Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two

by Lorraine Beaumont

  Broderick’s face turned a purplish color, his anger palpable. “Ye will be sorry for that, witch!” He lifted his fist to take out his frustration on her, but something stopped him. Slack jawed, he froze.

  I froze too. SHIT! Had my time run out? Was the monster finally here to lay claim to me? Trying not to make any sudden movements, I turned my head back towards Gavin. If I was leaving this Earth, I wanted to be sure to see him one last time, but he wasn’t looking at me. Typical, I thought. Still, I tried my best to get his attention. “I love you,” I yelled, although I doubted he could hear me over the howling wind and the sudden screams of surprise from the men, running towards me.

  Wait…that didn’t make any sense. Why in the Hell would they be running towards the water where the creature was? Then I remembered what Broderick had said about retrieving the treasure. Still, I couldn’t quite fathom the urgency since I remembered the last time the creature surfaced and I knew it wouldn’t be giving up its gold without some kind of fight.

  “Get back and fight ye cowards!” Broderick screamed, unsheathing his sword—the metal rang out with chilling clarity.

  I flinched from the sound. I was confused and rightly so. Why was Broderick yelling at his men? Tearing my eyes from Gavin, I suddenly knew the reason his men were running towards me.

  There were at least twenty other men lined up on the crest of the hill, all with swords drawn.

  “Thank God!” A surge of relief coursed through my body when I spotted the familiar faces of Alec, Graham, and Muir along with other men, ones I did not recognize.

  I turned back towards Gavin. My heart stuttered. He looked so beautiful illuminated in the glow of the full moon. My momentary relief turned quickly back into panic. “Gavin, watch out!”

  Broderick lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air.

  Gavin was slow to react. As he twisted to the side the sword nicked his shoulder. A sharp pain, accompanied by a searing heat, shot through his arm. Stumbling backward, he almost lost his footing on the rocks.

  Broderick came at him again.

  Gavin barely missed being the recipient of another deadly blow and used the opportunity to disarm Broderick. He barreled head first into his gut, knocking him backward.

  His sword clattered to the ground.

  Broderick, growled and pummeled his body with his meaty fists.

  I was freaking out. I didn’t know what to do. I was helpless. So I tried the only thing I could think of that might make Broderick get off of Gavin. I lied. “I see the treasure,” I screamed as loud as I could, hoping like hell my ruse would work.

  Broderick turned his head to look at the Loch.

  Gavin retaliated and clouted Broderick in the side of his head with both hands.

  Broderick howled and fell off his body onto the ground, grasping for his wayward sword.

  Rolling to the side, Gavin pulled his dirk out of his boot and stumbled to standing. Shaking his head, he tried to get his vision to clear and his senses back in order but it wasn’t working too well. He couldn’t tell what he was looking at. It was all a blur. But still, he tried his best to remain standing, although he found that to be a bit difficult since it seemed the Earth was moving under his feet.

  “Gavin!” I screamed in horror as the ground beneath my feet began to give way.

  All hell was breaking loose. Men were running, the ground was rumbling and if I didn’t know better, I would think the world was coming to an end.

  Broderick being the coward that he was, gave up the fight and ran in the other direction.

  Unsteady on his feet, Gavin made his way over to the shoreline. The water was bubbling up and he knew that soon the creature of the Loch would be emerging ta claim its sacrifice.

  “Give me yer hands,” he said a bit too calmly considering the situation.

  “Are you okay?” I dutifully stuck out my hands. At least the damn ground had stopped moving but the water was still making some God-awful noises.

  “Aye, I am now.”

  He gave me a brief smile of reassurance, that didn’t really reassure me at all and then cut through the ropes that bound my wrists together.

  “Lass, I need ye ta go into the mist when it comes.”

  Not this again. “You are coming with me, right?”

  “Nay. I can no go with ye, this time.”

  “I am not going either.”

  “Lass, I am not asking ye, I am telling ye.”

  “Well, too bad. I am not leaving you.”

  “When the monster comes, I have ta get the treasure.”

  Great. So we were back to that. Just like the last time I was here. What the hell! I would have pitched a fit but as it stood, the mist was already surrounding my legs, which was weird because I had yet to see the creature. And this time I didn’t feel the pull. Not even a tug. Weird.

  And granted, I was thankful the creature hadn’t shown up yet, but I still couldn’t help but wonder why. All the signs were the same. The full moon, the mist, the howling wind, even the plethora of live bodies to chow on. “Where are all the men going?” It shouldn’t have even been a topic for conversation but it seemed strange that they were running when there didn’t seem to be anything about for them to run from…well, besides the other men running after them.

