Midnight's Warrior (16 page)

When the mercs brought her close enough to Declan, she kicked out with her foot and connected with his balls. It was a glancing blow though, not the one she’d hoped would have him writhing on the ground.

Declan grabbed himself and bent over, a low moan of pain falling from his lips. Tara watched with glee at what she had caused.

“You bitch!” Declan bellowed as he looked up at her, his face red and mottled.

“I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

Still hunched over, Declan took a step toward her and backhanded her with enough force that Tara blacked out for a moment. Agony radiated from the right side of her face, and she tasted blood where her cheek had split open on her teeth.

Declan’s hand gripped her jaw painfully as he squeezed. “Go ahead and fight, Tara. My magic has grown significantly since we were together last. I can do things to you now that will make you go insane.”

She lost what little bravado she had at his words. Her first thought was of Ramsey. She wished he were there the same instant she was glad he wasn’t. If he was, there was no telling what Declan would do to him. And Tara couldn’t imagine that.

“Stop your men,” she said.

Declan’s blond brow rose. “Excuse me?”

“Stop your men attacking the Warriors, and I’ll come with you.”

His laughter wasn’t what she expected.

“Why would I call my men off?” Declan asked. “They are taking down the Warriors as no one else ever could.”

Tara’s blood froze in her veins. “What do you mean?”

“Did they no’ tell you, love?” he asked mockingly. “Those bullets are filled with
drough
blood. One drop of
drough
blood kills Warriors.”

Tara heard a roar she knew was Ramsey’s. Her gaze swung to him, and all thought fled as she saw the blood running down his chest from one of the bullets.

Now she understood what had made him so angry when Charon fell. Now she understood why Fallon had hastened to get the wounded out.

She understood all too well that Declan had the upper hand. And she was well and truly screwed.

“I see you get my point,” Declan said as he rubbed his hands together eagerly.

Tara hadn’t paid any attention to the two men holding her. They wore masks to protect their faces from the cold, so it wasn’t as if she’d be able to identify them.

Then something sharp bit through her coat and sweater to pierce her skin. She lowered her head to give Declan the impression she was defeated and saw a white claw before it quickly disappeared.

Hope sprang up in her chest. She wasn’t alone. Somehow Arran was there, and Declan didn’t even realize he had a Warrior so close to him.

Tara lifted her head and glared at Declan. “I’ll die before I turn
drough
.”

“You say that now,” Declan said as he clasped his hands behind his back and took another step closer to her. “Soon you’ll be begging me for mercy, begging me to do anything to stop the pain. Shall I give you a taste?”

She didn’t have time to prepare herself as she doubled over in agony so fierce, so terrible, she couldn’t breathe. The pain came from everywhere as it racked her entire body, leaving her sagging in the arms of her captors, a silent scream locked in her throat.

“You are no’ what I call beautiful,” Declan whispered in her ear as Arran and the other merc continued to hold her up. “But you are passable, and my men would like a turn at you. I’ll give you to them, Tara. I’ll let them have you again and again until you withdraw so far into yourself that you willna be able to stand against me. Your magic will be mine to command.”

“Does your conceit know no bounds?” said a deep, growling voice filled with rage.

Tara managed to glance up and see Ramsey in all his Warrior glory behind Declan despite the agony running rampant through her. Ramsey’s shirt was gone and blood coated his chest, but he still stood despite the bullet wounds that marked his chest and arms.

“Thank you for holding him, Arran,” Ramsey said.

Declan looked at the men on either side of Tara. Arran released his hold on her and ripped off his mask and smiled, showing Declan his fangs.

The pain hadn’t lessened within Tara, and without Arran to hold her, she toppled to the ground. She caught a glimpse of the merc grabbing for his rifle and kicked out with her foot. Since he was already off balance with her fall, it didn’t take much to bring him down with her.

“I doona think so,” Ramsey said as he touched the merc’s rifle and turned it into a toy gun.

“You willna stop me from having what is mine!” Declan bellowed and threw up his hands.

Arran went flying backward, landing with a bone-crushing sound against the cottage. But Ramsey didn’t budge.

“You will fail, Declan,” Ramsey said.

