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Midnight's Captive(31)

By:Donna Grant


Phelan was standing in front of her so fast, she hadn’t seen him move. “Aye, we believe it because we live it every damn day.”

“Phelan,” Charon said sharply, a low growl coming from him.

Laura lifted her chin and stood her ground until Phelan turned away. The anger in his blue-gray depths frightened her much more than the truth she saw there.

“There are Druids,” she repeated, testing the words out on her tongue. She moved to the couch and sank down beside Charon. “If what you said earlier is true, then I’m just a pawn to Jason?”

“A pawn to get to me,” Charon confirmed. “I—”

“We,” Phelan corrected.

Charon flattened his lips as he glared at Phelan. “Fine. We riled Jason a few weeks ago.”

“His mansion was nearly destroyed,” Laura said, remembering hearing something about it on the news. Then the impact of his words hit her. She gaped at him. “You did that?”

Phelan smiled proudly but Charon couldn’t meet her gaze.

“You better believe we did,” Phelan said. “We’d have done more, but Ch—”

“Enough,” Charon interrupted. He raked a hand through his hair, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “She doesna need to know all of it.”

Laura watched Charon rub his chest again. She began to piece everything together then. She knew she didn’t have all the pieces, but it wasn’t hard to fit them together. “That’s the night I couldn’t get ahold of you. You came back the next day with your shirt torn and bloodied. Were you injured?”

Charon refused to answer her, so she looked to Phelan.

Phelan gave a small nod, a frown troubling his brow. “You’re rubbing your chest, Charon.”

Instantly Charon’s hand dropped.

“Does it still hurt?” Phelan pressed.

Charon was on his feet, his back to them both as he walked around the couch. “Drop it.”

“Nay,” Phelan bit out. “I willna. You said you were fine.”

“I’m alive.”

Laura watched the exchange intently. Charon didn’t want her to know what had happened that night two weeks ago, but it appeared he didn’t want Phelan to know the full extent of it either.

“Dammit, Charon!” Phelan exploded. “Sonya needs to know her healing magic didna take care of all of it. And the MacLeods need to know as well. Every Warrior needs to know.”

“What’s a warrior?” Laura asked.

“Nothing,” Charon said the same time Phelan turned his head to her and said, “Us.”

Laura looked down at her bare feet, watching her toes painted a bright coral dig into the rug. It was tearing her up to see Charon so out of his depth.

He’d been injured. That explained the shirt, him rubbing his chest, and why he’d taken off to the forest whenever he could.

The injury couldn’t have been that bad. Could it? They had mentioned Druids and someone named Sonya with healing magic. Maybe the wound had been as bad as she feared.

Just what had she found herself in the middle of?

Laura touched Charon’s shirt, which she still wore. He’d kept his secrets from her because it was a different world. A world of magic, with Druids apparently.

And warriors.

Charon was definitely a warrior. She also knew him to be honorable and decent. If he had attacked Jason Wallace, it was for good reason.

There was only one thing Laura could do, and that was trust Charon. She had put her trust in him the moment he served her ale that day two years ago. Why should she stop now?

She lifted her gaze to him. It made her bristle to have anyone—even the man she’d yearned for—tell her what to do. But she was a liability.

Ben had tried to kidnap her to get to Charon. The why of it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she remove herself from whatever game was being played so Charon could do whatever it was he needed to do.

“If I have to leave, Charon, then I will. But on my own terms.”

His shoulders dropped at her words, and it was then she realized how desperately he wanted her to go. The sting of it was softened only because she was beginning to suspect the danger surrounding Charon was great.

“You can never return,” Charon said as he faced her. “Change your name, your hair color … change everything. You have to begin a new life, one that doesna include Ferness or me.”

It felt as if someone reached into her chest, clamped a hand around her heart, and squeezed. She’d made a home, a life in the village. After all she’d been through with her family, she finally had a place and she wasn’t prepared to give it up. “Ferness is my home.”

“Wallace is coming. He’ll come for me again and again. And he’ll hurt those closest to me.”