Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Edie concealed her vehicle once more and started the long walk to the cottage. She lifted her face to the cool, damp wind, quickening her steps as she hurried across the open land, ready to be within the concealed building once more.
It wasn’t that long ago that she had been consumed with the knowledge of her husband’s affair. Her rage had been indescribable, her suffering unbearable. His betrayal had left a wound no blade ever could. It had hollowed her out in ways she hadn’t known were possible.
And just when she thought she might crack under the weight of his disloyalty, the Ancients had thrown her a lifeline.
It had come by way of Kerry, and Edie hadn’t been sure about any of it at first. But she had learned quickly enough.
Once she let go of all the pain and heartache, all the insults and despair, she turned her fury into something terrifying and powerful.
She had a purpose now, a drive she’d never had before.
All because the Ancients had seen something in her.
Edie stepped into the cottage and closed the door as the magic hiding the structure closed around her. A sigh escaped her as she leaned back against the wood. Gingerly, she touched the wound on her left side.
Sabryn had gotten off a lucky strike. A little more to the right, and Edie wouldn’t be standing here now. The injury was nearly healed. Just a little longer inside the cottage, and she would be fully back to normal. She pushed away from the door and started up the stairs.
“Edie.”
She paused at the sound of her name in her head. No matter how many times the Ancients spoke with her, it always gave her chills of excitement. “Aye?”
“You did well with Rowen.”
“She didn’t seem interested. Granted, she didn’t run away or attack, but I need another go to convince her.”
“Leave her to us.”
Edie slowly began climbing the steps again. “She has a strong connection to Mason. I saw it myself.”
“We’re aware.”
“There are also Edinburgh Druids on the isle.”
“Do not concern yourself with them. They’re serving another purpose. You have the names of those who need to be dispatched.”
Edie wished she had more details about the plan at times, but she knew why the Ancients kept them from her. They had told Kerry many things before she was captured. “I won’t let you down. Nor will I betray you. I believe in this cause.”
“We saw the fire within you long before you felt it. The inferno rages within you now. Druids have forgotten what that was like.”
“Not for much longer. I’m ready to restore our kind to the power we once commanded.” She headed toward her room and sank onto the mattress.
“Soon. Very soon. You need to let the cottage finish your healing. We need you at your best the next time you face them.”
Edie rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. “Sabryn got lucky. That won’t happen again.”
“It’d better not. And we don’t need to warn you about what will happen if you’re captured.”
She might not have seen what the Ancients did to Kerry, but she had heard about it. “I’ll kill myself before they have a chance to take me.”
Edinburgh
“I don’t like this,” Madeline grumbled for the second time as they walked toward the warehouse beneath gloomy skies. “The wanker should be coming to you, bowing at your feet and swearing his loyalty, not sending for you.”
Beth grinned at her bodyguard’s back. She didn’t really need anyone protecting her, but Madeline refused to listen. “Look around, my friend. We’re not in medieval Scotland, I’m not a queen, and I don’t have a throne.”
“Not yet.” Madeline glanced back and winked.
Beth adjusted the strap of the tote on her shoulder as they crossed the street. Her arm lay atop the open purse, one finger dipped inside to rest against the worn leather of the thick, ancient book within. It was the price the tome demanded.
Well, one of them, anyway.
Madeline halted at the door of the warehouse and turned to Beth. “He sliced George’s throat.”
“I read the article, too, remember? George wouldn’t have lasted much longer in this war. You know that.”
“I do, but a blade? We’re Druids.”
“If George wasn’t prepared for an attack, then she deserved what she got. Besides, Parker did us a favor.”
Madeline’s lips twisted. “He may not be as easy to control as George.”
“Oh, I doubt he will.” Beth felt the book pulse beneath her finger.
It desired to be opened, so that the words within could be consumed.
The book never stopped tempting her to crack open its cover and read.
She used to yield to its call, but she had begun to ignore its enticement for as long as possible.
