Highlander Hunted: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 8)

by Rebecca Preston

  They made love long into the night. And when she finally fell asleep in his arms, she wasn't disturbed by a single dream.

  They woke slowly the next day, and later than she was accustomed to. The sun was already creeping across the floor, and she stirred a little before realizing that she was being prevented from leaving the bed by Brendan's arm, thrown protectively over her body. She grinned a little, shifting under the embrace, and giggled when he groaned his protest. Those blue eyes flicked open and she smiled softly at him, taken aback by how gorgeous he was.

  "Good morning," he said softly, clearly admiring her the same way she was admiring him. "I must say, you're a wonderful sight to wake up to."

  "So are you," she said, grinning a little as a blush rose to her cheeks. "Last night was… wonderful."

  "I wish we could stay in bed," he said softly, a regretful look crossing his face. "But I think we'd best head downstairs, with everything going on…"

  "Yeah. Back to reality," she said regretfully, going to rise to her feet. But before she could, he pounced, drawing her to him and kissing her deeply. Her body, still half-asleep, responded enthusiastically, and she found herself breathing hard when he finally released her, an amused look dancing in her eyes.

  "Right," he said firmly. "Now we can go back."

  She laughed, shaking her head as she dressed herself, a little embarrassed by how far-flung her clothing was — it seemed they'd been in quite a hurry to get each other undressed the night before. Brendan, too, was chucking as he tracked down his clothing. They had to spend a few minutes searching for his boots — one was by the bed, but the other was nowhere to be found. Eventually they discovered it lying on top of his wardrobe, and both of them collapsed into a fit of laughter as he retrieved it.

  God, it felt good to be in his company, she thought, smiling at him as they headed down to breakfast. She only wished that she could focus on this, on this exciting new step in their relationship. She'd been worried that sex would change their dynamic, somehow… a part of her had been worried that sex had been all he'd wanted from her, she supposed. But it seemed to have only deepened their connection. She felt like she knew him better somehow, now… like seeing that more vulnerable side to him had taught her more about him than she'd known before. Maybe he knew her better, too.

  But the Black Annis was still out there, and the somber mood in the dining hall went some way to squashing the glow of pleasure that was still buzzing in her veins. They served themselves some breakfast and sat together, talking quietly in the hushed atmosphere of the room. Some of the men sitting at the table with them were familiar — she realized they were the guards who'd been on the wall the night before, when they'd returned from the disastrous attack on the cave.

  "The lost men are to be buried today," one of the guards explained, a shadow over his face. "Their families want a small ceremony — just close family."

  Helena sighed, a little regretful at that. She'd have liked to go along to the funeral, to pay her respects to the men who'd lost their lives… but it was important to respect the wishes of the family, especially at a time like this. It wasn't long before conversation at the table had turned to the Black Annis. She'd hoped that the attack on its lair would have made it think twice about going venturing out across the moors, but that didn't seem to be the case.

  "There were a few sightings over at Lord Weatherby's, so I heard," one of the guards was saying. It seemed that word was moving fast now that the seriousness of the threat was fully understood — messengers had been running back and forth, sharing news between the castle and the manor even overnight. "The creature was spotted among the flocks, trying to track down baby lambs… oh, and it followed one of the messengers on horseback a few miles. It's terrifyingly fast," he said, his eyes wide. "The runner said he only barely outpaced it at a full gallop."

  "It's hunting people now?" Brendan asked, a frown on his face. "That's not good."

  "Is it true that nothing harms it?" the guard wanted to know. His eyes were alive with fear. "Is it true that it's impervious to all weapons?"

  "No," Brendan said firmly. "We don't know that. All we know is that it's a difficult creature to do any harm to — but that doesn't mean we can't."

  The guard nodded, clearly not convinced that he was wrong about it being indestructible. Brendan sighed, and made his goodbyes not long after — he was meeting with the Laird to give him a full report about what had happened the day before.

  "You're welcome to come with me," he said with a shrug. "But I thought you might want to meet with Fiona and Marianne about… well, about what insights they might have," he said meaningfully.

  She nodded quickly, catching his drift. Seeking the counsel of witches wasn't exactly the kind of thing you said out loud… but she was definitely going to go and see what the women had to say about everything.

  She found Marianne and Fiona together, outside in the stables. It seemed the search parties, leaving as quickly as they had the day before, had left something of a mess — Marianne was working to put the stables back in order, Fiona taking advantage of the opportunity to chat with her coven mate. Helena joined them and was quickly put to work too, disentangling a pile of tack that had been left in a heap.

  "I understand why they did it," Marianne said irritably as she cleaned a saddle. "There were injuries and deaths to be dealt with. It's a mess, though."

  "What happened exactly?" Fiona asked curiously. "I've heard about a dozen versions, but I trust yours more than the gossip mill's."

  Helena took a deep breath and set about telling the story of what had happened the day before. It was frustrating not to have proper details of the cave — she kept wanting to know herself what had happened down there. But all she could do was describe the beginning of the assault… and its disastrous end.

  "Those poor men," Marianne said heavily, shaking her head as she finished the story. "And those poor children."

