dies when that befouled lineage runs out.

“So the wand can now be crushed, if I can cast the spell” He looked aside, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean to try soon.”

“And the trapped souls?” Kendra wondered.

“Ach, well…” Graeme looked back at her. “Supposedly, they’ll be released, every last one of them. Of course, I won’t know for sure. How can I? Unless…”

He stepped closer, pulling her into his arms again. “Unless you’re around to watch and would see the souls leaving the cliff as they escaped. You should be able to do that.” He looked at her, lifting a brow.

“I should, yes.” She bit her lip, not trusting herself to say anything else.

Once Zack got word that the Pennard case was a wrap, it’d be time for her to fly home.

“When are you planning on doing this?” She had to ask.

“As soon as possible, I think.” Something in his tone made her eyes blurry again. “I’m hoping you’ll be able to use your skill to soothe any disgruntled spirits that might decide to hang around once they’ve been released. Could you do that, encourage them to move along?”

She nodded. “I could, I’m sure.”

He looked pleased. “That’s good.” He glanced at Jock, who’d sidled over to them, tail wagging. “Jock’s been with me a long time, and the Keel’s just the right size for the two of us. Three wouldn’t be a problem, either,
but it’d be a bit tight with so many spirits about if any of them took a liking to the cottage.”

Kendra only heard
three wouldn’t be a problem
. She blinked furiously, dashed at the dampness on her face. “What are you saying? It sounds”—­she could hardly speak—­“like you’re asking me to stay with you.”

“And if I was?” He grinned.

Jock barked, looking equally pleased.

“Oh, dear…” Kendra couldn’t see a thing.

“Is that your answer?” Graeme wiped her cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t know what you’re asking.” She had an idea, but she wanted to be sure.

“Hear that, Jock?” Graeme reached down to rub his dog’s ears. “She’s forgotten I told her how special she is last time we were up here. That I’ve never met anyone like her and haven’t ever felt this way about any other woman. And”—­he turned back to her—­“it also seems to have slipped your mind that I said I didn’t want you to leave, that we’d find some way for you to stay on here.”

Kendra took a long, steadying breath. “I remember all that.”

“Aye, right, then. What’s your answer?” He slanted a wink at Jock. “Will you make a man and his dog happy? Will you stay with us? For a while, at least? Long enough to see if you can tolerate the two of us on a permanent basis, settle in to life in a tiny Scottish fishing village?”

“I’d love to, but my work…”

“Have you ne’er heard how many ghosts haunt Scottish castles? Or roam our battlefields and glens?” His words made her heart pound, let her feel buoyant with hope. “I’ll speak with your employer, present him with an opportunity he couldn’t secure on his own.

“Your kind of work is cut out for you here.” He lifted
her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. “If you’ll give it a go.”

“I…” She bit her lip, considering.

Jock grinned at her, his tongue lolling. It was a look she couldn’t refuse. As for the expression on his master’s face…

“Oh, Graeme…” She threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him. “I can’t think of anything I’d love more. Yes, yes—­a thousand times yes!”

“Then let me kiss you, Kendra, lass.” He took her face in his hands and did just that, kissing her long and deep as the night wind whistled past them, and the great North Sea breakers crashed against the shore.

Epilogue

The Keel
Pennard, Scotland
Several months later

“It’s stopped raining.”

Kendra jumped at Saami’s familiar voice, almost dropping the dinner plate she’d been about to dip into a dishpan of steaming, soapy water. Graeme’s kitchen didn’t boast a dishwasher. And in the bliss-­filled months since she’d moved in with him, the cottage also hadn’t been visited by a single ghost.

That dry spell included the three spirits who acted as her guides.

Yet they were here now.

Saami perched on the edge of the big oak table. Raziel leaned against the counter less than a foot away from her. And Ordo had struck a manly pose near the
hutch, legs spread and arms crossed. They all looked at her expectantly, as if they expected praise.

“What are you doing here?” Kendra kept her voice lowered, not wanting Graeme to hear.

He sat in the cottage’s best room with Jock, poring over the strange symbols and weird texts of his Grimoire, as he did every night. The spell he’d hoped would allow him to destroy the Shadow Wand had failed. And he’d been trying to find the right one ever since.

“We came because you wouldn’t have noticed how clear the night is otherwise.” Saami produced an apple and took a bite, her dark eyes knowing as she flicked a glance at the door to the hallway. “How can you with a man like Graeme in the next room, waiting to ravish you?”

Raziel sent her a glacial look. “We came for more reasons than the cessation of rain.”

Kendra glanced at the window, only now noting how the harbor gleamed in the moonlight, the earlier drizzle no longer spoiling her view.

She blinked for a moment, not trusting her eyes. It’d rained every day and night since the fateful evening on the cliffs at Castle Grath when Gavin Ramsay had plunged to his death.

She’d begun to think it always rained in Scotland.

And her spirit guides weren’t kind enough to pop by just to remind her there was such a thing as a rainless night. Raziel had said as much.

