Highland Pull (Highland Destiny 2)
Read Highland Pull (Highland Destiny 2) Online
Authors: Laura Harner,L.E. Harner
Highland Pull
Laura E. Harner
Highland Pull is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Laura Harner
Cover photograph by DWS Photography
Cover Art by Laura E. Harner
Edited by Jae Ashley
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Hot Corner Press
ISBN: 978-1-937252-16-8
Warning: All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any many without written permission, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Contact the publisher for further information
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To my readers.
You have made this first year as an indie published author a dream come true. Let’s find more worlds to explore together.
I would also like to offer a special thank you to Virgie Stickelmann. You have gone above and beyond, once again, my friend.
Tom Webb, Carol, Liz, Robyn, Danielle, Julie, Sadye, Gail, Lisa, Sonya, Kara, April, Diane, and all the others who have read Highland Pull, whether it was the original manuscript or isolated sections, you have all contributed, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
And as always, thank you Dan for helping to bring the image in my head to life through your photography.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:
Royal Sonesta: Sonesta International Hotels Corporation
Star Trek: Paramount Pictures Corporation
Moon Pie: Chattanooga Bakery, Inc.
Abita
Turbodog Ale: Abita Brewing Company
Macallan's
Whiskey: Macallan Distillers Limited
Albus
Dumbledore: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
Braveheart
: Paramount Pictures Corporation
Café du Monde:
Table of Contents
Rain falls hard on the bayou, harder than anywhere else in the world. The sound it made on the tin roof of the little shack was deafening. Marie checked all the symbols and even in the flickering candlelight, there was no mistaking the signs.
In her part of the world, magick spoke to her through voodoo. The spirits were not always clear, and could be fickle, but she was a powerful Priestess, the great granddaughter, and namesake, of the greatest Voodoo Queen of all New Orleans, Marie Laveau. It was her duty and honor to preside over the ceremonies and ritual dances for her community.
She earned money from the tourists, selling trinkets and meaningless amulets, but the locals, those in the know, those who needed real power, came to Marie. None in the Crescent City, none in the bayou, indeed none in all of Louisiana was more skilled in magick.
Especially black magick.
Marie checked the signs once more, still nothing changed. Two men were coming, one who was dark seeking light and one who was being consumed by darkness. Interesting.
These men had a different kind of magick, Druid magick. Their magick was ancient and like the Voodoo Queen, they were also bound to care for their people and the land. They drew power from nature, and some said they could manipulate the elements, possibly even shift space and time.
Marie knew Druids passed through New Orleans from time to time, but they were not awakened; they knew nothing of the power that slept deep within them.
The Druid knowledge of their ancestors had been stripped by someone or something far more powerful than any human magick. Their legends told that the Queen of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Fae, had stripped the Druids of their knowledge in a fit of petulant jealousy thousands of years ago.
Now the signs showed those ancient plans to disband the Druids were coming unraveled. No matter how many ways Marie looked, she encountered Darkness and Light. A light no matter how feeble is always stronger than the dark. However, darkness was powerful and it exerted a pull that could be hard to resist.
****
She sat alone in the dark listening to the rain pounding in the courtyard and spilling over the rims of the rain gutters that circled the roof. Rain made her feel lonely, but she didn’t know why. She didn’t know why she felt many things.
Two years ago, she had awakened in the middle of a life about which she knew nothing. She was a young woman of twenty-three, or so they told her. She didn’t remember her birthday. Or her address, or where she’d gone to school, or…well, anything. The people around her claimed to be her family, claimed to have always known her, and claimed to love her. To be honest, they seemed most sincere, and she suspected they believed it themselves.
The doctors had argued variously that she had some form of amnesia, severe depression, or multiple personality disorder. An MRI had confirmed there was no tumor. They’d given her
drugs, hypnotized her, and she’d had so much therapy, she had nothing left to say. Now one of the younger doctors wanted her to consent to electroshock treatment. She was not going to let that happen. It was time to start convincing them she was feeling better.
The problem was, this had happened to her before. She was almost certain of it.
The second time he killed was easier than the first. And although both times had been to save himself, he wondered…would the next one be easier still? The power of the darkness was getting harder to resist.
