Midnight's Seduction Page 2

  The Celts had used them, revered them. The stones were seen all over Britain, their origins a mystery. Few realized it was the magic contained within them that drew people.

  But a Warrior knew. A Warrior had the ability to sense magic—good and evil. Camdyn dug the heel of his black boot into the earth, thankful the magic he felt wasn’t doused in evil as a drough’s magic was.

  Droughs. How he hated them. Or one in particular. Deirdre.

  Just thinking about her made the bile rise in his stomach. He’d had a good life before Deirdre had found him and unbound his god, turning him into the monster he was.

  Camdyn had survived her cursed mountain and managed to escape. He’d found refuge in the deep forests and the mountains. Until he had come across Allison. She had been like a light in the darkness.

  As soon as Camdyn saw her he knew she was the one for him. She hadn’t batted an eye when he told her how the Celts of old had allowed the droughs to call up primeval gods locked in Hell. The strongest warriors in each family stepped forward and allowed those gods into their bodies, creating the first Warriors.

  It was those first Warriors who rid Britain of Rome. But it came at a price—the death of many Celts before the droughs and mies combined their magic to bind the gods inside the men since they couldn’t make the gods leave.

  The gods traveled through the bloodline of these warriors, waiting for a day when they could have control once again. Deirdre gave them that wish when she found the hidden scroll and learned the MacLeods held a god.

  Three brothers, in fact, shared one of the most powerful gods between them. Once Deirdre unbound their god, she set about finding the rest.

  Camdyn snorted, the claws of his god lengthening from his fingers as hatred rolled inside him. He drew in a long, deep breath until he had himself back under control and his claws had disappeared.

  Allison had believed every word of his tale, but even then it had taken Camdyn nearly five years before he allowed her to see what he changed into when he called up his god. The times before, he would make sure he was far from her and their cottage before he changed.

  Yet, not even his transition could make her cower in fear. Camdyn had rarely left her. He’d stayed by her side, living the life they had been granted.

  And when she began to age, he saw the sadness in her eyes.

  A shift in the air drew Camdyn’s gaze to the left and his thoughts to the present. He turned his head to find Arran watching him closely. Arran had already called up his god, and his white skin, claws, and eyes stood still in the darkness.

  Arran cocked his head to the side, a silent question.

  Camdyn gave a quick shake of his head before he looked back at the stones. They had come to make sure they were alone, because somewhere below the stones rested Deirdre’s twin sister, Laria.

  The answer to ending Deirdre’s life once and for all.

  Moments ticked by before a cloud of darkness began to dissipate and Lucan MacLeod stepped out and looked at each of them.

  “Well?” Fallon, the eldest MacLeod and leader of the Warriors at their castle, asked.

  Lucan lifted a brow. “I doona sense Deirdre or any of her wyrran.”

  Camdyn spat at the mention of the wyrran. They were Deirdre’s pets, created by her to be commanded only by her. They were small in stature, hairless and thin, but deadly with their talons on their hands and feet. Their yellow eyes were sinister looking, but it was their mouthful of teeth that their lips couldn’t fit over that made them truly ugly.

  “I agree,” Lucan muttered to Camdyn.

  Arran moved toward Lucan from his hiding place, the white skin of his god disappearing once more. “Has the ground been disturbed?”

  “Nay,” Camdyn answered. Since his power was to command the earth, he could also tell when it had been dislocated and how. “Nothing has touched the stones, especially inside the circle, in quite some time.”

  “Camdyn’s right,” Lucan said.

  Fallon crossed his arms over his thick chest as he looked at the stones. “The magic is heady here.”

  The other three nodded silently.

  Camdyn rubbed his hands together. “Finally, after two hundred and fifty years, I’m going to help end Deirdre.”

  “Six hundred and fifty,” Arran corrected with a grin. “Remember, we allowed the Druids to toss us into the future.”

  How could Camdyn keep forgetting he lost four centuries of his life? Not that he minded. He was getting used to this modern world fairly well, and with the aid of his god he’d learned to understand their language swiftly.

