Highland Mist (28 page)

“I suppose the Druids taught you that.” As soon as the words were out his mouth he regretted them. “Glenna, I—”

“Shhh,” she said, and put a finger on his lips. “It’s true I learned this from Moira, but it’s the truth regardless of who taught me. You’re making this more difficult for yourself.”

“How’s that?”

“You can’t see anything other than your hatred of the Druids. It’s the truth I don’t know how you can stand the sight of me.”

He longed to push aside his past and think clearly, but he couldn’t. He was a laird, a warrior. Not a Druid.

For long moments he stared into her brown depths. She had said she would give up the Druids, but had she really told him the truth? He ached to tell her of his feelings but the words tangled in his throat.

“I need you.”

“And I need you. I always will. Please remember that.”

He grabbed her hand as she started to leave. “I’ve lost everyone. I couldn’t stand to lose you as well.”

“I’ll always be here. Besides, you will have Ailsa and Iona returned to you. Of this I promise.”

He stood and turned her face up to his. “I need a promise from you. I want you to stay away from MacNeil. I will get Ailsa and Iona home, but I can’t if I’m concerned about you.”

“I can’t give you that promise. You need my help. Even if you won’t admit it.”

* * * * *

Aimery looked down at Moira and wished he could ease the pain within her. Despite the calm the stone brought the Druids there was restlessness in her that couldn’t be calmed. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. He inhaled deeply and looked around the stone circle and the Druids.

“The traitor is very near. He’s also powerful enough to cloak himself so even I cannot say who he is.”

Frang’s eyes widened. “A Druid?”

“Glenna said as much when she talked of the tattoo,” Moira said.

“I know. I just didn’t want to believe.” Frang leaned against a stone. “Few Druids have the power to shield themselves from the Fae. Not even I can manage it for an extended period of time.”

Aimery put his hand on Frang’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself. Besides, I’m not so sure it is a Druid. This man has done everything to cover his tracks. But he needs to be found soon. He’s already attempted to kill Glenna once. I’m afraid he’ll do so again.”

“What about Moira?” Frang asked.

Moira shook her head. “I’m safe. The traitor has had plenty of opportunities to kill me while in the circle. He hasn’t, which leads me to believe this has nothing to do with the prophecy.”

“Oh, but it does,” Aimery stated. “Either he doesn’t know you are Glenna’s sister, or he thinks Glenna is an easier target.”

Frang sighed. “Either way isn’t good.”

“I have many of the Fae already among you, and they shall stay until this is over.”

Aimery turned to Moira. “Make sure Glenna is prepared.”

“She’ll be prepared,” Moira stated.

Aimery smiled and nodded. Moira held the bulk of her power back, but there would come a time when she would unleash its full force and he would be sure to be there to see it. “I have faith in you.”

Moira’s eyes jerked behind him.

Aimery didn’t need to turn around to know Dartayous stood there. The warrior was the best among them, which was why Aimery kept him here. That and another reason, he thought with a smile as he looked at Moira. “Just in case the traitor does come after Moira I want Dartayous nearby.”

Moira’s eyes narrowed. “I can take care of myself.”

Aimery hid a smile and turned his head to see Dartayous’ brow raised in question. “True you can, but Dartayous knows what to look for. I need you to concentrate on Glenna. Let Dartayous look after you.”

He knew Moira wanted to object, but Frang had put his arm around her. For now she would accept Dartayous, and that’s all that mattered.

Chapter Twenty-One

The night had claimed the sun yet sleep would not claim Glenna. She had gone over every conversation she and Iona had had in their brief time together. In all the warnings Iona had said nothing about Glenna’s heart being ripped in two. Her heart ached with the decision she had to make, and she didn’t know how much longer she would have before Conall would demand an answer.

She almost laughed at the irony of falling in love with her kidnapper. From the very beginning she had trusted him with her life and just recently her heart.

But one question remained. Would he turn her over to MacNeil for his sister and daughter? He had said nay, but if it came down to it she wasn’t so sure. After all, he had made a vow to his mother, and everyone knew how Conall thought of a vow made.

There was only one thing she was sure of, and that was Conall wouldn’t kill MacNeil. Her heart knew it for fact, but she also knew it was folly to try to tell Conall. He was a laird, a warrior, and would never listen to a woman, much less a Druid.

And she was both.

Restlessness claimed her. She couldn’t look at her bed without thinking of Conall. A walk would soothe her body as well as her mind. It wasn’t until she stood on the cliff above the loch that she knew what had called her out of her chamber.

Conall.

He swam with strong, sure strokes, the water glistening off his body in the moonlight. He rose up and shook his head, sending water spraying everywhere.

She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. He raised his arms and smoothed the hair back from his chiseled face. His creased forehead showed he was tormented just as she was.

Her feet brought her to the edge of the loch. Her hands had never moved so fast in shedding her clothes. His head swiveled to her when she stepped into the water.

No words were spoken as she walked to him. Their need for the other suffused the air. He took hold of her when she was close enough and dragged her against his chest. Their bodies came together frantically, searching for comfort only they could give each other.

Their mouths collided frantically in an attempt to calm their racing blood. She couldn’t get enough of him, never did. His hands moved across her naked body as though he knew every inch of her.

She leaned back as his mouth trailed kisses down her stomach. The stars winked down at her in the cloudless sky, and the full moon surrounded them in its white light.

