Awaken the Highland Warrior Page 15

  His arm throbbed as he dropped over the iron fence. He sniffed. No demons close by, and no dogs, he hoped. It wasn’t likely. Demons hated animals. An animal could sense a demonic presence long before a human could. Faelan headed toward the north side of the castle, keeping to the shadows. A man with long, raven hair appeared near a narrow door. Faelan jumped behind a tree, his hand on his dirk. The man’s movements were graceful, almost elegant, but powerful. He was too far away to scent for demon blood, but he wasn’t someone Faelan wanted to meet until his strength returned.

  Faelan glanced over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been spotted. When he turned around again, the man had disappeared.

  ***

  Tristol perched on a branch high in the tree and watched as the warrior dropped and ran the few remaining feet to the castle. He tried the side door, and when it wouldn’t open, he stepped back, surveying the second-story balcony far above his head. He tested a thick vine, seemed satisfied, and began to climb. Muscles bulged as the warrior inched his way up the wall. He’d just reached the top when his dagger caught on the vine. He tugged it free, and the vine started to pull away. Leaping, the warrior grasped the edge of the balcony, dangled for a moment, then threw his legs over and stood.

  Impressive.

  He peered over the side and quickly turned away.

  Tristol smirked. So the Mighty Faelan didn’t like heights, but he had strength and power. If it matched his reputation, he might be worth more than a way to eliminate Druan. He would have to bide his time and wait. Not only the fate of the living depended on the outcome of this fight.

  ***

  Faelan leaned against the cold stone and touched his burning arm. He hated heights.

  A chill worked up his spine. He glanced over his shoulder, then tested the small door to his left. It was locked. Next to it was a small, dark window. This would be a bedroom in his clan’s castle. He pushed against the glass, and it moved enough to get his head and injured arm through. He pushed hard, and his right shoulder scraped through, followed by his hips and legs. The room was dark. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, using the faint light to get his bearings. He was dismayed that the room looked just as he’d expected.

  He opened the door and peered into the dimly lit hallway. The sight was disturbing. The second floor was a replica of Connor Castle. A staircase stood at the end of the wide hallway, like the one he and his brothers had played on. He heard voices approaching and ducked back inside the room, leaving the door cracked so he could hear.

  “If Druan doesn’t find the key and the time vault soon, there won’t be any of us left.”

  “You’d think he would’ve guarded it.”

  The other voice shushed. “Don’t say that. If one of those half-demons hears, it’ll tell, and Druan will do to you what he did to Onca for losing the key. You know Druan’s been on edge, always looking over his shoulder. Can’t say I blame him. Lately, this place feels like it has eyes.”

  “You’re working for demons, and you’re worried about ghosts?”

  “You know what I mean. You almost jumped out of your skin when that ugly demon woke us this morning. Sometimes I wish we’d never…” the voices faded, and Faelan moved into the hallway, trying to listen. There was no doubt this was Druan’s castle. Faelan was so busy examining the similarities of this castle to the one he’d called home that he didn’t notice the white-haired old man until it was too late. The man—at least he looked like a man—ambled by, his head buried in a book, talking to himself. Faelan’s hand went to his dirk. He’d have to kill the man quietly, so he didn’t raise an alarm. The old man looked up, nodded, and continued toward the stairs, paying Faelan no mind, as if he belonged here. Like a bloody demon.

  If Druan was still looking for the vault and the key, then he didn’t know Faelan was awake. Not surprising that Grog would be too scared to tell him. Faelan moved to the third floor. It was dark—no lights in the hall. He didn’t need the glow from his cell phone to find the last set of stairs, exactly the same as Connor Castle’s, small and winding, barely wide enough for a man’s shoulders. At the top was a small iron door. In Scotland, Alana had used the room to store her paint supplies.

  “Bree?” he whispered.

  “Faelan?” Her voice came back small and frightened. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, and then tie her to a chair. Or a bed. “Hurry, please.”

