“Aye, ‘tis our adventure,” Graham acknowledged, dumbfounded.
“How could she have possibly...” Christina whispered as she eyed a drawing of herself swinging a sword. The picture almost seemed to come alive it was depicted so well. As if the viewer could see how impressive Christina was in battle. How magnificent and magical.
“I didn’t even know she could draw,” Christina continued. “I always thought this was just a journal she wrote in.” Her eyes swept over everyone before she looked at Graham. “I might be going out on a limb here, but this almost seems like she foresaw all of our stories before they actually happened.” She frowned, baffled as something occurred to her. “That she might’ve somehow controlled it all.”
Though that would require a tremendous amount of power, Graham found himself agreeing with Christina’s assessment.
“Mayhap,” Blair said. “But know this. No one can control Broun, MacLomain connections. ‘Tis beyond the scope of a witch or wizard’s magic.”
Christina’s eyes met Blair’s. “What about a warlock’s?”
“Nay.” Rona shook her head. “And if it is then ‘tis because of the influence dark magic had over the creation of the rings and nothing more.”
“Right,” Christina murmured. “Warlocks that might very well be under Jessie’s control.”
When everyone seemed confused by that statement, Graham continued filling them in on all that had happened. Outside of what was obvious in Jessie’s book that is.
“So history is on track again.” Blair nodded as she handed Christina a glass of wine. “That’s good news!”
“Is it back on track though?” Graham glanced out the window. “That oak is verra much tied into MacLomain and Broun history. What can it mean that it’s dying?” He looked at his sister. “What do you make of it, Rona? Did you sense its death coming? What might be connected to it?”
“Nay,” she said softly as she clearly read his thoughts. As she caught what he had not shared yet. “But I sensed Fraser’s. He did die, Graham.” Her eyes were moist. “There cannae be any doubt.”
He knew how close she and Conall had been with Fraser. That this would prove especially difficult for her. So he filled both her and Blair in on everything they had learned from Kenna.
“Consider it a glimmer of hope, Sister,” he said gently. “Where before there was none.”
“But I sensed his death,” she reiterated.
“Where ye didnae sense the tree’s,” Graham pointed out. “Mayhap you are being as affected by everything happening as we are. Mayhap ‘tis disturbing your magic as well.”
“Fraser died years ago,” she countered.
“Just like Uncle Darach disappeared years ago,” he reminded. “Only to return recently as this curse unravels.”
“Is it a curse then, Brother?” she whispered, her eyes drifting to the fire. “But then I suppose it must be to test the lives of so many.”
“But at least it’s a curse that’s unravelling rather than only getting worse,” Christina said, renewed optimism and determination in her eyes as she set aside the book. “After all, three couples have already found true love, and as you mentioned, your Uncle Darach has returned unharmed.”
He liked that she focused on the positive and especially liked her comment about three couples finding true love.
“We should eat,” she promptly declared, standing. “Unless that is, someone can return us to medieval Scotland, so we can figure out what’s going on back there?”
Unfortunately, though none had any issues getting here, going home remained a different story. So they settled in, ate, drank and went over everything they knew about what was happening in case they missed anything.
“This is verra good, lass,” Graham complimented Christina, more than impressed with her cooking skills. As was everyone else.
“Thanks.” She offered him one of those charming smiles he loved so much. “But it can’t touch my southern cooking.”
“You’ll have to make me southern cooking then,” he replied.
“Not so sure if you’ve got the proper ingredients back home.” She shrugged and kept smiling. “But I’ll give it my best shot.”
“So ye’ll be returning home with us then?” Rona asked, pleased based on her expression.
Christina chuckled. “Well, I’ve gotta be there to keep kickin’ the bad guys’ asses, right?”
“Sorry about the cursing, Granny,” she murmured in her mind then winked at Graham because she knew he heard her.
“Who knew you were such a fighter? And so strong!” Jim grinned, impressed. “And here you were bitchin’ about carrying a few boxes when Milly moved in.”
