Page 44 of Druid Cursed

CHAPTER

Taking a ragged breath, Maggie turned. Without the sturdiness of the pillar at her back, she would have slid to the floor.

The mansion garden with its crowd, masks , and bonfires was gone.

Dark stone took the place of trees and statues.

The single candle rested in an iron chandelier hanging from a chain.

The odor of damp and decay replaced the heady incense of the jack-o’-lanterns.

The castle. She was in the castle, alone. How was this happening?

The shadows beneath the stairway stirred, and terror froze Maggie. Blood pounded in her head, skewing sound. She was alone in an abandoned castle with something that used a human voice. Something that knew her name. Oh, God.

A form slowly separated from the gloom, and the candlelight caught the moist gleam of eyes and pale skin.

A woman stepped into the meager light beneath the chandelier.

The light gleamed copper in her long, auburn hair.

She wore a dress that accented her generous curves, corseted tight and full skirts like ones worn in medieval times.

Maggie blinked several times, but the vision didn’t change. Just as she knew she was on her own, she knew who stood before her. “Sorcha.”

The woman cocked her head, a slight smile on her perfect bow mouth. “Nay, not Sorcha. I am Aibreann, Sorcha’s daughter.”

Okay, so maybe she didn’t know everything. Maggie focused on steadying her breath. She could handle this, figure a way out of this. Face it full-on, no matter how many nightmares she’d have later or how many years of therapy. “Are you a ghost?”

Aibreann glided closer. Freaking glided , as if a hoverboard hid beneath her skirts. “Do you know why you were brought here?”

She didn’t dare speculate on what possible reasons a spirit would transport her to Kellen’s castle, certain she didn’t want to know.

“You are my descendant, from my sister’s line.

I had no children. My only babe perished in the womb when I died.

” She cocked her head again, her neck bent at an impossible angle, and the terror Maggie had thought she’d controlled crawled up her throat, begging for release. “I brought you here to save you.”

Maggie wanted to close her eyes, to pretend none of this was happening, and hope when she opened them that this had all been a nightmare come and gone.

But she might open her eyes to find a ghost in her face, and that would be worse.

And she really, really hoped Aibreann’s idea of saving her didn’t include maiming, torturing, or killing.

She felt for Caedmon’s last-resort spell in her pocket, and her heart stumbled. It wasn’t there. Her necklace of charms was gone. Only Kellen’s knife remained, tucked safely between her breasts.

“I appreciate the sentiment, I do.” Her voice echoed in the large room, sounding cold and frail. “But it’s my friend Wendy who needs saving, not me.”

Aibreann thankfully straightened her neck and glided closer, her eyes like black holes in the darkness. “You are in grave danger.”

She considered pointing out that Sorcha had taken possession of Wendy, hinted that she’d been hurt and threatened to hurt Wendy more, but ghosts probably didn’t care about that kind of thing.

“The Ravenwood druids seek to slay you.”

“I beg your finest pardon?” That was a first. “I know that your mother cursed Kellen. And I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s a lot more likeable than your mother. I doubt he—”

“I was carrying his child, at the end.”

Maggie’s chest became an icy abyss. Thinking about Kellen touching another woman the same way he had her made her want to puke.

“That can’t be true. Kellen takes a contraception spell during the harvest festival.

He told me.” Though she admittedly didn’t know how often he had to take it for it to work. What if they’d been lovers…regularly…

Aibreann didn’t seem to hear her. She slid a hand over her flat belly, as if longing for it to be round and full with promise. “He refused to acknowledge me or our offspring, the symbol of our desire.”

Everything inside Maggie went cold. Bits and pieces of the diary she’d found in Kellen’s tower flashed in her mind like broken glass.

Long have I waited for your return, my love …

I smile your way and receive naught but coldness for my warmth. Were your kisses transitory, your passion so fleeting?

“That can’t be true,” she said again. But her voice cracked.

“I was not enough for him. My beauty was merely a pastime, my body a diversion. To him, my heart was inferior, my love worthless.”

Forcing herself to meet Aibreann’s gaze, she studied the perfect beauty. If Aibreann hadn’t been enough for Kellen, how could Maggie ever measure up?

There is no place in the world I would rather be than beside you.

I would look at you for eternity and never tire of the sight.

You are mine, Maggie O’Malley. Neither centuries nor curses have the power to alter that truth.

She’d never forget his expression when she’d teasingly asked him to join her quest, the infinite yearning, the way he’d said “always” as if it was a desperate prayer.

Nothing she’d seen of him suggested he was the type of man who could use a woman so poorly and then toss her aside.

He’d been only honorable, kind, and respectful.

He couldn’t possibly be the person Aibreann claimed.

“People change.” She forced her shoulders to straighten. “The Kellen I know would never do that to anyone.”

“Do not be a fool, Maggie. He feeds you what he wishes you to believe, manipulates you for his own purposes, as so many men do.” She cocked her head, her gaze knowing. “Do they not?”

Maggie wanted to argue, but she’d known Darren for years before figuring out how easily he’d manipulated her, used her, lied to her. She’d been wrong before. It was possible she was wrong now.

“You’ve read my diary, have seen my accounting of his misdeeds.” Aibreann’s voice gentled. “I guided you to it, that first day here, in this place where I slew myself. I chose to end both my life and that of my child rather than endure the agony of his rejection.”

…bear your indifference no longer. Mayhap in death …remember me.

Maggie covered her mouth with a hand. Kellen had broken Aibreann’s heart, and she hadn’t been able to bear it.

Nausea curled in her stomach. She understood firsthand rejection by a man both trusted and loved.

How it felt to be found inadequate. When Kellen had talked about Sorcha, he’d only shared the barest mention of her daughter, and he certainly hadn’t said anything about a suicide.

Sorcha was untrustworthy, her daughter a stranger, but she couldn’t deny the tendrils of doubt. Kellen kept secrets, she’d always known that, but what other important details had he failed to tell her? How else was he entwined with her ancestors?

“Ah, I see you did not know about the nature of my death.” That creepy-plastic smile reappeared. “I hung myself from the rafters of Kellen’s tower. Caedmon found me there and concealed the deed.”

Maggie couldn’t breathe. No. That couldn’t be true. None of it could possibly be true. Kellen surely would have told her. “It’s not fair to hear only one side of the story. I need to talk to Kellen—”

“I smell him on you, his enchantment. He seeks to beguile you to his will as he did me.” Aibreann’s voice rattled like leaves in the wind, and her face twisted, elongating as she glided even nearer.

“The curse may only be broken with the blood of our descendant, a daughter. They will drain your blood, break the curse, and be free from their punishment.”

The words spilled over Maggie like salt in a wound, a burn that spread to every cell, too many, too much to figure out the source of the pain.

“We cannot allow that to happen.” Each word grew shriller, sharper, rising to a shriek. “We will not allow that to happen.”

The air sparked with energy, and the tiny hairs on Maggie’s neck prickled. The solid doors of the castle burst open, and a glacial wind swept inside, clawing at her dress. It carried a stench of carrion and dead leaves.

Aibreann’s mouth opened wide, wider, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. Her eyes were nothing but empty holes as she rushed straight at Maggie.

Instinctively, Maggie hunched and covered her face with one arm, Kellen’s unsheathed dagger thrust out before her.

The wind died, as if a switch had flipped, and silence fell. A bright orange leaf drifted to the floor, landing beside a blue rock.

Shaking, Maggie lowered the dagger and looked up. Aibreann was gone.

But she couldn’t deny the chilling sense that they’d meet again. Everything she had said remained, a haunting presence that only Kellen could exorcise.