Though they fought ferociously, it soon became clear that Darach had been wise to whip the dagger into the man’s shoulder. It was just enough to slow him down and leave him vulnerable when the lethal swipe came and opened his throat. Furious, Eoghan growled as the man fell to his knees in front of Darach.
“Darach,” Jackie warned as black started to crackle around Eoghan. “Watch out. Eoghan’s not too happy.”
But Darach was far too busy fighting off several more men who lunged at him. Why didn’t her father’s men—well, Gwendolyn’s father’s men—help? But deep down she knew. If they did, not only their lives but those of their families would be in jeopardy.
Eoghan raised his arms and started chanting.
“No, stop,” she cried, but it was too late. He had summoned evil.
Jackie didn’t think but leapt in front of Eoghan before he brought his wrath down on Darach. Regrettably, she caught the full impact of his fury. She was hit so hard her feet left the ground, and she landed on her back. Pain burned and ripped through her chest.
Inescapable, blinding pain.
“Darach, I’m scared,” she whispered as she stared up at the blue sky and something warm trickled from the corner of her lips. “Everything’s going numb again.”
From far, far away she heard both Darach and Eoghan’s roars of denial. Then she heard Chiomara scream. Yet even that drifted farther and farther away as darkness descended.
And her last breath rattled from her lips.
Chapter Twelve
“JACKIE? CAN YOU HEAR me?” Darach had never felt such fear...such pain. Not just his own but what Devlin once felt. “Dinnae leave me, lass.”
Enraged and terrified, Darach took down one last man willing to rush him despite what had happened. By the time he made it to Jackie, her head rested in Chiomara’s lap, and a wide, black burn scarred her chest. Head bent, the druidess remained unnaturally quiet and still as Darach fell to his knees beside her moments after Eoghan.
She couldn’t be dead.
She just couldn’t be.
“Ye did this,” Eoghan seethed at him. “She was always mine. Never yours.”
“Nay,” Chiomara said softly, her eyes slowly rising to Eoghan. “She was always Devlin’s, and ye bloody well knew it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Her blood will forever be on your hands, druid. Ye did this when ye forced Gwendolyn to be yours. When ye threatened our people if ye could not have your way.”
Horrified, Eoghan stared at Jackie and shook his head. “Nay, I will not let her go.” He flung his head back, closed his eyes and started chanting. “I call on Balor, God of Death, give me this lass, and I will belong to ye for all eternity.”
“Nay,” Chiomara cried before she flung her head back, closed her eyes and started chanting. “I call on Brigit, Goddess of Divination, to protect my sister’s soul from evil. For this, I will forever do your bidding.”
Wind whipped and immense power fluctuated around the druids. Darach pulled Jackie onto his lap. “I’ve got you, lass,” he whispered in her ear, his brogue thickening with emotion. “I’ll never let ye go.” Then it was Devlin speaking. “I’ll find ye life after life till we can be together again. He will never have you.”
Yet even as he said it, he knew it was being taken out of his hands...out of Devlin’s.
The grass around Eoghan started to die as he continued chanting. Determined to keep Jackie free of his taint, Darach lifted her and staggered against the wind-driven magic toward the oak. More and more land died as the wind grew colder. By the time he sank down against the tree with her on his lap, their surroundings had begun to look eerily familiar.
The riverbed went dry. Leaves turned brown and fell from their limbs. Even the ocean seemed darker and more sinister.
Everything was turning into the Otherworld.
A place, it seemed, solely created for and by this event.
Darach pulled her closer as dark clouds started to twist over Eoghan. Yet something else happened as well. A golden light formed around Chiomara until a beautiful, glowing woman materialized.
“Ye called on me, child,” the woman said. “Ye wish me to save your sister’s soul.”
“Aye, Goddess Brigit.” Chiomara lowered her head. “In exchange, I will do anything ye ask of me.”
“Anything?” Brigit kept her gaze steady. “’Tis a great feat ye ask of me, Druidess. One that will require sacrifice.”