“Parker should’ve masked how he executed George to make it look like magic was used.
Instead, he’s allowed us to know his secret.
Which means, we’ll be prepared for such an attack. ”
“I almost hope he’s stupid enough to try something today,” Madeline murmured angrily and opened the door. She stepped in first and looked around before moving aside.
Beth crossed the threshold and was enveloped by the shadowy light of the warehouse as the door closed behind her.
No sound came from Madeline’s black combat boots while the metallic tick of Beth’s heels reverberated against the concrete, each footfall announcing her presence with ruthless certainty.
Much like the book.
While Madeline blended into the shadows in her solid black attire, Beth stood out in her cream blouse and matching trousers.
She wanted all eyes on her. Gone were the days of jeans, tees, and trainers.
That time seemed a lifetime ago instead of mere months.
She was even growing out her short hair.
The ends now reached her chin. And the face she saw in the mirror no longer looked like her.
She was different, had been different from the instant she opened the book.
Even before she’d read the first line. Everyone felt the tome’s power, but no one ever spoke about the consequences.
And there was a reason for that. Because no one lived long enough.
It was something she’d discovered shortly after using the book.
Some part of her blamed her cousin for all of this. After all, it had been Bronwyn who’d started her on this journey. Soon enough, Beth would face her again.
“Eleven o’clock,” Madeline whispered. “Three o’clock.”
Beth cut her eyes in both directions and spotted the Druids watching them. There were others, too, all peering out for a glimpse of the visitors. It was unclear yet how they felt about a Brit taking over their faction. Though she was quite certain she’d discover the answer soon enough.
Light from the offices looming before them was blinding against the murky depths of the empty warehouse. A man rose from a chair and leaned against the doorway, his hands in the pockets of his custom-made suit pants. Beth felt Parker’s gaze sizing her up, much as she did to him.
If she didn’t know who he was, she’d think him attractive with his athletic, six-foot frame, thick, perfectly combed, caramel-colored hair, bright blue eyes, and charming smile. She might even be lured by his posh playboy attitude, but not for long. She preferred her men darker, edgier.
Rougher.
Beth halted before him, unfazed by his looks or the affluence he wore like someone who had been born into it.
“Delighted you could make it,” Parker said, each word dripping in refined British charm.
“That was a bold move.”
His grin widened as he gave her an appreciative look up and down. “Fortune favors the bold, does it not?”
Madeline stiffened beside her the same instant Beth saw a figure out of the corner of her eye. The buxom brunette’s hazel eyes glittered with rancor as she glowered at Beth.
“Please,” Parker said as he turned to the side and held out his arm to them. “Come inside and have a seat. I’m eager for us to become friends.”
Beth had never cared for George. They’d had an uneasy alliance that threatened to be dissolved often.
George had coveted power, demanded it. It had gotten her far, but it never would have taken her as far as she had dreamed.
George was always going to die, but Beth had thought she would be the one to snuff out her life.
Still, it was strange to see George’s uncluttered, austere industrial office transformed into something that could almost be deemed warm and inviting.
The concrete was now obscured by an enormous, red Oriental rug.
Sitting atop it against the wall to the left was a tufted leather sofa with rolled arms. Two matching tufted chairs sat on either end, facing each other, while a five-foot-square chest stood in the middle, acting as a coffee table.
To the right, where George’s beat-up, hundred-year-old metal desk had once rested, was a desk with modern legs that held up a top plucked from another century.
Behind the desk were bookshelves filled with art and various pictures of Parker with famous and influential individuals.
“Would you care for something to drink?” Parker asked. “Tea? Or perhaps something stronger?”
Beth bestowed a smile on him as she headed to the sofa. “Whatever you would like is fine.”
She sank onto a cushion and watched him pour two glasses of whisky from a nearby bar cart.
Madeline remained near the door while the brunette crept closer to Parker, but the two women continued staring at each other.
Beth dimly heard Parker talking about converting the office to his liking, but she wasn’t listening.
