Midnight's Kiss (32 page)

He was protecting Ronnie.

They had no idea that she was his very existence, his everything. He would give up his own life if it meant Ronnie would be safe.

And a Warrior who loved was a Warrior on a mission.

Dale growled long and low, which brought a smile to Arran’s face. The Warrior was still angry over being defeated in Edinburgh.

“Best get used to it, lad,” Arran said. “You’re about to be beaten again.”

“Never,” Dale stated.

“You’ve no idea what you’ve walked into. Be smart. Leave.”

“Are we going to talk all night or fight?” Dale asked, his lip turned up in a sneer.

Arran had killed enough to last an eternity. He was tired of killing, especially Warriors. These Warriors were different from those Deirdre had unbound. These Warriors had control of their gods, and had they been with the MacLeods, they would be serving on the side of good.

But they were serving dark forces. Nothing and no one could change them from that course. It was there in their eyes, in the way they looked at Ronnie’s tent.

If Arran was going to keep Ronnie from harm, he would have to kill these Warriors. And as many as kept coming for her.

Arran spread his arms wide as he drew air into his lungs. Memphaea bellowed with pleasure at the idea of a battle—as well as protecting Ronnie. And in his mind, Memphaea was showing Arran ways to hurt his enemy.

He wasn’t the god of malice for nothing.

Dale leaned his head back and let out a loud roar. Soon the other three Warriors did the same, and Arran simply waited. His enemy thought he’d come alone. They thought they could get rid of him and have all they’d come for.

How wrong they were.

And then Arran felt a tingle of magic, nasty and vile.
Droughs
.

So the Warriors hadn’t come alone either. The question was, did Fallon and the others sense the
droughs
? Could they detect the dark magic from the other magic of the area? Arran prayed they could, or things could turn in favor of his enemies.

“Never,” he whispered as he heard Andy use the bullhorn once, twice urging everyone to run.

Arran’s arms slowly lowered to his side. He bent his legs, ready to spring. His chin tilted lower so that he could watch the four Warriors more clearly.

Suddenly, Dale’s roar cut off and he jumped forward, his claws extended as he came at Arran. Arran spun to the side and extended his claws so that they raked across Dale’s back when he landed.

Dale growled and snapped his fangs. Arran enjoyed the feel of blood on his claws. He wanted more of it, needed more of it.

Craved it like never before.

Something cracked inside Arran, something he’d kept locked deep inside. But Ronnie had found it somehow. No matter what he had to do—or become—Arran wouldn’t hesitate.

For her.

Dale circled him as the other three Warriors came closer. Arran didn’t move. He watched Dale with his eyes, tracking him as the Warrior drew closer and closer.

Arran didn’t utter a sound when Dale’s claws scoured his back from shoulder to waist. He didn’t move when Dale sank his claws into Arran’s side.

Dale was close enough that Arran turned his head to him and watched his brow furrow with confusion.

“There’s nothing you can do to me that will stop me from killing you,” Arran said.

“We can take your head,” said one of the other three.

Arran kept his gaze locked with Dale’s. But he sensed when another Warrior decided to attack. Arran ducked and spun toward the approaching Warrior.

He straightened, and both his claws plunged deep in the Warrior’s stomach. He jerked his claws up, satisfaction filling him when he heard the Warrior gurgle with pain.

“I could kill you now,” Arran whispered. “I could take your head with one swipe of my claws.”

The Warrior laughed as blood fell from his lips. “We’re no’ alone, fool.”

Arran pulled out his claws, reared back his hand, and effortlessly took the Warrior’s head. The body fell at his feet, and he slowly turned his gaze to look at Dale.

Arran prayed the Warriors stayed tuned to what he’d just done and didn’t realize that Andy was getting everyone out of the dig site.

He swore silently when one of the Warriors lifted his head and growled.

“The people are leaving!” he shouted.

Dale’s nostrils flared in anger as he glared at Arran. “A nice diversion.”

“I’ve had centuries of practice,” Arran said.

Another Warrior took a step toward Arran. “Let’s dance, you bastard.”

