Todd caught Myra’s glance out of the corner of his eye. Her cheeks flamed red and his leggings, tight around his thighs, stretched further.
Myra brought her hand up to her neck and fanned her fingers along the long column of her throat. He could almost taste the salt tinged flesh as if he were pressing his lips to her neck.
Duncan growled behind him, forcing Todd’s thoughts to the sword in his hand. He turned in time to block Duncan’s sword in mid-air. Todd ducked, kicked his feet out, and managed to topple his opponent. Duncan was on his feet in seconds forcing Todd to react again.
He knew Myra’s brother saw their brief exchange. Not that a mere look should warrant such force, but it was something he was growing used to dealing with. The only intimacy he’d shared with Myra in over two weeks was no more than a brush of her hand over his.
No one left them alone. If it wasn’t Ian, it was Duncan or Fin coming between them.
His dreams were flooded with images of the two of them together. So much so, that deep in the night when his body woke him up he had to stop himself from going to her.
From being with her.
What could he offer her? He wasn’t a knight. He had no land or money, no means to support her. And why the hell was he thinking like that?
Damn, he needed to get his head back on straight.
Myra suffered, but not silently. She plagued Tara and Lizzy daily about her feelings. “I can’t stand it,” she told them both. “He’s all sweaty and short of breath, working out there, and I can’t think beyond how I want the same for us both.”
Tara didn’t even try to hold back her laugh.
“You better not even think like that. Your dad would have both your heads if he found you together.”
“Why? It isn’t like he doesn’t know what occurred between us.”
“It isn’t the same,” Liz told her.
“Ma walked in on you and Duncan,” Myra reminded Tara.
“It isn’t the same with a daughter.” Tara held up her hands. “I know, I know, it isn’t fair, but those are the facts.”
“Well, they stink!”
Tara and Liz nodded their agreement as they sat back and watched the men train in the courtyard.
Tara held her belly, where her unborn child grew. Liz watched Simon trying to keep up with Cian, and held her breath every time he picked up a sharp object. Although Myra understood Lizzy’s concern, she was simply too focused on her own misery to worry about someone else’s. She licked her dry lips when her breath caught at the sight of Todd blocking a sword with the shield he held.
Todd pulled a long drink from a cup set out by one of the serving maids when Fin granted a break from his training. “So, what do you think?” Fin knocked Todd on the back, which had him dripping water on his chin.
The tip of his tongue held a smartass reply, but instead he gave him an honest answer. “You’re kicking my ass.”
“Aye. That I am. And enjoying every minute of it,” Fin replied.
“Don’t count on that lasting, MacCoinnich.”
“You have a lot to learn, Blakely.”
They both smiled at each other and acknowledged the truth.
“What do you have going with Liz?” Todd did his best not to look at the women who made a sport out of watching them.
“Why do you ask that?”
“Come on, the two of you spar like arch-enemies.
Which only means that you are or...”
“Or what?”
“Or you have it bad.”
Fin glanced at the women, and smiled.
Lizzy looked away.
“Nay, I don’t have it bad.” Fin professed.
Todd didn’t believe him for a minute.
While the men trained with swords and fists, the women decided to sharpen their Druid gifts to help defeat the enemy. Alone in Myra’s chambers, the sisters gathered on the bed. Tara removed one of the books she’d asked Myra to bring back with her titled, Modern Witch Craft from Ancient Times.
“I don’t understand the purpose.”
“It’s just a hunch, really,” Tara started to explain. “So little is known about the Druid people in our time.”
“Because we are quiet about our heritage,”
Amber told her.
“Quiet enough for Lizzy and I to be oblivious to it. What if others from Druid ancestors found ways of channeling their gifts?”
“As in witchcraft?”
“Exactly.”
“Witches aren’t real, Tara,” Liz crossed her legs under the massive skirt.
“How can you say that after all you’ve seen?
Grainna is definitely a witch.”
“And Druid,” Myra added.
“Remember our corny chant back when we were kids?”
“Blood sisters.”
“Well, I’ve already told you how Amber, who we know is an empath, chanted along with me to find me.” Lizzy sat forward, listening. “Go on.”
“Even before all that happened, the day Myra and I mixed our blood, I saw the scissors, the ones we used to prick our fingers with, glow. Somehow, even then I knew something about the chant worked. When Myra left, I knew she’d be back. I felt it deep inside.”
“I did, too,” Amber chimed in.
“How is all this going to help us get rid of Grainna?” Myra asked.
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think a sword will take her down.”
Amber sat up. “Nay, I don’t think so either.”
“And you think ‘sister power’ can? Come on, Tara, you really have watched too much TV,” Lizzy chided.
Myra considered the twenty-first century television and understood Lizzy’s humor.
“What do we have to lose? Reading a couple books and practicing a few chants, spells, or whatever you want to call them, can’t hurt. If it doesn’t work...oh, well. If it does...who knows, it just might save a life like it did with Duncan and me.”
Myra studied the book over Tara’s shoulder.
Amber snuggled into her side.
“Witchcraft, gifts, powers of premonition. I’m a lost cause.” Liz tossed her hands in the air before Myra could contradict her. “Yeah, I know what I’ve seen with my own eyes. But I haven’t even managed a spark from these fingertips.”
“You haven’t tried,” Myra reminded her.
“Yes, I have. I just can’t do it. Even Simon’s tapping into his gifts.”
“He was so cute when he lit the candle last week.”
Myra agreed with Tara.