Midnight's Captive(68)

Or they had been. Now she understood why Aiden hadn’t wanted to tell her anything. She wouldn’t have believed him, for one. But seeing for herself tended to alter everything.

Once she had several samples of blood from Galen, he wiped off his claws. The next time she looked, they—along with his fangs, green skin, and freaky eyes—were gone.

“You doona have to be afraid of me,” Galen said gently. “I willna hurt you.”

She nodded jerkily. “Aiden trusts you. So I trust you.”

“He likes you,” Quinn told her. “Aiden, I mean.”

Britt glanced at Aiden. “I like him.”

“I willna let him die,” Quinn stated into the quiet.

Quinn’s promise gave Britt the courage to turn to the microscope. After all she’d witnessed that night, she believed him.

She ran several quick tests on the drough blood while Quinn was on the phone with someone named Fallon.

“About time,” Quinn said suddenly.

Britt looked up to see another man in the room. He had deep brown hair, and eyes a shade darker than Aiden’s. What really snagged her attention was the gold torc around his neck so similar to the one Quinn wore.

“This is my brother, Fallon,” Quinn told her. “And this is Sonya.”

Britt was so confused by Fallon’s having gotten into the room without her hearing him that she hadn’t even seen the redhead. She gave a nod to both people, more questions than ever filling her mind.

“Sonya is a Druid with healing magic,” Galen told her.

Britt forgot about the tests she was running and watched as Sonya walked to the table were Aiden lay. The Druid winced and lifted her gaze to Quinn when she saw the wound.

“It’s bad, Quinn. The magic he took was meant to kill. I’m not sure how he survived.”

“He’s a MacLeod,” Quinn said, his eyes never leaving Aiden.

“I’ll do what I can,” Sonya said.

Next, Sonya lifted her hands, palms down, over Aiden’s body. She closed her eyes and whispered words Britt didn’t understand.

Britt couldn’t look away, and a few moments later when the blood from Aiden’s wound began to slow to a trickle, she was glad she hadn’t. During those few minutes, magic had been used. She couldn’t feel it, couldn’t see it, but there was no other explanation.

The waiting became unbearable as she silently urged Aiden to open his eyes and look at her, to give her that charming smile that always made her stomach flutter. The longer he went without moving, the more anxious she became.

She needed something to do to occupy her mind. So, Britt turned back to the microscope.

In between running her tests, Britt would glance over at Aiden. Quinn stood by his son, his gaze never leaving Aiden’s face. Galen and Fallon were like sentries on either side of the door while Sonya continued to use her healing magic.

Magic. Britt had never considered it could really exist before she met Aiden. He’d shown her himself, but the real proof came from the battle she’d witnessed. Was it magic that kept Quinn looking as young as Aiden?

Britt forgot about magic when she put a drop of the drough blood into sample C and the sample began to die instantly.

“It’s a good thing he didn’t take that hit directly,” Sonya said, breaking in to Britt’s thoughts.

Britt lifted her head from the microscope and glimpsed Quinn running a hand down his face in a gesture so similar to Aiden’s.

“He shouldna have been here,” Quinn said.

Fallon blew out a harsh breath. “Where would you want him? Hiding with the other Druids? He’s a Highlander, Quinn. You can expect no less of him than what you yourself would do.”

“You didna tell Marcail, did you?” Quinn asked as he looked from Fallon to Sonya.

Sonya shook her head of short red curls. “No, but I will when I return. You’ll face her wrath later.”

“I know.”

Fallon’s dark green gaze turned to her then. “Thank you for helping us, Britt. We’ll keep you safe from Wallace, that I vow.”

Then he laid a hand upon Sonya and they disappeared.

“What the hell was that?” Britt asked, too shocked to move.

Quinn licked his lips before he sank onto a stool beside Aiden. “You saw us tonight, Britt. You saw my skin change, the claws and fangs.”

“And the eyes,” she added.

Galen nodded. “And the eyes. We’re called Warriors. We have primeval gods inside us that grant us immortality.”

“Aiden is my son.” Quinn took a deep breath and slowly released it. “My wife, Marcail, is a Druid, which makes Aiden a Druid as well.”

Britt frowned. “But not a Warrior?”