Born of Mist and Legend (Highland Legends Book 3)

by Kat Bastion

  “Worth it.” He gave her a brief squeeze, then kissed the top of her head.

  She rested a hand over his chest as she watched them eat. “What are we to do with them?”

  Skorpius glanced back at the wee ones. “They can’t come with us.”

  Brigid’s heart ached so heavily for them, she found it hard to draw breath. And yet she forced the air in, then let out a heavy sigh.

  “They’ve no ma, no da.” They’d have a hard time in life. She knew that hardship well.

  “They’ll survive. Perhaps be stronger for it.” He glanced down at her, then kissed her softly. “You are.”

  Mayhap she’d become the warrior she was because of it.

  The pull of her quest tugged at her, a vivid reminder. “But aye, they canna journey with us.”

  “They’d continue to be at great risk.”

  As Connell and Gunna feasted, she and Skorpius stood in silence, conteplatin’ the matter.

  Only one idea surfaced. “You’re duty-bound to obey my command.”

  “To a degree. Yet I’d carry out your request, duty or not.”

  “Then take them somewhere safe.” Brigid couldn’t give them a new ma and da. But she could give them the closest thing, what she’d had. “They need a clan of their own.” Scots were Scots. The wee ones were kin to them all.

  “I’m to deliver them?” Skorpius asked.

  “I canna leave; the callin’ to my task is urgent. But the danger for them grows.”

  “You need to follow the clues of your vision.”

  “Aye. On with the hunt.”

  Skorpius stared at her, displeasure clear in his expression. “I won’t leave you for long.”

  “Mayhap the castle we’d passed.” With the music and dancin’. With the celebration of the new bairn.

  Skorpius let out a long sigh, but said naught.

  Within minutes, the children had devoured all they could.

  Wee Gunna plucked her golden leaf up from the plaid, then dropped it into her dress pocket. She then picked up a snickerdoodle with two hands and tucked the cookie into her pocket as well. Connell offered Gunna his cookie, which was promptly deposited with the first.

  “Are you well enough to travel?” Brigid asked, washin’ the two children in magick again to clean their food-covered faces and hands.

  “Aye.” Connell stood and tugged his sister up beside him.

  “Very well.” Skorpius gave Brigid a chaste kiss, then pinned her with a stern look filled with all manner of unspoken warnin’.

  She gave him a nod of understandin’. I’ll take great care.

  Then Skorpius stepped toward the wee ones. “Now it’s my turn for some magick. Gunna, hold Connor’s hand tight and don’t let go. We’re about to fly like angels do.”

  At once, Brigid felt a sense of dread at their imminent departure. “Skorpius!” she called out, hand shot to her breast—over their hearts’ bond.

  Skorpius stared at her with fierce intensity. Then he placed a hand on Connell’s shoulder. And the three of them vanished from sight.

  Brigid gasped in sudden panic.

  For the strong bond she felt to Skorpius?

  Vanished with him.

  Brigid forced a calmin’ breath into her lungs.

  “’Tis but a moment’s work,” she murmured to herself.

  Skorpius promised he wouldn’t leave for long.

  And the inner draw to continue on with her journey intensified. Therefore, she calmed her emotions, emptied her thoughts, and followed where the energy led.

  The unusual draw presented as a hot vibration. Nigh an itchin’-ache of sorts. Made her anxious to relieve the sensation. And she’d learned that when she faced the direction true to her course, the uncomfortable tension it caused began to ease. Akin to bein’ led by an invisible thread.

  After a short walk along a footpath, she emerged from the thicker wood and encountered a road. An open glade stretched beyond it with only a handful of snow patches that still clung to the shade of large rocks. But over the sundrenched road, soot and dust covered the surface.

  With Skorpius’s warnin’ glare firm in her mind, she burst up a shield of protective magick many layers thick, outside of her body. Then she walked along the road, followin’ the draw.

  Till the hot vibration intensified.

  Uncertain what the change meant, she paused at that spot.

  Naught but windin’ road stretched ahead and behind. Forest sprawled to the east. Glade, forest, then mountains spanned to the west.

  A clear blue sky gleamed overhead.

  When she broadened her awareness, thousands of heartbeats vibrated back, from birds, small creatures, and insects. She filtered out all of those, searchin’ for a distinct human heartbeat. But she found none.

  Skorpius’s words echoed into her mind: Follow the clues of your vision.

  A clue. Some sign of where to go next.

  But the energy-path ended right there.

  She stared down at the sooted dusty road. The vision’s scorched message.

  With a subtle brush of magick that burst as a gustin’ wind upon the ground, she lifted the day’s worth of buildup, which swept away on the breeze. And there beneath, lay the dire warnin’ from her vision still scorched onto the earth: Become mine. Or the child serves in your stead.