“Anything at all,” Chiomara reiterated. “My sister has watched over me and protected me when others would not. I will do the same for her.”
Brigit considered her for a moment before her eyes drifted to Darach and Jackie. A blink later, she stood in front of them. He was unprepared for the emotion that blew through him when her eyes locked with his. While he knew it was the goddess’s power, he also realized it was a reflection of what existed inside him. His feelings for Jackie. “Such love ye have for this lass, warrior,” she whispered. “Timeless. Enviable. Worth repeating.”
The dark cloud grew thicker and thicker over Eoghan.
“Come here, Druidess Chiomara,” Brigit said as she made a fist then rubbed her fingers together. Bright light glowed then faded as she crouched. The Goddess took Jackie’s hand and slid a ring on it.
The ring.
Jackie’s Claddagh ring.
“This is the first of its kind and will protect your sister in the afterlife,” Brigit murmured to Chiomara before her eyes met Darach’s. “She will find ye again in other lives as will the ring when ‘tis meant to be. ‘Twill help protect her against evil. But so too will it make her a beacon.”
Dumbfounded but grateful, he whispered, “Thank ye.”
“As with any divine spell, there must be a price paid. A sacrifice.” Sadness filled her eyes. “Hers will be to forever die young as she did in this life. A repeated cycle to keep the balance.”
Darach felt her revelation like a punch to the gut. No wonder Jackie was sick.
Brigit’s eyes went to Chiomara. “Though ye will remember very little of what happens here today, ye must sacrifice as well. Great darkness comes to assist Eoghan, and we must remain one step ahead. For at least this lifetime, I will redirect the druid’s passion for Gwendolyn so that he desires ye instead and does not pursue your sister right away.”
“Aye, Goddess,” Chiomara said. “Of course.”
“When I leave here, ye shall travel the land of Eire and begin helping others,” Brigit said. “Ye will become well known as a great Druidess.”
The dark cloud had nearly twisted into the shape of a man when the oak died. But not before its last acorn fell into the goddess’s hand. “As I now deem foretold by the others, ye will someday be called to the circle of stones beneath the oak. That oak will be the offspring of this acorn and well-aged indeed. Like every oak born of it, ‘twill be a Tree of Life. There ye will come together with Erc Breac, King of Dalriada.”
When Chiomara’s brows perked, Brigit held up a finger of warning. “’Twill be, but one coupling only before Fionn Mac Cumhail delivers something to ye. When asked, ye will give them to me. Do ye understand?”
“Aye.” Chiomara murmured a prayer. “’Twill be as ye wish, Goddess.”
Brigit was about to say something else when the ground trembled.
Balor had arrived.
“Ye will answer for this Brigit!” he roared seconds before the Goddess flung up her arms and a bright light blinded Darach. Then it faded only to be replaced by images twisting around him. The dead oak at his back then a gnarly oak overseeing five standing stones, then the oak growing up the side of the mountain in Scotland. Next came the oak in front of MacLomain Castle then the oak in front of the Colonial in New Hampshire.
Then all went dark.
Silent.
“Wake up, Son. Ye must wake up now.”
“Da?” he tried to say, but nothing came out. He felt heavy, weighed down...lost.
“Follow the sound of my voice,” Grant urged, distressed. “And find your way
back to me, Darach.”
“Aye,” he managed to whisper as he trailed after his father’s voice. Strong magic kept drawing him further and further out. As it did, the darkness finally faded away. The moment he was able to, he searched out Jackie. She was still in his arms, on his lap, with her cheek pressed against his chest.
“Jackie?” Fear gripped him as he tried to figure out if she was breathing, if she was alive. “Speak to me, lass.”
“Shh, Darach,” Erin whispered. “Your dad’s bringing her back.”
Only then did he realize they had returned to the small cave off the glade. Not only were Grant and Erin there, but Heidrek and Rònan. His cousin gripped his shoulder in support but remained silent as Grant held Jackie’s hands and kept chanting with an intense look on his face.
Suddenly, Jackie gasped and arched.
“Bloody hell,” Darach murmured and kept a firm hold on her. “I’ve got ye, lass.”