  “Aye,” Camdyn said.

  Lucan moved to stand by his brother Fallon. “Regardless, it’s about to end.”

  “It almost seems too good to be true,” Fallon said softly.

  The four of them stood together as the sun crested the horizon, lighting the Ring of Brodgar in its golden glow.

  Camdyn had to admit the sight was glorious. The stones themselves stood in a huge circular pattern on a thin strip of land on an eastern-sloping plateau separating two lochs.

  Twenty-seven stones remained upright in the circle, and even more interesting was the area where the stones themselves were. It was as if it had been hollowed out. No weeds or wildflowers grew where the stones were. The grass was greener, leaving a distinct circle that could be seen from any angle.

  There was no doubt in Camdyn’s mind it was magic.

  The shadows began to fade as the sun continued its ascent into the sky, and even though Camdyn knew how dangerous it was to stand in the open with Deirdre likely to appear any moment, he couldn’t make himself leave.

  There was something so appealing, so … comforting about the stones that made him crave to stay.

  Camdyn looked at Arran, Lucan, and Fallon, and one by one, the Warriors pulled their gazes from the stones.

  “It’s time to return to the castle and tell the others what we’ve learned,” Fallon said.

  Arran grinned, his eyes flashing with excitement. “And get ready for a battle.”

  Camdyn didn’t have time to say anything as Fallon put his hand on his shoulder, and in the time it took him to blink, they were standing in the bailey of MacLeod Castle. Fallon called it jumping; its more modern term was teleporting, and Camdyn rather liked the speed with which they could travel.

  “Lucan!” Cara shouted and raced to her husband as they walked into the castle.

  Fallon hurried to his wife, and lone female Warrior, Larena, and wrapped his arms around her. Camdyn and Arran continued past them to the two long tables that had been put together.

  As Camdyn walked by his fellow Warriors, he noticed just how many had found their women. He, Ramsey, and Arran were the only Warriors left without mates at the castle.

  At least they weren’t the only single men. There was Aiden, Quinn’s son, and Braden.

  That thought had no sooner gone through his mind than he felt a wave of forceful, brilliant, and all too pleasing magic move over him.

  Camdyn didn’t need to look up to know it was Saffron. Her magic had had a distinct feel for him ever since he lifted her in his arms in Declan’s prison.

  He found his gaze rising to the top of the stairs where Saffron stood in a pale yellow sweater and jeans that fit her long lean legs to perfection. Her walnut-colored hair hung freely about her face as her eyes moved leisurely over the hall.

  He released a breath he hadn’t known he held. When Danielle raced to Saffron, and Saffron’s eyes followed her, Camdyn knew Declan’s spell to blind Saffron was truly gone.

  Everyone worried that the spell wouldn’t release Saffron, but the simple fact that no nightmares had plagued her the previous night, as they had in the past, told Camdyn she would be all right.

  He’d been the one to go to her every night and calm her, though she never knew of it. No one did, and that’s how he wanted it kept.

  Camdyn had been unable to stay away from her this past night, however. He’d checked in on her seve
ral times. And each time she had been sleeping peacefully.

  Still, it was good to see for himself that Declan’s spell was truly gone.

  He kept silent, trying to hear what Saffron and Dani said to each other, but everyone was so excited to see Saffron that they began talking at once.

  Cara disengaged herself from Lucan’s arms and waited at the bottom of the stairs for Saffron and Dani. Saffron whispered something to Cara who gave a nod and a soft smile.

  Saffron walked with slow, measured steps that were graceful and elegant. Her posture was impeccable, but the smile on her face was forced.

  Camdyn wondered if anyone else noticed. She passed him with nary a look, and then suddenly halted. Their eyes met, clashed. Held.

  For several heartbeats they said nothing, but he saw her shoulders relax a fraction before she walked around the table to sit next to Fiona and Braden.

  Camdyn wanted her to know who he was, but how could she? She only knew his voice, not his face. Why he’d wanted her to recognize him, Camdyn couldn’t begin to fathom. But it made him uncomfortable.