She was studying the brunette. Perhaps it hadn’t been Parker who’d killed George, but this woman.
“Here you go,” Parker said and set her glass on the coffee table.
She blinked and slid her gaze to him as he took the other end of the couch and sat sideways, one arm thrown over the back of the sofa and his ankle crossed over his knee.
He was a man who had been given everything from the day he was born, someone used to getting whatever he wanted.
There were so many like him wandering the world.
If she asked the book, it would tell her exactly how to kill Parker to deliver the most pain.
The tome pulsed once more, eager to give her what she wanted.
How many more times could she open it before it consumed every ounce of her soul?
Ten? Five? One? It was hard to say. Plying that kind of command created such a buzz.
But it was an addictive kind of high. Too much power was within the pages, too many spells. Too many souls had been claimed by it.
The history of the Druids was all there, written over the generations. There were secrets long forgotten, and abilities waiting to be seized.
“Do you like what I’ve done with the place?” Parker asked, his blue eyes briefly slanting toward the tote resting on the cushion beside her, the straps still on her shoulder.
“You seem to have moved in quickly.”
“There was a bit of cleanup once the authorities cleared out.” He flashed a grin. “It’s all about who you know.”
“Is this when you tell me exactly who it is you know?” she asked coolly.
He chuckled and took a sip of the liquor. “You seem like a smart woman, Ms. Stewart. I believe you can figure that out for yourself.”
“Why did you ask me here then?”
He studied her for a long, quiet moment before inhaling quickly and sitting up, leaning his forearms on his knees.
“I want to buy the book. Now, don’t attempt to tell me that you don’t know what I’m talking about, or that you don’t have it.
Every Edinburgh Druid I’ve spoken with has told me they’ve seen you with it. ”
“I’m not denying anything.”
“Good.” He smiled, self-assured and expecting to get what he wanted. “I would really hate for our relationship to start off…difficult.”
The book sent out an intense pulse that vibrated through her finger and into her hand, running up her arm to mix with her outrage and need for violence.
It was a heady, dangerous combination. Her fingers curled around the spine as she struggled against the desire to whip out the tome and show Parker just how difficult things could be.
She could picture him writhing on the floor, his screams echoing around him.
It would feel so good to put him in his place.
Slowly, she loosened her fingers and drew in a breath. It would likely end exactly as she’d pictured, but she would control that urge.
For now.
Madeline moved closer, taking Parker’s words as well as the book had.
He glanced at Madeline with cold eyes and smiled as if daring her to try something.
He honestly believed he had them cornered and at a disadvantage.
It was almost comical. Few had witnessed what the book could do.
Beth had never used it in front of George, so none of the Druids would know the extent of its dominance or authority.
She doubted Parker even knew what it could do.
He had likely heard about the book from the brunette and decided he needed it.
“How much do you want for it? A hundred thousand? Two hundred?” he offered.
Beth reached for the drink and tossed it back, letting the warmth of the whisky burn down her throat to her stomach. She set the tumbler down and slid her gaze to him. “It isn’t for sale.”
“Everyone has their price. Five hundred thousand pounds.”
Beth rose to her feet. “I’ve given you my answer. We’re finished here.”
She turned to leave and felt something pull at her tote.
There was a commotion behind her, and she shifted to see Parker flat on his back with his suit scrunched up and eyes wide with disbelief.
The brunette was crouched beside him as she stared up at Madeline, half in fear, and half to keep him down.
“How the fuck did you just do that?” Parker demanded.
Beth raised a brow as she looked at Madeline.
Her bodyguard shook her head. “It wasn’t me. He tried to take your bag.”
Beth looked down at the tote to the book inside.
It had been stolen many times. She had been the one to steal it last, but it had never fought back as it had just now.
She stroked the leather with her finger, feeling the connection between them.
It seemed it now claimed her just as she had once claimed it.
She shot Parker one last look before walking away.