Gav looked down at the body on the bed. I’m in big trouble.
*
He sat at the bar waiting for her to arrive, staring into a glass of fine single malt whisky, and thinking over the mess that was his life. In the last few weeks, he had discovered he was a Druid with a raw and untrained power that others could sense. He’d attended an initiation ceremony for the Druid Order of the Etarlam to learn more about who and what he was. He’d watched with a horrified fascination as Martin Worthington, III, the man who’d recruited him, performed actual magick and summoned the wind. When tendrils of darkness had swirled around the room spreading cold and chaos, he’d gotten his first glimpse at just how out of his element he was.
The darkness had curled around Gav, sampled his power and intentions, then moved on, presumably to do the same to others in the room. The smoky tentacles passed over some and found others unworthy, constricting around them like a python, until they fell to the ground, dead. He hadn’t stayed to witness the end of the ceremony; instead, he’d helped two women escape before they’d been sacrificed as part of the ritual. He still didna know what had made him risk everything to help them. The three of them had little chance of escape and he understood he would be hunted and made to answer for his crime against the Etarlam. Yet, leaving the women behind and saving himself had never been an option.
The three of them had nearly made it to the door before the darkness found him again. This time when the tendrils wrapped around him it felt as if he were being caressed, tasted. Then it entered his soul and came with him as he had escaped.
Now his Druid senses were fully awakened, and Gav could feel the frequent subtle probes against his mind as Worthington continued to enflame the dark. The new Druid Master was calling him home and the blackness within rejoiced.
He sighed, as he thought about his other big problem. ‘Twas not just the dark he was fighting. He recognized another more familiar and unwelcome feeling. He was close to being lost again, to being changed. His memories of this part of his life went back exactly four years, nine months, and two days. He’d never been in one set of memories for more than five years. At least not that he could remember, he thought sardonically.
It was as though every five years he slipped into a new life. He didna know how many times he had been lost before, just that there were things he couldn't remember, circumstances around him would change, he was changed, and no one but he noticed.
Her musky perfume swirled around him, and he was suddenly aware she had been sitting there watching him brood for some time. He looked up and she gave him a seriously long look before her lips formed a slow seductive smile.
“Welcome back, Doctor,” she said, a laugh in her voice and a fresh drink for him in her hand.
“Doctor,” he replied, a smile in his voice that he knew wouldn’t reach his eyes. “Why not call me Gabhran or Gav?” he asked, pronouncing his name GAV-run. He eyed her appreciatively. Short white-blonde hair, light blue eyes, body draped in a clinging midnight blue dress that showed a lot of cleavage and whole lot of leg.
“Gabhran, I like the way that sounds, the way it slides over my tongue.” And then she used that tongue to taste the rim of her wine glass.
“And may I call you Brianna, Doctor Gibbs?”
Placing a small hand on his forearm, she said, “Mmm…I like the way my name rolls around your mouth, too. You will have to call my name often.”
“Are you always so blatantly provocative?” he asked.
Her laugh sparkled. “I don’t think I’ve felt the need to be, before. Drink up, let’s get to know each other a bit, Gabhran,” she purred, drawing out the syllables of his name.
They clinked glasses, and he tossed back his whisky, signaling the bartender for another. He had a head for his liquor, but if he was having a second drink, he should eat soon, and said so. Brianna handled his concern by ordering a tray of oysters as an appetizer, and then suggested they move to a more intimate snug in the bar, while they waited for their table.
She slid around right next to him, curled one leg up under her, and turned to face him. It gave him an excellent view of her cleavage. It would give his hand access to other, darker places, should he so desire. Shaking his head at his own sudden lust, he sipped his whisky and wondered what her game was.
“I’ve never tasted single malt before, do you mind?” she asked, reaching for his glass, before he could set it back down.
“Be my guest,” he laughed, holding his glass out to her.
Instead of taking the glass from him, she wrapped a hand around his and turned the glass until the last spot his mouth had touched was in front of her lips. She ran her tongue over the rim, licking the wet left behind by his lips, and he tilted the glass, pouring the whisky into her mouth. She held the amber liquid in her mouth, letting the heat between them build, before she swallowed.