  He surreptitiously glanced at Saffron to find Fiona and Braden both talking to her.

  It was because of Isla’s magic of shielding the castle from view, as well as keeping the mortals from aging, that the Druids, including Fiona and Braden, who had been at the castle over four hundred years, hadn’t grown older.

  Camdyn didn’t blame Fiona and Braden from staying at the castle. The world had changed drastically since they took refuge in the castle in the seventeenth century, and with Deirdre still out there hunting Druids, it was better to stay hidden.

  But he couldn’t help but wonder what they would do when Deirdre was gone. There was still Declan to consider, but Declan didn’t hunt Druids for their magic as Deirdre did.

  Once Deirdre was gone, Declan was next on their list.

  The thought of Declan reminded Camdyn of Saffron. He’d never forget how he’d first found her, chained and half starved, how she had quivered in his arms when he’d broken the chains and lifted her.

  She’d been frightened by him, but despite the horror Declan had put her through, she had gathered her courage and wrapped her arms around Camdyn’s neck.

  He’d been the only one who could gain access to Saffron’s prison because of his power to move the earth, and that was how he’d become her rescuer. Or so he told himself.

  The truth was, once he saw her, he’d wanted to be the one to free her, the one to bring her out of the darkness. Camdyn wasn’t sure why, nor did he understand this yearning he had to be near her in case she needed him.

  Saffron had proved to be adept and courageous. Yet, regardless—or maybe in spite of that—Camdyn kept a close eye on her at all times.

  Out of the corner of his eye he watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a nervous gesture she probably didn’t even know about. But her anxiety caught his attention.

  “How do you feel, Saffron?” Quinn asked.

  Saffron’s tawny eyes shifted to the youngest MacLeod. “Better now that Declan’s magic is gone, Quinn.”

  Quinn chuckled. “How did you know who I was?”

  “Your voice,” she answered.

  One by one Camdyn watched her call out each person’s name after they spoke to her. Her shoulders relaxed each time, and her smile grew more genuine.

  Inwardly he nodded as realization dawned. She had been afraid.

  That was something Camdyn hadn’t expected. As long as Saffron had been at the castle she’d had an iron will, an unbreakable attitude.

  However, it wasn’t the first time Camdyn had seen a chink in her armor. No one but he knew of the nightmares she suffered, and he only knew because he heard her in the lonely hours of the night when he walked the corridors of the castle.

  He’d been unable to stay away from her strangled cry that first night. Every night since then he had gone to her. He did nothing but lay a hand on her forehead, but that seemed to calm her.

  Until the next night.

  At first it had been just to quiet her, and then he’d needed to touch her, to see her. He dared only to touch her forehead, but he’d come to love the feel of her thick hair and the way it fell against the pillow. He’d come to need the sound of her soft breath as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

  Camdyn had tried not to see her bare legs that had kicked at the covers, or see the dusky nipple that poked through her white tank.

  He’d tried and failed.

  A flood of heat seared through his body as the memory of her lithe body flashed in his mind.

  He cocked his head to the side as he studied her. Would she have more nightmares now that Declan’s black magic was gone? More importantly, could he keep away from her?

  Suddenly, her tawny eyes moved to him and held him captive. She stared at him for numerous silent moments. Camdyn took that time to drink in the stunning sight of her, from her oval face and slim neck to her wide lips and high cheekbones.

  Thick locks of her rich brown hair fell over her shoulder to lie artfully above her breast. He wanted to reach out and touch her hair because he knew just how soft it was.

  There was a poise about her that spoke of refinement and class, yet in her gaze he saw a wildness, a recklessness that nearly matched his own. It was so unexpected and startling that it made his balls tighten in a desire so fierce, so intense, he had to grip the bench he sat on to keep from going to her.

  “Camdyn.”

  Her voice, soft and gentle, fanned the flames of desire that was already out of control. He gave a slight bow of his head, and smiled inwardly. It hadn’t been a question but a statement. Another testament to her confidence. “Aye.”

