HauntedLaird (11 page)

“I’m sure you and Roy can work something out.” He nodded at
Doc. “As long as you make it painful.”

“Painful pleasure, oh yes.” He practically drooled as his
voice squeaked.

Brother Leod shook his head, watching Doc turn and leave.
Between the pain Roy would inflict by beating Timothy and the sexual pain Doc
would treat his patient to, Timothy would either die happy from the ass fucking
or die a broken and beaten man. He cared neither which way as long as Timothy
didn’t fail to bring him another MacKinnon. If he did, his days would be
drastically numbered when he unleashed those two on him.

“Leave me,” Brother Leod commanded and Roy did as ordered.

Dragging his hand along the stone as he circled it again,
excitement brewed inside him. It had been a long time coming. Three failures so
far. He’d come so close twice. Those attempts had cost him his pretty-boy
looks. Absently, he touched the taut, twisted left side of his face then
dropped his hand to his hip. The third time, he’d never even gotten near the
statue before it had been set free. He’d felt the sizzle in the air and knew
another MacKinnon had been awakened, but it wasn’t until he saw the idiot
arrested on the news that he knew of that one’s location.

By then, it was too late.

The MacKinnon had met his mate and the curse was broken. But
not this time. Leod snickered, looking at the dead eyes of the statue. This
time he had succeeded and captured a statue. According to Timothy, someone had
spoken the anti-curse and set him free. Leod couldn’t help but grin. That was
half a freedom.

What will he think when he awakes and sees me?
Nightfall couldn’t come fast enough.

“Ah,” he sighed. Things were finally falling into place. The
prophecy would be fulfilled and the Book of Shadows would be his to command.

Power rippled through his veins and his fingers warmed and
glowed. Flames danced on his fingertips then disappeared as quickly as they’d
been summoned. Mind control and keeper of the eternal flame were his specialties.
So far, those tricks had not been enough to gain him the book.

He had to fulfill the prophecy set in motion over two
hundred years ago by his great ancestor and namesake, Hume Leod MacGillivray.
Leod’s new strategy seemed to be his best. Find and steal the remaining cursed
MacKinnons and use them as bait to capture the other MacKinnon brothers. Having
them all locked up in one location would make it so much easier to kill them.

Though his plan to destroy the statues had taken a different
path, he still planned to rid the world of this particular MacKinnon clan. The
one-brother-at-a-time strategy had not been successful. Now he hungered to
annihilate them all in one dastardly blow or at least most of them for now and
the other three once they were found. He grinned. With that completed, the
monks who hid and protected the Book of Shadows would have no choice but to
fulfill his ancestor’s dying wishes.

Whoever shall vanquish Clan MacKinnon shall be thy keeper
o’ thy Book o’ Shadows for all eternity.

A big book chock full of black magic spells and an eternity
to practice them all on an unsuspecting world. Now that was a dream come true.
Brother Leod’s maniacal laughter bounced off the walls. He had no worry of
anyone hearing him. Where they were located was a long-forgotten station on a
pier once used for ferries across the water. The ferries stopped years ago and
the pier’s dire need of repairs condemned it for use. Use by anyone else, that
is. Leod grinned as he lifted the edge of the dirty curtain that hung over the
smudged and broken window.

Not a person within line of sight or earshot. This place was
perfect for what he had in mind. A Viking send-off of sorts for a Scottish clan
of brothers.

Chapter Eleven

Images of her kept him sane while condemned to stone. Her
beauty filled the space behind his eyes and calmed him when otherwise his mind
would have revolted against its prison as the walls closed in on him. Lynn’s
smile brought him inner joy and the wonders of her body set his imagination
ablaze with sexual scenarios he wanted to experience with her. Thinking of the
bed he’d seen in the room before his eyes closed fueled his desire to explore
Lynn’s supple shape in every position possible.

Och.
His body may not have the ability to react but
his mind hummed with vibrant visions of him and her naked, wrapped together as
one. He knew if he were not cursed, his cock would be more solid than the stone
that held him tight at that moment. He hungered to taste her lips the second he
was set free. And if he were a lucky man, he’d sample the flavor of the haven
between her thighs if she allowed him. In the throes of passion, he bet she
tasted sweeter than the bee’s honey.

Pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to bring her to her
pleasure time and time again before he entered her, bringing them both to the
precipice of desire only to tumble into the abyss of glorious release. His
bawls hung heavy between his thighs, desperate to spill his seed deep within
Lynn’s treasure.

She wasn’t an innocent yet she seemed innocent to him in
many ways. Her beautiful blush turned him on with each touch or kiss he had
given her. The heat in her eyes spoke of experience and added to his growing
excitement about this provocative woman. He wanted to read her like his
favorite book, learning something new each flip of the page, and keep her high
upon a shelf to savor repeatedly and protect from harm. His heart grew thinking
about her.

Padon woke to unfamiliar surroundings. Instantly, he knew
Lynn was no longer near. From the smell in the air, he knew he was close to
water but how did he get there? And where was Lynn? He drew his sword and moved
cautiously. The floor beneath him creaked and he stopped. Silence was important
if he wanted to survey his location without being seen.

