Read Online Midnight's Captive (Dark Warriors) by Donna Grant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Donna Grant
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“Rest assured, Mr. Bruce, we’re your friends,” Con said, as if reading his mind.
Charon stared into the black eyes of Con, but could find no deceit, no matter how deep he looked. There was cockiness, confidence, and arrogance in spades, but no treachery. It helped that he felt not a trace of any Druid magic.
He pulled in a breath and nodded. “Call me Charon.”
“Come,” Con said, and turned on his heel to walk through a doorway behind him.
Hal, Cassie, Guy, and Banan all stayed behind. Charon hadn’t asked what they did, but then again, he didn’t need to. They, along with Con, had the same look about them as the other men Charon had seen around the property.
Con was prepared. But prepared for what?
After they were shown to their seats before the large wooden desk, Con poured three glasses of whisky and handed one to Laura and one to Charon.
“Why do you want to sell Dreagan whisky?” Con asked as he took his seat behind the desk.
Charon swirled the dark amber liquid in the glass and noted the dragons carved into the corners of the desk. “It’s the best. My village may be small, but I like to give my people the best.”
“And,” Laura said with a glance at him, “the tourism plays a vital part in Ferness. It’s close enough to Inverness and Pitlochry that people pass through to see the beauty of Ferness.”
Con nodded and sipped the scotch, his gaze on Charon. “You own quite a bit of Ferness. Seems to have been in your family for … several generations.”
“Aye.” Charon stilled, Con’s words alluding to a deeper meaning. Did Con know what he was? Had the investigation already gone that deep?
“I, too, own quite a bit of land that I inherited from … family.”
Charon turned his head to look out the window to his left. The Highlands rose up around Dreagan at every turn. The sky, cloudless, was like a sea of blue that stretched endlessly across the horizon.
The way Con spoke of it, the slight hesitation told Charon Con not only knew he’d been alive for a long time, but that there might be something similar going on with him.
Warriors couldn’t always recognize other Warriors, but in the centuries Charon had been around, no Warrior had mentioned anything about Con or anyone else at Dreagan.
“Inheriting land can be beneficial,” Charon finally said.
“And sometimes difficult.”
“Sometimes.” He looked back at Con, wondering what he was alluding to and why. “You have men guarding your land.”
“Just as you do.”
Charon’s nostrils flared in anger. “I see you’ve delved deep in your investigation of me.”
“Perhaps,” Con said with a blasé shrug. “Is that no’ what men in our position do? We have others counting on us. We need to make the right choices.”
Laura put her glass on Con’s desk and stood. “I think that’s my cue.”
Charon sat forward, intending to rise with her until she held up her hand.
“No. It’s time I stepped out so you two can talk properly instead of hiding meanings in your words because you don’t want me to know.”
Charon caught her arm as she turned away. He rose to his feet and looked into her green eyes. “Laura—”
“It’s all right,” she interrupted, and smiled softly.
Her skin felt warm in his hand, smooth. She smelled of cherry blossoms from her soap, and he wanted to lean nearer and breathe it in. “Stay close.”
She pulled away, and he didn’t stop her. It wasn’t until she was out of the office, the door closed behind her, that he turned to Con. He was done beating around the bush.
“What do you know?” Charon demanded.
Con set down his now empty glass. “A lot, actually. But that is no’ why you came. You came because you want to sell my scotch.”
“I’m no’ so sure anymore. I doona like being investigated.”
Con made a sound at the back of his throat. “Charon, we’re no’ your enemy. And doona worry for Miss Black’s safety. There are fewer places on this earth where
“Rest assured, Mr. Bruce, we’re your friends,” Con said, as if reading his mind.
Charon stared into the black eyes of Con, but could find no deceit, no matter how deep he looked. There was cockiness, confidence, and arrogance in spades, but no treachery. It helped that he felt not a trace of any Druid magic.
He pulled in a breath and nodded. “Call me Charon.”
“Come,” Con said, and turned on his heel to walk through a doorway behind him.
Hal, Cassie, Guy, and Banan all stayed behind. Charon hadn’t asked what they did, but then again, he didn’t need to. They, along with Con, had the same look about them as the other men Charon had seen around the property.
Con was prepared. But prepared for what?
After they were shown to their seats before the large wooden desk, Con poured three glasses of whisky and handed one to Laura and one to Charon.
“Why do you want to sell Dreagan whisky?” Con asked as he took his seat behind the desk.
Charon swirled the dark amber liquid in the glass and noted the dragons carved into the corners of the desk. “It’s the best. My village may be small, but I like to give my people the best.”
“And,” Laura said with a glance at him, “the tourism plays a vital part in Ferness. It’s close enough to Inverness and Pitlochry that people pass through to see the beauty of Ferness.”
Con nodded and sipped the scotch, his gaze on Charon. “You own quite a bit of Ferness. Seems to have been in your family for … several generations.”
“Aye.” Charon stilled, Con’s words alluding to a deeper meaning. Did Con know what he was? Had the investigation already gone that deep?
“I, too, own quite a bit of land that I inherited from … family.”
Charon turned his head to look out the window to his left. The Highlands rose up around Dreagan at every turn. The sky, cloudless, was like a sea of blue that stretched endlessly across the horizon.
The way Con spoke of it, the slight hesitation told Charon Con not only knew he’d been alive for a long time, but that there might be something similar going on with him.
Warriors couldn’t always recognize other Warriors, but in the centuries Charon had been around, no Warrior had mentioned anything about Con or anyone else at Dreagan.
“Inheriting land can be beneficial,” Charon finally said.
“And sometimes difficult.”
“Sometimes.” He looked back at Con, wondering what he was alluding to and why. “You have men guarding your land.”
“Just as you do.”
Charon’s nostrils flared in anger. “I see you’ve delved deep in your investigation of me.”
“Perhaps,” Con said with a blasé shrug. “Is that no’ what men in our position do? We have others counting on us. We need to make the right choices.”
Laura put her glass on Con’s desk and stood. “I think that’s my cue.”
Charon sat forward, intending to rise with her until she held up her hand.
“No. It’s time I stepped out so you two can talk properly instead of hiding meanings in your words because you don’t want me to know.”
Charon caught her arm as she turned away. He rose to his feet and looked into her green eyes. “Laura—”
“It’s all right,” she interrupted, and smiled softly.
Her skin felt warm in his hand, smooth. She smelled of cherry blossoms from her soap, and he wanted to lean nearer and breathe it in. “Stay close.”
She pulled away, and he didn’t stop her. It wasn’t until she was out of the office, the door closed behind her, that he turned to Con. He was done beating around the bush.
“What do you know?” Charon demanded.
Con set down his now empty glass. “A lot, actually. But that is no’ why you came. You came because you want to sell my scotch.”
“I’m no’ so sure anymore. I doona like being investigated.”
Con made a sound at the back of his throat. “Charon, we’re no’ your enemy. And doona worry for Miss Black’s safety. There are fewer places on this earth where
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