Untamed Highlander

TWENTY-NINE

Dunmore jerked on the reins, making his horse skid to a stop. It had taken more time than he’d liked, but he’d found the man he’d been searching for. Peter was one of those men others trusted. Maybe it was his kind face or his mild manner, but people told Peter things, secret things.

In the past Peter had been willing to share that information with Dunmore. For a price. Everyone had a price, and Dunmore had found Peter’s easily enough.

If there was anyone who knew where more Druids were, it would be Peter.

Dunmore swung down from his mount and looked around. The wyrran were keeping themselves hidden, waiting for the time he would call for them. He faced the small, rundown cottage and lifted his lip in revulsion.

Peter had either been kicked out of his village, or he was trying to run from something. Dunmore chuckled to himself. Peter was most likely running from him, but it had done Peter little good.

The blacksmith at the village some twenty leagues away had given Dunmore the location. It had taken a few broken fingers and a broken nose, but Dunmore had gotten what he wanted.

“Peter, come out,” Dunmore called. “I know you’re in there. You doona want to make me come in for you.”

A moment later the door creaked open and Peter stuck his head out. His mousy brown hair was tangled and matted around his face. He was thin, more thin than usual, as if he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks. Months even.

“Dunmore?” Peter said, his voice low and his eyes scanning the area chaotically.

Dunmore put his hands on his hips. “What’s got you so afraid?”

“Some people in the village found out what I was tellin’ ye. They didna like it much and banished me.”

“And the coin I’d given you?”

Peter shrugged and opened the door wider. He didn’t step outside, but he straightened to his full height. “I lost it while I fought for my life.”

“I didna figure it would take people long to realize you weren’t the kindhearted man you pretended to be. What would they care that you told me about the Druids?”

Peter folded his arms over his chest and shivered. “I … I didna know until they told me.”

“Told you what?” Dunmore asked and took a menacing step toward Peter. Something was wrong, but he cared little of Peter’s trouble. All he wanted was answers so he could find a Druid and return it to Deirdre.

“At one time my village had been occupied by Druids,” Peter said softly. He wiped at his nose and blew out a deep breath. “They used to come often and heal the sick. They would assist the harvests to grow in bad years as well.”

“So?”

“The more I told ye where the Druids were, the fewer of them came. The sick stayed sick. Bad harvests didn’t grow. The village went from thriving to dying in a matter of decades.”

Dunmore laughed and dropped his hands. “Just what I wanted to hear. You were doing your duty, Peter. And were rewarded handsomely.”

Peter’s gaze dropped to the ground and he turned away. Dunmore was no fool. Something else had happened.

“I need the location of at least one Druid, Peter. I’ll take you with me as a reward this time. You can live in the mountain with us and rejoice in our victories. No more hunger, no more cold nights.”

Peter shook his head so vigorously that he nearly toppled over. “Nay. I cannot.”

“Cannot or will not?” Dunmore demanded. “You were willing before. So what if the village tossed you out? I will give you all that you dream.”

Peter stepped into his hut and slammed the door. “They’ll kill me,” he screamed through the wooden door. “The Druids saved me as a child from a fever that took me two brothers. They saved me, and I betrayed them.”

“What you doona want to do is betray me now, Peter.” Dunmore ground his teeth together. He’d have to beat more information out of someone today. Not that he minded. He had always found great pleasure is bringing others pain.

“Go away,” Peter yelled. “I willna tell ye anything else.”

Dunmore walked to the cottage. He kicked open the door and stepped over the threshold. He scanned the small hut with one glance. It reeked of urine and something rotting.

Peter was huddled in a corner shaking. Dunmore grabbed him by the collar and jerked him forward. Peter was tall but weighed nothing, so it was easy for Dunmore to haul him outside.

Dunmore tossed Peter to the ground and smiled when he heard Peter wince and curl onto his side. “I’m just beginning, Peter. You’ve seen me beat others to death before. Doona think I’ll spare you.”

“What ye’ll do to me is nothing compared to what the others will do.”

Dunmore was growing tired of this. “What others? The Druids? They’re running for their lives, Peter. They doona have time to worry of your stinking flesh.”

“Nay. They keep watch on me.”

Dunmore motioned with his hand to tell the wyrran to take a look around and bring back anyone they found. If there was someone out there the wyrran would find them. Until then, he’d get what he needed from Peter.

An hour later Peter was dead. Dunmore cursed and kicked him in the gut. Peter had been so malnourished that with the first punch Dunmore had broken his ribs. No matter what Dunmore did to him or promised him, Peter would tell him nothing.

Dunmore growled his annoyance. He would not fail Deirdre, not now, not when she needed him.

