Page 75 of Dark Seduction

“Aye, but there will be a first time. I asked ye t’ have faith.” His face hard and determined, showing no sign of fear, Malcolm turned and stalked out into the night.

Claire stared after him, impossibly cold. She wanted to have faith in him, but that seemed like suicide. It was better to err on the side of caution. This was a new reality and it defied the imagination.

Moray was hunting Malcolm.

Her heart lurched with sickening force.

Aidan walked over to her. “He sold his soul to Satan a thousand years ago, mayhap more, an’ his power is protected by the devil. Many Masters combined cannot take it. We have tried. Some Masters have more power than others. Moray has taken the lives o’ the lesser ones. He’ll weaken a Master with mortal blows an’ then do the evil deed. I be certain there be a mortal blow that can weaken Moray.” Aidan’s eyes burned. “I be certain. He lives in a half-mortal body. He bleeds.”

Claire stared at him, realizing that if Aidan was right, it wasn’t entirely hopeless. On the other hand, Moray was so powerful, how could such a deadly blow be wielded?

Someone handed her a glass. It was Ironheart. “Take some wine, Claire,” he said firmly. “’Twill clear yer fear. And yer wrong, lass.”

Claire met his gaze and saw nothing but resolve. His expression was identical to Malcolm’s. There was no fear, just courage.

“Malcolm has great power fer a Master so young. He will protect ye. Dinna judge him so poorly. An’ I will protect ye, too. But mostly, if there be a way, Malcolm will find it. He burns with his ambition.”

Claire took a breath. “I don’t want him to burn with ambition and wind up dead,” she said harshly. She looked at the men’s faces. For them, this was just another moment in the line of Brotherhood duty. “As you said, he’s young—too young to die. Or worse!” She swallowed. “Moray has to be stopped. Are you sure there isn’t the knowledge we need to do just that in the Cathach?”

MALCOLM STOOD on the ramparts, no longer furious, just sick in his soul.

He had brought Claire back to his time to protect her, but now, in hindsight, he knew he had made a terrible mistake. She would have been safer in her store, facing the likes of Sibylla and Aidan, than she was now. Aidan would have done nothing worse than seduce her, and armed with her modern weapons, Claire was strong enough to have fought Sibylla, perhaps even triumphing over her. Moray was an entirely different matter.

It was entirely his fault that she was now an object Moray lusted for. If he dared to closely inspect his reasons for bringing her back with him, he would have to admit that the powerful attraction he had felt for her had been as much a factor as his desire to protect her.

Moray’s threats had been clear. He planned to use Claire against Malcolm as Mairead had been used against Brogan. Royce and MacNeil had both warned him not to become fond of her, but it was too late. Suddenly, he saw Claire naked, beneath Moray, in the throes of pleasure as the other man used her and took her life.

What had he done?

What could he do now?

He needed more power and more wisdom. Three years ago he had hunted Moray, cornering him in the tower at Urquhart, and he had been easily defeated. He did not have enough power to vanquish Moray—no Master did or the Deamhan would have been sent to hell long ago. Moray had set a trap, but maybe he could be the trapper now.

Moray laughed, behind him.

Malcolm braced his power against the Deamhan and he whirled, sword ringing as he unsheathed it. It felt terribly familiar, as if that fatal dance at Urquhart was playing once more.

“Think harder, Malcolm, and you will see her begging me for more and more pleasure, which I will gladly give her. She will beg me for my seed in a frenzy of mindless need. I will come inside her a hundred times every single night. And when I send her back to you, her belly swollen with my child, she won’t want to leave me. She will hate you for taking her back.”

All reason vanished. Malcolm roared, “A Chlaire.”

Moray unsheathed his sword and met the vicious attack, smiling in delight.

Malcolm swung again and again, and it was déjà vu. In the back of his mind, he knew Moray had wanted this battle and he knew exactly why. Three years ago Moray had chosen to let him live.

He knew this was a trap.

He did not care.

Bloodlust consumed him.

He struck and Moray’s blade met his own. The swords screamed.

THE WINE HAD the precise calming effect Ironheart had hoped for, Claire thought. She had stopped shaking and she was breathing normally. The fear remained, but it was controlled. Moray was half human. Moray could bleed.

She took another sip and exhaled, closing her eyes. She was an intellectual woman. There had to be a way to reduce Moray’s powers, or to mortally wound him. Malcolm had said the demons never entered holy places, as they lost their powers there. There was an obvious conclusion to be drawn, but Moray probably knew better than to wander into a church or chapel. If he could have been lured to such a place, he would have been destroyed long ago.

Her mind turned over Aidan’s frightening words. She had been ready to believe that Moray was Satan himself, but Aidan said he had Satan’s protection, which was why his power couldn’t be taken by the Masters. Well, she believed in everything else, and she was ready to embrace Aidan’s world view now, too.