He took a breath and placed his next step carefully. With
precise actions, he made his way to the window, lifted the dirty curtain and
peeked out. Night had fallen, which he knew since he was free. Bars covered the
windows and the glass from the panes was missing or broken. Was he in a prison
of sorts? Lights darted along the coastline of a river. Which river, he
couldn’t be certain, considering he didn’t know where he’d been taken.

The door behind him creaked and he spun around, readying for
attack, sword held poised to protect himself. The sight of the man who entered
took him by surprise. The man was dressed from head to toe in the guise of a
monk. Was he or wasn’t he a man of the cloth? The last time a man in such
attire stood before him, Padon and his
brathairs
had been cursed. Now he
chose to side with caution and kept his wits about him and his suspicions
geared on high.

“Who are ye?” Padon demanded, not taking his eyes off the
odd-looking man.

“I am Brother Leod.” He brushed the hood from his head and
Padon stiffened.

The left side of his face was marred. His ear lay folded
over. His cheek was a crinkled mess and his left eyebrow no longer existed.
This man had suffered a bad burn, which scarred half his face while leaving the
right side untouched. From the untouched side, he appeared to have been a
handsome man at some point in his past. His eyes contained an eerie
golden-wheat color and gut instinct told him not to stare into them for any
length of time. They did not look real. There would be no trusting this
individual.

Padon cleared his throat. He recognized the name as an
associate of Timothy’s and Lonnie’s, but decided it best to keep that knowledge
to himself. “Where have ye brought mi? And why? Where be Lynn?”

A sinister smile upturned the supposed monk’s lips and Padon
sensed trouble lived within this one. He was no man of the cloth.

“You need not worry about this Lynn person. I’d be more
concerned about your family and yourself.” He waved a hand in the air and heat
filled the room. With each fluid motion, the temperature increased.

Sweat beaded Padon’s brow, but he refused to back down or
believe this man held the ability to control the weather. It had to be a trick
of some sort. In the car, Lynn had shown him a system that made it warm or
cold, depending on the passenger’s needs. Was he somehow operating a similar
object he had hidden within his robe? Padon stood steady and watched for the
opportune moment to turn the events in his favor.

The door opened more and a rather large man with red hair
walked in to stand behind Brother Leod. Padon chose to move, placing both men
in the direct path of his sword should the need to use it arise. Neither
appeared to be carrying a weapon. And if Brother Leod thought for a second that
his childish tricks would alarm him, then Leod was mistaken. It took more than
a bit o’ heat ta unnerve him.

The large redhead pulled his shoulders back and flexed his
thick biceps. Padon’s lip curled at the corner. Preening for a fight only
showed one’s weaknesses. Padon held fast his position, ignoring the sweaty
sensation coating every ounce of flesh, including his palms. When the oversized
oaf took a step toward Padon, he twirled the sword, showing he had the skill of
a true swordsman. The guy’s eyes widened but he wasn’t bright enough to adhere
to the warning. He lunged, trying to take him out at the waist by wrapping his
arms around Padon. Seeing the man had no visible weapon, Padon chose not to run
him through with the sword.

The impact caused him to take a step back to steady himself.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Brother Leod sidestepped toward the
desk, flipped it on its side and stood behind it as if he would use it as a
shield to crouch behind if need be. Coward. Not a valiant quality in a supposed
leader of men.

Padon swung around, throwing the redhead off balance, then
brought his fist along with the hilt of his sword against his attacker’s head.
It was an efficient-enough blow to cause the man’s arms to instantly release
him as he fell with a heavy thud to the floor. But he wasn’t out, simply
stunned and dazed. He staggered to his feet and started swinging aimlessly. Not
one blow connected with Padon, who had sheathed his sword and took to
hand-to-hand since the man was armed with neither a weapon nor wits.

A right, then a left whooshed past Padon’s face as he bobbed
from side to side. “Mi
piuthar
fights better than ye,” Padon taunted and
watched confused anger tighten his opponent’s features. It seemed too easy with
this one, to the point he should feel guilty, but he didn’t. It’d been way too
long since he’d had a good brawl and though this guy lacked adequate fighting
skills, it was better than nothing.

The man growled and threw his heavy body weight behind his
next series of punches. Padon caught his fists in his hands, grinned at the
man’s shocked expression then headbutted him. The redhead’s eyes crossed and he
dropped to his knees. Padon let go of his hands and the man didn’t move. He sat
there dazed and confused, rocking from side to side in super-slow motion.

He took a step away from his opponent, knowing the fight was
over. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of light had him spinning to face
Brother Leod. His jaw dropped as he saw the man’s fingertips glowing right
before a ball of flames shot at him. He tried to dodge it but wasn’t quick
enough. It hit him in the shoulder with such force he was knocked off his feet
and landed hard on his back. Burning pain made his arm twitch uncontrollably.
He grabbed his elbow to try to stop it. The back of his head hurt from where it
had collided with the floor but he had no time for aches and pains no matter
how severe. He had a demon to kill.