  For several minutes her beautiful tawny gaze held his before she looked away. But Camdyn couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t stop the way her magic enveloped him, covered him.

  Seduced him.

  CHAPTER

  THREE

  Saffron inhaled deeply and found herself relaxing as the breath left her lungs. Everyone treated her no different than they had before, and that was saying something.

  Most people handled the blind with kid gloves, but not the residents of MacLeod Castle.

  At least now she knew not only everyone’s voice, but also their faces. Lucan, the middle MacLeod brother, with the small braids at his temples and griffin-head torc.

  Fallon, the eldest MacLeod and leader, with his boar-head torc and dark green eyes. Quinn MacLeod, with his wolf-head torc and alert attitude. Hayden, the tallest of the men, stood like a blond giant. Galen had kind indigo eyes that seemed to see right into her soul.

  Broc, who stood guard over all of them; Logan, who had a mischievous grin; Ian, who had eyes only for Danielle; Ramsey, who was the quiet one with silver eyes; Arran, who was the one eager for a fight; and Camdyn …

  Saffron refused to look at the Warrior again because in the depths of his dark eyes she saw the same loneliness and anger that was within herself. The same sadness, the same hunger for something more.

  She’d known it was him as she passed him in the hall. He’d not spoken, not moved, but she’d known who he was simply by the feel of the man himself.

  It had sent a shiver of delight through her, a shiver that had made her stomach flutter and her heart skip a beat.

  After just one look at him, his face was branded in her mind. From his long, straight black hair that he let fall freely around his sculpted face, to the dark shadow of a beard on his hollowed cheeks that only made him sexier.

  It could also be his dark eyes and the thick brows that slanted over them. She swallowed as she recalled the hard line of his jaw and his full lips, lips she knew could probably make any woman swoon. All of which she had felt with her hand, but she hadn’t been prepared to see just how devilishly handsome he was.

  But it wasn’t just his face. She had felt the thickness of his muscles, but feeling and seeing were two different things, especially when it came to Camdyn.

&
nbsp; His meaty shoulders were made visible by the black tee stretched taut over his arms and chest as he braced his forearms on the table and listened to something Ramsey said.

  She’d caught a glimpse of his bum and the way the dark denim hugged him. With one glance, she’d taken in all that was Camdyn. And she wanted more.

  “What happened on the isle?” Broc asked Fallon, bringing Saffron out of her thoughts and back to the war that raged.

  She shifted her gaze to Fallon, who sat at the head of the table, his hands folded over his tight stomach as he leaned back in his chair.

  “Deirdre hadna arrived,” Fallon answered.

  Arran snorted. “Yet. We need to get there before she does.”

  “Did you sense her nearby?” Hayden asked.

  Lucan shook his head. “Nay. The Ring of Brodgar is huge, and I walked it several times searching for the smell of her foul magic.”

  “The area is devoid of trees,” Camdyn said. “There was nowhere for her to hide. The peninsula where the stones are located is long and skinny with lochs on each side.”

  Reaghan, one of the Druids with powerful magic and wife to Galen, leaned her elbows on the table and nodded. “It’s just as I remember it described to me.”

  Saffron still had a hard time believing that Reaghan, beautiful, soft-spoken Reaghan, had put a spell on herself that wiped her memories every ten years to hide the location of Laria from Deirdre.

  It was difficult to tell who was the oldest of the Druids, Reaghan or Isla. Both of them had gone through several more centuries of being immortal than any of the Warriors had.

  “What are we waiting for then?” Sonya, the healer, asked as she looked around the table.

  It was Ian who raised a dark brow and said, “It seems too easy.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Logan said.

  “Easy or no’, we need to get to Laria,” Quinn stated.

  Broc shrugged. “I can always locate Deirdre with the use of my power.”

  Galen drummed his fingers on the table and said, “We’ll need you to do just that, my friend.”

  There was a crackle of tension as Fallon focused his gaze on Ramsey. Saffron glanced at Ramsey who sat to her left a little ways from her. He returned Fallon’s stare with nonchalance, as if he were testing Fallon in some way.