Kenna possessed no magic but had always displayed a remarkable sixth sense.
“Aye then?” he said.
She nodded and murmured, “There’s nothing but trouble ahead if those two find love.”
Graham clenched his jaw and frowned as he tore his eyes from Christina and focused on the fire. Again, he felt incredibly conflicted.
His eyes went to Kenna’s when she rested her hand on his arm.
“Yer making this more difficult than it needs to be,” she whispered. “Because ye should only ever follow yer heart.”
“My heart’s torn,” he said softly.
“Aye, betwixt yer obligations to me and yer desire for Christina.” She shook her head, her eyes pained. “Just trust yer heart to lead ye in the right direction, and my guess is there willnae be a divide in the least. That all will work out as it should.”
“Ye have more faith than most,” he murmured. “When life hasnae been all that kind to ye.”
“Kind enough since ye and yer kin came into it,” she reminded, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “Kind enough that I did find love in the end, no matter how short lived.”
He nodded, squeezed her hand and was about to say more when Bryce’s words floated through his mind. “We’re close, Cousin, but we’ve run into trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“The kind that happens when men the size of Sven and I cross paths with what have to be Robert the Bruce’s smallest soldiers.”
Moments later, a man raced through the encampment and cried out, “Trouble afoot! Danger!” He shook his head. “But at least we’ve already downed one!”
Chapter Nine
“THEY’VE BEEN GONE too long, haven’t they?” Christina muttered as she pulled back the tent flap and peeked out. “And who do you think they downed? Sven or Bryce?” She shook her head. “It’s hard to imagine either of them.”
“Staring out there isn’t going to make them return any faster,” Lindsay said. “Sit and drink some whisky with us. They’ll be just fine.”
Graham, Conall, and Grant had gone off with Robert and several of his men to see what all the commotion was about. That seemed like ages ago. Meanwhile, she and the girls were tucked away in Robert’s tent with several men guarding the entrance, including his brother, Edward who tossed her a lustful look before she closed the flap.
“How do you know they’re fine for sure?” Christina asked as she joined Lindsay and Kenna by the fire.
“I just know,” Lindsay assured. “Once you finally see them fight you’ll understand. It’s breathtaking.”
Christina chuckled and perked her brows. “Breathtaking?”
“Definitely. You’ll see.”
“That fighting is breathtaking?” She shook her head. “I highly doubt that.”
“Aye, ‘tis most impressive,” Kenna agreed. “Graham and his kin are verra talented.”
Christina couldn’t help but wonder if there was a double innuendo there but when her eyes went to Kenna, she dispelled the notion. The Scotswoman was both sweet and strong to a fault. Not the sneaky sort who secretly had designs on Graham and was trying to swindle him into marriage by claiming her clan’s well-being was on the line. Because the thought had crossed Christina’s mind when she watched them together earlier. She didn’t mean for it to, but it had.
They made a cute couple. A very attractive one actually. As a matter of fact, they looked so good together it was enough to draw her eyes from Robert on occasion. Enough to cause an annoying itch of jealousy to flare and never let go. If she knew what was good for her, she would support the whole thing and be happy for Graham. Instead, she found herself imagining inappropriate things.
First, that Fraser appeared out of nowhere on a white horse, arisen from the dead as he swept Kenna into his arm’s, leaving a crestfallen Graham in his wake. One who quickly turned secretly thankful eyes Christina’s way. Then in another scenario, she envisioned Graham lurching to his feet, closing the distance between them before growling, “I cannae be without ye anymore, Christina. I refuse to!” Then he would yank her close and kiss her hard.
“Did you hear me, darling?”
Or maybe it would happen all at once. Kenna and Graham would be gazing at each other one second then see the truth clear as day. They would shake their heads and stand at the same time, declaring simultaneously, “This is all wrong! What were we thinking? We’re not meant to be together.”
“Christina,” Lindsay cut into her thoughts. “Did you hear me?”