The wyrran returned, their big yellow eyes watching him soberly. They were empty-handed as well. Peter had been terrified for nothing. And Dunmore didn’t have a location on a Druid.

He grabbed the reins to his horse and jumped onto his back. He didn’t have time to waste. He’d return to all the places where he’d found Druids before. There had to be one foolish enough to think they were safe.

As Dunmore rode away with the wyrran behind him, he never saw the falcon that watched from high in the trees.

*

Hayden bristled as he watched Ian and Isla enter the great hall deep in conversation. Once again Isla said something to make Ian chuckle, which only angered Hayden all the more.

He had been the one to awaken Isla’s passion. He had been the first one to taste her decadent body. Yet she had never tried to make him smile.

You never gave her reason to.

Hayden growled, hating his conscience at that moment.

“If looks could kill,” Camdyn mumbled from beside him.

Hayden glanced at the Warrior. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

“It means exactly what he said,” Malcolm said.

Hayden glared at the only mortal man at MacLeod Castle. He respected Malcolm for putting his life on the line for their cause, but he didn’t like anyone poking their nose in his business.

Duncan smiled, clearly enjoying Hayden’s distress. “Are you envious of my brother, Hayden? I didna think you could get away from that drough fast enough.”

“She has a name,” Hayden ground out.

Duncan snorted derisively. “What do you care?”

Hayden stood as Ian walked to his brother’s side. Hayden knew he couldn’t sit across from Ian and not punch him. He could smell Isla’s snow and wild pansy scent on Ian, and it sent Hayden’s blood to boiling.

He strode from the great hall and didn’t look back. He’d eat later once the evening meal was over. Besides, someone needed to keep watch over the castle.

Hayden settled himself on the battlements near one of the crumbling merlons and tried to clear his thoughts. Fallon had taken most of the guards off rotating duty, and the castle was down to just a few. Isla’s shield allowed them to do things other than stand watch.

He gazed at the sky with its vibrant colors of orange and bronze and purple as the sun descended. Pinpricks of light began to show in the darkening sky as the moon awoke and took her place in the heavens.

It was Hayden’s favorite time of day. The world was going to sleep while a different world began to awaken. There was a moment between when the sun set and night took over where everything was gray and quiet.

It was usually a peaceful time, but once again all Hayden could think about was Isla and the turmoil that was now his life.

How he could want someone so fiercely who was everything he hated? It didn’t seem right that fate should give him something like this when he was doing everything he could to stop evil from taking over the world.

Maybe it was his punishment for killing so many droughs. He hadn’t murdered them, though. He had given them a fair chance at defeating him, and with their magic, many had nearly succeeded. But it was his need for vengeance that drove him onward.

How many years had he walked Scotland searching for droughs? He hadn’t ever stopped to wonder if they had families. All he had been concerned about was the evil inside them.

Looking back, he wondered if he’d done the right thing. What if he’d killed Isla on one of his many rampages? He’d never have known the feel of her lush body or enticing lips. His emotions wouldn’t be tied in knots right now either.

He turned and lifted his face to Isla’s tower. He’d see the light from her window whenever she lit the candle. He intended to have a few words with her.

If he hadn’t felt the obstruction of her hymen himself he’d think she’d been lying about being with other men. But he had pierced that barrier, had seen her blood with his own eyes.

You claimed her. She’s yours to do with as you please.

Hayden knew that wasn’t true, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to confront her, to lay claim to her body once more despite how wrong it was. He’d never had the need to take a woman regardless of the consequences, regardless of who she was. It alarmed him, but his hunger for her overshadowed everything else.

The castle door opened and drew his attention. He watched as Fallon, Lucan, and Quinn walked into the bailey. They stopped in the center and faced each other, their faces solemn and set.

“I’ll go hunting tomorrow,” Quinn said.

Fallon nodded. “Take Duncan with you. I think he may need a bit of time away.”

“I agree. His anger at what happened to Ian hasn’t diminished as I’d hoped it would. It’s only been a few days, but I’m worried.”

“Talk to him,” Lucan said. “Have Ian talk to him as well. The last thing we need is two Warriors on the edge.”

Fallon crossed his arms over his chest and shifted feet. “I agree that Hayden has always been a wee bit intense in battle, but we all are. Just because he became angry at Ian doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means a lot,” Quinn said, his voice sounding weary.

“Hayden’s problem is Isla. We all know that.” Lucan looked from Fallon to Quinn.

Fallon lifted a shoulder. “If Isla has her way, Hayden willna have a problem for long.”

“Ah, doona start,” Quinn said and ran a hand through his dark hair. “It’s all Marcail will talk about. She’s not happy we pledged to do as Isla asked. She thinks there has to be another way.”

