Warrior’s Redemption Read online

  MALCOLM MACDOWYLT sees himself a failed warrior, haunted by the death of the woman he married to become laird of Clan MacGahan. Neither his Viking heritage nor his claim to descend from Norse gods can restore his confidence in his ability to protect his people. His sister is held captive, her life in jeopardy, and his Magically powerful half brother wants him dead. The last thing he needs is more responsibility, but that’s exactly what he gets when his Faerie mother-in-law arrives seeking justice for her daughter in the form of an enticing woman from seven hundred years in the future.

  DANIELLE DEARMON has waited fifteen years to discover the life she is supposed to live. She just never dreamed she’d end up in the thirteenth century with a handsome Scot bent on saving everyone but himself.

  With the lives of those most dear to him hanging in the balance, Malcolm sets out to battle a powerful evil magic, only to learn that the redemption he seeks exists in the arms of the woman he loves.

  “Get swept away by the magic of Mayhue’s mystical medieval Highlanders.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Karen Marie Moning

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  MELISSA MAYHUE

  “An author with a magical touch for romance.”

  —New York Times bestselling author

  Janet Chapman

  HIGHLANDER’S CURSE

  “An enthralling and captivating romance replete with historical events, great emotional turmoil between the hero and heroine combined with a delicate touch of time travel and fae magic. A page-turner if there ever was one!”

  —RT Book Reviews (4½ stars)

  “Time after time, Mayhue brings her readers tantalizingly close to emotional satisfaction.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  HEALING THE HIGHLANDER

  “Amazing! The highly emotional, quick-paced plot makes this a page-turner. Deeply moving characters, fraught with emotional turmoil, the subtle entwining of Faerie magic and a highly charged, ever-expanding romance turn this into a keeper.”

  —RT Book Reviews (4½ stars)

  A HIGHLANDER’S HOMECOMING

  “Enthralling. . . . The combination of plot, deeply emotional characters, and ever-growing love is breathtaking.”

  —RT Book Reviews (4½ stars)

  A HIGHLANDER’S DESTINY

  “Wondrous. . . . The characters are well written, the action is nonstop, and there’s plenty of sizzling passion.”

  —RT Book Reviews (4 stars)

  “This is one of those series that I tell everyone to read.”

  —Night Owl Reviews (5 stars)

  A HIGHLANDER OF HER OWN

  “A wonderful medieval time-travel romance. . . . Melissa Mayhue captures the complications and delights of both the modern woman and the fascination with the medieval world.”

  —Denver Post

  “Fun and enjoyable.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  SOUL OF A HIGHLANDER

  Winner of the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal of 2009

  Winner of the Winter Rose Award for Best Paranormal of 2009

  “Mayhue’s world is magical and great fun!”

  —RT Book Reviews (4 stars)

  “Absolutely riveting from start to finish.”

  —A Romance Review

  HIGHLAND GUARDIAN

  Winner of the HOLT Medallion for Best Paranormal of 2008

  Winner of the Winter Rose Award for Best Paranormal of 2008

  “Mayhue not only develops compelling protagonists, but her secondary characters are also rich and intriguing. An author with major potential!”

  —RT Book Reviews (4 stars)

  “An awesome story. . . . A lovely getaway to fantasy land.”

  —Fallen Angels Reviews (5 Angels)

  “A delightful world of the faerie. . . . The story flows with snappy dialogue and passionate temptations. It’s sure to put a smile on your face.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  THIRTY NIGHTS WITH

  A HIGHLAND HUSBAND

  Winner of the Book Buyers Best Award for Best Paranormal of 2008

  “An enchanting time travel. . . . Infused with humor, engaging characters, and a twist or two.”

  —RT Book Reviews (4 stars)

  “A wonderful time-travel romance.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “What a smasharoo debut! Newcomer Melissa Mayhue rocks the Scottish Highlands.”

  —A Romance Review

  These titles are also available as eBooks

  ALSO BY MELISSA MAYHUE

  Thirty Nights with a Highland Husband

  Highland Guardian

  Soul of a Highlander

  A Highlander of Her Own

  A Highlander’s Destiny

  A Highlander’s Homecoming

  Healing the Highlander

  Highlander’s Curse

  Pocket Star Books

  A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2011 by Melissa Mayhue

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  First Pocket Star Books paperback edition January 2012

  POCKET STAR BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.