“What?” She blinked several times and looked at Lindsay. “Can’t say I did, sweetheart. Mind repeating?”
Lindsay’s eyebrows perked. “I was just wondering if you were going to acknowledge that Kenna just refreshed your drink.”
“Oh.” She looked from her full mug to Kenna and plastered on the warmest smile she could manage. One she suspected didn’t quite reach her eyes seeing how this woman would be sharing Graham’s bed the rest of her damned life. “Well, bless your heart, darlin’. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Kenna eyed Christina, her words soft. “I know well of the connections betwixt MacLomains and Brouns. The fated love that exists.”
Lindsay tossed Christina a look as Kenna continued. “’Twas something Fraser vowed would not happen to him. He had seen it.”
Lindsay narrowed her eyes. “Fraser had seen it?”
“Aye.” She nodded. “He had the gift of foresight and knew ‘twas not part of his fate. Nay.” She shook her head. “He was fated for something else entirely.”
“Death,” Christina whispered.
“Nay, actually.” Wisdom lit Kenna’s eyes. “Not when he was so young anyway.”
“I’m sorry his gift didn’t help save him then,” Lindsay said softly, respect in her voice.
“So we all think,” Kenna whispered. “But ‘tis hard to know.”
Christina and Lindsay frowned.
“But we do know,” Lindsay said more bluntly than she likely intended. “He died.”
“Did he then?” Kenna’s eyes leveled with hers. “How can ye be so sure?”
“Because I’ve been inside Conall’s mind and I saw his last moments,” Lindsay said gently as she took Kenna’s hand. “He’s gone, sweetness. He really is.” She shook her head. “And I’m so very sorry.”
“Sometimes things arenae as they seem,” Kenna replied, not defiant in the least but rather matter-of-fact. “Sometimes there is more going on than meets the eye.”
Christina took a deep swig of ale. She couldn’t help but wonder why they were having this conversation right now. Why Kenna would not have talked to Graham or any of his family about it first.
“Have you mentioned your thoughts to any of the MacLomains?” Lindsay’s lips turned down in concern. “Adlin? Grant? Moreover, Fraser’s parents, Cassie and Logan?”
“Nay, nor will I ever,” Kenna said softly. “’Tis not my place. They have been through enough, and I willnae dredge up something they are only just healing from.”
“Fair enough.” Lindsay kept frowning. “But what if he’s trapped where Conall’s father Darach was? In another dimension created by a warlock?” She shook her head. “If that’s the case, we might be able to save him.”
“’Tis not like that.” Kenna’s eyes were haunted. “Where he lives, how he lives, may verra well be beyond the scope of saving.”
Well, what the hell did she mean by that? Christina was about to ask when a harsh chill swept over her.
Something was wrong.
She barely had time to process what was happening when a dagger whipped in from the backside of the tent and pinned Lindsay’s hand to the table. Before she had a chance to turn her head and enchant, three men rushed in. One put a burlap bag over Lindsay’s head and muffled her screams not only with a hand over her mouth but with a dagger to her neck as his eyes met Christina’s and he shook his head.
She knew what that meant.
Make a sound and Lindsay died
.
Though more than tempted to use her magic, nothing said she could take these men down before that blade sliced Lindsay’s neck. And that was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. Terribly shaken but not about to show it, she stood and prayed her legs kept working as she met Kenna’s eyes and nodded. Thankfully, the Scotswoman kept her mouth shut and stood as well. Moments later, she and Kenna were tossed over the men’s shoulders and taken.
Though frightened, all she could think about was Lindsay because she was fairly certain her friend had been left behind. If so, had she been killed? She bit back tears as she realized the truth. Why would they let her live when they clearly knew what kind of threat she was? Or so said the fact they covered her eyes and hair, two features very much intertwined with her ability to enchant.
Knowing better than to make a sound, she fell back on what she had been told about the MacLomain, Broun connections. That if she had a true love, they should be able to hear her telepathically. So she took no chances and screamed into her mind, “Graham, Bryce, help! Lindsay’s in trouble! Someone’s trying to kill her!”
