Midnight's Warrior (15 page)

Tara shuddered, waiting for his mouth on her lips. But that wait stretched on and on. She lifted her head to find Ramsey staring at the door with narrowed eyes.

“We’ve got company,” he whispered.

In a blink he had her on her feet as he smoothly rose. Tara grabbed her bra and sweater and rushed into the bedroom as a knock sounded on the door.

She closed the bedroom door and hurried to get dressed while wondering if she’d ever get used to Ramsey’s enhanced senses.

The male voice she heard on the other side of the bedroom door was not one she recognized. She put her hand on the doorknob, but hesitated.

“It’s all right, Tara,” Ramsey called. “Come on out.”

She pulled the door open to find a man with cropped dark brown hair and deep green eyes smiling at her. He wore a red sweater and jeans, but he held himself as if he were used to being in charge. He was handsome in his own right, but in her mind he couldn’t compare to Ramsey.

“Tara Kincaid, this is Fallon MacLeod, my leader.”

“Your friend,” Fallon corrected with a glance at Ramsey. Fallon then held out his hand to Tara. “It’s good to finally meet you. I apologize if we frightened you in Edinburgh. It wasna our intent. We were trying to reach you before Malcolm did.”

She blinked, unsure of what to say. Finally, she remembered her manners and replied, “It’s good to meet you as well.”

Fallon turned to Ramsey then, his smile gone. “First, that seems to have gotten worse,” he said, and pointed to the wisps of magic swirling around both of Ramsey’s arms.

“I touched her skin.”

“I see,” Fallon said. “We’ll go into that later. What I really came to tell you is that I can no’ find them.”

“My arse,” Ramsey said without much heat. “You can find them.”

“You know if a Warrior doesna want to be found he willna be.”

Ramsey sighed and shook his head. “Then take Tara with you back to the castle.”

“No,” Tara said and took a step back. “We’ve been through this, Ramsey.”

“That was before I had to worry about three additional friends out there. I can no’ do it all!”

“Then don’t,” she argued.

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a snort. “You all make it sound so easy.”

“That’s because you are no’ telling us everything,” Fallon said.

Tara watched the way Ramsey’s body subtly stiffened.

“Aye,” Fallon said with a nod. “I’m no’ dim-witted, old friend.”

“I never thought you were,” Ramsey said.

Tara walked to the coffeepot and poured three mugs’ worth. She handed one to Fallon and another to Ramsey. It wasn’t until she was back in the kitchen leaning against the counter with her own mug in her hand that she said, “It appears, Ramsey, that your friends are going to help you whether you want it or not. Either tell them the truth, or allow them to help you defeat Declan.”

“This is my chance against him,” Ramsey said. “I can end Declan. I have the advantage here. He doesna know me or what I can do. If I show him, if he gets a hint then I’ve lost what small advantage I have and … I may never be able to defeat him.”

Tara wasn’t used to battle strategy. She was the run-and-hide type, so she had never considered planning for Declan’s arrival and the subsequent battle.

“I understand now, but I still won’t allow you, or anyone, to die for me.”

“No one is dying,” Fallon said in a stern voice. “We can still hold the advantage, Ramsey. Declan has no idea there are Warriors here. If we outnumber him, we could win.”

Ramsey ran a hand down his face and sighed. He’d wanted to keep the truth from Fallon, but he had a suspicion his friend already knew.

“If we do this, when I face Declan, I need you to get everyone out of here. And I mean everyone, Fallon.”

Fallon met his gaze squarely. “You willna tell me why?”

“Because the mixture of my magic and my power is so great and terrible that I can no’ control it. It takes me, and when it does, people get hurt.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ramsey saw Tara flinch at his words. He’d been a fool to think he could keep what he was a secret, to keep what he could do a secret. But more than that, he’d been a fool to think he would have a chance with someone like Tara.

“All right,” Fallon said. “I’ve already called the others, and they refused to pick up their mobiles. I’ll give it another try while I go looking for them. Then I’m bringing the other Warriors here. We’re going to end Declan.”

Ramsey turned his head to Tara so he could see her expression when Fallon teleported out of the cottage.

