She closed the door before he could reply. He stared at the door, guilt piercing him. He shouldn’t have been so harsh with her; she was just trying to offer advice.
Yet she was an outsider, and she’d already told him she couldn't help. And she was right; Lioslaith would soon return and he would never see her again.
The thought should have comforted him. Instead, a heavy sense of sadness settled over him as he walked away from her chamber.
Chapter 4
“Thank you,” Avery said to the young chambermaid who brought her a meal of salmon, bread, and roasted carrots on a serving tray.
The young maid’s eyes widened in surprise at the sound of her accent, and Avery silently cursed herself for forgetting to keep her mouth shut. Since she couldn’t help Bhaltair with his niece, the least she could do was honor his wishes and draw as little attention as possible to herself.
The maid left with a polite nod after setting down the serving tray on a small table in the center of the chamber, her gaze lingering on her with curiosity. Avery suspected she would soon be the subject of castle gossip.
She moved over to the small table and sat, picking at her food, tumultuous thoughts filling her mind. After her encounter with Bhaltair this morning, she’d remained in her chamber, attempting spells that didn’t work, cursing Lioslaith for leaving her here, and trying not to recall how Bhaltair’s touch had affected her. It had taken everything in her power to wriggle away from him when all she’d wanted to do was press herself closer to that sexy body of his. Even as he’d glared down at her, Avery had fought not to let her gaze drop to his lips, to let herself drown in his stormy gray gaze.
It irritated her that Bhaltair was so damnably handsome. He was all dark masculinity, with those intense eyes, chiseled features, and powerful body.
Moisture crept between her thighs, and she shut her eyes, gritting her teeth. Get it together, Avery. All she had to do was endure being in this castle for another day until Lioslaith returned and allowed her to return to Skye.
Expelling a sigh, she dug into her food. She’d never felt such attraction toward a man she’d met in the past. Hell, she’d never felt this attracted to any man in her own time. Usually, she wasn’t shy about flirting with an attractive man, but she wouldn’t try that with Bhaltair, who seemed to dislike her upon sight.
But can you blame him? she chided herself. He was a loving uncle desperate to protect his niece, only for Lioslaith to bring him a completely useless witch. Shame roiled through her at the thought. During her time with Lila in Skye, her sister had confessed to her envy of Avery’s strength with time-travel magic. Lila didn’t know that it was Avery who was envious of Lila. Lila had traveled to the past and defeated a powerful dark witch, all the while falling in love. Avery’s trips had always been self-indulgent, never to help anyone else.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to, it was just that she didn’t think she was capable of such magic. The complex spells required to travel to the past differed from the Offensive and Defensive spells needed to fight another witch. She shuddered at the thought of failing to protect Cadha from this aingidh who was after her. Bhaltair would hate her even more.
It’s for the best that I’m leaving, she told herself. Lioslaith will bring Bhaltair someone capable to help.
Not long after finishing her meal, and the maid had taken it away, she took off her gown and slipped into bed, staring up at the ceiling. She comforted herself by pondering where she would go to next once she left this time period. Perhaps she’d go to Renaissance Venice and take in the splendor of the time for herself. Or perhaps she’d return to her own time for a bit, find herself a temporary lover to ease the ache of desire that had flared within her ever since meeting Bhaltair. At twenty-eight, she’d never had a serious relationship for long, given that she had to keep her true identity a secret. And none of the men she’d dated had ever held her interest for long or had given her that sense of butterflies she’d heard about in countless love songs, books, and films—butterflies that fluttered in her belly at the very sight of Bhaltair.
She closed her eyes, shoving away the thought. There were plenty of handsome men in other time periods, men who weren’t grumpy Scots who disliked her. The sooner Lioslaith returned to get her out of here, the better.
With that thought, Avery drifted off into a restless sleep.
* * *
There was only darkness.
From somewhere in the distance, Avery could hear a little girl’s cry; a little girl that sounded like Cadha. And then there was a howl of despair from a deep, masculine voice—Bhaltair’s voice.
