Midnight's Temptation

“How do you ever leave?” she asked as he slowly followed.

He waited until he stood beside her before he said, “It gets more difficult each time.”

“If this was mine, I’d never leave.”

“Then consider it yours for as long as you want.”

Aisley jerked her gaze to his. She was used to being treated with disdain and hatred. It had been so long since anyone was nice that Aisley wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I mean it,” Phelan continued. “Stay as long as you’d like.”

She looked away, her throat clogged with emotion. It was wrong for her to have allowed Phelan to help her in any way, shape, or form. She regretted it now more than ever. “Just one night. I’ll stay one night.”

He didn’t say anything as he turned and pulled a key out of his pocket to unlock the door. Aisley took another few minutes to stare at the calm waters of the loch before she followed him inside.

There she came to a stop. The outside might be quaint and look more like a home built two hundred years ago, but the inside was completely modernized.

“Surprised, I see,” Phelan said as he leaned a hip against the kitchen counter.

“Yes.” Aisley laughed as she continued inside. “I think you spend more time here than you let on.”

Phelan tossed the keys onto the small island. “I used to spend a lot of time here, but lately it seems all I’ve been doing is going to battle after battle fighting evil.”

Aisley set the helmet down on the island and saw three bar stools tucked beneath the overhang of the countertop. She spotted her duffle lying near the couch. When he had brought that in?

“Make yourself at home,” Phelan said. “I’m going to go pick us up some groceries.”

Before she could form a response, he was out the door and on his bike. She watched him drive away, wondering if she should make a break for it now.

Then she remembered the feel of his muscles, the heat of his body as she’d leaned against him the entire ride. She recalled the feel of his arms as he lifted her when she had the migraine.

She remembered how he had quickly found her after the accident and gotten her onto his bike before the authorities came. Or worse—Jason.

Aisley shuddered. Leaving now would be the best thing, the right thing. But an image of Phelan’s blue-gray eyes filled with desire flashed in her mind, and she knew she would stay.

“For just one night,” she said to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Though she’d never driven a motorcycle, she was already making plans to steal it in the wee hours of the morning and leave.

Phelan would find her. She knew that without a doubt. That’s when she would tell him every sordid, ugly detail of her life. And ask for his help.

It wasn’t death she was afraid of, it was the disappointment and fury she suspected to see in Phelan’s eyes.

Jason had promised her she would be powerful. Becoming drough made her magic potent, but she was still the scared, pitiful, starving girl he’d found waiting for death in that alley.

He’d given her hope. Aisley hadn’t realized how desperate she’d needed something to hope for, and she had grabbed it—and Jason’s offer—with both hands.

Her father had called her weak.

Her mother had called her amoral.

Jason had called her devious.

Only one person had ever seen any good in her. Phelan.

She longed to believe Phelan when he said she was a good person, but Aisley knew the awful truth. She was evil and what part of her soul remained was destined for Hell.

There was one slim chance to do something good, and she was going to take it and pay whatever it cost to make sure Jason never harmed another person in this life or the next.

Something dropped onto her hand. Aisley reached up to swipe at her face and felt the wetness of tears.

“Damn you, Phelan,” she said. “You’ve made me cry.”

Tears—or any emotion—hadn’t been possible while in Jason’s company. It was a sign of softness, and as droughs, any emotion was forbidden.

For so long she kept everything she was feeling inside her. Aisley feared the day she gave in to everything, because it would likely consume her.

She removed the wide leather bracelet she wore on her right arm. It hid the two-inch scar on the inside of her wrist from the drough ceremony. Her watch hid the scar on her left wrist.

Keeping them hidden from Phelan would take some doing, but he deserved to hear the truth from her. Not by seeing the scars.

At least she didn’t have her Devil’s Kiss anymore. The small silver vial droughs wore around their necks holding a few drops of their blood had been one thing she refused to do.

Jason hadn’t understood it, but he hadn’t pushed her. Aisley hated the Devil’s Kiss more than she hated the scars on her wrists.

The scars she could lie about. The Devil’s Kiss she couldn’t.

Aisley turned on her heel and grabbed her duffle as she walked down the small hallway until she found the bathroom. A large claw-foot tub sat under a wide window overlooking the forest.

She wasted no time in turning on the water to fill the tub. A good soak would wash away the threat of tears. At least she prayed it did. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Charon tossed his mobile phone onto the couch as he strode to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the top floor of his building.

“Bad news?” Laura asked as she looked up from her book.

Charon stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his slacks and blew out a harsh breath. “He’s no’ answering his damned phone.”

Laura set aside her book and rose from the couch. She walked barefoot to her husband and slipped her arms around his waist from behind.

She rose up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “He might be busy. Phelan is quite the ladies’ man.”

“He answers, Laura. He always answers.”

“Unless he can’t,” she reminded him. “If he was in trouble he’d let you know.”

Charon turned his head slightly, his chin-length dark locks brushing her cheek. “I hope you’re right. I’m concerned about the Druid who’s with him.”

“Why? Phelan knows the difference between droughs and mies. What are you worried about?”

“I doona know. Something just doesna seem right.”

Laura walked around Charon until she stood in front of him. “Could it be you’re upset that he didn’t tell you he had a Druid with him?”

Charon pulled her into his arms and rested his chin atop her head. “He was my only friend for a long time. He’s no’ the settling down type.”

“So you’re worried about the Druid?”

“I doona know what the bloody hell I’m worried about. He didna tell me anything other than he had a Druid with him. No’ her name or anything.”

Laura closed her eyes and shrugged. “It could be a male. Not all Druids are female.”

“It was a woman,” Charon said. “If it wasna, Phelan would’ve had Fallon bring the Druid to the castle immediately.”

“Hm. Then wait a little longer and call Phelan again. If he’s on his motorbike, getting ahold of him isn’t