  Faelan tried the door. It wasn’t locked, but it wouldn’t move. “Stand back.” He put his shoulder to the metal and pushed, feeling a rush of fresh blood. He pushed again, but it wouldn’t move. Odd, it wasn’t locked. Kicking it in would make too much noise. “Stand back.”

  He put his shoulder to the iron and pushed. It opened enough for Bree to squeeze her body through. She rushed into his arms. “Are you okay?”

  “I thought… just get me out of here.” She looked over her shoulder. “There’s something inside. I heard it move.”

  If one of Druan’s horde was in there, Bree would be dead. Faelan gave it a quick look from the doorway, but even with his heightened senses, it was too dark to see much of the room. He didn’t hear any breathing besides hers and his own. If there was something inside, it wasn’t alive. “We have to leave before we’re discovered.”

  “There are secret passages, but I don’t know if they lead outside. I came in through a pantry off the kitchen. I can show you.”

  “I don’t think I’ll have any trouble finding it.” He could walk it blindfolded. With one hand on his talisman and the other holding his dirk, Faelan led the way to the dark kitchen.

  “I came in through there.” She pointed to the pantry, and her hand hit a bowl, sending it crashing to the floor. “Darn it.”

  He pushed her inside the small room as the lights came on.

  “What was that?” a man asked.

  “There’s a bowl on the floor,” the second man said.

  “I can see that. It didn’t just leap off the counter.”

  It was the two from before.

  “No one’s supposed to be over here, but I’ve had this feeling all day, like someone’s watching me. You ever get that feeling?”

  “In this place, I do. Check it out.”

  Faelan pressed Bree against the wall, as he’d done last night. He could feel her heart pounding against his… as he had last night. He couldn’t be thinking about that now.

  “You check it out. I don’t take orders from you.”

  “Come on. There’s nothing here,” the first man said. “This whole plan is hopeless.”

  “If you don’t stop talking like that, you’re gonna be hanging up there with Onca.” The voices faded away, and Faelan felt Bree exhale.

  They moved outside and across the castle grounds as fast as they could, keeping to the shadows and hiding behind trees. When they reached the wall, he offered his hands to lift her up. She hesitated a second before pulling her skirt up to her hips. Hunger hit him hard, but he pushed it aside and concentrated on getting her over the top. Climbing the wall himself wasn’t easy, with his arm screaming in pain and his thoughts locked on her thighs.

  “How’d you get here so fast?” she asked once they were in the car.

  “I saw the paper on the counter. I thought someone had taken you. Or you’d done something… reckless.”

  “I was so sure they had you,” she said, starting the car. “I knew the police wouldn’t believe me, and if they did show up, Druan would kill you and them too. Then I’d have to find your family and tell them they’d lost you, even before they knew you were alive.”

  “What kind of woman goes around invading a demon’s castle?” An invisible one. How’d she even find it? What had happened to the meek, gentle women of his time? She was bold, with a temper to match, and with too much curiosity for anyone’s health. He felt a surge of something, but didn’t dwell on it. He was afraid it might be respect. He’d done unforgivable things to her; still, she’d put her life on the line because she thought he was in trouble. And she�
�d climbed over that fence like a warrior. Most women he’d known would have expected a man to carry them across. ’Course they wouldn’t have broken into the demon’s castle in the first place.

  “Don’t yell at me. I was trying to help.”

  “I’m not yelling.”

  “You look like you want to. Besides, you thought the same thing. Weren’t you coming to rescue me?”

  “I’m a warrior.” Not a damsel in distress. “I was fighting demons before you were born.”

  “A warrior who just slept for one hundred fifty-one years and would’ve slept for eternity if a woman hadn’t interfered.” She looked across the road and shivered. “Let’s say we’re even and get out of here,” she said, putting the car in gear.

  “What do you see there?” Faelan asked, nodding toward the empty field and trees hiding the castle.

  She frowned. “A castle. Big iron fence.”

