Donna Grant: Shadow Highlander

She licked her lips, wariness stealing over her for the first time, crushing her newfound excitement. She didn’t know these men, didn’t know where they had come from or what they wanted. Was this fear what she would experience once she left the village? “Many live on Loch Awe.”

“My name is Galen Shaw,” the first man said. His words were unhurried, casual. “My friend is Logan Hamilton.”

Just knowing their names eased some of Reaghan’s trepidation. She was just a step away from safety and Druids who would come running, their magic — inadequate though it was — at the ready. It gave her the courage to ask, “And what brings you to our loch, Galen Shaw?”

He grinned, sending ripples of perception through her as the corners of his eyes crinkled. “We’re looking for Druids.”

“Druids?” Reaghan’s heart fluttered like a butterfly caught in a net. So that’s what they had meant when they said they had been searching for hours.

Gazing at Galen’s handsome body made it difficult to breathe, to think, but the mention of Druids nearly choked her. No one spoke of Druids. “You realize there are no more Druids? Those who claimed the old ways were burned as pagans.”

Logan moved until he was even with Galen and gave her a teasing wink. “Aye, my lady, but we know the truth. Druids are most certainly around, and it’s verra important we speak to one.”

She wondered what they would do if she told them she was a Druid. It was the truth, though she held no magic of her own. Such was the way when Druid blood was diluted with those that had no magic. It was what was slowly becoming of her people, one reason they fought so hard to keep her among them.

“I’m afraid you gentlemen are wrong. There haven’t been Druids around here in centuries.”

“We have proof,” Galen said.

This was getting interesting. Maybe too interesting. Reaghan knew she ought to send the men away, but she was having too much fun. Besides, she liked the way her body and senses came alive with Galen. It was peculiar and terrifying, but breathtaking at the same time. “What proof?”

“Another Druid sent us.”

Galen pulled out a rolled parchment from his kilt and spread it out for her to see. Reaghan recognized it as a drawing of the loch. She raised her gaze to his and found him watching her closely.

“That only proves someone has been to the loch and can draw.”

“True enough. Except it was a Druid who told us we could find the village of Druids here,” he said, and pointed to the spot on the map where her village sat.

Reaghan didn’t know what to say. Her fellow Druids had long thought there were no more of them out in the world, that they were the last. The parchment Reaghan had found the other day proved there had been other Druids, but there was no evidence those Druids still existed.

She wanted to know. She had to know. If there were more Druids, she was going to find them.

“Reaghan.”

Startled, she turned her head to find Odara, one of three elders, to her left. Odara stood like a bent soldier with her stooped shoulders pulled back and her graying red head held high. She was only able to look down at the men with her green eyes because of her vantage on the slope.

“These men claim to be searching for a Druid village,” Reaghan told her.

Galen nodded and again pointed to the location on the map. “A Druid sent us. Isla promised we would find a Druid village here.”

For long moments Odara silently measured the men, her green gaze moving first to Galen then to Logan.

It was Logan who finally spoke. “We can feel your magic. We know we’ve found the Druids.”

Reaghan’s blood drummed deafeningly in her ears as his words sank in. They could feel the magic of the Druids? Who were these men? And what did they want with Druids? She suddenly began to doubt her wisdom in talking to them. Had she just put everyone in terrible danger?

“Please,” Galen said. “We would like to talk to the elders. It’s extremely important.”

Odara sighed and clasped her hands in front of her. “Do you expect me to take your word for it, young man? That you can feel magic?”

Logan coughed to cover his laughter as Galen sent him a warning glare. Reaghan couldn’t take her eyes off them. It was fascinating to watch how they interacted with each other. The young men of her village had long ago departed, so this was all new to her.

“Young man?” she heard Logan say on a choked whisper.

She had no idea why Logan would find that amusing, but obviously he did.

“I doona lie,” Galen told Odara. “We’re here in an effort to fight Deirdre.”

At the mention of the name, Odara sucked in a breath, and her hands began to shake. Her gaze darted around, as if at any moment, Deirdre would jump from behind a tree. “What do you know of her?”

“Too much,” Logan muttered angrily.

Those two words, laced with such revulsion along with a hint of anxiety, was enough to make Reaghan believe them. It wasn’t just the words, though. She had always had the ability to tell when someone was lying to her if she could look them in the eye. Galen and Logan weren’t lying. About any of it.

Reaghan was more intrigued than ever. She had heard stories of Deirdre before, the drough who wanted to rule the world. It was one of the reasons her village was hidden, why they were wary of strangers.

“Odara, I think we should listen to them,” Reaghan whispered.

Odara, who knew of Reaghan’s ability, let out a deep breath and nodded her head as she looked to Galen and Logan. “Stay with Reaghan. I will return.”

Once Odara walked away, Reaghan opened her mouth to begin asking the men many and varied questions. She wanted to know as much as she could before the elders returned and seized the men’s attention.

“It was your magic we felt.”

Galen’s words halted any questions Reaghan had thought to ask. The skill to sense lies or truth wasn’t magic. Reaghan had tried magic. She had none. “You’re mistaken. I have no magic.”

The falcon gave a loud cry above them, its shrill call echoing around the forest and loch. Reaghan paid the bird little heed. She was too shaken by Galen’s words. She wished it were her magic he had sensed, but she knew firsthand there was no magic to speak of inside her. She was a Druid with no power.

A pity, that. She would have liked to be a part of whatever Galen and Logan had come to her village for. To be a part of something meaningful, something that changed the world, appealed to her in ways she never expected.

It wouldn’t matter anyway. As much as the men captivated her, once the remaining women spotted the new arrivals, Reaghan would be forgotten. And that was for the best, especially since she was about to leave on her own adventure.

It was all working out perfectly. Mairi and the other elders would be occupied with Galen and Logan, leaving Reaghan free to depart without any fuss. Reaghan didn’t like the prospect of a long farewell.

“We’re never mistaken,” Logan said, his voice breaking into her thoughts.

Galen’s brilliant blue eyes held hers. She was caught, trapped in his gaze, and she found she didn’t mind at all. “Your magic is very strong. You just don’t know it yet.”

Galen couldn’t take his eyes off Reaghan. The last thing he had expected to see while hunting the Druids was a woman so striking, so breathtaking he doubted his own sanity for a moment.

As soon as he had seen her, as soon as her remarkable deep gray eyes locked with his, the attraction had been instantaneous. Urgent. All-consuming.

In all his years, Galen had never felt something that seemed so … right.

It wasn’t until she spoke in a soft, sensual voice that he knew she was real. That and the fact Logan seemed as taken aback as he.