The Dark Highlander (The Highlander Series, Book 5)

Karen Marie Moning is the internationally bestselling author of the Highlander and Fever novels. Her books have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestseller lists, and have won numerous awards, including the prestigious Rita. She lives in Georgia and Florida with her husband Neil and the world-traveling cat, Moonshadow. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. First Prologue In a place difficult for humans to find, a man, of sorts—it amused him to go by the name of Adam Black among mortals—approached a silk-canopied dais and knelt before his queen."My queen, The Compact is broken."Aoibheal, queen of the Tuatha Dé Danaan, was silent for a longtime. When finally she turned to her consort, her voice dripped ice. "Summon the council." Second Prologue Thousands of years before the birth of Christ, there settled in Ireland a race called the Tuatha Dé Danaan who, over time, became known as the True Race or the Fairy.An advanced civilization from a faraway world, the Tuatha Dé Danaan educated some of the more promising humans they encountered in Druid ways. For a time, man and fairy shared the earth in peace, but sadly, bitter dissension arose between them, and the Tuatha Dé Danaan decided to move on. Legend claims they were driven "under the hills" into "fairy mounds." The truth is they never left our world, but hold their fantastic court in places difficult for humans to find.After the Tuatha Dé Danaan left, the human Druids warred among themselves for power. Thirteen of their once faithful Druids turned to dark ways and-thanks to what the Tuatha Dé Danaan had taught them-nearly destroyed the earth.The Tuatha Dé Danaan emerged from their hidden places and stopped the battle moments before the Druids succeeded in damaging the earth beyond repair. They stripped the Druids of their power, scattering them to the far corners of the earth. They punished the thirteen who'd turned dark by casting them into a place between dimensions, locking their immortal souls in an eternal prison.The Tuatha Dé Danaan then selected a noble bloodline, the Keltar, to use the sacred knowledge to rebuild and nurture the land. Together they negotiated The Compact: the treaty governing cohabitation of their races. The Keltar swore many oaths to the Tuatha Dé Danaan, first and foremost that they would never use the power of the standing stones-which give the man who knows the sacred formulas the ability to move through space and time-for personal gain or political ends. The Tuatha Dé Danaan pledged many things in return, first and foremost that they would never spill the lifeblood of a mortal. Both races have long abided by the pledges made that day.Over the ensuing millennia, the MacKeltar journeyed to Scotland and settled in the Highlands above what is now called Inverness. Although most of their ancient history from the time of their involvement with the Tuatha Dé Danaan has melted into the mists of their distant past and been forgotten, and although there is no record of a Keltar encountering a Tuatha Dé Danaan since then (giving rise to speculation that the ancient race no longer exists), they have never strayed from their sworn purpose.Pledged to serve the greater good of the world, no MacKeltar has ever broken his sacred oath. On the few occasions they have opened a gate to other times within the circle of stones, it has been for the noblest of reasons: to protect the earth from great peril. An ancient legend holds that if a MacKeltar breaks his oath and uses the stones to travel through time for personal purposes, the myriad souls of the darkest Druids trapped in the in-between will claim him and make him the most evil, terrifyingly powerful Druid humankind has ever known.In the fifteenth century, twin brothers Drustan and Dageus MacKeltar are born. As their ancestors before them, they protect the ancient tore, nurture the land, and guard the coveted secret of the standing stones.Honorable men, without corruption, Dageus and Drustan serve faithfully.Until one fateful night, in a moment of blinding grief Dageus MacKeltar violates the sacred Compact.When his brother Drustan is killed, Dageus enters the circle of stones and goes back in time to event Dnistan's death. He succeeds, but between dimensions is taken by the souls of the evil Druids who have not tasted or touched or smelled, not made love or danced or vied for powet for nearly four thousand years.Now Dageus MacKeltar is a man with one good conscience-and thirteen bad ones. Although he can hold his own for a white, his time is growing short.The darkest Druid currently resides in the East 70s in Manhattan, and that is where our story begins. CHAPTER 1 Dageus MacKeltar walked like a man and talked like a man, but in bed he was pure animal.Criminal attorney Katherine O'Malley called a spade a spade, and the man was raw Sex with a capital S. Now that she'd slept with him she was ruined for other men.It wasn't just what he looked like, with his sculpted body,skin poured like gold velvet over