Dragging himself to his feet, he released his arm and drew
his sword with his uninjured hand. Intense heat filtered through the steel and
the blade seemed to glow red-hot, but he held tight though his palm begged him
to release it. The evil man stood between him and the injured redhead who
crawled from the room. Leod stepped backward each time Padon took a step in his
direction. It was obvious he was working his way to the door as soon as his
companion had cleared it. Once they both were in the hallway, the door slammed
shut between Padon and his enemies.

“Run, ye cowards,” Padon shouted through the wooden door as
he heard the locks click in place.

“I am no coward,” Brother Leod stated clearly and loudly. “I
chose to keep you alive as bait for your brothers. Soon I shall succeed in
ridding the world of your despicable clan where my ancestor miserably failed.”

Padon pressed his ear against the door and heard the echo of
Brother Leod’s footsteps fade away. The heat in his sword instantly
disappeared. He straightened. Looking at his hand, there were no permanent
burns, simply an ache from holding fast to the hilt. A trick. The bastard had played
some form of mind trick on him, making him believe his sword had become too
painfully hot to hold. He gritted his teeth in anger that he’d fallen for such
a childish prank.

Rolling his shoulder, he noted
that
was not a trick.
His skin was reddened but not blistered. It had not actually burned, just
singed him. He glared at the locked door. It had been more of a force to knock
him down rather than set him on fire. Padon spun on his heels and paced the
room. How did this demon control such magic?

He growled beneath his breath, trying to release his anger.
An angry mind gained no ground in a fight. He needed to think clearly.
Breathing deep, he did his best to soothe his angst as he sorted his thoughts.

He’d learned from Jasper that three of his
brathairs
were freed from the curse. And if his enemy were to be believed, they were
headed for a trap and he was the bait. Not if he could help it. His
brathairs
had suffered before because he had failed to kill MacGillivray on that fateful
day.

That
would not happen again, not now. Not as long as
he still breathed.

* * * * *

Lynn fidgeted at the end of the bar. A big, floppy straw hat
covered her head and she wore a comfortable flowery dress with a pair of
sandals. All the items came from a local thrift shop. Fin and Travis took her
shopping to buy clothes with a regional flair to help with her disguise. They
wanted her to blend in with the regulars at this particular bar in Edinburgh.
It’s where their little adventure began and where they felt most certain to find
Timothy, or at least information on his whereabouts.

According to Travis, Timothy’s mom hadn’t seen him in months
and suggested they try the jail or that deadbeat friend of his, Lonnie’s place.
From his explanation and expression, she could tell he was glad that call was
behind him. According to him, Timothy’s mom carried a lot of dislike for her
own child. It must have been bad because he made a promise to visit his own mom
as soon as this was over.

Lynn said a silent prayer when she thought of Lonnie. Apparently
Mr. MacIntyre’s connections through this society to protect Clan MacKinnon ran
deep. Three police officers came, collected the body and took care of the
situation. Seemed Lonnie had a long rap sheet to the point his death wasn’t
going to draw a huge investigation. The officers moved his body to the
apartment he shared with Timothy and claimed they found it there. Since Timothy
couldn’t be located, he was their number-one suspect.

She didn’t like that they twisted the story, but they did it
to protect the society. And to keep her out of an investigation that would
probably detain her in Scotland for months. As it was, she had a little over a
week left of her vacation and she hoped to spend it with Padon.

If
they found him.
Don’t think like that.
She
stared into her cup of tea. They were going to find him. He was alive. She just
knew it. Something in her gut gave her hope that Padon had not been smashed,
that he lingered in his cursed state and at nightfall, he’d awaken. This she
believed and the closer it got to dusk the more on edge she became, waiting for
that strange tingle down her spine and the electric sizzle in the air she
associated with the magic that shattered the stone.

She glanced around. This was where it all started. The pub
where Travis spun his tall tale about an ancient ghost in a cave deep within
the Grampian Mountains, and she believed it. What would have happened if she
hadn’t believed him? Padon would still be trapped in a stone casket lost in the
depths of a cave. She sighed. But at least he’d be safe, not stolen like a
piece of property and in danger of being smashed to a pulp like he was now.
Lynn took a sip of her tea and did her best to calm her nerves. She needed to
keep it together if this plan was to work. Unfortunately it all hinged on
Timothy.

Travis and Fin were separated and hidden at opposite corner
tables of the bar. If she didn’t know they sat there, she wouldn’t have seen
them due to the low light in those areas and the sizable crowd milling about
the place. Oh lordy she prayed this worked. If they were right and Timothy was
a creature of habit, then he would show up, right? Lynn forced her hand not to
shake as she sipped her tea and sat perusing the crowd for any sign of the man.

Out the front window, she saw the last rays of sun dart
behind the buildings. Warmth filled her as a familiar sensation sizzled through
her. Padon was awake. She sensed it with every fiber of her being. Lynn held
her cup with both hands and smiled into it. With him alive, there was hope for finding
him or him escaping and returning home on his own. He was strong and she had no
doubts that if he escaped, he’d make his way back to a familiar place, Castle
MacKinnon. She sat straight with the cup still in hand as an idea struck.