Kendra turned to him now, not intimidated by his powerful presence. “Why are you here? I know you’ll have a message. You wouldn’t appear otherwise.”

“Could be we wished to talk sense into that man of yours.” Ordo strode forward, his blue eyes flashing. “Has he told you he loves you? Asked you to be his wife? Instead he keeps silent, grieving over seventy-­five years—­”

“Be still, you fool.” Raziel’s tone could’ve frozen ice. “It is not our place to reveal secrets. Kendra”—­he glanced at her, his voice less severe—­“will know the significance of the night’s clarity, just as she will follow her heart when we tell her to watch the ground.”

“The ground?” Kendra set down the plate she’d been holding. “Can’t you tell me more than that?”

But she found herself speaking to air.

Her spirit guides were gone.

She saw why at once, her gaze snapping to the kitchen door, where Graeme and Jock stood watching her. Jock looked excited, as if he, too, had noticed that rain no longer spattered the roof and windows. Graeme’s expression was guarded. His glance at the window hinted why the clear night mattered.

How could she have forgotten?

She’d told him it was sometimes difficult to see spirits in misting rain. Depending on how they chose to manifest, some could appear as whisper-­thin as a breath. Such a soul would be even harder to spot in the kind of weather they’d had these last months.

And even if Graeme found the right spell to obliterate the Shadow Wand, he hadn’t wanted to risk Kendra not being able to see the fleeing spirits.

Destroying the relic was crucial.

But so was ensuring that no long-­trapped souls lingered, too confused after so many centuries of confinement to know how to seek true peace.

Kendra could help them.

But she needed a clear night to do so.

“I think I’ve finally found the magic we need.” Graeme stepped into the kitchen, his dog right beside him. “It’s a conjuration using the names of many saints and gods, a few ancient words powerful enough to control and break the darkest evil.”

“Oh, Graeme!” Kendra dried her hands, hurried over to him. “Did you just come across the spell?”

He shook his head. “I stumbled upon it a while ago. The answer was encoded inside a palindrome, a word square I’d been eyeing for years.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “Now I believe I’d cracked its secrets. I’ve spent the last weeks memorizing the spell. It’s too dangerous to risk speaking one wrong letter.”

Kendra looked at him, the implication of his words making her heart leap.

Now she knew why he’d gone so quiet in recent times. She’d worried he’d decided they weren’t good for each other and that he was just biding time to say so. She glanced past him, across the darkened hall into the best room, where the fire glow fell across the leather-­tooled cover of the Book of Shadows, lying closed on the sofa.

Kendra shivered, looking back to Graeme. “You’ve seen that the rain’s stopped.”

He nodded. “I noticed at once. It’s time, lass. Let’s put this to rest, if we can.”

Jock barked and bounded down the narrow hall that led to the front of the house. Kendra and Graeme followed the dog to the door.

“I must warn you, the spell doesn’t say what happens to its caster after the magic is worked.” Graeme glanced at her as he reached for the latch. “There will be a price, even if things go well.”

“Yet you’re going to do it.” Kendra knew there was no stopping him. She touched his jaw, stroking. “You’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.” She hoped only she heard the tremor in her voice.

“Longer than you know.” His eyes glinted in the hall’s dimness. Then he opened the door, taking her hand as they stepped out into the cold, starlit night.

Chill wind blew in from the sea, and the air smelled of
wet earth swept down from the cliffs by all the recent rain. The stone pathway along the side of the house was thick with mud. A morass that didn’t bother Jock as he leapt away from them, streaking toward Graeme’s barrel shed and the soaring rock face behind the cottage.

“I’m sorry about the mud, sweet.” Graeme glanced at her. “I’d carry you to spare your shoes, but I must begin the incantations now and will need all my concentration. I’ll buy you new shoes when this is over.”

“I don’t care about shoes.” She didn’t, starting forward down the path, the mud squelching up around her feet. “What’s a bit of muck, anyway?”

I love you, Kendra. More than you know.

She froze after only a few paces, not sure she’d heard him say the words she’d waited so long to hear. When she glanced over her shoulder, she couldn’t tell, because he’d closed his eyes and lifted his arms in the air, chanting words in a strange language that sounded more ancient—­and unsettling—­than anything she’d ever heard.

She knew not to interrupt him.

She shut her own eyes for a moment, summoning the protective white-­light energy that was her psychic defense. She also asked her spirit guides, and all the powers, to watch over her, Graeme, and Jock.

It was all she could do.

That, and watch for the poor souls Graeme hoped to free from his family’s relic.

If they came, she’d use her gift to give them the warmth, love, and encouragement they’d need to seek the peace and rest they’d been denied so long.

Then Graeme was beside her, his face grim as he took her hand, leading her down the rest of the path to its end before the cliff.

A small space opened there, littered with mud and bits of debris that had washed down in the autumnal
torrents. His coat full of muck now, Jock prowled back and forth along the foot of the cliff. The dog’s hackles were lifted, his low growls proving he understood what lurked inside the dark crack visible in the rock face.