She snorted. “Hey, I might be strong, but that doesn’t mean I like moving stuff.”
Graham didn’t miss the way Blair eyed Jim and Christina with what might just be jealousy. Though tempted to pull Christina onto his lap after they were done eating to dispel that jealousy, he wanted a few moments alone with his sister, Rona. So he joined her when she returned to the fire and Jessie’s little book.
“How fare ye, Sister?” he murmured. “We’ve had no time to speak since Conall and Lindsay’s adventure.”
“I’m better than I was,” she assured, grateful it seemed that he had joined her. “Just wary of my gift faltering.”
“Aye, that cannae be easy,” he agreed, eying her. “But mayhap in some ways not entirely unwelcome?”
Though it was hard to imagine his own magic faltering, hers had oftentimes been more of a burden than anything. Knowing when life and death were coming. Having that kind of intense foresight. Especially in their day and age when death came far more often than life.
Rather than comment on his statement, she rested her hand on his arm and met his eyes. “I’m so verra sorry about Kenna. She was a good friend to us all.” She swallowed. “’Twas kind of ye to be there for her after Fraser died.”
He could tell by the look in her eyes that she had known about him and Kenna for some time. “I’m sorry I didnae tell ye...or anyone for that matter.”
“There is no need to be sorry.” She shook her head. “And ‘twas not like I was around all that much for ye to confide in, aye?”
“I dinnae think any of us have been around all that much in general since Fraser died,” he said softly. “One way or another, we’ve all been running. Coping in our own way.”
“Aye,” she murmured. “But ‘tis time for that to end. To be there not just for our country but our kin.”
“Aye, Sister.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. “Hopefully, if we get this worked out, time will reset itself, and ye’ll soon have a nice reunion with Ma and Da.” He grinned. “Or at least ‘tis soon on the horizon.”
“Aye?” She smiled. “That is good to hear. I miss them.”
“And they miss ye,” he assured.
“’Tis odd that Blair hasnae commented on Fraser, aye?” he continued within her mind so their cousin would not hear. “’Tis as if she is pretending she didnae hear it.”
“Like all of us, she is a changed creature since he left,” she reminded. “She hears but refuses to believe. ‘Twould be too difficult to hope only to have those hopes dashed.” Her eyes met his. “What of ye, Brother? Do ye truly believe he might be alive somewhere out there?”
“I do,” he stated and meant it. “Mostly because Kenna seemed so sure of it...and Christina.”
“’Tis clear ye put a lot of faith in Christina.”
“Aye, all of it.”
A small smile ghosted her face. “She makes ye verra happy.”
“She does,” he agreed. “Despite all we’re going through.”
“’Tis good. I like her. More than that, I like the way she looks at ye and makes ye feel,” she said. “May I someday find the same sort of love.”
“Ye will,” he replied. “And he will be verra lucky indeed.”
“Aye, he will,” she agreed, grinning as she continued to l
eaf through Jessie’s book, commenting aloud absently. “Ye’ve all had interesting adventures thus far. ‘Tis hard to imagine what lies ahead for Bryce...”
When she trailed off, stunned, he grew alarmed. “What is it?”
Yet he already knew as she stopped on the last picture. One that had not been there before.
A map of what was now known as The United Kingdom.
“’Tis gone,” he whispered, pained. “Scotland is gone.”
“’Tis,” she whispered, just as heartbroken. “’Tis all England now.”
Chapter Nineteen
“IT’S JUST A drawing,” Christina assured, trying to sound confident.
“One in a book full of drawings that have actually come to pass,” Blair reminded, scowling.
“True.” Christina pointed at her shiner. “But it’s not one hundred percent accurate, or this would’ve been on my face in quite a few of those pictures.”
“Scotland still exists.” Jim pointed it out on his cell phone. “I just Googled it. Scotland is alive and well according to this.”