  Gavin looked over his shoulder, even though it was useless since he couldn’t see a damn thing. “They are running like the cowards they are.”

  “Don’t you want to help them?” I obviously didn’t want him to go, but it seemed strange that he was not jumping into the fray with his men.

  “I have other things ta tend to.”

  A shiver of dread raced up my spine. “What things?”

  He didn’t look at my face.

  That should have been the first warning that something was wrong, well, actually, now that I thought about it, wouldn’t that be two things? He wasn’t fighting with his men, and now he wasn’t looking at my face. “What is wrong with you?”

  “I am fine,” he told her, although that was a lie. He was sick to his stomach, which wasn’t that bad but he also couldn’t see very well. How he even got to her was still a mystery to Gavin.

  I didn’t believe him for a minute. “Gavin, what is wrong with you?”

  “I…I…” He stumbled forward.

  I wrapped my arms around him, trying to keep him upright. “Gavin…”

  He was dead weight.

  “Gavin…”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  The Past-Greystone Castle

  It was a dud. A dud.

  All the hoopla surrounding the infamous treasure of Loch Morar and the creature that guarded it was a big old dud…well…at least this time it was.

  Not that I was complaining. At least I was still in the past with Gavin, and we were now safely ensconced back within the walls of Greystone with the help of Muir, Alec, and Graham. The rest of the men that had come to help in the battle (maybe a skirmish was a better word, it wasn’t that big, and it didn’t last that long) I presumed left. I didn’t ask because I had other matters to attend to which was bringing an unconscious Gavin back to Greystone.

  All the men that were here with Broderick had either been killed in the skirmish or taken themselves off to who knew where. Not that I was complaining, I was glad they were gone. But where did they go? And more importantly, where did Broderick go? After his attempt at killing Gavin went to the wayside and the Earth started to move (which was just too weird to even comment on) he had taken off running. After that I had no idea where he went. And I really didn’t care as long as he stayed gone, however, knowing Broderick, and the fact that the elusive treasure was still unfound, I was sure he would be returning. How could he not? Wasn’t that what all the killing had been for? I didn’t know. And unfortunately, I doubted I would be finding out anytime soon.

  Reaching down, I pressed the back of my hand to Gavin’s forehead. It felt warm but not overly so. Since Gavin had fallen on me at t
he Loch, he hadn’t regained consciousness. That was three days ago.

  There was a lot of things I didn’t understand. Why was he unconscious? Why didn’t the creature make an appearance? All the signs were there that night. The full moon, the mist, a plethora of live bodies for food and yet, other than the Earth moving up and down and the water bubbling, nothing happened. Well, a lot happened that night…but no creature.

  Still, no matter how many times I moved the events around in my head, I still couldn’t figure out why it didn’t happen.

  And even now, when all the drama was over, I still couldn’t help feeling that something felt off. Well, to be honest there were a few things off. I was the one in charge now. Muir, Alec, and Graham had reluctantly left with my urging to retrieve Callum from Shamus. Now I was all alone in the castle tending to Gavin, who by all accounts should be awake, but he was not. I didn’t know what to make of it.

  Pressing my hand to my aching back, I stood up from the edge of the bed, crossed the room and poured more water into a bowl, then took it back to the bed. Sitting down once again, I dipped the rag inside the bowl, got it nice and wet, then squeezed out the excess water, and placed it back on his forehead. I wasn’t sure if it even helped but it gave me something to do. Once I finished that, I stood up, crossed the room, and tossed some more wood on the fire. Muir had made sure I had a good-sized pile before he left.

  Reaching over, I patted Elvis’ head. “Good boy.” I kept him in the room, not only for company but also because he would alert me if anyone came back inside the castle.

  Not having anything else to occupy my time, I decided to try to get some sleep. Taking off my shoes, I crawled up beside Gavin, and laid down. Within moments, I was sound asleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  The Past-Greystone Castle

  Gavin was in the midst of the same nightmare that kept replaying itself over and over again in his unconscious mind.

  He was back a Loch Morar and this time, Jillian was there but she didn’t look the same. His lass, Paige, was there as well. He couldn’t quite grasp why he was seeing both of them at the same time. Paige was standing in front of the Loch and Jillian was laughing. Not at him, but at his lass. His heart tugged in two separate directions.

  “What are ye doing?” he asked and his voice vibrated strangely in his ears.

  “I’m helping you get the treasure,” she said, gleefully.

  The answer was innocent enough, he supposed, but something about her demeanor set his nerves on edge. “How?”

