by Jeanne Rose
Caitlin told herself to stop imagining things. The standing stones were the reason she was there, and soon it would be too chill and too dark to accomplish anything.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it might have been like to be part of this corner of the world three thousand years before. The Bronze Age. No modern conveniences. Only the earth and its riches on which to rely. The wind swept eerily through the circle of rugged stones set on end by a primitive people who had used them for religious or astronomical or agricultural purposes.
The gods worshipped by Bronze Age people had eventually come to be called the elder race . . . or fairy-folk, if one wanted to be even more whimsical.
Fairy folk . . . fairy fire. . . fairy wine.
Caitlin shivered.
The Scottish mist was laving her upturned face. She opened her eyes. The weather was turning and she hadn’t yet gotten one sketch. Determined to accomplish something before she was forced to leave, she opened her notebook and drew closer to one of the stones, irregular in width, craggy at the top. While several of the others were decorated with the simpler and more common cup-and-ring markings of The Bronze Age, this one was covered with a more intricate design – lozenges, chevrons and triangles had been incised or pecked in a number of combinations over most of the surface turned toward the ring’s center.
Sketching quickly, Caitlin was busily filling the page when her sense of unease returned twofold. The back of her neck prickled. Her pencil hovered over the paper. Her heart thumped strongly in her chest. Neither noise nor movement betrayed another presence, yet she was certain she wasn’t alone, as if her sixth sense had been finely honed somehow . . .
No fool she, Caitlin closed her notebook with the casual air of someone who had finished her business. She backed off, looked around, her manner innocuous but her gaze intent. Nothing. Yet the instinctual warning didn’t fade. She’d had no such warning the night Neil had been waiting for her outside of her apartment building. Still keeping her composure, she stuffed her notebook into her shoulder bag – she wasn’t about to lose another one – and headed for the path to her car.
It was only when her sneakered foot touched gravel that she more than sensed another presence. The sounds of rustling clothing and furtive footfalls seemed magnified to her ears. And from the corner of her eye, she caught a dark blur to her left traversing the narrow opening between two of the standing stones. Dark, but not familiar. A man, but not Bain, she told herself. Someone who’d been sneaking around and spying on her.
Her stride lengthened and she had keys in hand even before she got to the car. She was locked inside in seconds, driving away from the ancient site in less than a minute. Her arms were tense, her fingers stiff around the wheel. Her eyes kept darting to the rear-view mirror as the sky turned a threatening charcoal gray.
The mist thickened, casting droplets of water against her windshield. Taking a broad curve a tad too fast, Caitlin slowed and turned on the headlights. The wipers. The radio. Maybe some music would help her relax.
She took a deep breath and settled back into the seat, hummed to the classical piece she recognized if couldn’t name. Her heartbeat steadied, her stomach settled. She’d just about convinced herself she’d been imagining things when another set of headlights swung behind hers as they, too, rounded the curve. But from where? She hadn’t passed any buildings. Or any crossroads. The other car must have come from behind some outcropping along the road near the standing stones.
Caitlin’s pulse accelerated and her foot grew heavy, making the small car do the same. The headlights behind her fell back and she knew a moment’s relief. Seconds later, the other car regained the lost distance.
Her instincts had been correct all along.
They warned her now: that the person following meant her no good.
She sped along the winding, narrow road too fast for even a clear day. And this was Scotland at its most threatening. Dark and dangerous. Like Bain.
For an instant, she wondered if the man following her could be the mysterious Laird himself, giving her yet another scare. But no, this was too stealthy an approach for the likes of him. He leaned toward the theatrical. No doubt he would prefer to ride his hellish steed down on her, claymore drawn and raised in threat.
And somehow, if it were Bain, she was certain she would know.
Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning split the sky, for a moment illuminating the road before her. Caitlin’s stomach dropped as the car nosed down through the curtain of rain and fog. She was starting the treacherous drive along the sea loch, a section of the road too narrow for two cars to pass each other. She’d been told that cars traveling south backed up to the occasional gravel-covered shoulder to let a northbound vehicle go by. Pray God there was no oncoming traffic this eve.
She checked the rear-view mirror. The headlights were closing in on her, sliding to her left. Was the crazed person really going to try to go around her? Impossible. She would be pushed off the road. And the drop to her right was so steep that the mere thought of it kick-started her heart.
She had no choice.
As dangerous as it was, she threw caution to the wind, pressed the accelerator and prayed she would keep to the curves and not drive straight into the sea.
Some higher power had to be with her, for as distracted as she was by the danger of the elements added to the person behind her, Caitlin kept her little rental car on all four wheels and seemed to know where each hairpin curve lay before reaching it. She safely made it around nearly a dozen before the road straightened and widened once more. The fog and rain were so heavy she couldn’t see the drop, but she remembered the road veered away from the sea, the shoulder flattening to gravel and grass.
Safe, thank God. Her eyes flashed to the rear-view mirror.
The other car made it through, as well.
Caitlin didn’t slow for a second. Her mind whirled. What now? How to ditch the maniac? What if he were the crazed convict someone had told Julian about and what if he followed her to the MacDonalds’ place?
