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  His eyes flew open. He looked around and his gaze locked on something across the room. The expression on his face wasn't one of comfort as might be expected since he was with his clan, his brothers and sisters in arms. It was a look of horror. Anna followed his gaze and saw Bree, who looked like she might pass out.

  Anna leaned closer and took Angus's hand. "Angus. It's OK." It wasn't OK. She knew that. But that's what you always said to someone who was dying to ease their panic. Fear tightened her throat, but she held Angus's bloody hand and blinked back her tears.

  He looked at Anna and tried to speak. "Her." He looked toward Bree again.

  "That's Bree. She's a friend. Faelan's friend."

  "But Druan..." Angus's eyes closed for a moment, and his breathing grew weaker. Then he looked at her again and squeezed her hand. "Must tell you."

  "Don't try to talk now. You need to save your strength."

  His expression softened behind the blood and pain. "I love you. Always have...Should have told you." His eyes closed and his hand went slack in hers.

  Angus died early the next morning while Anna was in the practice ring taking out her frustrations on Tomas, their medic. A dumb thing to do since Tomas had been caring for Angus. But Angus had improved during the night, and everyone had expected him to recover.

  With him resting, they'd all been anxious to see the Mighty Faelan in action.

  Anna moved numbly through the next few hours, her mind and body in shock. She kept her grief hidden. After her mother's death, Anna had learned to bottle up her feelings, so she put on her shell, just as a demon would, and acted calm when in reality she was shattering inside.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  They buried Angus in the clan graveyard under the branches of his favorite tree. It was the gnarled one he had always said looked like it was watching over the graveyard. Anna hated graveyards, but Angus had loved them, so she had come here with him many times, though it always made her feel sick inside. He'd chosen his burial spot himself, on a sunny day in June, but he had been laughing at the time. Neither of them could have known his death would come so soon.

  After everyone else had left, Anna sat by Angus's grave and cried. How was she going to survive without him? His curiosity, his teasing, his mysteries and adventures that had been part of her life for so long. She should have been there to help him. To hell with the demon and minions she'd been fighting. She could have killed them later. She picked up a handful of dirt and let it fall through her fingers, and found herself talking to his headstone. She told Angus about Faelan and Bree and the Book of Battles. "It's safe, Angus. Faelan's safe. You can rest." But she wouldn't rest until she found out what happened to him in New York. The demons that killed him were dead. Ronan had hunted them down while Anna was helping plan Angus's funeral. They had refused to tell Ronan who sent them. Everyone assumed it was Druan, but Anna needed to know exactly what Angus had discovered there.

  She sensed a presence and wiped her eyes. She didn't want to get caught crying. A glance around the graveyard told her no one had witnessed her breakdown, but she still felt someone watching. Leaves rustled in the tree above Angus's grave. Anna looked up and saw a white owl perched on a branch. How long had it been there?

  It was the damnedest thing, but as the owl stared at her she felt soothed. A few minutes later, the owl blinked and flew away. Anna felt a small measure of peace, as if Angus weren't lying cold and dead in the ground.

  She got up and dusted the dirt from his grave off her pants. She touched Angus's headstone one last time, looked at his name etched into the stone and fought back the lump of grief climbing up her throat. She couldn't give in to the pain now. She had work to do. The warriors were going to New York to hunt down Druan and destroy the bastard. Faelan would have to be the one to kill him, but Anna wanted to be there to watch Druan die. And when that was done, she was going to solve Angus's mystery and finish his quest. It was the only way she could repay her best friend for all the times he'd saved her. I won't forget you, Angus. I promise. I won't forget.

  ***

  Walter the Watcher's dream was most unusual that night, and that was not a small thing since most of his dreams were unusual, warnings and omens about the clan that he couldn't always cipher. There was a woman in this dream. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her. In fact, he almost felt as if he knew her because of the many times he had dreamed of her over the years. She was a stunning creature with long white hair and the greenest eyes. She wasn't alone. A man was with her. He also had white hair and green eyes, but he wasn't particularly handsome. He looked old and wise, a bit like Gandalf from Walter's favorite movie. Walter had seen him before as well. The man was gently scolding the woman for something she had done, an interference that broke the rules.

  "Do you realize what you've done?" he asked.

  The woman nodded. "I know I shouldn't have, but I felt so badly for him."

  The man turned a worried gaze upon her. "We mustn't lose sight of our duty. You can't forget the boundary between the warriors and us."

  She shrugged, and a look of defiance sparked in her eyes. "He deserved better."

  The man sighed. "It's done now. It can't be changed. We will deal with the consequences. Where is he?"

  "I left him sleeping. His injuries are still severe."

  The man frowned. "I just went to check on him. He wasn't in bed."

  The woman's eyes widened. "He's gone? But he isn't ready."

  "We must keep him hidden until we can sort things out."

  Walter's dream faded, or was it a vision, and he woke to a dark room. His candle had burnt out. Through the blackness, he heard breathing, unsteady and harsh. "Who's there?"

  "It's me," a voice whispered.

  It couldn't be. Walter reached for the candle by his bed. His fingers trembled as he struck the match. Light flared for a moment, illuminating a man in the doorway. Impossible. He held the match to the wick, and when it caught, he held the candle higher, staring in shock at the wounded warrior.

  ***

  He grasped the edges of the doorway, trying to stay on his feet. He had come to the Watcher because he didn't know where else to go. He was frightened and didn't understand what was happening to him. Wasn't sure if he was alive or dead. The Watcher could see him, so he must be alive. But Walter's look of horror, his shocked eyes round as an owl's, left him more scared and confused.

  "How can this be?" the Watcher asked. "You're dead."

  The End

  About the Author

  Photo by: Barbara Woodward

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Anita Clenney writes mysteries and paranormal romantic suspense novels, including the bestselling Connor Clan series. Clenney grew up an avid reader, devouring Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books before moving on to mysteries and romance. It was only after several successful but wildly different careers—including work as an executive assistant, a real estate agent, a teacher's assistant, and a brief stint in a pickle factory—that Anita discovered her untapped passion for writing. She lives with her husband and two children in suburban Virginia. You can learn more about her writing at www.anitaclenney.com

  FUN FACTS

  - She once lived in a tree house.

  - Stopped to rescue an unconscious chipmunk once, only to have him miraculously revive in my car and go into escape mode.

  - Has been in love for as long as she can remember. It all started with Donny Osmond.

  - Is a hopeless shopaholic (forget tennis elbow, she's discovered shopper's elbow).

  - Has over 29 mirrors in her house. Not because she wants to see herself, but because she uses them as artwork.

  - Favorite outfit: jeans and a t-shirt. And diamonds. Always diamonds.

  Also by Anita Clenney

  Highland Warrior series

  Awaken the Highland Warrior

  Embrace the Highland Warrior

  Heart of a Highland Warrior

  Faelan: A Highland Warrior Brief

  An
gus: A Highland Warrior Brief

  Jamie: A Highland Warrior Brief

  The Relic Seekers series

  Guardians of Stone

  Fountain of Secrets

  COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ANGUS: A Highland Warrior Brief

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2014 by Anita Clenney

  www.anitaclenney.com

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book. For more information, please direct your correspondence to:

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  Publishing History: First Edition

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