Tara wanted to watch them, she wanted to see Ramsey tear Declan apart, but the pain was too much. She wrapped her arms around her middle and curled into herself.

“Tara,” a female whispered in her ear.

Tara briefly opened her eyes, but didn’t see anyone besides Ramsey and Declan.

“I’m Larena,” the disembodied voice said. “I’m Fallon’s wife, and a Warrior. My power is invisibility. I need you to hang on a moment longer. Fallon will be here in just a second.”

“No,” Tara whispered. Despite the pain, she didn’t want to leave Ramsey.

A hand was placed on Tara’s shoulder. “Ramsey will be fine. He cannot do what needs to be done until you are gone.”

Less than a second later she was lifted off the ground by Fallon who said, “Declan is all yours, Ramsey.”

In the next instant all the pain left her body. All Tara could do was let out a long breath, her body exhausted from the ordeal. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in the middle of a great hall surrounded by men.

“Are you all right now?” Fallon asked her.

Tara swallowed and gave a slight shake of her head. That’s when she noticed a beautiful woman with short red curls leaning over Charon, her hands above him and her eyes closed.

“He willna answer the damned phone,” said a giant of a man with blond hair as he stalked from one end of the hall to the other.

A petite woman in jeans and a gray sweater with long black hair joined her hands with the redhead’s and said, “Hayden, please keep trying.”

“I’ve found him,” said another man who stood away from the rest with indigo skin and leather wings folded behind his back.

Fallon put Tara down on a bench near the long wooden table. “How far away is he, Broc?”

“Too far for me to take the time to fly,” Broc said.

“Where?” Fallon repeated.

Broc fisted his hands. “A pub in Edinburgh. Somewhere you have no’ been, Fallon.”

Tara watched Fallon’s expression harden. So he could teleport, but obviously he couldn’t go somewhere he’d never been before.

Another man with dark blond hair and cobalt eyes lifted his head. Beside him was a woman with mass of curly auburn hair who frantically tried to see to the wound in his leg.

“I can help,” the man said.

Fallon slammed his hand against the wall. “Galen, you’re wounded.”

Galen waved Broc and Fallon over. “Come. I doona have much left in me.”

Tears filled Tara’s eyes as she realized all the Warriors there were slowly dying, and Charon, who hadn’t moved on the table, might already have died.

Everyone there was injured because of her. Because she’d been too stubborn to leave when Ramsey had asked.

“Broc?” Galen said between clenched teeth as he placed his hand on Broc’s head.

“I’ve got the pub in my head,” Broc answered.

A second later Fallon put a hand on both men’s shoulders and they were gone. Almost immediately Fallon returned with Galen, who slumped to the ground.

“Go!” bellowed another Warrior to Fallon.

Fallon’s gaze met Tara’s before he disappeared.

As worried as she was for all the ones injured in the hall, her mind was on one Warrior in particular—Ramsey.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Ramsey would have preferred that Fallon had gotten Arran out with the rest, but Ramsey would ensure that his friend wouldn’t get hurt when he unleashed everything on Declan.

He waited, amused, as Declan looked around to find all his men down and Tara gone.

“What have you done?” Declan screamed as spittle flew from his lips.

The snow and wind had stopped, making everything eerily quiet. Ramsey lifted one shoulder in a shrug. He couldn’t lift both because of the bullet in one.

It hurt like hell, but the
drough
blood wasn’t having the same effect on him as it did with the other Warriors. He suspected it was because he was a Druid, but none of that mattered now.

“I’ve ensured that you’ll never have Tara,” Ramsey answered.

Declan took a deep breath and slowly released it, using that time to get his anger under control. “You’ve no idea what you’ve done, Warrior.”

“You call me that as if it’s derogatory.”

“It is,” Declan said with a sneer.

Ramsey walked slowly around him. “You’ve your
drough
ancestors to thank for that.”

“I’m going to end all of you Warriors. The gods may still live on in the bloodline, but there will be no scroll or spell known to unbind them. And there will be no Warriors to attempt to stand in my way.”

“You underestimate us if you think we’re so easy to get rid of.”

