Page 27 of Dark Seduction

“No, I do not,” she gasped, sweating profusely now. “Do you want to frighten me?”

His expression lost its ferocity. “Ye pushed me, lass. An’ ye seduced me with a simple touch. I want t’ protect ye, but mayhap this be best. Mayhap ye need ken the way o’ life here.”

She seized the opening. “How many Masters are there?”

He made a harsh sound, stalking over to the table to pour more wine. Claire realized he was not going to give up his fellow knights.

She changed tack. “Why were we attacked? Who were those men and what did they want?”

“They were Moray’s men. Moray wants the page, Claire. He also wants me dead.”

Claire tensed, suddenly sick in her soul. “Moray is your enemy.”

“The earl of Moray be God’s enemy, Claire. He sent Sybilla to yer shop t’ find the page. He must not find the page or the book.” He added intensely, “He be yer enemy, as well.”

She could not shake the sick feeling. “I get it. The books are holy relics, really. You guys are fighting over them and you’ll kill to discover them—and to prevent your enemy from taking them.”

“The Cathach be safe in its shrine,” Malcolm said. “I be sworn t’ guard the sacred books, Claire. If the Cladich be near, I must use all me power to find it an’ return it to Iona.”

“You keep saying books. How many are there?”

“Three.”

“I know the Cathach is the Book of Wisdom, the Cladich the Book of Healing. What does the third book offer?”

“It holds every power known to the Ancients.”

Claire’s insides lurched. Somehow, she knew this was not good. “I don’t understand.”

“The Duaisean holds the power to leap time, the power to take life, the power t’ give it. In it is the power o’ minds, o’ slavery, o’ dreams. There be many more powers, too.” He was grim. “This book gives anyone its powers.”

That sounded terrifying. Of course, no book could give anyone such powers. And while she didn’t believe in these powers, he did, and so did everyone who was a part of his order. She knew the power of the mind. These Masters were probably empowered by their beliefs. Hadn’t she seen Malcolm in action on the battlefield? He’d had superhuman prowess—or that was how it had appeared.

Claire sought calm and failed. “Where is the third book?”

He simply looked at her.

Oh, my God, Claire thought. She tried to remind herself that the book had no power, but she whispered, “Your enemies have it.”

“Aye. It’s with Moray an’ it has been with him fer a long time.” He added in warning, “He has great powers, Claire, an’ nay Master has been able to defeat him.”

And Moray wanted Malcolm dead. She did not want to care—this wasn’t her affair, not at all—but if Malcolm believed Moray to be invincible, he would never defeat him. Suddenly she wasn’t excited, not at all.

Instead, she was afraid, not for herself, but for Malcolm.

WHEN MALCOLM LEFT, Claire ignored his parting words to rest. Her head was spinning—sleep would be impossible.

She turned and slowly paced the small chamber, trying to sort through everything she had learned. Malcolm was a religiously motivated knight. There was no doubt he took his vows very seriously and would probably give his life to fulfill them. The Masters had to form a secret society, otherwise they’d be prosecuted for their heretical beliefs. Still, no matter their faith, they seemed to serve mankind. That was admirable and she admired him now, even if she wasn’t sure she should.

And now she was beginning to fully understand. There was no question that the three books were incredible historical artifacts. But these men believed the books to have great powers given by the old gods. They were powerful and empowering holy relics. Of course, factions would form to fight over those relics and kill to acquire them, or to prevent them from falling into the wrong hands.

This power game had nothing to do with her—except that she owned a store filled with rare and old books and Malcolm had brought her back in time with him. And Moray’s men had tried to kill her, too. She changed her mind. This war had everything to do with her now. Somehow, she was smack in the middle of it.

What are you defending God from? What are you defending the Ancients from? What are you defending the books and people like me from?

Evil.

Claire did not want to theorize about evil in the Middle Ages. Her plate was full. Moray was probably an ambitious, ruthless and clever nobleman, and nothing more. He had the Duaisean, but he did not have extraordinary powers, no matter what Malcolm claimed. And he wasn’t her enemy—or was he?