“If there was another way, Isla would have found it,” Lucan pointed out.

Fallon held up a hand when Quinn began to speak. “You aren’t saying anything we didn’t say to Isla, Quinn. She asked for our pledge and we gave it. All we can do now is pray that Deirdre stays in her weakened state and that Logan and Galen find the artifact.”

“And that it somehow works to break Deirdre’s hold,” Quinn added.

Lucan sighed. “Aye. It’s no wonder Isla feels as if the odds are stacked against her. They are.”

“At least Ian is proving to be someone she can talk to,” Fallon said. “She needs someone she can lean on, even if she doesn’t realize that’s what she’s doing.”

“Marcail made a good choice.” Lucan smiled at his brothers.

Quinn turned back to the castle. “Speaking of my wife, she said Isla made more of those pastries. Marcail has a sweet tooth, it seems.”

Fallon slapped Quinn on the back as they started toward the castle steps. “You just want to make sure you have your share of pastries before Marcail eats them all.”

“I think she is going to give Galen a run for his money on the food around here,” Lucan said with a laugh before they entered the castle.

Hayden blew out a breath as his mind struggled to process all that he’d heard. Just what had Isla made the brothers promise? He feared he already knew what it was, and he’d be damned if he let anyone take her head.

It seemed an eternity before he saw the flicker of light from her window. Hayden didn’t hesitate to unleash his god and vault onto the side of the castle. He climbed his way up to the tower and stood in her window.

He paused, content to watch her without her notice. She looked miserable and exhausted. She looked lonely.

Hayden no longer concerned himself with the feelings that always arose when he saw Isla or thought of her. There was nothing he could do to stop them. He could try to act against them, but stopping them had proved futile.

She turned then and spotted him. “I’m not in the mood, Hayden. Please go away.”

He ignored her and jumped through the window. He landed softly. “What did you ask of the MacLeods?”

Isla rolled her eyes and began to unbraid her hair. “That’s none of your concern. Please leave.”

“Not until you tell me what I want to know.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time then.”

Irritation filled him. He’d asked a simple question. Why couldn’t she answer it? “You want them to kill you, don’t you?”

She lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “What difference does it make?”

“It makes a difference.”

Her gaze jerked to his, and she narrowed her eyes. “Is that so? It seems that I remember quite plainly how you said you couldn’t stand to be near me. In front of everyone in the hall. What I do with my life is no concern of yours.”

“Just tell me. Please.” He hated to beg, but the need to know exactly what she had asked of the MacLeods drove him.

“Oh,” she stormed and threw up her hands. “Fine, Hayden. Aye, I did make the MacLeods vow to take my head.”

“Why?”

“Would you rather be the one to kill me? I’m sure they won’t mind if you step in for them. You’ll know when Deirdre has control of me, so don’t hesitate to do your duty.”

“Stop!” he bellowed. He stared at her, his jaw clenched tight as he fought the fury inside him, fury at her for turning to the MacLeods. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Now tell me why, Isla.”

She blew out a breath and glared at him. “Because I don’t want to live like this anymore. When Deirdre does find me, my death needs to be quick before she can cause me to hurt anyone else.”

“You really want this?”

“Do I want to die? Nay, but neither do I want to live in constant fear of hurting the people who I call friends.”

That made Hayden remember Ian and what brought him to her to begin with. The thought that she now shared her bed with Ian soured his stomach. “I suppose that includes Ian.”

“It does,” she answered without hesitation.

“It didn’t take you long to replace me in your bed, did it?”

Her ice-blue eyes went wide with shock and then anger. She took two steps and slapped him hard across the face.

Hayden hadn’t predicted that. His cheek stung, and he knew if he looked in a mirror there would be an imprint of her hand. He jerked his head around to give her a piece of his mind when she raised her hand to hit him again.

He captured it before she could connect it to his face a second time. To his surprise she raised the other, which he easily caught. “Not a good idea, Isla,” he ground out as he pushed her back against the wall until she was trapped.

“You’re an arse, Hayden.”

“Maybe, but at least I give my lovers a day before moving someone else into my bed.”

“You know nothing. Nothing. You speculate and assume.”

“I know what I see.”

Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, anger coming off her in waves. Her beautiful ice-blue eyes were bitter and hard as she glared daggers at him.

He realized then just how close to her he was. He could feel her heat, her softness, and the passion coiled tightly within her.

And it was his undoing.

He tried to look anywhere but her eyes. It was only her fury that kept him from kissing her. He’d be damned if he’d make that mistake again and get caught up in her body, forgetting everyone and everything.