She said those words over and over, praying one of them would hear.
What she never expected was a response. “We’re heading back now, lass. What’s happening?”
Bryce?
He might sound different within her mind, but there was no mistaking him.
“We’re...they’ve...” she stuttered in her head, so thrown off he wasn’t Graham she could barely make sense of what he was saying.
“Try to remain calm and think clearly no matter how difficult,” Bryce responded. “Once you’ve gathered yourself share everything with me, aye? Are you safe? Where are you?”
He was right. She needed to remain focused and calm the hell down. So what if Graham didn’t respond. That should be the least of her concerns right now. With that firmly in mind, she managed to tell him what happened.
Afterward, there was silence until he finally said, “I need you to try to think and communicate more clearly, lass. All you said was the same word over and over again.”
She had? “What word?”
“Earrach.”
“What does that mean?”
“Spring.”
She frowned and flinched against the pain of being jostled on someone’s shoulder. “Sorry, I might know the word spring but not that other word. So I definitely didn’t say it.” Lord above, she wanted to beat the crap out of the man carrying her. “Why do you suppose I would say that?”
“I dinnae know.” She heard the frown in his internal voice. “But ‘tis uncanny considering today is the last day of spring.”
That was a little strange, wasn’t it?
Apparently, Milly and Lindsay had also said seasonal words in Gaelic. Milly, autumn and Lindsay, winter. So it appeared they were going in order. The reason for the words still remained a mystery. If nothing else, they seemed to align with the time of year each one experienced their adventures. The general consensus was that it was a good thing to hear or say the word. It meant they were on the right path.
This didn’t quite feel like the right path though.
But then what did she know about destiny and fate?
“Have you gotten back to Linds yet?” she asked. Worry, above all, likely clouded her thinking and that’s why he wasn’t getting her message. “Is she okay?”
“Lindsay will be all right,” he responded. “But you must continue on as if you dinnae know that, lass. Do you ken?”
“Yes,” she replied, understanding full well the less her captors knew, the better.
“Keep reporting back to me, Christina, and stay strong,” Bryce continued. “We will come for you. Dinnae doubt it for a moment.”
She grunted in pain as a creaky door opened and the man started up stairs. The air was musty and cold, all of which she shared with Bryce. “It sounds like he’s walking on stone. We’re definitely in a building of some sort.”
“You’re coming across clearly now,” he responded. “Just keep talking to me, aye, lass?”
“You got it.” He might not be Graham but he was a soothing presence, and she was grateful he was there. “How is everyone else doing, Bryce? Sven and yourself? We were told one of you were hurt.” And because she couldn’t help herself. “And how’s Graham?”
“All’s well enough,” he replied. “Nobody was hurt. ‘Twas a decoy so that you lasses would be more readily accessible.”
“Oh damn.” That made sense.
“As to Graham...” There was a hesitation. “He isnae verra happy.”
“I imagine not considering Kenna was taken,” she remarked. “And Lindsay was nearly killed.”
Bryce didn’t respond to that, but she sensed he wanted to. That there was more to it. “What is it, Bryce?”
“’Tis nothing. You need to keep focused on your surroundings,” he continued before she cut him off.
“Just tell me, Bryce.”
“’Tis you he frets over, lass,” he murmured. Silence stretched before he continued, his brogue evident with his emotions. “And whilst the two of ye claim to be together, ‘tis now clear yer meant for me. It cannae be any other way because ‘tis me who heard yer call and ‘tis me speaking within yer mind.”
Christina wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so she said nothing. She barely knew Bryce. But then she barely knew Graham. Yet her mind fought the idea of her being meant for anyone besides Graham...or maybe even Robert.
A mind that wasn’t supposed to want a man, to begin with.
She cursed under her breath when she was plunked down on a hard stone floor. Then she heard a door slam shut and a key latch lock. She blinked, trying to adjust to the pitch black room but it was slow going.
“Kenna?” she whispered. “Are you here, honey?”
