Surrender: Immortal Protectors, Book 2 Page 5

  Wendy yelped in shock but didn’t move, not sure which direction they’d go next.

  Kieran held Fallon by the collar and backhanded him across the face. Fallon’s nose shifted slightly off center with a popping sound. Before he could hit him again, Fallon bucked him off, and they rolled across the floor, fists flying.

  Hector entered and went directly to Wendy. He helped her up and half-carried her out of the library.

  Once they were in the hallway, Hector spoke to her, his voice calm, “Are you alright, Miss O’Sullivan? Let me help you to your room.”

  Not sure what to say, Wendy nodded and allowed him to take her arm. The sound of something breaking made her jump, and she looked back toward the library.

  “Shouldn’t you break them up or something?” Wendy asked as they moved to the elevator. “They’re going to hurt each other.”

  “They’ll tire out soon enough,” Hector replied lightly, as if talking about the weather.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The last punch to his gut had knocked the wind out of him. Kieran lay sprawled on his back on the floor, trying to catch his breath. He wiped at his lip, smearing blood onto the back of his hand.

  Fallon had collapsed next to him, his face smashed comically into the carpet. Blood flowing from his broken nose stained the ornate carpet.

  The Brit shouldn’t have mistreated Wendy, true, but Kieran had definitely overreacted. What the hell was the matter with him?

  “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” Fallon bit out through clenched teeth. “You broke my nose! I want your ass out of my house.”

  “It’s been at least two days since you last kicked me out. I’m glad you hate having me here as much as I hate having to be here.”

  “It’s a hundred years old,” Fallon told him, his tone even as usual and his change in the direction of the conversation irritating Kieran.

  “What the hell are you talking about now?”

  “The carpet you’re bleeding all over. It’s over a hundred years old.”

  “Send me the damn cleaning bill. And you are bleeding on it more than I am.”

  “Damn right, I will.” Fallon cupped his nose with both hands and popped it back into place.

  Kieran got up and offered Fallon his hand, which the Brit slapped away. Fallon got up slowly. Kieran noticed with satisfaction that he flinched and gingerly touched his jaw.

  After surveying the damage to the room, Fallon poured two glasses of scotch, gave one to Kieran, and downed his own.

  “Are you going to tell me why you’re so overly protective of the lady?”

  “I warned you from the start that it was a bad idea to allow her to stay here. I can’t allow anyone to mistreat a female. Call it a curse if you will.”

  “Right. The fact of the matter is that we cannot wipe her mind, can barely read it. I could hear the damn songs she was singing in her head only because she was projecting it to cover her thoughts. She also projected a few other thoughts but then stopped when she realized it.”

  Kieran didn’t reply. Does she remember the first demon attack? Does she remember me?

  “I’m going to have to speak to Cyn about this. I am interested in how much more she knows,” Fallon continued.

  “From what I understand, she and Emma have been friends for several years. If she’s known that long, it may not be possible to erase her memories,” Kieran replied. “Damn it, why did they bring her here?”

  “I need to exercise the horses. Care to join me?” Fallon asked with his usual abrupt change of subject matter.

  In spite of the prospect of spending more time in the Brit’s company, Kieran loved horses. “Let’s go.”

  The house was so quiet. The sound of her uneven footsteps seemed to echo on the wooden floors of the hallway as Wendy made her way back to her room. She’d made one last trip to the kitchen to ensure all her baked goods were properly stored.

  When she reached for the doorknob, an icy chill traveled over her body. She shivered and peered around nervously. It felt as if someone had brushed against her. I’m probably still jumpy from the attack. And she’d always had an over-active imagination.

  Upon walking into her room, she relaxed. Everything was just as she’d left it.

  It was much later, after showering, that Wendy snuggled into the plush bed. Glancing at the clock on the side table, she realized it was far too late to call Emma. She needed to talk to her. Tell her the Protectors knew her secret. Come morning, she’d call, and together they would figure something out.

  She bit her lip, recalling the two brutes brawling in the library. Just as Hector predicted, not even ten minutes later, from her bedroom window, she had seen them walking across the lawn together. Fallon had seemed to be explaining something to Kieran, his hands gesturing with each word. They had probably been trying to figure out what to do about her.

  Kieran had nodded to whatever it was the other man said. Obviously, neither held a grudge for long.

  Wendy’s eyelids grew heavy, and she yawned. Yes, everything would be better after she got a good night’s rest. Just as she reached for the lamp, movement from the corner of the room caught her eye. A shadow moved slowly, tactfully. Without thinking, Wendy flew out of her bed, hobbled through the door, and raced down to Kieran’s room as fast as she could manage.

  “There’s something in my room,” Wendy whispered as she shook the sleeping Kieran, shoving at his shoulder.

  The shock of how fast he moved made Wendy yell. Wearing only boxers, his hair in a mess, and sword in his hand, he immediately looked ready to kill.

  “Stay here,” he commanded, moving into the hallway without a sound.

  Wendy lifted her throbbing foot and hopped on the other one. With the only light coming from the full moon, Kieran’s bedroom was full of shadows. “I’m not staying here.” She followed after him.

