Anita Clenney - Heart Of A Highland Warrior

“They haven’t spotted us,” Ronan said. “Slip out one at a time.”

“What about Voltar and Tristol?” Tavis said. “We can’t just let them go.”

“If we’re lucky,” Anna said, “they’ll kill each other.”

* * *

“What have you done with my fortress?” Tristol roared. “It’s gone.”

“I didn’t do anything with it,” Voltar said. With the fortress. He’d done plenty with the inhabitants, vile creatures.

“You killed my vampires. Slaughtered them.”

“They were an abomination. You are an abomination. Part vampire, part demon.” Voltar spat. “You sicken me.”

“You’re stuck in the Dark Ages. You should have learned your lesson with that damned minion you had decades ago.”

“He was brilliant,” Voltar said. “One of the few humans worth a damn.”

“He was an animal. He tortured and killed for no reason. You need to wake up and realize that times have changed over these hundreds of years.”

“Hundreds of years for me. Far longer for you. Does the Dark One know you’re two thousand years old? Or have you tricked him too?”

“We will finish this battle,” Tristol said. “If you breathe a word of this to the Dark One, I’ll kill the thing closest to your heart.”

There was nothing close to Voltar’s heart except his desire to kill Tavis. “The warrior? Kill him. I don’t care.”

“Not him,” Tristol said. “Her.”

“A woman close to my heart. I don’t think so.”

Tristol frowned. His face was more beautiful than any woman’s. Maybe that was part of the reason Voltar had hated him for so long, even before he’d known Tristol’s secret. He reminded Voltar of a woman. “You don’t know,” Tristol said.

“Know what?”

“That you have a daughter.”

“A daughter?” Voltar laughed. “Do you think I would spawn a female? I would kill her first.”

The door opened, and four of Voltar’s demons came in. “Did you know the female warrior was here, Anna?” one of the demons asked. “There were several warriors with her.”

Voltar turned on Tristol. “You brought warriors to my home.” He pulled out a square box. It was similar to a stun gun, but this one had been altered by a sorcerer. Voltar hated sorcerers too, but they had their uses at time. He fired the stun gun at Tristol. The current hit him, and Tristol froze. Voltar waited to see if he would move, but he stood there with the same expression on his face, hands and body positioned exactly as they had been a second before. Voltar walked closer and circled his enemy. He didn’t move, didn’t blink or breathe. Voltar laughed. “It worked. The Dark One’s pet is nothing but a statue. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to kill you, and I’ll rule the world.” His plans to get rid of the President had been foiled by Jamie and that stupid woman and the cat, but he would try again.

HURRY,” ANNA SAID. They all piled in the car, and as it would happen, Anna was seated next to Tavis. Neither of them had planned it. In fact, he was sure Anna would have sat somewhere else if she’d had a choice.

This was going to be awkward. “Are you all right?” he asked. Duncan drove the car onto the road so quickly that Anna was thrown against Tavis.

She quickly sat up and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m fine. Have you seen Faelan?”

“Aye. Thank you for putting me in the crypt. For leading Voltar away from me.” A bloody stupid thing for her to do, but he appreciated the effort and the thought.

“You’re welcome. I’m sure he was happy to see you.”

“And surprised. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Of course,” she said stiffly.

This wasn’t the woman who’d tended his wounds and cared for him. Stuffed her blanket through the bars of the cell to keep him warm. Helped him piss in a cup. He still cringed to think of that. This woman was distant. Cold.

“Time for explanations,” Ronan said. “Why didn’t you call for help?”

“I didn’t have a phone.”

“Why didn’t you get one?”

“I didn’t have time. I got captured the night I talked to you.”

“If you’d had a phone, you could have called us, and we would have stormed his bloody fortress,” Ronan said.

“Do you want to hear what happened or not?”

“Tell us,” Duncan said.

“After I left Tavis in the crypt, I tried to lure Voltar away.” Anna glanced at Tavis. “He followed me, and then I lost him. Tristol showed up a few minutes later. He wanted to know what I’d done with his fortress.”

“He thinks you took it?” Ronan asked.

“Not anymore. He thinks Voltar did it.”

“So Tristol, hell’s favorite son, brings you to Voltar’s penthouse? Why?” Duncan asked.

“He hoped I’d kill Voltar for him. He doesn’t like Voltar very much. I gathered that the feeling is mutual.”