“Oh, my God,” she mumbled, her hand over her mouth. Her gaze swung to Ramsey. “Can all Warriors do that?”

“Nay. Each god has its own power.”

“I knew each of you had a special power, I just didn’t realize that was Fallon’s. Why do you all turn different colors?”

He shrugged. “Partly because each god favors a color. The MacLeod brothers share a god because each are equal warriors to the other. Fallon teleports, Lucan controls shadows and darkness, and Quinn can communicate with animals.”

“What can you do?”

He rubbed his thumb over his fingers. “I can manipulate mass.”

“How exactly?”

Ramsey walked to the brass statue of an elk on the end table and touched it. With just a thought he turned it into first a picture frame, then a candle, and then back to the statue.

“Oh, hell. That’s amazing,” Tara said, eyes wide with disbelief.

He shrugged. “I doona use my power like the others.”

“Because of your mix with magic?”

“Aye. It costs me too much to try and control what little I do.”

Tara walked to the couch and tucked her legs under her as she sat. “Tell me about your god.”

Ramsey set his mug on the end table and lowered himself into the chair. “His name is Ethexia, and he’s the god of thieves.”

“Thieves? Wouldn’t that make you good at stealing things?”

“Why do you think I can manipulate mass?”

She laughed, the sound shooting straight into his gut and making him grin in return. She seemed so at ease sitting with him talking of magic and gods, yet Ramsey knew at any moment this reprieve could be shattered with the arrival of Declan.

“What color does your god favor?”

Ramsey glanced down at his hands and said, “Bronze.”

“Can I see?”

“Why? You admitted you’ve only seen the Warriors once before. I doona want to scare you.”

“You won’t.”

“Believe me, Tara, it will frighten you. We’re meant to frighten. And if we unleash our gods in battle, it’s because we mean to protect what is ours and kill what’s coming for us.”

She shrugged. “Like any Highlander.”

“I suppose so.” He’d never thought of it like that. When had he stopped thinking of himself as a Highlander and started thinking of himself as a Warrior only?

Probably about the time he stopped thinking and practicing his magic.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

Ramsey scratched his chin. “About my magic. For so long I refused to acknowledge it was there. Now, when I need it, I’m no’ going to be able to control it.”

“Was your magic powerful before?”

“Aye.”

She smiled and said, “Then you shouldn’t have a problem now. As my grandmother used to tell me, once we learn magic it never leaves us. It’s always there, waiting for us to call to it.”

“Your grandmother was very wise.”

“Yes, she was. I think you would have liked her, even though she was
drough
.”

Ramsey shifted in his chair and took a drink of the coffee. “Tara, I didna kill your mother when I went to see her. I may no’ like
droughs,
but I doona kill them.”

“They’re evil. They bring evil into the world. They do evil’s bidding.”

“Aye, and they answer for it all when they die.”

“And if I was
drough
, would you still be trying to save me?”

Ramsey looked into her blue-green eyes and answered honestly. “Without a doubt.”

Her smile, warm and sincere, filled the room. He was about to ask her about her childhood when his advanced hearing caught the sound of something above the din of the snowstorm.

Ramsey was on his feet instantly. Almost immediately Ramsey’s mobile rang.

“He’s here!” Charon shouted over the snow.

Ramsey hung up and looked at Tara. Her face had lost all its color and the coffee mug fell from her hands. He had little choice but to protect her until Fallon could get her out.

He went to her and grabbed her arms. “Stay with me. Do you understand? You have to stay with me until it’s time for you to leave. I’ll keep you safe.”

When she didn’t answer he gave her a little shake.

“Yes, yes!” she shouted.

“Get your coat,” Ramsey ordered.

He wished like hell Fallon was here so he could take Tara away. Ramsey put his hand on the door and looked at the magic tendrils swirling around him.

The sound of Declan’s helicopter grew louder as it neared the castle. Ramsey doused all the lights in the cottage and watched as the chopper set down behind the castle.

The helicopter door opened and four mercenaries clad in all black with black masks covering their faces rushed out, their rifles up and ready to use. A moment later Declan climbed out of the chopper and waved it away.

