Page 112 of Dark Lover

“Aidan wanted to show Macleod a fortification he’s building on the lake’s northern shores. Awe is so large now that there’s a huge spillover of men and women to the village. He’s added a defensive set of walls there,” Brie said. “But they won’t be long.” Her face fell.

Sam knew she was thinking about Ian.

Brie said softly, “Aidan asked Ian last night if he’d join them. He said no.”

Sam hesitated. “I’m not going to give you platitudes. I don’t know if he’ll ever come around, Brie.”

“I will never stop praying for him and I will never give up hope. But it’s been twenty-five years. I want Aidan to be whole, Sam.”

Suddenly Tabby made a startled sound, and she turned white.

Sam had tensed impossibly. The heavy weight of evil was present—and it was familiar.

It was the monk.

He had come to them, and she didn’t think he’d come to negotiate. He was playing offense; the men were gone. It hit her then, how bold he was to dare to enter Castle Awe. And she still didn’t have her weapons! She had one very lethal dagger, which she’d taken from the armory the moment she’d arrived at Awe yesterday.

Where was Ian?

“It’s Carlisle,” Sam said tersely, on her feet. She turned in the direction of the weight of his evil, but Tabby was already starting for the staircase there.

“Aidan,” Brie whispered.

Sam was on her sister’s heels. She turned, her dagger in hand. Brie was clutching the back of a chair. Brie was an empath. She was afraid for Aidan, then.

Brie looked at her, shaking her head. “It’s not Aidan, it’s Ian. His fear feels like a butcher knife, going right through the heart.”

Sam ran. She caught up with Tabby and passed her on the stone stairs. As she did, she heard stone cracking and crashing. She rushed to the threshold of the ramparts, aware that the terrible battle had begun.

It might be their last one. She paused. A small army of possessed giants was scaling the walls. They were heavily armed, their eyes glowing with inhuman determination. The watch lay dead, hanging from the tower windows. And Ian was alone on the ramparts.

If he was terrified, one wouldn’t know it. He was blasting the Highland giants as they crested the crenellations, his expression savage. They were an incoming tide, and they just kept coming in waves. Sam did not know how long he could keep up his one-man defense. “Ian!” Sam ran up to him.

He only glanced at her. “Get back! Get Aidan and Macleod!”

As if she’d retreat. Sam seized a sword from a dead giant.

Soft laughter sounded.

Sam looked up. So did Ian.

The monk of Carlisle stood on the highest level of the tower, grinning down at them. His dark robes swirled in the breeze. His blond hair gleamed. He slowly lifted his pointy shoe and nudged one of Aidan’s watchmen off the ledge. The man’s body tumbled through the air, landing not far from where she and Ian stood. “Hello, Ian, Sam.”

Ian had paled but his fierce expression remained. “Bastard.”

Behind them, Tabby paused and began chanting, casting a spell.

“Ian!” Brie cried.

He whirled, hurling his power at another wave of attackers.

A growl sounded.

A demon dog crouched on the crenellations. She had no idea how it had gotten up there, but as it snarled, fangs dripping, she didn’t hesitate. That thing meant murder. She hurled her dagger at its heart as it sprang. She was expecting it to attack her. Instead, it leapt at Tabby.

Her dagger struck its chest, but the demon dog landed on her sister, growling in rage and driving her to the ground. Sam shouted, rushing it, sword raised. Beneath the beast, Tabby kept chanting. Before Sam could sever the damned dog’s head from it shoulders, Ian’s power blazed. He blasted the beast, then turned to combat the incoming giants, dropping them one by one.

She didn’t know how long he could keep this up. He was breathing hard and sweat was pouring down his body. They needed reinforcements, badly. The demon dog went still and Sam seized it by the skin at its nape, pulling it from her sister, hurling it aside as the ramparts shuddered from Ian’s white power. Sam seized her dagger, jerking it free of the dog’s chest. As she turned back to her sister, she saw her lashes flutter. She was alive. Sam saw that her mouth moved as if she were still chanting; Tabby was in a deep trance.