  Designed by Jacquelynne Hudson

  Cover illustration by Kris Keller

  ISBN 978-1-4516-4087-8

  ISBN 978-1-4516-4090-8 (eBook)

  This one is for the readers—all of you who, like me, love your characters complete with their own happy ever after!

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

 
Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Five

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  There are many people who play a part in the final form of each and every book I write. Without them, the stories wouldn’t be the same.

  For this book, I owe special thanks to these people:

  Martin Mayhue—for the time and effort it took to actually brew up a batch of the Viking Bog Myrtle Beer so that I would know what I was talking about when I tried to describe it.

  Nicholas Wade-Mayhue—whose artistic ability brought my vision to life in the form of the tattoo Odin’s descendants wear.

  Megan Mayhue of TrinketsNTidbits.com—whose talent with beaded jewelry yielded beautiful designs to represent the series.

  Teresa Redmond-Ott—whose love for all animals is infectious and who graciously taught me more about chickens than I’d ever thought to ask.

  Elaine Spencer—whose advice and guidance I value.

  And

  Megan McKeever—without whom my books just wouldn’t be the same.

  WARRIOR’S

  REDEMPTION

  Prologue

  TOM GREEN COUNTY, TEXAS

  FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

  FAIRIES ABSOLUTELY WERE real. Dani didn’t care what Aunt Jean claimed.

  After Mrs. Palmer down at the new library had loaned her those wonderful books this past summer, she’d known it wasn’t just her imagination. Lots of people believed in them. She’d spent the entire vacation between fourth and fifth grades reading all about Faeries.

  “Dani?” Aunt Jean’s voice carried all the way down to the chicken coops. “Dani! You better hurry up with those eggs, little girl, if you expect to get breakfast in you before the school bus gets here.”

  Dani grabbed the one egg that had been laid already, dodging the grumpy old brown hen’s beak, and hurried back toward the farmhouse. She’d have to gather again when she got home from school, but at least Emma Hen had come through early, as usual.

  A furtive glance toward the empty corner next to the steps as she approached the house warned her of what was to come.

  “Get your hands washed and sit yourself down.”

  Aunt Jean’s no-nonsense expression was firmly in place, and Dani quickly did as she was told, slipping into her spot at the old kitchen table as her aunt slid a warm plate in front of her.

  “What did I tell you about setting a saucer of milk out by the steps?” Aunt Jean waited, arms folded in front of her.

  “Not to,” Dani mumbled around her first bite of thick toast. “Draws snakes.”

  “So it’s not that you forgot. You’ve just decided you’re not going to mind me, is that it? You’re just trying to be bad?”

  “No, ma’am, I’m not trying to be bad. I promise.” The Faeries liked milk and bread. It encouraged them to stay.” My book said—”

  “Nuh-uh.” Aunt Jean turned back to the stove, scrambling Dani’s egg, her gray curls swaying with the stubborn shaking of her head. “I don’t want another word of that fairy nonsense, you hear me? There’s no such thing as a fairy, but rattlers are real enough. Those damn snakes will smell that milk a mile off and next thing you know, you or me will be getting ourselves snakebit. And then what?”

  “The Faeries would keep us safe, if you’d let me feed them,” Dani muttered, tearing a corner off her toast and dropping it into her lap. If her aunt would just believe, the Faeries would hear all their wishes and make them come true. “I read that in one of my books.”

  “Danielle Faye Dearmon!” Aunt Jean turned around from the stove and leaned across the table. “I’ve had just about enough of this nonsense from you. Not everything in books is true just because somebody wrote it down. I’m serious as a heart attack about this, little girl. I want your promise right now that you won’t put any more milk out by the steps for these damned imaginary fairies of yours or else I’m going to have to paddle your butt, you understand me? I want your promise on it, Dani. I want it now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dani didn’t hesitate with her response. She had no choice. Her aunt was really serious this time. She almost never pulled out the “paddle your butt” threat. “I promise.”

  She meant to keep the promise, too. No more milk by the porch steps. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t hunt down a new spot to feed the Faeries when she got home from school this afternoon. A better spot. One that Aunt Jean wouldn’t find.

  Because no matter that Aunt Jean was the best substitute mama on the face of the planet, in this one thing, she was completely wrong.

  Faeries were absolutely real, and Dani meant to make sure she stayed on their good side.