  “We are going to use her.” Jillian pointed her finger at Paige.

  Gavin shook his head. “Jillian, she is no going ta be a sacrifice.”

  “Of course, she is. That’s what she is here for.”

  “Nay.” He shook his head again. “There must be another way.”

  “No, my Laird.” She laughed again and her voice crackled eerily reminding him of someone else. “Why else would she be here? She is the one you have fallen in love with and now, she must be sacrificed.”

  “Nay, Jillian, I love ye.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew what he was saying was no longer true. He loved her at one time, aye, but not now.

  “See,” she taunted. “You have just come to realize what I’ve known all along.”

  Before Gavin could move, or say another word, the monster emerged from the Loch. The scaly head listed back and forth about to strike his lass.

  “Naaaaay….”

  ♦

  Gavin jerked awake. His entire body hurt but at the same time he was uncomfortably aroused. Blinking, he tried to see, but the room was dim. And even though he could not see very well he felt, rather than saw, that he was home again. Had it all been a nightmare? He couldn’t help but wonder. He tried to sit up and groaned in pain. Falling back on the pillows, he shut his eyes once again.

  “Shhh,” said a familiar voice as the bed gave at his side. “It’s all right my love, I am here now.”

  Cool, clammy, hands slid up his thighs and wrapped around his jutting erection.

  Gavin pulled in a sharp intake of air. “Lass,” he half moaned/groaned. Reaching down, he grabbed her hands and opened his eyes. In disbelief, he stared up at the crimson haired beauty. The one that had plagued him many a night in his dreams. Sure he was dreaming, he closed his eyes and reopened them again.

  She was still there.

  “Jillian?”

  ♥

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  Lost in the Highlands, the Thirteen Scotsman, Book Three © 2017 by Lorraine Beaumont

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  Cottage – Somewhere on Greystone Lands

  Morag pounded another nail into the floorboards. “Good-riddance,” she said, swinging the hammer madly to bring home the last nail. Once she was sure the boards were going to stay put, she stood up and pressed her hands into her lower back. She wasn’t the young miss she once was, but even she had to admit, after the last full moon, she did feel significantly spryer. A good spell would do that, she thought. Looking at the cauldron simmering away inside the hearth, she wondered how much time she had left. That damn Highlander was delaying things, things she need ta accomplish, all because of his contrary emotions. “Och, I no want this one. The lass, is no good enough,” she mimicked with irritation.

  A thump and a groan of pain sounded from under the floorboards stopping her rant.

  “Och!” She stomped her foot down. “Shut yer mouth or I will be giving ye something ta complain about.”

  The groaning and thumping abruptly stopped.

  She smiled, revealing four missing teeth. “There now, see, I am no inhospitable.”

  Brushing off her hands, and glancing one last time at her handiwork, she walked back outside of the cottage, her cottage, and looked up at the sky, biding her time until the next full moon. Then she would have everything promised to her—she could hardly wait.

  ♦

  THIRD PERSON VERSION

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY- NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY -THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY- FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT LORRAINE

  For Paige Walsh
r />   Wherever you are

  PART TWO

  THIRD PERSON VERSION

  CHAPTER ONE

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  The smell of rotting flesh permeated the air. Gavin de Gray lifted his head, casting his gaze to the dead body hanging on the wall next to him, and choked back a mouthful of bile rising from his throat.

  Angus had been dead for over a week and the vile creatures scurrying about were making fast work of removing more pieces of skin from his body.

  To block out the disturbing sight, he closed his eyes once more. There was no alternative, it was either that or watch more of his friend disappear.

  He owed his friend a great deal of thanks.

  Angus’s passing into the hereafter had turned out to be a boon for Gavin since it kept the rodents at bay for a wee bit longer.

  He jerked on his restraints. The metal shackles surrounding his wrists made a clattering sound against the stonewall.

  The rats scurried away, giving Gavin a short reprieve from the holy unnatural noise of flesh being torn from bone.

  “Psst, my laird,” a low voice called from the corner of the dank room.

  “Bloody Hell, Callum, I told ye to quit calling me that,” Gavin snapped.

  “Tis who ye are. Why do ye not want me to call ye laird? It tis yer right, ye earned it, did ye not?”

  “I already told ye that if they hear I am laird they will surely have me dancing from the end of rope before sunrise. Is that what ye want?”

  “I was only trying to be respectful,” Callum grumbled.

  “Find another way ta be respectful.”

  “Och, how am I ta do that shackled against a wall such as this?”