“The chopper willna be far. Declan will want it close enough to take you away,” Ramsey told Tara as she came up behind him.

“I won’t go with him.”

“Nay, you willna.”

The mercs split up. Two went with Declan toward the castle while two fanned out. Ramsey smiled as he saw Charon’s copper skin rise out of the snow and snap the head of one of the guards.

“Was that Charon?” Tara asked breathlessly.

Ramsey nodded, a smile on his face as he realized they did outnumber Declan. Ending the bastard was going to be easier than Ramsey thought.

But Ramsey’s smile died when Charon whirled around to face ten more mercenaries.

A roar rent through Ramsey when the first X90 bullet ripped through Charon.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tara stumbled backward at the fierce roar that made her ears ring. She stared wide-eyed with her mouth hanging open as Ramsey transformed before her eyes.

His skin darkened to a deep bronze. Claws, long and wickedly sharp, formed from his fingertips. When he pulled his lips back and growled, Tara saw Ramsey’s fangs.

But it was his eyes that held her spellbound. Gone were his beautiful silver eyes. In their place the same bronze color as his skin filled his eyes from corner to corner.

It was disturbing and beautiful at the same time. His fury came off him in waves, and she barely had time to take it all in before he jumped through the window.

Tara scrambled to her feet, tripping over her coat and her scarf. She reached the windowsill and put her hands on it to lean out and see where Ramsey had gone.

“Damn,” she muttered when something poked her palms.

She looked down to see shards of glass sticking out of both hands. Tara took a moment and pulled out the biggest pieces as she tried to decide what to do.

Ramsey had told her to stay with him, but there was no way she could keep up with him. He had practically flown across the snow toward Charon.

And he wasn’t alone.

Warriors were suddenly everywhere. There were three black-skinned Warriors who fought side by side working their way through the mercenaries. A red Warrior who hurled fire, a brown Warrior who made the earth open up, and a silver Warrior who was using the water from the sea as his weapon.

And they weren’t the only ones. There was a green Warrior, a pale blue Warrior, and one with skin the color of indigo. Where Arran was Tara had no idea.

Yet for every mercenary they took down, ten times as many bullets filled the air. Tara didn’t understand what these bullets were or why they affected the immortal Warriors the way they did.

She wanted to help somehow, but how could she? The melee was mind-boggling. The Warriors moved with speed and ferocity that left her reeling.

Tara’s gaze found Ramsey as he used his claws to slash any merc who got close to him. He would also take the time to touch the rifles the mercs used and turn them into something else.

But the damage had already been done.

Several of the Warriors were injured, blood oozing from bullet wounds. Tara waited for Charon to rise, but the Warrior hadn’t moved since being struck multiple times by the bullets.

Suddenly Fallon was there, and with a touch of his hand both he and Charon disappeared. A heartbeat later he returned and took other wounded Warriors with him.

There was a loud, gurgling scream that came from within the castle. Tara’s head jerked in its direction as she squinted through the snow. A smile pulled at her lips as she realized Arran had remained inside, waiting for the mercenaries.

Tara took a deep breath and began to relax. Ramsey had been right. They would win against Declan. She should never have worried, and she would never again doubt the abilities of the Warriors.

“Well, well, well,” said a deep voice near her. A voice she’d hoped never to hear again.

Tara turned around to see Declan leaning against the outside of the cottage, oblivious to the thick snow that continued to fall.

“Hello, Tara. You’ve given me a merry chase these last ten years, lass. I think you owe me an apology.”

“Kiss my ass, Declan.” She said it with more force than she felt. In fact, she was terrified. So terrified she couldn’t even call up a meager amount of magic to help her.

Declan tsked and shook his finger at her. “Now that’s no way to treat a friend, love.”

“You were never my friend. You were using me.”

He shrugged. “So you’re a means to an end. You could still benefit from being associated with me. Most would love to be in your position.”

“I’m not most, you arrogant ass. I want no part of your plan.”

“That’s too bad, because you really have no choice. I came here for you, and I’ve no intention of leaving without you.”

Men she hadn’t heard enter the cottage grabbed each of her arms and dragged her out the door. She fought against them, kicking and screaming in her fury.