  "What are they going to do about the children?" Fiona said sharply. "We can't just leave them there in that creature's lair — they'll be terrified."

  "There's not much we can do," Helena said, rubbing her face tiredly. "The men who attacked the creature said they couldn't do any harm to it… if we sent more men in, all that's going to happen is more death and more injuries. The men yesterday didn't even find the children — though Baldric said he could hear them crying at the back of the cave somewhere."

  "Awful," Fiona said softly. "But it's a good sign that they were alive, at least. Maybe that means the creature is… well, trying to take care of them a little, at least. That would make sense, if we're right about it being a mother."

  "I guess so — but all it eats is raw lamb. It's hardly going to be able to feed those children… not to mention how traumatized they must be, hiding in the dark down there. We have to get them out of there. We have to find a way of beating her," Helena said, feeling exhausted and powerless as she struggled with the tangled pile of tack. "How the hell did these bridles get so tangled? It's like someone was trying to tie them together —"

  "Take a deep breath, babe," Fiona said affectionately. "The bridles aren't what's important. What's important is figuring out how to kill this monster."

  "You're right." Helena sighed, giving up on the tangle for now.

  Marianne adroitly took it from her and set about untangling it herself, her sharp eyes resting on Helena. "You holding up okay?"

  "I'm fine." She shrugged. "I just — I'd really like to focus on something other than this monster, you know?" She couldn't help herself… the secret had been burning in her chest all morning and she couldn't resist the urge to share it with her friends. "I stayed with Brendan last night."

  Marianne's eyes widened, and Fiona punched the air, cackling out loud in triumph. "You did?"

  "I did," she said, smiling — then felt herself immediately swamped by a familiar worry. "Is that bad? Should I have held off, waited til marriage or —"

  "Don't be stupid," Fiona said dismis
sively — then blinked at the sharp look Marianne shot her. "No. Not stupid. Sorry. But — seriously, don't worry at all. All that stuff about sex being something to keep until you're married is… well, it's not so much a thing here," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems it was invented a little later."

  "And Brendan's a good man," Marianne reassured her, smiling. "He'd never treat you poorly just because —" She was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Was it good?"

  "Yep," Helena said, not especially wanting to go into detail — but she grinned ruefully as both of the women collapsed into giggles. "What? It was! I had a very good time. What, do you want a review or something?"

  "I'm happy for you, sweetheart," Marianne said with a gentle smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "You deserve some happiness. Something to take your mind off all this horror."

  "I think I've got an idea about the Black Annis, too," Fiona said thoughtfully. "I don't think Brendan's going to like it, though." Her eyes twinkled. "Good thing you've got him wrapped around your little finger now, right?"

  "I don't know about that," she said hesitantly, feeling herself blush. "I mean… he listens to me, I guess. What's the idea?"

  "Well — our theory is that this creature is Anne, right? A latent witch, transformed by her grief into this… this magical monster." Fiona was frowning as she fiddled with the tack in her hands, clearly distracted from the task by her theorizing. "So if we take that as truth… she's just a regular woman who's under a spell, right? So to turn her back from an invincible monster to a regular human being, we just need to break that spell."

  "Easier said than done," Marianne said with a frown. "If she's really that powerful a creature — and from what Helena's told us, she definitely is — then it's powerful magic that's transformed her. Spells like that aren't easy to break by force."

  "Then we don't use force," Fiona said simply. "We use our wits, as witches have been doing for centuries and will be doing for centuries after we're gone."

  "And how do we do that?" Helena asked.

  Fiona shrugged. "Don't know. I was trying to draw on the brain trust of our little coven, here."

  That made Helena smile. "Am I part of the coven?"

  "Honorary member," Fiona said with a grin. "Pending full approval once we figure out what kind of powers you've got."

  She hesitated, a little unnerved by the talk of magic… but hadn't she been thinking about this earlier? Hadn't she been wondering what her dreams meant? Who better to ask than these women, who knew more about magic than anyone in the area — who wouldn't think she was crazy for bringing it up? "I have had some more dreams," she admitted.

  Fiona leaned forward, her eyes alight with interest. "Why didn't you say so? What dreams?"

  "I've had the same one a few times, but there was more to this one," she said, biting her lip. "I was walking through the mist… but then I realized I was in the cave, and the mist wasn't actually mist, it was… it was me. I was making the mist, stopping myself from seeing what was really there, somehow. And when I realized that… I saw that I was scraping at the cave walls with my talons."

  "You were the Annis," Fiona breathed. "What else did you see?"

  "Not much," she admitted, shrugging. "But I remember feeling… just so desperately sad, and alone. I was walking through the cave calling out for someone."

  "That's it," Fiona said softly. "That's how we beat her."

  Chapter 26

  “What do you mean?" Marianne looked nonplussed. "What's the plan?"

  "It all makes sense," Fiona said brightly. "The Black Annis… she's Anne, right? It was her grief that transformed her into this… she went mad because she'd lost her daughter, she'd lost Brigid. That's why she's out there on the moors, that's why she's kidnapping children… she's lonely. She misses her daughter. That's the key. That's how we get to her."