Terror swirled through her veins as she tried to find them, to protect them from whatever caused their pain and grief, when she felt it. Though darkness surrounded her, she could practically taste the dark witch's presence.
Their blood will spill.
Avery froze, trying to locate the source of the harsh, guttural whisper. It was in front of her, behind her, in her mind.
Ye cannae stop me.
Avery awoke with a gasp, clutching her chest, icy panic chilling her to the bone. She sat up, looking out the window. Dawn lit up the sky, and she could hear the sounds of the castle awakening. A usual late riser herself, waking with the dawn was Avery’s least favorite thing about the past. But now she was grateful for her early rising—not that she could go back to sleep.
She shuddered at what she’d seen in her nightmare, that sense of something dark and dangerous on the horizon. Lioslaith was due to return tomorrow, but Avery had the pressing feeling that the danger she’d sensed would come sooner than that. She needed to warn Bhaltair.
Fortunately, it wasn’t long before her maid entered the chamber with a washbin and fresh gown for Avery to change into. When Avery asked where Bhaltair was, the maid informed her he hadn’t yet emerged from his chamber.
“Where is the laird’s chamber?” Avery asked. This couldn’t wait.
The maid’s eyes widened in surprise.
“At the far end of the corridor, m’lady.”
Avery quickly washed and dressed, waving away the maid’s help, before hurrying out of her chamber to seek out Bhaltair.
She was just about to knock on the closed door of his chamber when the door swung open, and Bhaltair started to step out, nearly colliding with her.
They both stumbled back, and Avery’s breath hitched at the sight of him. It was barely past dawn, and the man looked like the fourteenth-century version of a fashion model; dark, tousled hair, partially opened white tunic, glittering gray eyes. There was no hint of messy bedhead or morning breath. Even his smell—the earthy aroma of rosewood—was enticing.
He scowled at her, and Avery was reminded of his dislike. Ignoring the shard of hurt at his glower, she moved past him to step inside his chamber. This was too important to wait.
“What are ye doing? I told ye tae stay in yer chamber until Lioslaith—”
“This is urgent,” she said, turning to face him. “I had a nightmare. A nightmare that may be a premonition. I’m not a fiosaiche, so it could have just been a nightmare, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
She realized that her panic—and the memory of the nightmare—was making her words come out shaky. Bhaltair’s stormy expression softened, and he reached out to guide her to a chair.
“Take a breath, lass,” he said gently. She obliged and felt her body relax, not only by breathing but by the warmth of Bhaltair’s grip.
When she calmed, she told him about her nightmare: Cadha’s screams, his howls of pain, and the whisper in her mind that promised death.
When she’d finished, Bhaltair’s face went white. He stood abruptly, raking his hand through his hair.
“And ye think ’tis a premonition?”
“Maybe. I don’t know,” she said. “But given everything you’ve told me, I think you and your niece should leave the castle—go somewhere safe. And if I were you, I would only tell one or two people who I absolutely trust where I
’m going. Just as a precaution,” she added hastily, holding up her hands at his stormy look. “I know that Lioslaith is supposed to return for me tomorrow, but I can help get you both out of here. She’s a powerful witch; I have no doubt she can find us.”
Bhaltair hesitated.
“Ye said—”
“I know what I said,” Avery said. “And I still don’t think I’m the best choice to help you. But I can at least escort you to safety until Lioslaith arrives and allows me to leave this island.”
He gave her a long look before nodding.
“Most of the places I can think tae go, others ken about. Unless . . .” He trailed off, seeming to consider. “I found Lioslaith in a cave on Caisteal Abhail. Since we’re waiting for her tae return, we can go there for a night or two. Hamish is the only one here who kens about it, and I trust him with my life.”
“You’ll have to take us there,” Avery said. “I still can’t issue any Transport spells. Bhaltair,” she added, swallowing hard as she met his eyes, “if—if the dark presence I sensed was the aingidh, I’ll do whatever I can to try and protect you and Cadha until we get there—but I can’t make any promises.”