Everyone frowned at the phone as Christina snagged it from him. She nodded as she scrolled and pulled up recent images and articles to show them. “See. It’s still here so I wouldn’t trust that book. It could be another warlock playing games.” Her eyes went to Graham. “Remember, I did see two of them when I dreamt of Jessie.”
“Aye.” Graham’s troubled eyes met Rona’s. “Do ye sense anything? Any great loss?”
“Nay.” She shook her head, hopeful. “So mayhap ‘tis as Christina says.”
“It is.” Jim nodded and squeezed Blair’s shoulder. “Your country's intact. Promise.”
Blair clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes at him before she spat, “Ye shouldnae make promises ye dinnae know if ye can keep,” then headed upstairs.
“Damn woman always takes things the wrong way,” Jim muttered as he headed after her.
“I think we finally just saw Blair’s response to the news about Fraser,” Rona murmured to Graham.
Christina sighed, frustrated with Jessie. When had she drawn these pictures? Would this latest one come to pass? If so, what had she done to everyone? To her best friends? To an entire country of innocent people?
“We should get some rest,” Graham said softly, obviously sensing her building emotions though she was trying to remain calm. “There is nothing we can do until we’ve heard from Grant or Adlin.”
Rona nodded and embraced him goodnight before she surprised Christina and did the same to her. “Thank ye for the good food, lass. I look forward to tasting more once we are officially sisters.”
Before Christina had a chance to respond, Rona continued. “I will sleep down here and tend the fire if that’s all right with ye.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She eyed the flames. “Maybe it’s time to let it burn out. Maybe it’s somehow part of everything Jessie’s putting us through, and I’ve done nothing but help her along by keeping it going all this time.”
“’Twas the fire that started us on our journey,” Graham reminded. “So mayhap ‘tis not all that bad, lass.”
“I know,” she murmured, just not sure anymore.
“I think it should remain burning.” Rona offered Christina a soft smile. “If for no other reason than to keep me warm.”
Christina nodded, unable to dispute that logic. “Sure thing then. Thank you, sweetheart.”
When Milly had vanished, Christina had taken the room Lindsay had slept in the first night and given Jim Milly’s room. Better yet Jim and Blair because she knew Blair ended up there half the time. Or at least she hoped.
As she had been prone to do since staying here, Christina lit a few candles instead of turning on the lights when she and Graham entered. Maybe it was her way of feeling close to Granny again or perhaps foresight that she would ultimately end up someplace that had no electricity.
Her eyes were inevitably drawn to the tree outside. What was happening to it? Because whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. She didn’t realize she had drifted to the window until Graham came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled her back against him.
“’Tis not your fault or mine, lass,” he murmured. “And ‘tis likely not Jessie’s either.”
“I think we both know that’s not true,” she whispered and leaned her head back against his chest. “And I think it’s past time I stop giving her the benefit of the doubt.”
“Nay.” Graham turned her and cupped her cheeks, passionate. “That is the last thing you should do, lass.” He shook his head. “If we stop having faith in our own then all is lost.”
“But is she our own?” She searched his eyes. “Because it doesn’t feel like it lately.”
“Because you are hurt and confused and can only focus on your pain,” he said softly. “You need to focus instead on the fact that ‘tis verra likely she’s helping us now even if she wasnae before.”
“Here’s hoping.” She bit back emotion and swallowed hard. “But how am I, all of us for that matter, supposed to forgive her if she’s been behind everything all along? Darach’s disappearance? Kenna’s death? Maybe even Fraser’s?”
“You cannae look at it like that, lass, and well you know it.” He led her to the bed and sat her down. “’Tis time for you to stop dwelling on this. ‘Twill do no good.”
“But,” she started before he interrupted.
“Did you know this room once belonged to my great-grandma in the late eighteenth century?”
“It did?”
