Free Midnight's Promise by Donna Grant Page B

impersonal and desolate, but not to her. “You can’t hear them. The stones, that is. They’re alive to me. They whisper of deer on their slopes, of tourists who climb as far up as they dare to take pictures. They will warn me if someone enters. There isn’t another place on this earth I would be as safe.”
    “Safe from whoever you think you’re running from. But how protected is your soul?”
    She blinked and turned her gaze to him. This was new, but she could see it wasn’t a bluff. He truly believed it. “You think my soul is in danger?”
    “Malicious debauchery called this place home for a millennium. What do you think? You think evil that deep, that awful wouldna penetrate the stones and the earth?”
    Evie rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Even with her sweater, a chill descended upon her she couldn’t shake. “I couldn’t even begin to answer that. Not without the facts. I’m not asking for anything other than the tale you obviously seem a part of. If you want me gone, the best way to do it is convince me. Start by telling me of Deirdre.”
    The seconds ticked by without Malcolm showing any inclination that he’d even heard her. Evie shook her head and started back into the sitting room to return to her computer.
    Except Malcolm straightened and blocked the doorway. He didn’t just block it, he filled the entire thing. Evie was reminded again of the strength she felt when she had tried to push against all those chiseled muscles.
    She longed to brush back the lock of hair over his forehead. He stood so rigid, so unyielding that he appeared not to need—or want—anyone’s touch. So she kept her hands to herself.
    And it was difficult. She longed to run her hands over his chest and wide shoulders to feel his strength and warmth again. That brief instant had been enough to lure her, entice her. Rigid control leashed him, and Evie had a sudden desire to see him break free.
    She looked up into unblinking azure eyes and wondered how it would feel to have his lips on hers.
    “How long have you known you were a Druid?” he asked.
    His question surprised her enough that it took her a second to form a thought. “Since I was old enough to understand what magic was.”
    “What do you know of the history of Druids?”
    Evie grimaced. “That’s just it. I don’t know anything of Druids other than what my mum taught me before … Well, after that my grandmum took over my teaching, little that it was. I know magic enough to defend myself if need be, but I was always taught never to use magic unless it was absolutely necessary.”
    Without a sound, Malcolm turned on his heel and walked into the sitting room. She hastily followed, thinking he was leaving only to find him standing to the side of one of the chairs, his back to her.
    Evie lowered herself onto the sofa and let her eyes soak up more of Malcolm Munro. Danger rolled off him in waves, coming nearer and nearer to her, almost daring her to get close to him.
    Despite that, she didn’t feel threatened. He set her on edge with his feral attitude and too-sexy body, but it wasn’t enough to force her to use magic on him. Not when all she really wanted to do was pull him down for a kiss and to stroke the hard sinew.
    “Druids used to be revered and respected.” Malcolm’s voice filled the small chamber with his silky timber. “They were teachers, healers, and counsel to the clan leaders. It was an honor for a clan to have a Druid in its midst. Every laird did what they had to do to earn the companionship of a Druid.”
    Evie settled back against the sofa, eager to hear more.
    “Those Druids were the mies . They were content to channel the magic they were born with.”
    “There cannot be good without evil,” Evie said, repeating something her grandmother had drilled into her.
    Malcolm turned to her. “Aye. Droughs . They are the Druids who wanted more—more power, more strength, more everything. They were able to delve into the forbidden black