Joanna's Highlander by Greyson Maeve

Author:Greyson, Maeve
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2018-04-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Two quick beeps of the horn and Carolina Adventures’ sleek black shuttle bus rolled out of the park, headed for the bed-and-breakfast with a load of extremely hung-over senior citizens.

Grant smiled and raised his hand in farewell. For the first time in a very long time, as a matter of fact for the first time since they’d arrived in this accursed century, he felt a sense of peace—and maybe even a little anticipation.

“Do ye no’ think ’tis time ye took the girl before the Heartstone and sought its advice? Ye’ve finally made her yer own. ’Tis time to seek the blessing in person and tell the lass the MacDara history.”

Dwyn MacKay. The nosy, redheaded demigod determined to be a thorn in every MacDara’s arse. Long ago, the goddesses ordained him as guide to all the druid clans—guardian to them, in fact. Grudgingly, Grant admitted that without Dwyn’s help with acclimating to the twenty-first century after they’d first arrived—and even now after they’d been here sixteen years—the MacDaras’ survival in this strange time wouldha been questionable.

“Ignorin’ me will do ye no good, ye ken? Ye best answer me, boy.”

“Go away, ye old bastard,” Grant replied without turning around. “Ye ken good and well how I feel about the Heartstone and its druthers.” The damn stone and the meddlin’ goddesses were as responsible for the murder of his precious Leannan and their unborn child just as surely as if they’d been the ones that had slit her throat. He’d had little to do with the stone and the goddesses since that terrible day. He didna care if his soul was headed for certain damnation. His heart had already been there for well over a decade.

Dwyn stepped up and stood beside him. The wiry demigod wore his usual attire of an expensive three-piece suit complete with a gold watch chain and starched handkerchief peeping out of the breast pocket. While larger than life when it came to personality, in his physical form, Dwyn was dwarfed by Grant’s size. His bushy red brows knotted above his narrowed eyes in a furious scowl and he clasped his hands to the small of his back. He glared up at Grant with an impatient sideways glance. “The stone doesna set nor choose yer fate, lad. It merely guides us and shows us the proper path for the good of all concerned. Remember yer teachings, aye?”

“I dinna give a damn about the good of all concerned. I’m no longer a protector. Remember?”

“Aye, ye are. It’s in yer blood, boy. Ye dinna have a choice in the matter.” Dipping his chin in a curt nod, Dwyn did a bouncing roll to the toe-tips of his highly polished, black wing-tipped shoes as though launching himself into motion. He sauntered back and forth on the sidewalk with a swinging methodical step. Finally, he came to a halt in front of Grant and jabbed a finger hard against Grant’s breastbone. “Ye will always be a protector and ye ken as

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