Conall gazed down at the woman in his arms, her dark hair spread across the water. Her eyes turned to him and he wondered at her thoughts. So much pain. Would there ever be a time when he could love her and not have to worry about MacNeil or the Druids?

“Don’t think,” she whispered. “Let us love each other and forget for a brief time the world around us.”

Right now he didn’t even care if she could read his mind. He wanted her with a need that only increased each time she was in his arms. The time would soon come when she would have to make a choice, but he already knew he couldn’t let her go. And that was the trouble.

He had taken her so he could get Iona, and now Ailsa, returned. But that would mean losing the woman who had his heart. A woman who had shown him how to have hope for the first time in many months, a woman who had let him dream of a family and love. What would that woman think of him if he turned her over to MacNeil?

But he knew the answer. She would hate him. Regardless of his vows, she would hate him. Though he had to wonder if Moira would allow her to be returned to MacNeil. If what she said was true, then they would do everything in their power to make sure Glenna was safe. In which case maybe he could maintain his honor and adhere to both vows.

Glenna twirled the water around with her hands, sending it dancing on her breasts. He didn’t let himself dwell anymore on dark thoughts as he leaned down and ran his tongue around a pert nipple.

He couldn’t wait for her. He needed her now, desperately or he would explode. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the water’s edge. There, he gently sat her down.

“Ah, you must be a Druid,” she said, and leaned over to kiss his neck.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you read my mind.”

With that, she wrapped her arms around his neck and lay back. He followed her and marveled at her soft body beneath his. The water lapped around them as he entered her.

It was over far too soon and, as they lay there, he thought he sensed Glenna pulling away from him. Though surely it was his imagination. He knew she felt strongly about him. Love hadn’t been mentioned, but he didn’t need the words to know stronger forces bound them.

But there were things that needed to be discussed. “The MacNeil will come soon.”

She sighed and ran a hand down his chest. “Couldn’t we pretend, just for a bit, that he didn’t exist?”

“My thoughts are centered on making sure you and the clan are safe while I get Ailsa and Iona back alive before I kill him.”

“I thought I was to be exchanged for them.”

She had said the one thing he hadn’t wanted to discuss. Now he didn’t have a choice. “I’ll kill him.”

“What if you can’t? What if the only way to see your daughter and sister alive again is to trade them for me?”

“There’s no need to even think those thoughts, Glenna. I told you I’d kill him.”

“It’s not your time to kill him. That’s what the prophecy is for.”

He leaned up on an elbow worried now. “You’ve seen this?”

“I don’t have to. I know until the prophecy is fulfilled the MacNeil will live.”

“That’s not acceptable.” He sat up and put his arms on his knees. “I will seek my revenge for what he’s done to my family.”

She leaned up. “And what about what he’s done to mine?”

“I will kill him. The prophecy means nothing to me.”

She looked away and rose to her feet. She roughly yanked on her clothes then turned back to him. “The prophecy means everything to you. You are part of it, and if you’d open your mind you’d remember just why it’s so important.”

Conall didn’t stop her as she strode away. His body ached with such sorrow as he had never experienced. Even now with his mate so near he was losing her.

Mayhap he had never had her, just thought he did.

* * * * *

Gregor watched Glenna and Conall from atop the north tower. If any two people were meant to be together it was them, but the MacNeil stood in the way.

For the first time since he had left his clan and become a mercenary, he thought about what he was doing. He had known when Conall saved his life that things were going to change. For the better or worse he knew not.

But change they had.

His thoughts turned to Iona. He had asked Effie repeatedly what she knew, but obtained nothing. Even when he had questioned a few guards at MacNeil’s he had found out little.

Now he had a decision to make. One that could destroy everything around him. He had prayed Conall’s power would detect him a liar and end everything right then, but it seemed as though Conall’s power had deserted him. That left him to make the decision on his own.

He reached inside his shirt and withdrew the medallion that hung around his neck. He ran his finger across the cross and Celtic pattern, his memories turned to his family. An owl’s screech broke into his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the feeling someone watched him. It wasn’t from any of Conall’s soldiers, though he knew Angus had kept a wary eye on him since he returned.

Nay, it was something else.

Though he knew Conall didn’t believe in the Druids, Gregor most certainly did. The very air around him seemed different here more than any place else. It was almost magical.

Magical? Now you really are turning into the man Father accused you of.

He started to turn away when a flash of white caught his attention. He
was
being watched. By Moira. In a blink she was gone. But it had him wondering. What could have the Druids watching him? Could they know what he was up to? It was a possibility, and one that he would have to plan for carefully.

* * * * *

Glenna’s feet flew across the earth as she ran to the nemeton. Blinded by tears, she allowed the magic to pull her as she pushed past tree limbs. She fell to her knees, hiccupping and wiping away her tears.

The moon broke through the clouds and its silvery rays lit the mound in an ethereal glow. Without the roaring fires and Druids, the nemeton was completely different from Beltaine. It was also vastly different from when she had come during the day and lain with Conall.

Memories of Conall telling her how to call forth the Faeries flitted through her mind. She stood on shaky legs and walked closer to the mound. An owl hooted near her and about scared her out of her skin.

She found him perched on a hawthorn tree. She found it rather odd the owl would choose such a shrubby tree with wicked thorns and dense tangle of growth. With a shake of her head to the owl she began to walk around the mound. What she expected to happen, she didn’t know, but by the time she had walked around nine times she would have been happy to have the owl hoot again.