  "With her daughter?" Helena bit her lip. "That seems pretty dangerous. Every time she's seen me she's tried to kill me." She hesitated. "At least… I thought she was. Maybe she was just… reaching out for me." She sighed. "She doesn't know what she's doing, that's the worst part. If what I saw was really an insight into what she's going through… she's basically in a trance. She doesn't know how much she's hurting people, how much harm she's doing…"

  "It's her own mind that's turned her into the monster," Fiona said simply, spreading her hands. "So the key to turning her back is in the same place. We just have to find out how to reach her."

  "I'll give it some thought," Helena said with a shrug. "I'll talk to Brendan, see what he thinks. He knew Anne better than anyone… knew what she was going through. Maybe he'll have some insight into what we can do."

  "Good thinking," Marianne said brightly. "And thanks for your help, here."

  "I didn't do much." Helena shrugged.

  "I think you do more than you think," Marianne said with a smile.

  She left them in the stables and headed back toward the Keep deep in thought about what they'd said about Anne. Was it possible that the secret to defeating her could be as simple as encouraging her to change back into herself? Could that even be possible? The idea of fixing the problem without hurting Anne was certainly a welcome one… but she was worried about how dangerous it was. Still, it would be worth talking to Brendan about it once she found him.

  But Brendan was nowhere to be found. It seemed he was helping with the funerals for the men who'd been lost the day before and would be back that evening. So Helena was at a loose end. She wandered the castle a little, then wound up in the library. Figuring it might be useful to look into the myth of the Black Annis a little, she hunted down some books of folklore and settled in for the afternoon to do some reading… but by the time night fell, she was just frustrated. Every mention of Annis just described her as a horrible old hag with blue skin and sharp teeth, warning that the grinding sound indicated that she was near, describing various horrible rituals that were supposed to keep her at bay… including dragging the corpse of a cat soaked in aniseed past her lair, something that made Helena feel faintly sick. She loved cats. And she strongly doubted that a dead cat would do anything against the creature she was trying to deal with.

  When she emerged for dinner, though, she found to her relief that Brendan was back. He looked solemn and tired — understandable after a day of funerals — but he smiled wanly at her when he saw her, and they headed into the dining hall to have the evening meal together. It felt great to be in his company again, and she had to stop herself from sitting too closely, aware that they were in public. She hoped he'd be amenable to having her stay in his room again… the thought of her own lonely little bed was almost unbearable now that she knew what delights were available to her…

  "I had a bit of a meeting with Fiona and Marianne," she said quietly once they'd finished eating and were heading up the stairs. Brendan looked over at her, his interest piqued by this.

  "Any insights?"

  "A few. They think the way to go about dealing with the Annis is to encourage her to break the spell she's cast on herself," she explained after checking that they wouldn't be overheard. "A psychological solution." She'd explained to Brendan the theory that Anne had transformed as a way to escape her own grief and rage at the loss of her daughter.

  "How would we do that?" he frowned. "She's not exactly the kind of creature you can stand and reason with…"

  "I think it might have something to do with me," she said with a shrug. "I mean… I look just like Brigid. Maybe if I go to her, tell her that I've returned... maybe that would be enough to -"

  "No way," he said immediately, his face closing. "It's far too dangerous. I won't risk losing you like that. No, Helena. It's a good thought, but… we'll think of something else."

  She frowned to herself, but she decided to let it go for now. After all, he was exhausted. But she couldn't shake the feeling that, as risky as it sounded, her plan was their best hope for handling the Black Annis… and saving the children before it was too late. She followed him
into his quarters, though, looking forward to spending the night in his arms.

  The night passed very pleasantly indeed… but the next day brought grim news. Helena headed to her room briefly for a change of clothes, then down the stairs, hoping to have breakfast with Brendan. They hadn't discussed the Black Annis since last night, and she had plans to bring up her idea again now that the two of them were a little less stressed and probably better rested… but unfortunately, it seemed like the rest of the folk of the castle were going to obstruct that conversation. There were groups of people standing around in the entrance hall, deep in conversation, and Laird Donal himself was standing on the steps, calling for quiet. Helena joined a little group, peering up curiously at the Laird.

  "Just to make it clear," Laird Donal said firmly. "There have been no attacks, and no further injuries at the hands of the creature."

  Helena's heart sank into her shoes. What was going on? Had there been further sightings of the creature? Everyone seemed so afraid — she felt a brief flare of guilt that she and Brendan had spent the night together. They'd been so invested in each other's company that they'd clearly missed something significant happening outside of the walls…

  "What happened?" one of the guards demanded, his eyes wide.

  "The creature has been sighted climbing the walls of the Keep," Laird Donal said, his jaw tight. He raised his hand to quell a sudden roar of noise as all of the gathered people turned to discuss this revelation amongst themselves. "It had reached the third floor of the Keep when it was spotted by a guard on duty and the alarm was raised. It was shot at with arrows, which seemed to discourage it a little, but didn't do it any harm. What did seem effective at banishing it were bright lights. Our guard captain Eamon thought quickly and shot flaming arrows at the creature — that was enough to see it scurry down the walls and away across the moor."