  Kieran was about to go into her bedroom when he turned to watch her. The lowering of his brows and the intensity of his glare more than informed her that he wasn’t pleased that she did not obey his order. He gave a resigned shake to his head and motioned for her to move against the wall. Instead, she moved into his back. Fear refused to let up, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into his warmth, moving along with him.

  Slowly, they went to her doorway. Upon entering, Wendy gave him room and stayed back. He broke into the room with dizzying speed, his sword slashing through the air.

  The tingle on the back of his neck told him some type of being had been nearby. He scrutinized every inch of the bedroom and lost the sense of its presence. All of the sudden, the sense of its presence simply vanished. Impossible.

  Fallon’s home was practically impregnable. The ten-feet-tall, iron-spike-topped stone walls were the first obstacle, followed by an invisible electric fencing system. If someone managed to get past those, the house’s security system, not to mention the temperature sensors installed by Cyn’s techno-guru son, Blue, would pick up any foreign activity, and alarms would go off in Fallon and Kieran’s rooms.

  He didn’t believe in ghosts, but in this instance, that seemed to be the only explanation.

  Moving to the window, Kieran threw it open and looked out. The light of the full moon combined with his enhanced night vision allowed him to see clearly that there was no one outside.

  The warmth of Wendy’s hand on his back made him inhale sharply. He ignored his reaction to her touch and continued scanning the yard below. Finally, convinced it was safe, he closed the window and turned to face the trembling woman.

  Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears. The fast blinking made it evident that she was fighting not to lose it. Her bottom lip quivered, and she bit it in an attempt to control the trembling while she wrapped her arms around herself. Hold her.

  “There’s no one here. Maybe you had a bad dream.” He winced at the huskiness of his voice. She stood too close to him, her body heat spreading into him.

  “I could swear I saw someone or something in my ro
om.” She looked away toward the far corner of the room. “Over there in that corner,” she finished weakly.

  Kieran walked around the room once again, looked under the bed and checked the bathroom, taking his time to make sure she was at ease. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror in nothing but boxers, he groaned.

  Great.

  When he returned to the bedroom, Wendy stood in the same spot, her huge teary eyes glued to his face. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

  The question hung in the air between them.

  Not sure what to do, he hesitated in answering. He hadn’t slept overnight with a woman, in the same room since…Well, he wasn’t going there, but he couldn’t think of a reason to say no. Not without sounding like a complete asshole. What else is new?

  He motioned toward the door. When she took a couple steps and winced, he felt bad and picked her up, carrying her out of the room.

  The combination of her soft skin against his and the floral scent of her hair had an immediate unwelcome effect on him. Shifting her higher, Kieran ensured that she wouldn’t detect his aroused state. He shifted his gaze down and instantly locked onto the perfect view down the front of her sleep shirt. Her breasts moved with each breath, and every movement pulsed straight through him. The gasp and her hand pulling her neckline closed brought his eyes back to her face. She’d caught him looking down her shirt.

  “You can put me down.”

  He ignored her request and entered his room, then went to his bed, leaned as far over as he could, and dropped her onto it. Before she could notice the bulge in the front of the boxers, he stalked to the bathroom.

  “Where are you going?” By the tremble in her voice, she was still terrified.

  He replied with his back to her. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  In the bathroom, Kieran debated whether to take a quick cold shower or take the matter in hand. He chose the first option and jumped in under the cold stream.

  Wendy shivered, her eyes shifting between the closed bathroom door, the bedroom doorway, and the window. Clutching the blanket to her chest, she wondered why the man was taking shower at a time like this. A demon could come in and kill her while he washed his butt.

  When the door opened, her stomach did a flip at the sight of his glistening wet chest. The boxers low on his hips showcased his wide muscular shoulders and chest, which tapered down to his slender waist.

  With quick, jerky movements, Kieran lay down on top of the blankets, closed his eyes, and placed his hands above his head under the pillow. With one leg hanging off the side, it seemed as if he was trying to stay as far away from her as possible.

  Not sure exactly what to do, she did what came naturally and began to talk.

  “I’m positive I wasn’t dreaming. Someone or something was in my room. It moved around like it was a burglar or something. You don’t look comfortable. If you want, I can move over further.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Really?” She peered at him. “You can have some of the blanket. It’s going to be hard for you to go to sleep with your leg hanging over the edge like that.”

  “I assure you, I am fine. The sooner you stop talking, the faster I can go to sleep.”

  “Oh. Okay, well, good night.”

  Right. Sleep, Wendy thought as she turned away from him and faced the wall. The combination of the earlier fright and the sounds of Kieran’s even breathing kept her on edge.

  Hearing a soft snore only a few minutes later, she turned to look at him. How could he have fallen asleep so quickly? Men.

  The moonlight coming through a small gap in the curtains provided enough light for her to study him. Long lashes reached to the top of his cheeks, and his nose had a slight crook in it, evidence that it had been broken in the past. Her gaze traveled from the slightly parted full lips to his strong chin. She reached out with a finger and held it just above his mouth, his warm breath tantalizing her skin. How many times she’d dreamt of kissing those lips. Not taking the chance of waking him, she reached over and caressed the tips of his hair instead. It was silky.