  Damnation. How could she see it when he couldn’t?

  “Why?” she asked, pulling out so fast he had to pry his head from the headrest.

  “No reason.” He checked his bandage. The fresh blood hadn’t reached his sleeve.

  “I thought you would’ve healed by now.”

  “I reopened the wound earlier.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess climbing over that wall twice didn’t do it any good. Sometimes I do things without thinking.”

  That went without saying.

  “We have another problem,” she said. “It gets worse.”

  He didn’t see how. The demon was living in a replica of Connor Castle that was invisible to Faelan but visible to Bree? And now there was a time vault hidden under her chapel, and he had no idea if Druan had been reassigned.

  “Russell is the demon.”

  “I beg your pardon?” He must have misheard.

  “Russell’s the demon. I saw him in the castle.” Her voice was strained, her fingers tight on the steering wheel.

  “You’ve been under stress. The mind can play tricks when one is frightened—”

  “No. It was him.”

  Faelan’s insides knotted. It couldn’t be Russell. “What does he look like?” Demons rarely switched human forms. It took too long to get comfortable.

  “Tall, muscular, dark blond hair, blue eyes. Handsome. Dresses well.”

  Like Jeremiah. Damnation. Bree and Druan? His stomach knotted. There had to be another explanation. “Does Russell have any distinguishing marks?”

  “Not that can be seen with clothes…” Bree trailed off, looking embarrassed.

  A growl rolled from Faelan’s throat. He’d seen Druan without human skin, but never without clothes, and it irritated him knowing Bree had. How many other men had she seen naked? “Do you have a photograph of him?”

  “I think I burned them all. I can’t believe that I… that he… but he was standing right there. It was him. Remember, I thought I saw him in town. I think he’s been watching me.”

  “Maybe he followed you to the castle.”

  “No. He didn’t even see me there. He was talking to an old man.”

  Faelan’s knots twisted and formed new knots. Russell, the bastard who’d made Bree cry, was Druan. “How close were you?”

  “We were engaged. Betrothed.”

  “You were going to marry him?” Faelan’s knots grew claws.

  “The whole thing must have been a setup. He used me to get to the time vault.”

  That would explain why Grog told the halfling not to hurt her. Druan still needed access to the place, since he didn’t know Faelan was awake. Faelan rubbed his hand over his face. A demon of old had tried to marry Bree to get to him. Faelan knew he would have to ask her some brutal questions, but not now. “How did you meet him?”

  “In college. We were both majoring in history. We dated a few times, then I moved to Florida. About a year and a half ago, I was visiting Grandma, and I stopped by this antique store. I reached for a book at the same time he did. We laughed about what a coincidence—”

  “Coincidences rarely are.”

  She gave him a startled glance, likely thinking how they were drowning in the damned things.

  “He invited me to dinner in his tiny apartment in Albany. The jackass probably had a castle the whole time.”

  “They’re all infatuated with castles, every last one of them.”

  “One thing led to another, and we got engaged. He moved to Florida to be with me, but after a few months I saw another side of him, not so handsome. Demonic bastard.”

  The tremble was in her voice again, and it made Faelan want to kill Russell, whether he was Druan or not. “What did he do?”

  “He started hanging out with weird people. They’d call the house late at night, and he’d go off for days without any word. He was like a stranger when he got back, hateful and jealous, like a shell of himself. I know he stole money my dad left me. And there were other things.” Her lips thinned.

  “Why didn’t you leave?”

  “I kept making excuses for him. Then one day… one day when he was out doing whatever it was that he did, I packed and went to Grandma’s, and I got a restraining order, a legal document that says he has to stay away. Fat lot of good it did against a demon. As soon as I left, he started begging for another chance. I guess he was desperate to find you.”

  “Did he hurt you?” He’d asked the question before, but he suspected he hadn’t gotten the correct answer.

  She met his gaze then looked away. “Once.” Her chin tilted. “Only once.”