She would just have to out drive him, disappear into the mists so he couldn’t find her.
Instinctively she drove straight for the crossroads, her accelerator flattened to the car’s floor. Within seconds, it seemed, she lost the lights behind her. If only she could keep up the pace. Her eyes flicked to the rear view mirror again and again. No other car. But she wouldn’t relax, wouldn’t believe that he wasn’t there. He was ready to pounce, somewhere behind her . . .
Approaching the crossroads, she experienced her first breath of relief and only then slowed. She had to in case someone was coming from another direction.
Then lightning lit the sky, revealing the crumbling old tower that stood sentry above. The air crackled and boomed and another streak of white heat found its target in an ancient tree standing next to the road. A loud crack and a major limb separated from the trunk and descended before her as she practically stood on the brake to avoid a collision. She fought to keep her car in control as it swerved and twisted and bucked. And below her, the earth seemed to shake as the giant tree limb hit the pavement.
Caitlin’s car came to a stop mere feet from the leafy branches.
Even so, her pulse didn’t steady, she didn’t feel any overwhelming relief, for she couldn’t pass the obstruction. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she spotted a flash of lights through the curtain of rain. Instinctively, she abandoned the car, its engine still running, and climbed the promontory blindly, not for a moment questioning her direction.
Within seconds she was drenched, her shoes sodden, feet squishing and slipping inside them, yet she plunged on, not bothering to look back. She didn’t need to. She could feel her pursuer lurking somewhere behind her. All her senses seemed magnified.
So did her fear.
“Bain Morghue, I need your help.”
The words were out of her mouth before she’d even thought them. Ridiculous. Crazy. Even if he were still in the area, he cou
ldn’t hear her. And he would more likely threaten her again rather than rescue her.
She could depend on no one but herself.
She could do it. Escape. The dark was her friend rather than enemy. Remember that. She was breathing hard, straining from the climb and the fear that seemed to have become an integral part of her life the past few days. But she was almost over the top. She gave herself a mental push, knew she could lose herself in the castle ruins.
Head down against the wind and rain, she forced herself forward until she thumped into something hard and unyielding that stopped her in her tracks. A human blockade. Familiar.
Bain.
She didn’t have to see him. She knew.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and swept her in a half circle. Lightning flashed, revealing his intent face as he mumbled something unintelligible – another language. Gaelic? More lightning split the sky around them, so bright and blue-white, Caitlin was blinded and hid her face.
She didn’t look up when Bain dragged her forward, taking her a few yards away into a space protected against the elements. Should she be relieved? Or afraid? Honest with herself, Caitlin knew she was both.
As he continued on through the dark in what seemed to be an underground tunnel, she whispered, “How can you see where you’re going without a flashlight?”
“No need for subterfuge,” he told her in a normal tone. “You can speak freely. You are safe with me.”
As usual, he hadn’t given her a direct answer, but this time Caitlin didn’t care. Bain knew where he was going, and for the moment, that was good enough for her. Still frightened, she leaned into him until she realized that he was as dry and warm as she was cold and wet. Of course. He’d tucked her under the edge of his cape, which had protected him from the rain. Not wanting to get him as soaked as she was, Caitlin attempted to pull away, but Bain kept her fixed to his side.
“Now is not the time to be prickly.”
And despite herself, she started to laugh, the reaction to her mind-numbing fear. He stiffened but kept going. She was still laughing when he stopped and put his hand out. Something clicked and a door creaked open, revealing a large room lit by flickering light.
Bain let go and Caitlin entered, levity forgotten, eyes widening in awe. At first she’d thought it the same room as before but then recognized what surely must be the great hall of the castle. With a ceiling supported by wooden trusses arched on the bottom and peaked at the top, the room had to be at least thirty feet by seventy, almost as much space as a house. Rather than being cold and damp as one would expect from a stone room on a night like this, a comforting warmth reached out to her from a wall-sized fireplace big enough for a full-grown person to walk around in.
She automatically moved toward that end, the only area of the room in use. A long, heavy-planked table on one side was covered with candelabra. Rich tapestries, larger and more intricately woven than any she’d seen before, hung from the wall around the fireplace, while a thick woven rug and pillows lay on the floor before it. A mahogany leather couch facing the flames added a modern touch. She rubbed her arms and unsuccessfully tried to keep her teeth from clacking.
“Remove your clothing before you catch your death.”
In reaction, Caitlin whipped around, but before she could protest, Bain held out a robe of dark red velvet that he’d produced from somewhere. She took it from him and shivered when their fingers touched.
His eyes were in shadow, but she could feel them touching her, too.
She didn’t like the sensation – she bloomed inside like a flower to a hothouse – and yet she felt no trust for this man who lived in shadows, who couldn’t even answer the simplest question in a straightforward manner.
“Turn around.” She scanned the candlelit room to make certain Ghillie was nowhere in sight.
“You are already in my power, Caitlin,” he murmured, his lips turning up in amusement. “You called for me, did you not? You needn’t hide from me.”
Fear stalked her once more. Fear that he might be right. Fear that he had indeed given her some ‘fairy wine’ that bound her to him whether she would or no.
