Page 53 of Dark Seduction

This time.

Next time, there was Aidan’s infant son.

Aidan saw red. He grasped the hilt of his sword, bracing himself for battle, his heart thundering now. It was his duty to protect his lover, but he would die for his son. Moray was far more powerful than he was and his victory was certain, but if the Ancients forgave him his many sins, maybe he would discover a new power. Moray must not escape unscathed.

Surely Malcolm of Dunroch, a noble man, would protect his son from the darkness.

A serving wench he sometimes took to bed, a very beautiful fifteen-year-old lass, hurried into the room. Her eyes were glazed and Aidan immediately knew she was entranced.

“My lord.” She knelt before Moray.

Aidan drew his sword. “Nay!”

Moray looked down on her and she crumpled slowly to the floor. Aidan did not have to kneel by her to know that she was dead. His power was so great he could take an entire human life in the space of a single heartbeat.

Moray turned, but he did not look sated. Lust burned in his red eyes. “A small warning. I lose patience with every rising moon.”

Aidan breathed hard. “One day, someone will send ye to hell.”

Moray laughed, and Aidan was flung against the far wall by his invisible force. He had not expected the energy blow and he’d had no time to use his own power to dilute it. His head hit the stone and he saw stars.

When the stars vanished, Moray stood over him. “Next time, Isabel.”

Aidan struggled to his feet. “I am done with her,” he lied, careful to keep his thoughts blank. “There be someone new. Ye can take her now.”

Moray stared, and Aidan knew he was trying to lurk. Aidan changed his thoughts. Moray had fresh power now, making him even stronger than when he’d walked into the door. But that was his way. He took life the way a man took his bread. And until a great Master arose, he would continue his reign of evil, scorching the earth with fresh blood wherever he passed and turning other Innocents into demons for his hordes.

“You remain the same stubborn fool,” Moray murmured. “Your hatred does not serve you well. You know the truth. I can give you the power you dream of.”

Aidan tensed. His single ambition was power—but not for the reason everyone thought. Power was a necessary bulwark against Moray. Power was protection for himself and his infant son.

“Soon, Aidan, you will bend to me.” The red was fading from his eyes. He smiled and vanished into thin air.

Aidan shook with rage and hatred. Then he whirled and raced up the stairs to make certain Isabel was where he had left her—and that she was alive. She lay as still as a perfect statue. He went to her side and touched her breast, only to find it rising and falling in the rhythm of life. His relief knew no bounds.

He straightened.

Aidan had never hated anyone the way he hated his father.

CLAIRE DID NOT WANT to be a test, not of any kind. Not where the outcome was the possession of Malcolm’s soul. Malcolm had to be wrong. If they made love, he was not going to lose control. She turned away from Malcolm, staring out at the ocean, over the lower-lying monastery walls.

It was almost unbelievable how quickly she had bought into this terrible new world. She was grim. She wondered if she’d ever feel lighthearted again.

He came to stand behind her. “Dinna brood,” he said, his tone lighter, but with an effort. She knew he wanted to offer her some comfort. “Yer on Iona, lass, an’ I ken this be what ye have wanted. I’ll ask MacNeil if ye can see the Cathach.”

She turned. “I’d like that.” She hesitated. “Malcolm, it’s eerie. It’s almost as if Moray is hunting you now.”

His eyes flickered, but his expression did not change. It was impossible to read. “’Twas three years ago, Claire. He’s nay huntin’ me now. He’s huntin’ other game.”

Claire wished she could believe him. “What’s three years in the life span of a demon like Moray?”

Malcolm stiffened.

“What is he, five hundred years old? A thousand?”

“I dinna ken. No one does.”

Her anger finally erupted. “I hate them! I hate them all! They murdered my mother, Lorie, thousands of others, and they want you, too! Except they want you to turn. Is that the word? Turn? Is that what they call it when a Master is seduced to evil?” Her rage knew no bounds.