Midnight's Captive(9)

Charon’s words halted her on the first step. She swiveled her head to him and saw the sadness in his dark eyes that he couldn’t always keep hidden.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve told you. I love this place. It’s my home.”

“One day you’ll leave. Everyone leaves.”

She opened her mouth to deny it again, when he walked into his office. He quietly closed the door and, in the process, shut her out.

For several seconds, she stood rooted to the spot, debating whether to go to him or not. Had there been a double meaning in his words? Charon rarely showed this side to himself, but whatever it was caused the hurt to go deep inside him.

Laura recognized it because she felt it within herself. Even after two years. It had faded, but it was still there. It would always be there.

Just as her family was always there.

“Good night, Charon,” she whispered and started down the stairs.



“Good night, Laura,” Charon whispered when he heard her words with his enhanced hearing.

The sound of her heels on the stairs faded as she opened, then closed, the door at the bottom of the stairs. He wondered what she would do when she hadn’t immediately left, and he found himself wanting her to come to him.

He’d needed her. After her touch on the balcony, it had taken every ounce of restraint he had not to pull her against him and just hold her.

Holding her wouldn’t be enough. The few times he’d found himself touching her, all he’d wanted was to bend his head and take her lips, to kiss her until she was panting and clinging to him.

He wanted that tonight. He wanted to rip the dress from her body, sit her on his desk, and plunge inside her. Maybe then the horrors of the night before would be pushed from his mind.

It was only because he felt sorry for himself. In the light of day, he would regret taking her to his bed.

Charon rubbed his eyes and walked to his desk. He pulled off his ruined shirt and tossed it into the garbage. Just as he was about to tug on the clean tee, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across from his desk.

He didn’t regret taking the blade for Arran. In his mind, taking a thousand blades covered in drough blood wouldn’t be enough to make up for spying on Arran, Ian, and Quinn for Deirdre.

Was it just a year ago that Charon had found Ian and his wife, Dani, in Ferness? Charon hadn’t known Ian was pulled through time along with Deirdre by Declan.

But seeing Ian had been like the four centuries hadn’t happened. It still felt as if it were the fourteenth century and they were running from Deirdre.

So much had happened since then. Deirdre had killed Duncan, Ian’s twin. Deirdre, and then Declan, had been killed by the Warriors and Druids.

And Charon had told Ian why he had spied for Deirdre. He hadn’t done it for Ian’s forgiveness, but as an explanation of why Charon didn’t feel as though he belonged with the others at the castle.

Even now when those at MacLeod’s called, Charon felt odd going to them. He would never tell them no, but he wasn’t part of their close-knit group.

He, along with Phelan, were outsiders.

That was all right. Charon deserved no less. He would do his part in the fight against evil, but in the end he would return to Ferness. Alone.

Charon shoved his chair into his desk and strode toward the door. The phone rang just as he put his hand on the doorknob to open it.

With a sigh, he turned and answered the phone. “Charon here.”

“You left early.”

Charon squeezed his eyes closed as he recognized Arran’s voice. “Aye. I’ve businesses that needs my attention.”

“I wanted to say thank you again.”

“You said it once. That was enough.”

There was a loud sigh through the phone. “Nay, Charon, it isna. I blamed you for what happened to us in Cairn Toul, but you were just as much a part of Deirdre machinations as we were. You were trying to stay alive. I’d have done the same thing you did.”

“I doubt it.”

“Ian told me what happened with your father.”

Charon dropped his head back and looked at the ceiling. “I didna share that story for sympathy.”

“That’s no’ what you’re getting from me. You’re getting an apology for my attitude,” Arran said. “You shouldna have left. The girls cooked a big meal. Malcolm even stayed.”

Malcolm. Charon thought his life had been hell. It was nothing compared to Malcolm’s. He’d been mortal helping his cousin, Larena. Larena was the only female Warrior and married to Fallon MacLeod, but Malcolm had done everything he could to keep Larena from Deirdre.

In the end, Deirdre sent Warriors to kill Malcolm. Sonya had managed to save him, but could do nothing about the scars or the loss of the use of his right arm.