She blinked rapidly and inhaled several more times before her eyes shot to him. “What happened? Where are we?”
“We’re back in the cave.” His heart hammered as he rubbed her arms. “You’re okay. Alive.”
Jackie felt her chest where Eoghan’s burn mark had been. “I don’t understand...how...”
When she trailed off, Grant spoke. “Erin had a vision out by the fire. She was with you in the Celtic Otherworld. She saw Jackie attacked by Eoghan then nothing more.”
“When we got in here you two were like this but...” Erin cleared her throat and cocked the corner of her lip. “Let’s just say the four of us saw more of you both than you’d probably like.”
Jackie’s cheeks reddened as she peered around at the clothing tossed around on the cave floor. “Oh, God.”
Erin looked at Darach. “You can thank your dad for flicking his wrist and getting you both dressed so quickly.”
Darach nodded at his father who appeared more troubled than ever.
“I’ve been in your minds and know everything that happened,” Grant said. “I think ‘tis best that we try to find Fionn Mac Cumhail and share this information. For he delivered the three original rings to Chiomara. Those that were given to Brigit when the time was right.” His eyes fell to Jackie’s ring, and he shook his head. “It has long been rumored that a fourth ring was created for Chiomara. But I’ve never heard that she had a sister, and the ring was hers. A ring more powerful and dangerous than any other.”
He was about to say more when it flickered.
“Och,” Grant murmured as both black and light bluish gray swirled within the stone at its center. “I dinnae like this in the least.”
Everyone stared at it, confused.
“I thought I saw it flicker black when Jackie and I were at Hamilton Castle,” Darach said.
Jackie’s eyes met his. “And I thought I saw it flicker bluish gray before we ended up in Ireland."
“Black to represent Eoghan’s eyes,” Grant said softly. “Bluish gray to represent Darach’s.” His frown deepened. “An unnatural love triangle tainted even further by Balor, the Celtic demonic God of Death. A demon verra slighted indeed when Brigit gave Gwendolyn that ring and a soul escaped his clutch.” He looked at Jackie. “Your soul, lass."
“Now I better ken why the Genii Cucullati are assisting the demi-god,” Grant continued. “They gain great respect and power by aiding the demi-god’s master, Balor. As close as a god can get to the Celts’ version of Satan.”
“Damn,” Erin murmured. “This just keeps getting crazier and crazier.”
“Are you telling me that the devil is after my soul?” Jackie whispered.
“’Tis verra possible,” Grant said gently and squeezed her hand. “But ye’ve got quite a powerful champion in Brigit.” He shook his head. “We will figure all this out soon enough. Right now we must focus on the here and now. I just used a tremendous amount of magic to get you back safely. And I suspect the ring senses Eoghan when he’s drawing closer.” He stood. “That means Keir Hamilton likely knows we’re here and time is verra limited.”
He no sooner said it when Niall spoke within their minds. “Trouble comes!”
Grant’s eyes met Darach’s. “Stay with the lass and protect her. Regain your strength. We will return soon.”
“No, I’ll stay,” Erin said. “It seems to me you’re gonna need all the wizards you can get.”
“And at least one of them needs to stay with Jackie,” Grant said. “She’s far too vulnerable. Though you and Rònan cannae shift here, you’re a strong warrior, Erin. Come with us.”
Erin nodded before she looked at Jackie. “Sit tight. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, go. Protect Robert and William,” she said, voice stronger than he expected. “We’re right behind you.”
The second they left, Jackie rested her cheek and a shaky hand against Darach’s chest, whispering, “I just need a sec. I feel like I just ran ten marathons in a row.”
“You did one way or another.” He stroked her hair, so damn grateful she was alive. “You gave me a good scare, lass. I’ve never been so bloody frightened.”
Jackie took several deep breaths. “Honestly? Me neither. That was terrifying.”
“Aye, murder is.”
“No, you misunderstand,” Jackie whispered before she met his eyes. “I wasn’t scared of dying. I’ve been ready for that for a while now.” She shook her head. “What scared me was that you almost died.”