“Aye,” came a soft voice.
Relief washed over her. They were both alive, and she reported as much to Bryce.
“Is there a window?” he asked. “Mayhap you can look out and get a better lay of the land?”
“Maybe but it’s hellishly dark.”
When she heard scuffling, she frowned. “Kenna, is that you?”
“Aye,” she replied, apparently on the same wavelength as Bryce. “I think I see a window. I’m going to look.”
Christina nodded and felt her way along the cold, rough wall.
“I can see out the window,” Kenna said softly. “We’re up high...a castle I think.”
When Christina said as much to Bryce, he replied. “It can only be Stirling Castle.”
Stirling Castle? She had heard about this castle. “Really?”
“Aye,” he said. “’Tis currently occupied by the Sassenach but under siege by the Scots. That means there’s a way in and we’ll find it.” He paused. “It sounds like they put you in a tower. Get as many details as you can from Kenna.”
So she did, and it was pretty much confirmed.
They were imprisoned in one of the most famous castles in Scotland.
She had just found her way to a corner and was closer to Kenna based on the sound of her voice when a harsh chill raced over her skin. Moments later, it felt like she was sitting in a walk-in freezer. She was suddenly so frightened that breathing became nearly impossible. “Bryce, I think something’s wrong.”
No response.
“Kenna?” she whispered, straining to see in the darkness.
Unlike Lindsay, she wasn’t a big fan of the dark. Mainly because it meant the power had been shut off when she was a kid. There was no money to pay the bills again. Not Granny’s fault, not really, just a kind heart unable to say no. A kind heart who had a habit of not putting the scant few dollars they had in the right place.
The electric company.
So Christina would light a candle and read a good book, often to Granny to help ease her guilt. And often the Bible because it was one of the few books they had. Back when books were paper not digital. Good thing, because Lord knows they would never have been able
to afford an e-reader.
“What is that?” Kenna’s voice was a hoarse squeak in an echoing chamber. “Do ye feel that, lass? The unnatural cold?”
“Yeah.” She scrambled toward Kenna’s voice until she finally bumped into her. “Sweet Jesus, there you are.”
“Aye.” Kenna’s hand slipped into hers, and she whispered, “I dinnae think we are alone, Christina.”
That’s when she sensed it. Something dark, foreboding, and towering. Rather than squint into the darkness, she tucked Kenna behind her, closed her eyes and focused. To hell with not using magic. If something was coming for them, she intended to fight it for all she was worth.
At first, there was nothing, then most certainly something. It was tall, slender and clothed from head to toe in black. It stood mere feet away, its soulless eyes watching her closely, its curiosity in her gift obvious.
She remained perfectly still, anticipating the worst.
What was it going to do? How painful was this going to be? Though she should be terrified, she felt rather detached. Ready. More than that? Angry as all get out. This thing was going to hurt Kenna over her dead body.
“Who are you?” she ground out, shifting so that Kenna was better protected. While she should probably stop talking she was far too confrontational for that. “Stop being a coward and give it to me straight.”
“Good, yer remaining strong, Christina,” it said, his voice raspy and grating. “I had so hoped ye would.” He flashed a creepy grin. “The wee witch so hoped ye would.”
“What wee witch?” she asked.
“Ye will know soon enough,” he responded, his voice like sandpaper on metal.
She opened her mouth to respond, but he was gone. Snuffed out. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, he had vanished and his harsh chill with him.
“’Twas true evil, aye?” Kenna whispered, trembling behind Christina as the moment stretched on.
Was it gone for good? Would it come back?
“Hell yeah that was evil,” Christina agreed when she finally found her voice. “Up one side and down the other.” As her body caught up with delayed terror, her legs turned to jelly, and she sank down the wall until she was sitting. She tugged at Kenna with a shaky hand. “Join me, sugar.” Then her voice grew as shaky as her hands. “I sure could use the company. Conversation. Anything to get my mind off of...that.”
Promised to a Highland Laird Page 11