Arran had brawn and years of fighting with swords on his side, but this Warrior was quick and agile. He moved with lightning speed and used his feet and legs more than his claws. Arran had seen enough movies to know the Warrior was using martial arts. But the moves wouldn’t save him.

He let the Warrior believe he was making headway and defeating him. Arran continued to move away from him, but always kept near Ronnie’s tent.

Of a sudden, the Warrior let out a yell and leapt into the air. Arran saw Dale begin to head to Ronnie’s tent and went to stop him, so he never saw the attacking Warrior’s claws coming.

Arran grunted as the claws sank into the top of his shoulder near his neck. The Warrior then wrapped his legs around Arran and jerked back, sending both of them to the ground.

He elbowed the Warrior twice in the face and heard bone crunch. Yet he never took his gaze off Dale. Just before Dale reached Ronnie’s tent, Charon came around it and grinned.

“My turn,” Charon said.

Arran roared as the Warrior twisted his claws into the wound, sending more blood gushing down his body. The Warrior’s other hand hooked onto Arran’s face, and his claws tore open Arran’s cheek, nearly getting his eye.

The dig site become a place of chaos and panic. People screamed as Andy desperately tried to get them to safety, though Andy himself wasn’t the calmest of the bunch. The Warriors of MacLeod Castle had begun to show themselves, but a few stayed hidden.

Arran was satisfied that Dale wouldn’t get to Ronnie, thanks to Charon. And when Arran rolled to his stomach, the damned Warrior remained on his back. When he got to his hands and knees, he saw that Phelan had the third Warrior locked in battle.

It took great effort for Arran to get to his feet while the Warrior continued to slice open his face as he tried to get to Arran’s eyes.

Arran’s shout of rage surpassed that of Memphaea inside him. Arran reached behind him and stabbed his claws into the Warrior’s sides.

He continued to slash and stab over and over as he weakened the Warrior. Madness took him. He saw nothing and no one but the Warrior he fought.

He liked the feel of battle, wanted the smell of death. It went beyond craving to
need
.

They were after Ronnie—his Ronnie. He had to keep her safe. It was the only thought that kept running through his mind.

It took Arran a moment to realize he had not only gotten the Warrior off his back, but had him pinned to the ground. He blinked when his claws struck bone. Only then did he see he had completely gutted the Warrior, who even now lay gasping for breath.

Arran threw back his head and roared his pleasure and anger at losing such control. Never in all his years had he done so, but he didn’t regret letting loose. Not when it was for his Ronnie.

He looked at the Warrior, and then leaned close to him. “I told you you’d never get her.”

The Warrior sneered, and it was all it took for Arran to sever his head from his body.

Arran climbed to his feet and ripped off his tattered shirt, which hung on his body by threads. He blinked the blood out of his eyes and looked around to find that Charon and Phelan had subdued the other Warriors and were watching Arran cautiously.

They weren’t the only ones. Fallon, Quinn, Hayden, Ian, and Camdyn looked at him as if they didn’t know him. The only one who seemed to understand was Malcolm, who simply gave a nod.

Arran turned to walk away, and then stopped dead in his tracks when his gaze locked on Ronnie. Her hazel eyes were wide, her lips parted in dismay.

He took a step toward her only to have her take a step back. He’d let loose something terrible inside him to save her, but he’d lost her forever in the process.

Whatever chance he might have had to win her back vanished as she’d watched him kill the Warrior. All he could do was watch her walk away.

“Larena is with her,” Fallon said as he came to stand beside Arran.

Arran inhaled and walked to where Charon held Dale. “Why did you come for Ronnie?”

“I doona know. I simply follow orders.”

“My arse,” Arran barked. “You thought four of you could come and take her?”

That’s when Dale grinned and then began to laugh. As Dale’s laughter echoed around the site, Arran looked at Charon to see him frown.

And then all hell broke loose.

Black magic ripped through the site, slicing the caravans in half and crumbling tents. Arran drew his arm back to take Dale’s head when a blast of
drough
magic tossed him several feet away.

The magic pounded against him, causing his god to scream in pain and fury. Arran grabbed his head with both hands. It took him three tries before he was able to get to his feet.

He looked up to find his friends all in the same kind of pain. Dale and the other Warrior were gone.

