“When it appeared the Romans might actually conquer the Celts, they turned to the mies for advice, but the Druids didna have an answer for them. Having nowhere else to go, the leaders went to the droughs.”
“What did they do?” she asked softly.
Charon crossed an ankle over the other. “The droughs called up primeval gods long locked away in Hell. The strongest, bravest warriors of each family stepped forward to take the gods into their bodies. The men became Warriors. They had inhuman strength and speed along with enhanced senses. More than that, the Roman army didna stand a chance against them.”
“Rome left then?”
“Aye. But the Warriors answered the gods’ call for blood. With no more Romans to kill, they slaughtered whoever crossed their path. The droughs tried to pull the gods out of the men and back into Hell, but the gods had a firm hold of the men.”
Her pale green eyes watched him raptly. It took everything he had not to go to her and pull her into his arms, to promise her that he would set everything aright. He wanted—nay, needed—to have her in his arms again.
That need was as strong as his god’s call for death. It startled Charon, how deeply he felt for Laura.
He popped the knuckles in his left hand. “The droughs are strong with their black magic, but nothing they did could move the gods back to their prison. The droughs might be stronger individually, but when a group of mies combine their magic, the force of it is incredible. The droughs knew this, so they turned to the mies for help.
“It was the first time in ages the mies and droughs combined their magic, but even that was no’ enough to send the gods to Hell. All they were able to do was bind the gods inside the men. The gods, however, moved through each bloodline, going to the strongest warrior each time, waiting, hoping for the day they would be released.”
Laura swallowed the last bit of her food. “And the men the gods first inhabited? What became of them?”
“They returned to the life they led before.”
“Were you one of the first?”
He gave a quick shake of his head. “Nay.”
“Who unbound your god?”
Charon pushed away from the door and sighed. “Her name was Deirdre. She was a drough who lived for a thousand years by killing every Druid she came across and taking their magic. She found a scroll with the spell to unbind the gods. Over seven hundred years ago, she attacked this verra castle and killed every living thing inside it to get to the MacLeod brothers.”
Laura looked away. She didn’t want to believe Charon, but the emotion that filled his words left her little choice. His tone made it even more convincing because she didn’t think Charon knew how emotional he sounded.
An odd twinge unsettled her as she listened to his tale. When his voice shook slightly as he spoke of Deirdre, anger had pervaded her.
This was the story he hadn’t wanted to share before. Now, he was telling her all of it. Despite the fact that retelling it seemed to pain him. And she hated to see him hurting.
“What happened to the MacLeods?” she asked as she got to her feet and looked out the window. She couldn’t look into Charon’s dark gaze anymore and see the misery and doubt.
“Deirdre’s magic was the ability to communicate with stone. Cairn Toul Mountain was her fortress. Inside that mountain was where she lived and practiced her black magic. She brought Fallon, Lucan, and Quinn to the mountain and unbound their god. As brothers equally strong in battle, they shared a god. They were lucky enough to escape Deirdre after their god was unbound to return here.”
Laura watched the sea roll endlessly from her window. The birds flew along the currents hunting for food, but she never heard them. She was too focused on the sinfully gorgeous man behind her and his tale she wasn’t sure she wanted to know anymore.
“Deirdre didna stop with the MacLeods,” Charon continued. “Ramsey was the next to be taken. So many more men were captured and their gods unbound.”
Her hands gripped the windowsill as her heart pounded in her chest. He had yet to speak of himself. What had happened to him? Was it as dreadful as she feared, as the slight tremor in his voice bespoke? “And you?”
“I was taken. Six hundred and twenty-some odd years ago.”
She swallowed hard. No wonder Charon always had the answers. He’d been around for six centuries. He’d seen everything.
“Does it bother you that I’m so … old?”
Laura looked at his reflection in the glass and found his gaze locked with hers. She slowly turned to him. “No. A lot about you is beginning to make sense now. Will you tell me more?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”