Declan threw back his head and laughed. “My X90 bullets seem to do the trick.” His gaze narrowed on Ramsey then. “Except with you. What makes you so special?”

A slow, deadly smile tilted Ramsey’s lips. “You’re about to find out.”

Ramsey’s magic had bubbled beneath the surface since he’d released his god after seeing Charon fall. He’d barely kept it at bay during the battle, and it was only thoughts of Tara that had allowed him to do so.

But now he was free to do as he wanted.

He took a deep breath and let his magic fill him and mix with the power of his god. With a flick of his wrist Ramsey sent Declan flying over the cottage and far away from the castle.

Ramsey used his speed and caught up with Declan before he could raise himself off the ground. Ramsey thought of all Declan had done to Saffron and all Declan had wanted to do to Tara. He embraced the fury rising within him. Embraced it, and welcomed it.

He kicked Declan in the ribs, tossing him in the air once more. Declan landed with a grunt and lifted his hand palm out.

Ramsey anticipated his move and stepped to the side as a blast of magic went past him.

“Who are you?” Declan demanded angrily.

“The one you should have stayed away from. The one you should be terrified of. The one who will end you.”

Declan lunged to his feet unsteadily as he held an arm against his broken ribs. “You are nothing more than a Warrior who’s had the aid of magic from some Druid to keep you standing.”

“You think you know so much about Druids, but in fact, you know very little.”

“I know as much as I need to know. I know that as a
drough,
there is no Druid more powerful than me.”

Ramsey took a step toward the weasel and lifted his lips to show his fangs again. “There used to be.”

“You’re wrong,” Declan snapped before he turned his head and spat.

Ramsey threw his arms wide as his magic began to swirl around him. He was tired of Declan’s inane babble, tired of seeing such an evil face. Declan’s time was at an end. He just didn’t know it yet.

The sheer power that swam through Ramsey was amazing. He’d never felt so dominant, never felt so powerful. At that moment, he knew he could do anything, conquer anyone.

“It’s time you die,” Ramsey told Declan.

Declan’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Wait,” he pleaded.

But Ramsey wasn’t interested in anything Declan had to say. He gathered his potent mix of power and magic, letting it grow and grow so that in one blast Declan would be ended.

He was about to release a shot of magic when something slammed into his back three times in quick succession. The added
drough
blood from the X90s sent Ramsey onto one knee.

There were so many of the bullets inside him that he’d lost count, but these last three were apparently too much for even him to take without feeling the effects. He clenched his teeth as his blood began to burn in his veins.

“It hurts, does it no’?” Declan said with a smile.

Ramsey’s lungs seized, and he put one hand on the ground to keep his balance as the sound of a chopper neared. He had this one chance to end Declan. He had to do it now before he lost consciousness.

He focused on Declan as he ignored the pain in his body. His magic was ready and waiting for him.

“Doona even try it,” said a man as he put the end of the rifle against Ramsey’s heart.

Ramsey looked up at the man and smiled. There was no need for him to touch the rifle since it was already pushing against him. With just a thought, his power transformed the rifle into a rubber chicken.

As the man looked at what used to be his weapon, Ramsey sent a blast of magic into him, hurtling him backward. With the helicopter landing not far from him, he had little time to get to Declan.

Ramsey pushed to his feet and took a few awkward steps toward Declan. His body wasn’t working properly, and Ramsey knew his time was running out.

“Robbie!” Declan shouted.

Out of the corner of Ramsey’s eye he saw the man he had sent flying rushing to the chopper. Ramsey held up his hands and sent magic toward Declan at the same instant Declan fired a pistol.

The bullet slammed into Ramsey’s chest, missing his heart by millimeters. He toppled backward into the snow. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was Declan’s scream of pain.

*   *   *

Phelan saw Fallon and Broc come storming into the small pub. He didn’t bother to move from his position at the bar. Phelan wasn’t surprised they had found him. After all, Broc’s power was to find anyone, anywhere. The reason they were looking was what mattered. He’d left the castle because he wanted no part in their quest.

Phelan waited for them to speak as they walked up, but then Fallon put a hand on his shoulder and in the next instant he once more stood inside MacLeod Castle.