Never shifting his steel blue eyes from hers, he returned the glass to his own mouth and repeated her gesture, licking the rim before tossing that drink back as well. The scent of her desire filled the air between them, and he was rock hard.
“Your oysters, ma’am.” The waiter interrupted the moment, setting the tray on the table between them. Gabhran thought the interruption fortuitous; he had a pretty good idea of where his hand would have gone next. He wasn’t even sure the oysters were still raw given the heat between them.
“Two more glasses of whisky,” he said a bit roughly.
“Right away, and your table in the dining room will be ready shortly, sir,” the waiter said before returning to the bar for the drinks.
“Do you like to watch?” Brianna asked, feigning innocence at the double meaning of her words. She picked up a shell and held it to her lips, then tossed the oyster back. She extended her long neck and he watched her throat work, his cock getting harder by the minute.
“I am not sure I have had the opportunity to watch before.” It had gotten much warmer in
the bar, and he reached discreetly under the table to readjust himself.
“Let me watch you,” she said in that husky voice of hers, raising an oyster to his lips. He opened his mouth, and she slid the oyster from its shell and let her fingers linger on his lips. The salty, slightly fishy, and decidedly slippery oyster passed over his tongue and slid down his throat.
“Your turn,” she said throatily, as she put her head back and waited for him to feed her. It was impossible not to imagine slipping something else down her throat, when he looked at her with her head tossed back. He used his fingers as she had, to slip the oyster from its shell and between her plump lips. His breath hissed, as she sucked his finger into her mouth, her tongue swirled around it, and her eyes locked on his, making promises.
He had never felt such an intense and mindless lust. There was fire in his blood, a sense of inevitability about what they would do. When the waiter returned with the drinks, Brianna asked him to cancel their dinner reservation, handed him a wad of cash, and told him to keep the change. Then she reached under the table and stroked him. His shaft strained to be free. “Finish your drink, Gabhran, let’s go to my place.”
Gav felt helpless to resist the desire. He realized how neatly he’d been set up. She’d obviously put something in the drink she had handed him and began her seduction while waiting for the drug or spell to take effect. She was a desirable woman, and it had been a long time since he had known physical pleasure. She would not have had to use drugs, even if he might have moved at a slower place.
His thoughts were foggy, when he was consciously aware of his actions at all. Brianna was predatory and he enjoyed every minute. The darkness within him enjoyed it even more. As soon as the door was closed behind them, she fell to her knees, freed his shaft, and took him right there. They moved to the bedroom next, clothes flew everywhere, and he entered her quickly,
their pace frenetic.
She put her hands up to the bedposts, grabbing the silk scarves already knotted there, silently offering her submission. The darkness within him was hungry and what she wanted was too easy. He flipped her roughly over on her stomach and covered her body with his. He stretched her arms, rearranged her silken restraints, and then bound her tightly. She strained and whimpered, complained the ties were too tight. The darkness within him roared its approval.
He left her then, to go find a drink, to explore her place. Her screams and curses from the bedroom enflamed him. He let the tension build. She’d thought to have a seductive, sexy kind of tying to the bed, but he’d scared her with his darkness. Something about the drugs she’d used had lowered all his defenses.
Trying to reestablish his ethical equilibrium, Gav returned to the bedroom, intending to release her before their final round of bed play. As he approached the bed he saw the tiny tattoo in the small of her back, a Z-shaped bar and a snake. It was the mark worn by members of the
Breslan Etarlam, Worthington’s Druid sect.
Brianna Gibbs is Druid.
The darkness roared, blood pounded in
Gav's ears, and he howled with a violent combination of rage and desire. Brianna responded to his anger, not with fear, but with an animal hunger. She pushed herself onto her knees, ass up in the air, arms taut with her hands still restrained in front of her and begged him to give it to her fast and hard.
He took her roughly then, offering no mercy. He knew he was hurting her, and he knew she wanted more. When he was spent, he withdrew from her, leaving her bound while he lay next to her. She
hadna found her release, and he didna care. She was whimpering, still pumping her hips against the mattress. He would take her once more before he left, withhold her pleasure until the very end.
He must have dozed, but when he awakened, she was still tied to the bed, face down, and her throat had been cut from ear to ear. She was not long dead.
A perfect set up, and he knew Worthington was behind it all.