  “What did he do?” he asked, dreading her answer.

  “He hit me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s embarrassing that I stayed long enough to let him.”

  “He’ll pay,” Faelan said. “I’ll make him pay.” But he had to find him to kill him, and if Druan had been reassigned, Faelan would die too. “Did anyone see you in the castle?”

  “I don’t think so. Where were you when I came home earlier?”

  “I went for a run to clear my head.”

  “Did it?” She cast a sideways glance at him.

  “Up until an hour ago.” He wouldn’t mention the time vault in the cellar or that the castle was invisible to him, until he could sort it out.

  “None of this would’ve happened if you’d taken the cell phone with you.”

  None of this would’ve happened if she’d taken a minute to think things through instead of leaping to conclusions. The woman was a magnet for danger.

  He saw a quick movement in the side mirror. He spun around and looked out the back window.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Something’s back there.”

  “Behind us?”

  “In the air.”

  “A bird?”

  “Bigger.”

  “Can demons fly?”

  “Not that I know. They can choose an animal form, but I’ve never seen one as a bird.”

  “I saw two huge vultures at the castle. We’d better move faster, just in case.” For ten minutes she drove like a horse running from flies.

  “I think we’d be safer back at the castle fighting demons.”

  “You’re not used to riding in a car. After Janie’s boyfriend gets you a driver’s license, I’ll give you some lessons. You can practice in the driveway until you get the hang of it.”

  A woman giving him lessons, like a bairn learning to walk. A man didn’t need a license to ride a horse. Then again, horses didn’t have that rumbling sound that gave him chill bumps. “You need a GPS,” he said, after she’d taken so many turns he figured they must be lost.

  Bree frowned at him. “You’re from 1860. What could you possibly know about GPS?”

  “I saw it on a commercial. We’ll have to find somewhere to stay.”

  “I guess it’s not safe to go back to the house.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “There’s a hotel up ahead.”

  “And food?” His stomach rumbled. “You must be hungry.�
�� He hadn’t eaten in two whole hours.

  “We’ll hit a McDonald’s.”

  He started to ask what the MacDonalds were doing in America and what they had to do with food, when she pulled up to a store with that name. She ordered food at a talking sign, then went to a little window and gave a plastic card to a lad with tattoos covering his arms from the wrist up. The next window slid open, and a lass with metal wires on her teeth smiled and handed Bree a bag of food. It was remarkable, but distressing. He didn’t belong here, but he couldn’t go back. Did he belong anywhere?

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t keep living like this. I had to take money from your kitchen drawer to get a taxi.”

  “You’ve got a demon to kill and a world to save,” she said quietly. “You’ll feel better after you find your family. It’ll be proof you exist. You can figure out money and all the other stuff later. You could always write a book. You could keep the clan stuff secret and write about the people of that time. Better yet, write a novel about your battles. Nobody would believe it, and they’d probably make a movie of it. You’d be rich.” She looked him over, head to feet. “You could always model. They’d probably pay double if you wore the kilt.”

  “Model?”

  “Pose.”

  “Pose? Doing what?”

  “Just stand there, smile, look good holding some product.”

  “You mean people in this time will pay a person to just stand and smile? That’s daft.”

  “It’s complicated. Do warriors get paid?”

  “We live modestly, but our needs are met. The clan has someone who handles those things.”

  “I’ll cover your expenses for now, and you can pay me back.” She took a drink of her soda. “You could always work with horses. I don’t imagine they’ve changed.”

  “Horses.” He gave her a quick look. “I know horses.” He was good with horses. He picked up his food, took a bite, and almost moaned. “What is this?”

  “A Big Mac. Welcome to fast food.” While he downed two Big Macs, a large order of french fries, and a vanilla milkshake, Bree made some phone calls and found lodging. Seemed there was a conference in the area that had all the hotels full. “It’s an old bed and breakfast,” she whispered, covering the phone. “This should make you feel right at home.”