His heart leapt at the emotion in her voice. “But I didnae.”
“But you will if you love me.” Her eyes grew moist. “And I don’t think I can go through that again.”
“I don’t think either of us has much choice,” he said softly. “Because I cannae stop loving you. Even if I could, I wouldnae.”
“Damn it, Darach,” she whispered. “You’re so stubborn.”
“Nay, just human.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “We’re in this together whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t. Not at all.” She crawled off his lap. “Love shouldn’t mean death.”
“People love then die all the time.” He leapt to his feet and helped her when she stood. “’Tis inevitable. If our time comes sooner than most, so be it.”
“Aren’t you the optimist.” She leaned against him as she tried to regain her balance. “My time is coming no matter what. Yours doesn’t have to.”
“This is an argument you’ll never win,” he said, overly aware that she trembled from weakness. “So why waste any more time speaking of it?”
Her eyes met his. “Because I can be just as stubborn as you, Darach Hamilton.”
He grinned. “We’ll see.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips thinned. “You’re impossible.”
“Aye.”
“I still can’t believe you gave me a fighting lesson when you were in so much danger,” she complained.
“Did it keep you distracted?”
Her eyes widened. “You know it did.”
“Then ‘twas the perfect time to teach you.” He winked. “It kept your mind off your fear, and you learned a thing or two.”
Jackie grumbled to herself, shook her head then refocused.
“We need to get out there,” she said. “They need our help.”
“There is nothing you can do in your current state.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“I can stand just fine on my own,” she murmured and stepped away.
When her knees buckled, he wrapped an arm around her lower back and pulled her against him. He only meant to stabilize her, but when her hand met his chest, and her eyes rose to his, he knew the tremor that rippled through her now had nothing to do with what they’d been through. No, it had to do with right here.
Right now.
Stark desire.
“We need to help them,” she whispered as her eyes fell to his lips.
“But ye cannae,” he whispered back as his eyes fell to hers as well.
; Heat fluctuated between them. A need that had no place here when a battle might rage beyond. Yet they pressed closer, caught in the magic of being together. Caught up in being them again, not two star-crossed lovers from ancient Ireland. He had nearly closed the distance and kissed her when a yelp then whinny echoed through the cave.
Jackie frowned. “What was that?”
When a low growl resounded, he positioned himself in front of her, cursing when he realized he had no weapons.
“Hell,” he murmured as a huge black wolf lumbered into the cave. Blood dripped steadily from its chest as it bared its teeth and kept growling.
“Dinnae move or say a word,” Darach said into Jackie’s mind.
“It’s injured badly.”
“Aye, and ‘tis not happy about it.”
“We’ve got to help it.”
“We do?”
“Of course!” He heard the frown in her voice. “It’s scared and injured.”
“And nearly my size,” he pointed out. “’Tis one hellishly large wolf and we have nothing to defend ourselves with.”
“We have your magic in a pinch.”
Darach frowned. “Aye, but I get the sense this wolf has a certain familiarity with magic.”
“Then we’re going to have to risk it,” Jackie said.
“Where are you, Wolf?” someone yelled from outside.
The wolf swung its head back moments before it sunk to its haunches.
“Oh shoot,” Jackie murmured.
Darach grabbed her arm when she headed that way. “Wait, lass.”
“There ye are,” came a voice before young Grant rushed into the cave and fell to his knees beside the wolf. “Och, laddie, nay.”
When Darach whispered, “Bloody hell,” Grant’s eyes shot to him.
Their gazes locked.
There was nothing quite like meeting your father when he was still a teenager. When Grant leapt in front of the wolf and whipped out two daggers, Darach put his hands in the air, shook his head and spoke softly. “We mean ye no harm, lad.” He nodded at the wolf. “We only meant to help yer beastie. Nothing more.”
When Grant took a few steps toward them and made ready to whip a dagger, Jackie shook her head. “No. Please. Darach’s right. We mean no harm.”
The MacLomain Series: Later Years - a Scottish Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 98