steel, chiseled features, and silky black hair. Or that lazy, utterly arrogant smile that promised a woman paradise. And delivered. One hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed.It wasn't even the exotic golden eyes fringed by thick black lashes beneath slanted brows.It was what he did to her.He was sex like she'd never had in her life, and Katherine had been having sex for seventeen years. She thought she'd seen it all. But when Dageus MacKeltar touched her, she came apart at the seams. Aloof, his every movement smoothly controlled, when he stripped off his clothing he stripped off every ounce of that rigid discipline and turned into an untamed barbarian. He fucked with the single-minded intensity of a man on death row, execution at dawn.Just thinking about him made places low in her belly clench. Made her skin felt stretched too tight across her bones. Made her breath come short and sharp.Now, standing in the anteroom outside the enameled French doors of his exquisite Manhattan penthouse overlooking Central Park that fit him like a second skin-starkly elegant, black, white, chrome, and hard-she felt intensely alive, every nerve wired. Drawing a deep breath, she turned the handle and pushed open the door.It was never locked. As if he feared nothing, forty-three floors above the flash and razor edges of the city. As if he'd seen the worst the Big Apple had to offer and found it all mildly amusing. As if the city might be big and bad, but he was bigger and badder.She stepped inside, inhaling the rich scent of sandalwood and roses. Classical music spilled through the luxurious rooms-Mozart's Requiem-but she knew that later he might play Nine Inch Nails, and stretch her naked body against the wall of windows that overlooked the conservatory water, driving into her until she screamed her release to the bright city lights below.Sixty feet of coveted Fifth Avenue frontage in the East 70s-and she had no idea what he did for a living. Most of the time she wasn't certain she wanted to know.She pushed the doors shut behind her and allowed the buttery-soft folds of her leather coat to spill to the floor, revealing black lace-topped thigh-highs, matching panties, and a sheer push-up bra that presented her full breasts to perfection. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the darkened windows and smiled. At thirty-three, Katherine O'Malley looked good. She should look good, she thought, arching a brow, as much exercise as she'd been getting in his bed. Or on the floor. Sprawled across the leather sofa. In his black marble Jacuzzi...A wave of lust made her dizzy, and she breathed deeply to slow her pounding heart. Around him, she felt insatiable. A time or two, she'd briefly entertained the outrageous thought that he might not be human. That maybe he was some mythical sex-god, perhaps Priapus beckoned by the needy inhabitants of the city that never slept. Or some creature of long-forgotten lore, a Sidhe that had the ability to heighten pleasure to extremes mortals weren't meant to taste."Katie-lass." His voice floated down from the top floor of, the fifteen-room duplex, dark and rich, his Scottish accent making her think of peat-smoke, ancient stones, and aged whisky.Only Dageus MacKeltar could get away with calling Katherine O'Malley "Katie-lass."As he descended the curving staircase and entered the thirty-foot living room with its vaulted ceilings, marble fireplace, and panoramic view of the park, she remained motionless, drinking him in. He wore black linen trousers, and she knew there would be nothing beneath them but the most perfect male body she'd ever seen. Her gaze drifted over his wide shoulders, down his hard chest and his rippling abs, lingering on the twin ropes of muscle that cut his lower stomach and disappeared into his pants, beckoning the eye to follow."Good enough to eat?" His golden eyes glittered as they raked her body. "Come." He extended his hand. "Lass, you take my breath away. Your wish is my command this eve. You have only to tell me."His long midnight hair, so black it seemed as blue-black as his shadow beard in the amber glow of recessed lights, spilled over one muscled shoulder, falling to his waist, and she sucked in a quick breath. She knew the feel of it sweeping her bare breasts, abrading her nipples, falling lower, across her thighs as he brought her to peak after shuddering peak."As if I need to say anything. You know what I want before I know myself." She heard the edge in her voice, knew he heard it too. It unnerved her, how well he understood her. Before she knew what she wanted, he was giving it to her.It made him dangerously addictive.He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. She wasn't certain she'd ever seen it reach his eyes. They never changed, merely observed and waited. Like a tiger's golden eyes, his were watchful yet aloof, amused yet detached. Hungry eyes. Predator eyes. More than once she'd wanted to ask what those tiger-eyes saw. What judgment they passed, what the hell he seemed to be waiting for, but in the bliss of his ha...