To her surprise, Bhaltair smiled. It was the first time he’d smiled at her since she’d arrived, and the effect was thoroughly disarming. Her body went warm, and she felt a blush stain her cheeks.
“’Tis nae often a lass offers tae protect me,” he murmured.
“I’m not a mere lass,” she said, standing as she returned his smile. “I’m a stiuireadh.”
Before he could reply, there was a knock on his door.
“My laird?” a man’s voice inquired. “Ye’re needed in the great hall.”
“Aye,” he said. “I’ll be there shortly.”
He waited for the man’s footsteps to fade before facing Avery once more.
“We can leave tonight, after the castle is asleep. I’ll fetch ye and Cadha and take ye tae the stables. I’ll have a servant prepare our things; I’ll tell her I’m preparing for a hunting trip.”
He moved to the door, giving her another disarming smile.
“And . . . I thank ye,” he added. “For helping us.”
* * *
Back in her chamber, Avery mentally reviewed several Defensive spells she’d learned over the years. Lioslaith hadn’t blocked all of her magic—only magic that could get her off Arran Isle. She could still issue other spells.
This wasn’t enough to fill her with confidence. She recalled with a stirring of dread how Lila had told her about similar nightmares she’d had about the dark witch she would later confront. Panic flared within Avery’s belly. Unlike Lila, who had come to this time prepared to fight, she wasn’t equipped for this. You have to be, she told herself. For now. Just get Bhaltair and Cadha to safety until Lioslaith returns.
Avery remained in her chamber for the rest of the day, practicing her spells, quelling her growing anxiety, eating the meals the curious maid brought her, and trying not to feel disappointed that Bhaltair hadn’t come to see her.
By the time nightfall arrived, she waited with bated breath until the sounds of the castle fell silent and there was a knock at the door. She swung it open to find Bhaltair carrying a sleeping Cadha in his arms. The sight of them made her chest clench with an emotion she didn’t recognize; she averted her gaze and gave him an abrupt nod to indicate she was ready.
She trailed him down the silent halls of the castle until they made their way out to the courtyard. Avery held her breath as they headed toward the stables.
“I assume ye can ride?” Bhaltair whispered, gesturing to a horse once they reached the stables.
“Yes.”
It was difficult to travel through time when you couldn’t ride a horse, given that it was the primary mode of transport for much of human history. Her parents had taught her and Lila how to ride almost as soon as they could walk.
She helped Bhaltair sling two bags on the horses, Bhaltair moving carefully so as to not wake the sleeping Cadha.
And that’s when she felt it.
That same dark presence she’d sensed in her nightmare.
Avery went still, her heart pounding violently in her chest, panic swirling through her veins. Bhaltair froze as he studied her, sensing that something was wrong.
“Avery? What is it?”
“Bhaltair,” she said, her mouth dry, “I need you and Cadha to go. Now.”
The words had barely slipped past her lips when a dark figure appeared at the entrance to the stables.
The dark witch—the presence from her nightmare—had found them.
Chapter 5
“Run!” Avery shouted, turning to face the dark figure, panic washing over her.
Behind her, she could sense Bhaltair’s hesitation, but she knew his need to keep his niece safe was stronger.
“I’ll stay on the main road from the castle as long as I can. Find us,” Bhaltair said in a low voice, one for her ears only, before she heard his horse race away.
The figure moved closer, and Avery could see that it was a man. He was tall, nearly Bhaltair’s height, but rail thin, with auburn hair streaked with gray and cold black eyes set into a narrow face. There was hatred in his eyes, a hatred so fierce that she stumbled back, her fear rising as he raised his hand.
“Marbh an stiureadh seo!” he shouted.
Avery reacted fast to the Killing spell, shouting a counter spell that made it dissipate. The aingidh’s face twisted with rage, and he advanced. Terror flooded Avery’s veins, and she acted fast, raising her hand to issue a powerful Binding spell.
“Ceangail a ghairdeanan!”
