Awaken the Highland Warrior

“And Bree?”

Bree. He couldn’t explain things he still didn’t understand. The passion, the sense of belonging he felt with her, even when she was driving him barmy. Like he’d found a missing part of himself.

Duncan’s voice came across the earpiece, sparing Faelan the effort of trying to explain. “Demons here. Six of them. Sorcha, look out!”

Before he could think, Faelan started toward the stairs. He stopped when Conall caught his arm. “Female warriors,” Faelan muttered. He spoke into the microphone. “Can you take them?”

“Sorcha’s already killed two,” Duncan said over the screams. “Leave one of them alive… bloody hell, woman. I was going to question him.”

“You should’ve said so,” Sorcha grumbled. “I see a demon, I kill him. You need to take a chill pill, cousin.”

“Stop calling me cousin.”

Conall grinned. “I wouldn’t want to cross her. Guess it was different in your time.”

Faelan nodded. He’d never thought women inferior, as some men did. He always held them in high regard, but they were precious, to be handled gently. He couldn’t imagine going into battle with one, but the other male warriors seemed to regard them as equals on the battlefield. He’d seen Sorcha and Anna at practice and knew they could hold their own.

Bree was just as strong. She’d opened his vault, fed him—no easy task in itself—and helped him find his family. She even saved his life with his own dirk. He wanted to believe he could’ve escaped if she hadn’t destroyed the halfling holding him, but he wasn’t sure. She tried to rescue him from the castle when he didn’t need it and may have loosed his chains when he did. She’d excused inexcusable behavior and let him make love to her more than once.

“You okay? You don’t look so good,” Conall said, glancing up from the map in front of him.

He nodded. Had he made a mistake? He couldn’t think about it now. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“There’s a metal door here.”

“I’ll go in first.” Faelan entered the small empty room. There was another door at the back. Excitement started to build until he saw it was unlocked. Druan wouldn’t leave his virus unsecured. Faelan stuck his head in. Stockpiles of swords and guns lined the walls, more than Druan could possibly use.

Conall moved in behind him. “Blimey. He’s got enough weapons here to wipe out an army. Bet he’s selling them to finance all this.”

“Could be for his halflings.” They couldn’t summon weapons at will. Only full demons had that ability. “Or he’s arming his supporters. You and I know human wars don’t start with humans.”

“If we set a small explosive here,” Conall said, pointing to the door, “we can destroy the entrance without bringing the roof down on our heads. They won’t be able to get to the stuff. We can come back later and destroy it or take it.”

“It’ll announce our presence, but if we can keep these weapons out of their hands, it’ll be worth it.”

“I’ll put a delay on it so we have time to take cover.” Conall planted the device, and they left, shutting the door behind them.

“We found a stash of weapons,” Faelan told the others. “We’re sealing off the door. In about two minutes the floor’s going to shake. Let’s stand back and see what bugs come running.”

“This is where I found you,” Conall said, pointing to a small room behind them.

Faelan moved inside. The scent of death hung in the air. He glanced at the heavy chains hanging from the wall and the pile of clothes in the corner. Kneeling, he turned the body over, wrinkling his nose against the smell. It was the man he’d found beaten in Bree’s backyard. Russell. His injuries were worse. Druan must’ve worked him over again. Whatever part Russell played had sealed his fate.

“The dead guy had some kind of book under his sweater. Leather-bound, like a journal, but I didn’t have time to take a closer look.”

Faelan pulled up Russell’s dirty sweater, not worrying about the stench. “There’s nothing here.”

Conall knelt and looked for himself. “It’s gone.”

“Damnation.”

“What is it?”

“It was the Book of Battles,” Faelan said.

“I thought you hid it.”

“It was gone when I got back from Scotland. Russell must have stolen it.” Not Bree. What else had he accused her of that she hadn’t done?

“I should’ve taken it,” Conall said, “but someone was coming, and my hands were full.”

With me, Faelan thought. “Don’t blame yourself. I saw it on him too and didn’t know what it was. He kept mumbling about protecting something. Must’ve been the book. I think he realized too late what he was up against.”

Conall checked his watch and warned the others. “Thirty seconds till it blows.”

“What’s this?” Faelan asked, pulling an envelope out of Russell’s shirt. It was addressed to Bree. Faelan stuffed it in his pocket and noticed the wound on Russell’s neck. He scrubbed at it with the edge of Russell’s sweater, uncovering two puncture marks. He drew back in shock.

“That looks like—” Conall’s words were interrupted by the explosion.