  Wendy wondered if he ever looked this relaxed when awake, probably not. Kieran kept the walls that surrounded him solid and high. Always on edge, this man was definitely not the tranquil, chill-out-and-relax type.

  When her eyes traveled to his magnificently defined chest, she itched to reach out and touch him again. No doubt he’d probably chop her hand off. She hadn’t noticed where the sword was stashed, but surely, it was within his reach.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kieran woke with a start. Someone was in his room, and his right arm was trapped under something. He heard a muffled sound and turned his head cautiously to the other side of the bed.

  His eyes widened. Wendy.

  Fast asleep.

  On his arm.

  She lay curled away from him, using his arm for a pillow. Her hand was in his, her fingers curled tightly around it.

  Security. Women needed reassurance.

  By her deep breathing, he knew she was fast asleep. He didn’t have the heart to wake her, so he lay back into the pillow and closed his eyes, allowing her warmth to seep through him.

  He’d actually fallen asleep with her there. When was the last time he’d slept next to a woman?

  He exhaled. He remembered the last time quite clearly.

  # # #

  Scottish Highlands, 1654

  Morning arrived too soon. Again.

  Kieran dragged himself out of bed. The nightmares had been horrific that night, allowing for very little rest. His oversized body still felt new and cumbersome, although it’d been almost ten years since his transition into an enormous immortal warrior.

  His foul mood worsened when he noticed that Catarina was already gone; her side of the bed proved cool to the touch. As usual, she’d pretended to sleep when he came to bed last night and hurried out of their bedchamber in the morning before he woke.

  A cool breeze came through the window, reminding him that winter approached. There was a lot to be done to prepare the clan for the coming frigid season.

  He made his way over to a tall table, which held a basin of water and linens. The splash of the cold water cooled his heated face. After he washed up, he dried using a clean cloth. Dressed, he walked out, intent on breaking his fast. The sooner he could leave the keep, the more he would get done.

  “Good morning, Kit,” Malcolm, his older brother and Laird of the Fraser clan, greeted him with the nickname that always reminded him of their brother Cyn, the only other person to call him that.

  Malcolm also came out of his own bedchamber, but unlike Kieran, his brother appeared rested and sported the satisfied look of a man whose wife ensured his needs were met.

  “Indeed, I slept very well.” Malcolm smiled at him, obviously reading his thoughts. Malcolm’s dark green eyes narrowed at him with a curious look. “Come, we must speak.”

  Wondering what weighed on his brother’s mind, Kieran followed him downstairs and into the library in silence.

  “We have to do something about your situation.” Malcolm began talking as soon as the door closed behind them. “You look unwell. I should have never allowed you to marry that woman.” His brother paced the room, his hands behind his back. At six feet tall with a warrior’s build, Malcolm’s presence filled the room. His intelligence and love for the clan, however, flowed over the entire castle.

  “You should have accepted your calling when Julian came for you. Catarina isna’ a good wife for you.”

  Kieran tried to come up with a response. Regrets didn’t help the situation, he was married, and there was no going back now. “Our clan needed to join with theirs. It was imperative in order to defend ourselves against the damn MacDougal’s…”

  “I know the reason, but you canna' continue like this. You are constantly volunteering to go to battle. When you leave the battlefield, you leave a path of destruction with nary a mark on your body. Kit, the men think you’re the Berserker, for God�
�s sake.”

  Kieran waited on his brother to continue, wondering where the conversation was headed.

  “You need a leman.”

  “I don’t need you to get me a woman. I have a wife!” Kieran bit out, hating himself for blushing like a schoolboy. Was it that obvious that he didn’t make love to his wife? Tired of her lying stiffly under him, he rarely sought her in bed any more.

  “It’s an accepted practice. Many men have them.”

  Giving up the pretense, Kieran sat back and allowed fatigue to take over his body. He slumped into the chair. “The nightmares are bad sometimes. I can’t sleep, scared that they’ll begin. On the other hand, I don’t want to stay awake lying next to Catarina. I can’t always fight against the need to be with her. Some nights I take her but only as a last resort. Her mewling and hysterics make it hard to…,” he stopped talking and closed his eyes.

  When Malcolm spoke, fondness rang in his deep voice. “For whatever reason, our family has been chosen by the gods for this duty. To become immortal demon slayers. As Da explained it, there is usually one of us called in each generation. It’s a painful transition, I know, both physically and mentally. I don’t know why this time it’s two, both you and Cynden.”

  Malcolm rubbed the back of his neck. “When Cyn went through the change, no serving wench was safe from his bed. When they were too tired or hid from him, other clanswomen were more than eager to share their beds with him. Even then, he was hard to live with, his emotions always so unstable. Of course, I took him on the road with me as often as possible to give the womenfolk a rest. I suspect it can’t be easy to go through this alone for so long, Kit. All these years, you have managed to keep it under control, but I worry.”

  Kieran stood up and met his brother’s gaze. “I will take the leman. Now, I’m going for a swim. The frigid water should help for now.”