Then he did as she ordered and gave her his back.
Pulling off her soaked jacket, Caitlin quickly replaced her sodden sweater and pants with the robe, wondering what fate had in store for her. Bain hadn’t been far from her thoughts since they’d met. Perhaps he felt the strong and strange connection, too. Whereas before she was consumed by fear of physical danger, now some equally dark, disturbing emotion swept through her – fear of her own attraction to him.
“Oh, that feels better,” she said, fastening the robe around her damp skin. She kept her tone light. “You can turn around now.”
“As I could have any time I pleased.” Bain’s gaze swept from her to the wet clothing she was holding. He took the dripping garments from her. “They will dry quickly near the fire. As will you.” He indicated the pile of pillows.
Caitlin took the couch instead. There she removed her shoes and socks and rubbed her feet dry with the hem of the robe while he hung her clothing on pegs next to the fire, then did the same with his cape. Tonight he wore a full-sleeved midnight-blue velvet shirt with his black pants and boots. The rich garment made him even more handsome, if that were possible. When he turned back to her and saw her safely curled up on the couch, he lifted a brow, but he said nothing, merely swept up her sneakers and socks and placed them on the hearth.
“Now, tell me why you called me,” he demanded, settling on the pillows near her.
She felt like demanding to know how he had heard over the noise of the storm, but she deemed the question useless. He wouldn’t answer.
“Some man followed me all the way from the standing stones near Lochfynton. I think he wanted to force my car off into the sea.”
He didn’t react as she expected. His expression remained passive, slightly pensive, sending a chill up her spine. Could he have known? But how?
“That does not explain why you sought my aid.”
“I don’t know.” Caitlin shifted her position, drawing her knees to her chest protectively and wrapping her arms around them. She stared into his eyes, tonight as dark a blue as the midnight velvet. As much as she might prefer to lie, she couldn’t quite manage it. “I hoped you would help me, I guess.” Her exposed feet grew chilled and she tried arranging the robe to hang over them.
“Let me.”
Before she knew what he was about, Bain took hold of her ankles and pulled her feet to his chest. As he warmed them for her, his hands were gentle yet provocative. “We are drawn together by a bond,” he said. “A darkness that would frighten most people.”
He was frightening her right now. Her skin pulsed with an instant eroticism that took her breath away. The tingling sensation spread. Making her thighs quake. And her breasts tighten. She really should stop him immediately. Only she couldn’t.
“I don’t believe we are bound,” she gasped.
“You deny your own experience, the darkness of the mind you told me you fought?”
Her experience with Neil intruded for a moment. “There are different kinds of darkness. Even I am afraid sometimes,” she admitted.
His hands stilled and cupped her toes, which now glowed with heat. “But you entered it and brought back one you loved. Tell me about this person.”
She might not be willing to discuss Neil, but Ty was a different story. “Ty – my brother – was only seven when it happened. One of his friends was murdered in the school playground, shot by another child playing with his father’s gun. Ty was standing next to his friend. Was splattered with his blood. The trauma was too much for him. Ty withdrew. Holed up inside himself. He rarely spoke. Stopped relating to other kids. Except me sometimes. I was twelve, too young to accept losing him forever.”
“A difficult time for you both.”
Caitlin remembered how she had wept over the loss her parents had tried to make her accept after months had passed and
professional counseling had failed. “I refused to give him up to the darkness. I truly believed that if he had someone to cling to, someone to come back to, eventually he would. I read him stories and told him tales about spells being broken and obstacles overcome by magic. I spent every free moment I had with him, praying, hoping, believing that magic could break the spell that had stolen Ty from our family.”
“And you succeeded.”
“Eventually. Though Ty has never forgotten what happened. It still affects him. He’s quiet and keeps to himself a lot, but he’s not lost like he once was. “In my heart, I can’t help believing magic brought him back to us.”
“There is wondrous magic to be found in this world if you believe. Not many would have been so brave. ’Twas you who were the magic to your brother,” he said softly.
Hands on her ankles once more, Bain tugged and Caitlin slid off the couch and onto his lap. Her heart pounded more wildly than it had during the drive over the sea loch road. Surely he could hear its beat. His hand smoothed her still-damp hair from her face. He cupped her cheek. Drank from her eyes. Her gaze was locked with his. She looked deep, deep, past the midnight blue to their dark centers. She read desire and something more. Something dark and inexplicable.
He masked her view into his soul by crushing his mouth over hers. Their tongues danced to a rhythm older than time. Her arms wound around his neck as though they belonged there. A faint voice asked what she thought she was doing, giving over to a stranger, a mysterious midnight rider whom no one knew. He could do anything to her. Anything. And who would be the wiser? And why didn’t she care?
All she cared for was the taste of his mouth, the feel of his flesh against her fingers, the beat of his heart as it sang with hers. When his hand slipped down from her cheek to her neck and then to the opening of her robe, she adjusted her body to give him leave to stroke her tender flesh. To find her lace-encased breast, her aching nipple. His fingers left a trail of fire where they touched her sensitive skin.