“I guess he doesn’t know a warrior has to be assigned,” Lachlan said.

“Or doesn’t care,” Duncan said. “Tristol must know Anna’s strong. Even if she wasn’t assigned to Voltar, she could do some damage. I doubt Tristol cares whether that monster kills her too.”

“Tristol has some interesting abilities,” Anna said. “He can walk on holy ground. He can touch a talisman and not get burned. And he can fly.”

“I take it you don’t mean he’s a pilot,” Lachlan said.

“No, like a bird. We passed an airplane.”

“A demon who can fly.” Ronan shook his head. “What the hell?”

“Maybe he’s some kind of special demon,” Duncan said. “They say he’s the Dark One’s favorite. Maybe he’s given him some other powers.”

The warriors exhausted the possibilities about Tristol’s strange powers, and the conversation drifted to the best shortcut back to the airport.

“Why are you being so bloody stiff?” Tavis whispered softly to Anna. He understood that she must still be troubled over what had happened, but she’d felt enough for him to help him escape, to risk her own life to make sure Voltar didn’t find him.

She turned her head and glanced at him. Barely. She licked her lips. “It’s been a long day.”

Tavis didn’t speak much for the rest of the trip. He concentrated on the feel of Anna’s leg pressed against his, though she was doing everything but clinging to the door to put some space between them. When they got to the plane, she waited until he sat, and then sat behind him. He mused over the situation as they flew back to the Albany castle. It was highly irritating to have her behaving so brusquely when they’d been so close in the dungeon. He glanced back at her in irritation and saw her watching him with stark fear on her face.

* * *

She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. She was still trembling from the ride in the car. The feel of his body so close to hers reminded her of the other time when his body had been close to hers. Inside hers. But before that. Before the guard came and saw them…She’d never felt anything like having him kiss her and touch her. Her excuse was that it was the drug the guard had given her, but she wasn’t drugged now, and she still couldn’t get him out of her head.

Tavis turned and looked at her then. He held her gaze a moment, then clenched his jaw and looked away. He was hurt. And worried. She could see it in the slope of his shoulders. Wide shoulders. Beautiful shoulders. Beautiful chest. Would she ever get the image of that damned soapy washcloth out of her head? She knew he felt something for her. Probably just gratitude and lust. She always got the lust.

That was the part that frightened her. Not physically. Mentally. Sex represented control. Loss of control for her. Wielding control for him. Not him. She closed her eyes in frustration. Tavis hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t the one who’d raped her mother and left her pregnant with a child she didn’t want but was unwilling to abort. Tavis wasn’t the one who’d trained her, mentored her, and when she’d begun to trust him like the father she never had, wanted her to show appreciation for his work. Appreciation with her body.

Sex sucked. Love sucked.

Didn’t it? What about Ronan? That hadn’t sucked. Bad timing. Wrong person. But it hadn’t been bad. Just awkward. And Tavis…before the guard came, that had been amazing. She wasn’t being fair to him. They’d shared some kind of connection in the dungeon. Maybe just because they were both prisoners trapped and scared, but she’d felt something for him that she’d never felt for a man before. The thought of exploring it made her sick to her stomach.

* * *

When they reached the castle, Faelan came charging out to meet the plane. “He looks like an angry bull,” Ronan said.

Tavis knew that look too well. “Aye. I’ll handle him.” When he was pissed the only thing to do was to confront him head-on.

“Good,” Lachlan said, shutting himself in the cockpit when Faelan started pounding on the door to the plane.

Tavis had to wait for Ronan to open it. He couldn’t figure out how to get out of the confounded thing.

Faelan stood there, his hands clenched, eyes frightened. “You just leave without telling me? Go off on some bloody mission without a word? You’ve just come back from the dead.”

“I had to do it. Lance said I had to come alone.”

“Alone?” His incredulous glance swept over the others, who were looking at their feet, twiddling their thumbs. Lachlan was watching from the window in the front of the plane.

“They weren’t supposed to be there,” Tavis said. “They waylaid me.”

Ronan jumped down and stood next to Tavis. “Lance told him he had to come alone or he wouldn’t take him to Anna.”

“You found Anna?”

“Aye. I didn’t want him going alone, so I followed,” Ronan said. “Same with Shane and Duncan.”