“Aye.” He nodded and grinned as he pulled her shirt off. “Her name was Coira O’Donnell before she became both a MacLomain and a great wizard.”
“Wizard?” She arched her brows, curious. “Not a witch?”
“Nay.” He started on her pants. “A wizard. Back during the days of Adlin’s prior life when there were light and dark wizards.”
“Ohhh, that sounds shady,” she teased. “So there were evil MacLomains running around?”
“Och, nay.” He chuckled. “The white wizards believed in the new God where the dark wizards believed in the old gods. Neither was evil just varied in their beliefs. Paganism and Christianity.”
“I see,” she murmured, eying him. “So if you lived back then would you have been a white wizard or a dark wizard?”
“Dark.” His eyes never wavered. “I am Pagan, Christina.”
“Oh, dear Lord,” she whispered. “I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Is this going to be a problem?”
She wasted no time putting his mind at ease when she saw the flash of worry in his eyes.
“No, we don’t have to share the same beliefs. That’s not a determining factor in my book.” She grinned. “Though Granny’s gotta be rollin’ in her grave.” She chuckled. “She always said I knew how to pick ‘em.”
A frown settled on his face. Maybe even a little sadness. “I like to think had I the honor of meeting her that she would have liked me.”
Oh, she could put her foot in her mouth, couldn’t she? Naturally, he would be worried based on everything she had shared with him. How religious her granny had been.
“I was just teasin’, sweetheart.” She cupped his cheeks, dropped a kiss on his lips and meant every last word. “Granny would have loved you to pieces and don’t you doubt it for a second.” She dropped another kiss, surprised when unexpected tears welled as she really thought about it. “In fact, I get the funniest feeling she was lookin’ down from Heaven and right there with us on our adventure.” She nodded, sure of it, before she dropped another kiss. “I think she supported me every step of the way which meant bringing you and me together.” Another kiss. “You're the sort of man she would’ve been proud to see me with.”
“Then I couldnae be more grateful,” he said softly, sensual heat gathering in his eyes under her onslaught of kisses.
“Me either,” she murmured as he began dropping kisses on her legs as he worked her pants down. �
��So grateful.”
“Aye,” he murmured. “We're verra lucky.”
“So lucky,” she managed to get out before his nibbling and kissing, and licking became too much, and she fell back on the bed.
When he rested her thighs on his broad shoulders, remnants of their conversation faded away altogether. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he brought her over the edge so fast it made her head spin.
Still, she refused to let him give all the pleasure this time.
“No,” she gasped when he started to undress. “Stop.”
Unsure, he slowed when she sat up and stopped him before he could pull his shirt off.
“Allow me, darlin’,” she murmured seductively as she managed to stand on wobbly legs and help him lift his shirt over his head. She made sure he saw just how much she appreciated his form as she looked him over, trailing her fingers down his neck, collarbone then his hard chest to the chiselled muscles of his abdomen.
“Well, I see what you mean,” she whispered, pleased as his tartan fell away with a few quick yanks and his rigid erection made a welcome appearance.
“Actually, it can go up or down,” he said hoarsely. “For easy accessibility.”
“I’ve rarely seen it down,” she commented as she sank onto the bed again.
“Not that,” he managed, chuckling.
“Then what?” she murmured, barely following his explanation and just as hoarse with desire before she began pleasuring him. After that, not much came out of him but groans and grunts and all the sorts of sounds that drove her crazy.
By the time she was finished, his legs were likely as wobbly as hers had been because they fell back on the bed together, laughing yet again. The next thing she knew he was over her and kissing her with the sort of passion most girls would die for.
“I dinnae want ye to come back to Scotland just to fight the enemy,” he murmured against her ear as he knelt back and had her straddle him. “I want ye to come back to be with me always.”
She offered no response other than a ragged breath as she wrapped her arms around his neck and sank onto him. Their eyes held as he released a similar choppy breath of pleasure and wrapped his arms around her.
Promised to a Highland Laird Page 25