He froze, but Avery knew that it was only a matter of time before he freed himself. She leapt onto her horse and tore out of the stables, her heart in her throat.
As she dashed out of the rear castle gate, which she noticed with unease was not manned by guards, she glanced behind her, fearful that the aingidh would use a Transport spell to come after her. But the aingidh stood calmly just outside the stables, his dark eyes just . . . watching her. This chilled Avery to the bone, even more so than if he were actively trying to pursue her.
She whirled back around and urged her horse faster until the castle disappeared in the distance behind her. She kept on the main road as Bhaltair had advised, and she soon spotted his horse up ahead. Only then did her breathing steady, though fear still swirled throughout her body. When she reached his side, Bhaltair gave her a look of abject relief.
“We have to move fast—he might still be after us!” Avery shouted over the sound of their pounding horse hooves.
Bhaltair nodded his agreement, leaning forward and kicking the sides of his horse, his arms still securely around young Cadha, who was now awake, her wide eyes blinking and fearful.
Avery continued to glance behind them as they rode, until the mountain of Caisteal Abhail loomed before them. They slowed the pace of their horses down to a trot, reaching a cluster of trees.
“What happened, Uncle Bhaltair?” Cadha asked, her small voice quavering as Bhaltair gently removed her from his horse. Her confused gaze swept from Avery to her uncle. “Why are we here? Who is the lady?”
“I’ll tell ye once we get settled, lass,” Bhaltair said, giving her a reassuring smile.
After they secured their horses to the trees, he gestured for Avery to follow him as he swung Cadha up into his arms.
They made their way up the side of the mountain. Still on edge, Avery kept glancing behind them, but her senses picked up no other presence; they were alone.
They continued until they reached a tucked-away cave. Avery took it in with surprise and awe; Lioslaith had indeed made a home of sorts here, with a bed pallet, two grimoires resting next to it, and several stacks of kindling for fires. She noticed that there were three additional bed pallets stashed in the corner, along with blankets and a basket of bread, as if she knew that she, Bhaltair, and Cadha would come here.
Avery stood back as Bhaltair took Cadha’
s hand, leading her to the bed pallet and placing the blanket down. Cadha slid onto the pallet, looking up at her uncle with expectant eyes.
“I never told ye this, lass, and I’m sorry for it. But I wanted ye tae nae worry yerself. Ye’re tae young for such a burden,” Bhaltair said. “But there are bad men after ye; that’s why we had tae leave the castle. We’ll return when I ken ’tis safe. This is Avery; she’s someone I ken from a faraway place, ’tis why her manner of speech may sound strange tae ye. She’s here tae help.”
For now, Avery thought with a rush of guilt. Frustration coursed through her. Where the hell was Lioslaith? Bhaltair and Cadha needed her.
Cadha’s face went white, and Bhaltair pulled her onto his lap.
“I willnae let anything happen tae ye, Cadha. I swear it,” he vowed.
“Why are these bad men after me?”
“Ye’re the heiress tae fertile lands that belong tae our clan. Whoever ye marry will get those lands. That is what they’re truly after.”
“But I donnae want lands. They can have them,” Cadha said, her bottom lip wobbling.
“I ken,” Bhaltair said with a small smile. “But they’re lands that belong tae the clan, lands men have fought and died for. ’Tis how we’ve been able tae make a home here. The lands are nae yer concern nor are these bad men. Me and the men of the clan will protect ye. Ye need nae fear.”
Cadha swallowed hard. Avery could tell that she was trying to be brave. She met her uncle’s eyes and gave him a shaky nod.
Bhaltair helped her settle onto the bed pallet and remained by her side, not moving until her eyes drifted shut.
Only then did he approach the hovering Avery, his expression grim.
“Was that the dark witch? The aingidh?” he asked, speaking in a low tone.
“Yes,” Avery said with a shudder. “Of that I have no doubt. And I noticed there were no guards manning the rear gates.”
Bhaltair's Pledge: Highlander Fate, Lairds of the Isles Book Two Page 3