Arran winced as his god grew louder, but he pushed the screaming aside as he searched for Ronnie. It was a feat in itself that he was on his feet from the
drough
magic directed at them. If they were hurting, it was most likely affecting Larena as well. Which meant Ronnie was in danger.

He tried to walk, but only fell to the ground again. Arran gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his hands and knees. He thought of Ronnie’s smile, of her hazel eyes that looked at the world unlike anyone he’d ever known.

He thought of her soft touch, her kisses, her welcoming embrace. He thought of her laughter, her … love.

And he got to his feet with a growl.

Arran took a small step, and then another. He kept going in the direction he’d seen Ronnie leave. He had no idea how many
droughs
were there, and it didn’t matter. He had to find them and kill them, or Ronnie would be in the hands of evil.

Lightning streaked across the sky, and for just a moment, the
drough
magic ceased. Arran looked over to find Malcolm with his arm raised to the sky and lightning forking from his fingers.

In those few seconds, Arran was able to see most everyone had gotten away from the site. He could see them running away. But he was also able to see five
droughs
as they stood around the site in a large circle.

Malcolm sent another round of lightning, this time directed at the
droughs
. They used their magic to counter his attack, but in doing so, it freed Arran and the others from their magic.

Hayden threw a ball of fire at one
drough,
while Lucan called the darkness around him and faded into shadows. A moment later, and he had killed one of the
droughs
.

Malcolm had given them the opportunity to turn the tide. The
droughs
now had to protect themselves in order to stay alive.

Arran left the
droughs
to his brethren and concentrated on Ronnie’s magic. He found her almost instantly, but the fear mixed into her magic sent him into a rage.

He used his speed and raced after her. Dale was nowhere to be seen, but the Warrior who held Ronnie never saw Arran coming.

Arran wrapped an arm around the Warrior’s neck and yanked him away from Ronnie and to the ground. Just as Arran was about to take his head, a hand locked around his wrist, halting him.

He looked up to find Phelan beside him.

“We need him,” Phelan said.

Arran couldn’t get the sight of the Warrior holding Ronnie out of his head, couldn’t forget the fear in her magic.

“We’ll gain more by sparing him. For now,” Phelan added.

Arran peeled back his lips and growled at the Warrior on the ground. “I’m going to kill you for touching her.”

The Warrior simply laughed in response. Then his head jerked to the side as if he’d been punched, and he fell unconscious.

“I was sick of hearing him,” Larena’s disembodied voice said from Arran’s other side. “Take him to Fallon. I’ll keep watch over Ronnie.”

Phelan released Arran and lifted the Warrior so that he draped over his shoulder. With a nod, Phelan made his way to Fallon.

Arran looked to Ronnie, but her gaze was focused on her arm, where she held a hand over a cut that bled viciously.

“Go, Arran,” Larena said. “I’ll take care of her.”

Arran didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t know what to say to Ronnie. What could he say? He swallowed and turned to follow Phelan. Each step he took from Ronnie was like a little piece of him dying.

Whatever had begun to grow in him with meeting Ronnie was dying a swift death. And he wanted to follow it. The world would be a gray, lonely place without Ronnie by his side.

He was about halfway back to the site when he felt a wave of
drough
magic. Arran spun to find the Druid, but before he could get to her, a gust of wind whirled around the Druid and tossed her into the air.

Gwynn let out a laugh as she stood in the tall grass about twenty paces from him. “Damn. That felt good. Don’t tell Logan, though. He’s protective enough that he’ll get mad knowing I endangered myself.”

Arran nodded in understanding. “You shouldna have gotten so far from Logan. Anything could happen to you out here.”

“Arran, please. Y’all keep forgetting that I can hear the wind. It alerts me when danger is near. I’m safer than any of y’all.”

“Come on,” he said as he took her arm. He might have lost his woman, but Logan wouldn’t lose his. “I’m taking you to your husband.”

*   *   *

Aisley lay as still as stone on her stomach in the grass as Arran walked right past her. Dale lay on top of her, urging her to keep quiet and still.

He was the one who found her after the first lightning strike and pulled her to the ground, effectively cutting off her spell to halt the other Warriors.