Page 65 of Dark Rival

Allie stared at his gorgeous face. “Demons destroy. They don’t heal.”

Royce made a sound. “Moffat’s armies have been growin’ these past few years.”

Allie shivered, suddenly terribly cold. “Royce, in my time, the demons are out of control. Every year there are more pleasure crimes. Every year there are more demons.”

She didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was thinking. Either the true demons had found a way to radically increase their reproduction rate, or they weren’t being vanquished in the same numbers as before. If the latter were true, was it because a very high demon, even Satan himself, had found a way to heal the evil hordes?

“No demon can be allowed to have such power,” Allie finally said.

“Aye.”

And that meant that if Moffat or another powerful demon had any holy pages, the Masters would have to regain them. “Royce, did my mother use the Book?”

“O’ course she did. Centuries ago, when it was enshrined on Iona, she used it all the time.” He smiled briefly. “T’was a different world, Ailios. The Ancients had great power an’ we could worship openly. Now an’ then, the gods would even walk amongst us—or help us in our battles with the deamhanain.”

Allie smiled, imagining a near paradise on Iona. “I wish the gods would walk among us now.”

“Our scholars claim they have been forsaken by man—an’ have lost their great powers because of it. T’is why, they say, they do not come to earth now. But Claire an’ Malcolm believe Faola helped them vanquish a great deamhan, the greatest Alba has ever seen.”

Allie pulled her horse to a halt, facing Royce, so he halted, too. Everyone pulled up. “They fought together? They vanquished a great demon together?”

“Aye, they did.” He stared unwaveringly at her. “I feared for Malcolm when he met her. The Code frowns on marriage. A Master must stand alone. But Claire has her own power—an’ he’s stronger with her than alone.”

“Of course they’re stronger together,” Allie cried.

He gave her an odd look, spurring his charger forward. Allie followed and trotted to come abreast of him. “Wait a minute. Masters aren’t supposed to marry?”

“Aye.”

“But Malcolm married—and so did you! You said my brother is married, too!”

“Malcolm is an exception to the rule. As for the Black Macleod, I dinna ken him well.” His jaw flexed. “My marriage was a great mistake. I was young an’ foolish. I married Brigdhe before I was chosen. She paid the price for it.” With that, suddenly impatient, he raised his arm. “Ye wish to talk, do so at Dunroch. Otherwise we’ll nay be there by nightfall.” He spurred his mount into a canter, his men following.

Allie sat still, thinking about everything she had just learned. His wife’s name was Brigdhe. Pain filled her as she thought about the woman. In that instant, she knew something terrible had happened to her.

“Ailios!” Royce’s voice cut through the forest, razor sharp.

Allie jerked back into the present. Royce was dead-set against her, and finally, she was beginning to understand why.

AFTER LEAVING THE HORSES on Morvern soil, they were rowed by six of the men across the sound and to the island of Mull’s south shores. As they trekked up a steep, rocky path, Allie saw Dunroch above them, as gray as the rocks it sat upon, shrouded in a thick, swirling Atlantic mist.

A short while later, Royce extended his hand to help her up the last part of the treacherous ascent. They passed through the narrow, high walls of a barbican over a lowered drawbridge and through a large, circular gate tower. Allie found herself inside an inner bailey, the walls of the castle to her left, the walls to her right containing a lower ward. The inner ward was busy and Allie was now used to the sight of Highland men and women coming and going, often accompanied by livestock, the men usually well armed. As they approached another gatehouse, a tall, dark man stepped out.

Royce smiled. “Hallo a Chalium.”

The man grinned, striding forward, impossibly more muscular than Royce, and even an inch or two taller. Allie did a double-take because he was so utterly gorgeous. “Ruari.” He embraced Royce briefly.

Allie watched Royce and his nephew, gladdened by their obvious bond of affection and caring. He was not entirely alone in this world, even without her, and that pleased her immensely.

“I see yer watch is on their toes,” Royce said.

“Aye. Ye wouldn’t be happy waitin’ for my bridge to go down.”

Malcolm turned his dark, interested gaze upon her. “An’ who’s yer guest?”

Allie was surprised when Royce took her arm, almost possessively, guiding her forward. “Meet Lady Ailios, Malcolm. Ailios, my nephew.”

Allie extended her hand. “Hi. It’s Allie. Allie Monroe.”