  One

  LAND OF THE FAERIE

  1294 (AS CALCULATED BY MORTALS)

  HOWLS ECHOED THROUGH the forest of Wyddecol, so protracted and pain-ridden they tortured Elesyria’s eardrums. Like those of some animal in its death throes, the screams pitched from fury to terror and back again.

  She ran faster through the trees, seeking in vain to escape the torment of those sounds. Knowing she could never outrun that which came from her own throat.

  It was her agony, her torment that tore the screams from her lungs as if the pain were a living creature eating at her innards.

  Her daughter, her only child, her beautiful Isabella had disappeared from the World of Man.

  On she ran, unseeing, dodging by instinct the low-hanging branches and fallen limbs. On, deeper into the forest, until at last she broke through into a clearing. Ahead lay the Temple of Danu, golden in its perpetual shaft of sunlight, encircled by its ring of massive stones.

  Elesyria pushed herself harder, maintaining her pace up the long marble staircase. Not even at the doorway did she slow. No stopping to shed her sandals, no washing her feet, no bending low to show reverence at the doorway to the inner sanctum. Not this time. This time, for the first time ever, she simply didn’t care.

  Her precious Isabella was gone from the World of Man.

  “Show yourself, I demand it! How could you allow this to happen?” she accused, ignoring the hysterical echo of her own words in the cavernous, rounded room. “You promised. She was to be cared for if I would but leave her with the Mortals and return to your service. You promised!”

  She screamed the final words, her voice cracking as she sank to her knees. The tears, until now strangely absent, at last found their release, rolling down her cheeks to splatter on the white stone floor at her knees. “You promised,” she accused one final time, her words no more than a whisper against the canvas of her grief.

  “You would demand my presence in your world, Daughter of Danu?”

  The words echoed off the arc of the room’s high ceiling, bouncing, tumbling in a harmonious melody of sound.

  “I would,” Elesyria answered without hesitation. She had no care for the ancient protocols. No time to travel to the trance world. No desire to honor the bitch Goddess who had betrayed her.

  In front of her a pale green mist coalesced, writhing and bubbling, shifting from one form to another until at last a tall, beautiful woman emerged. The Goddess, the Earth Mother, had arrived.

  “Then I can only assume these are the direst of times. What troubles you, my child?”

  “The loss of my child.” Elesyria rose to her feet, well aware she breached all acceptable behavior in doing so. Eye contact with the Goddess was too painful, so she fixed her gaze on the other woman’s chin. “Isabella is dead. You’ve broken your promise to me.”

  The Goddess lifted her hand as if to catch a handful of air i
n the room before rubbing her thumb against her fingers, much in the way a merchant might sample the feel of a fine silk.

  “Isabella lives.”

  “Impossible!” Elesyria had been to the curtain between the worlds that very morning. She’d stood there as so often she did, stretching out her magic to caress the essence of the daughter she’d left behind. Only this time, there had been nothing. “She’s not in the World of Man. I felt for her myself. That which had been her is gone.”

  “Nevertheless, Isabella’s soul has not returned to the Fountain. She lives.”

  “How can that be?” Elesyria’s legs buckled, too weak to hold her weight, and she dropped to her knees. “The place where I felt for her is as empty as my heart.”

  The Goddess lifted both arms and the mist returned, swirling in a sphere between her hands. It moved as if alive, frantic with a billion life-forms, its color shifting from the palest green to a brilliant emerald and back again. Then the Goddess clapped her hands together and the mist disappeared as quickly as it had formed.

  “Not only does she live, she has joined with her SoulMate. Though, as you say, she is not in the time and place where you left her.”

  “What does that mean?”

  The Goddess shrugged, palms held upward. “I cannot yet say. I know only what I feel when I search the Myst.”

  Elesyria’s mind reeled in confusion. Isabella’s space on the Mortal Plain was empty. She’d felt that for herself. And yet, the Goddess claimed her daughter lived. Lived and had found the one happiness every Fae sought: her own SoulMate!

  “I need answers,” she whispered, as much to herself as to the Goddess standing nearby.

  “Indeed you do. Go with my blessings.”

  Her blessings? Not enough. Not by half.

  Elesyria raised her head, coming as close to meeting the Earth Mother’s eyes as she dared. “After all the years I’ve dedicated to your service, Goddess, I want more than your blessings. I want to travel through the curtain with the power to punish any who harmed my child.”

  “Crossing over with your Magic intact is forbidden by your High Council.”

  If the Goddess thought to dissuade her with something so trivial, she was seriously mistaken.