  Hot fury rose within her. But she knew the emotion did her no good, hindered even.

  So she centered herself within, found the calm depths of her magick loch.

  From that quiet place, she checked that her outer shield still held, kept her obscured from view in the physical realm.

  Then she energized the powerful magick within her loch, swirled it forth, examined the message for the any “clues” through the energy of her magick. And the substance of the scorched earth vibrated back to her. A unique energy essence. Other than from Earth-realm. Different than her magick.

  Flashin’ out from that point in all directions, the conclusion became clear: He’d stolen Robert away…somewhere verra far away.

  The moment she came to that revelation, the message began to vanish, sinkin’ down under the soil till it became indistinguishable. The earth lost all sign of foreign energy, had become ordinary ground again.

  Yet one other clue that had been lifted from the message remained with her.

  The oily dark scent of the one she hunted: Merlin.

  Chapter 36

  Skorpius transported the children to the only place they’d be safe. From any threat.

  The realm of angels.

  Not exactly the clan Brigid had had in mind.

  But the dangerous situation warranted the detour.

  Not forever. But for now.

  Because none of them could afford to have Brigid distracted.

  They paused in the entryway of his realm, to give the children a chance to get acclimated to their surroundings. For to flash from the colorful realm of Earth into the angelic realm’s total whiteout took the uninitiated a moment of adjustment.

  Both of them gasped in surprise.

  “You’re safe here,” he assured them. “This is my home.” A label he hadn’t used for the place in ages, but language they’d understand as something comforting.

  Eyes widened at the foreign environment, they clung to one another silently.

  Skorpius watched them carefully. They’d already suffered enormous shock and loss. Had their home decimated. An entirely new plane of existence pushed their boundaries even further.

  Yet he’d not accounted for one particular aspect: No young had ever appeared in his realm.

  At first, Connell and Gunna experimented with the cloudlike environment. The ground beneath their feet, though firm, gave a little, bobbing and swaying ever so slightly with movement. And no ceiling existed above. Nor walls around. Only endless amounts of whiteness.

  In actuality, all were crystalline particles of varying densities. White in mass, but iridescent when floating or swirling.

  “Mist,” Connel
l murmured with awe.

  Mist. The closest approximation humans could understand.

  Connell and Gunna took small steps, learning to walk with the slight movement. Gunna even let go of her brother. Fully absorbed in the wonder around her, she swooshed both hands through the iridescent particles.

  And then, to all of their surprise—Skorpius included—the mist reacted to them.

  One at a time, playful tendrils unfurled toward them, reaching out to kiss their skin. To begin, at the tip of a finger or the back of a forearm. Others soon brushed across their cheeks, tapped their noses.

  Gunna’s free laughter at the curious childlike mist tinkled into the muting space.

  Connell glanced at his sister, relief evident in his expression, then laughed with her.

  The sound of their joy was music to Skorpius’s ears. That they’d adapt. Survive.

  Not to mention that if the mist that comprised his world accepted the children as friend, the rest of angelkind were bound to. Or so Skorpius hoped.

  Skorpius let the children and mist play together for a time.

  But once both settled, calming to a degree of acceptance and peace with one another, Skorpius cast a message out into the ether.

  Moments later the mist swirled as another approached.

  “Cass,” Skorpius bowed his head.

  “Skorpius!” A warm smile brightened her face. She strode forward, a faint vanilla scenting the air as she moved alongside him. She brushed a wing against his in affectionate greeting.

  Gasps from the children drew her attention down.

  “Oh, my…” Cass stared wide-eyed at the newcomers. Then she blinked and stared at him. “Tell me they are not…”

  “Mine?” Skorpius lifted his brows. “Just exactly what do you think I’ve been up to?”

  “Not procreating, then.”

  He snorted. “Not sure if that’s even possible.”

  “You’ve evolved into something different than the rest of us.” She shrugged. “Who knows?” Cass moved in front of him, then assessed him with narrowed eyes. “You’ve…transformed…yet again.”

  “It seems I still am.” Once he’d initially detected the change, he’d become able to sense the minute changes. Not that he understood what the new evolution meant. He still hadn’t grasped the full extent of what transforming dark had encompassed.

  “And so the…” Cass nodded toward the tiny silent but enraptured audience.

  “Children,” Skorpius supplied. Human, he further clarified on the mental plane, beyond sensitive and innocent ears. Just orphaned.

  They lost their parents?

  Not only their parents. Their entire village was destroyed. And they remain in grave danger.

  Cass glanced at him. From the destroyer of said village.

  Exactly.

  Her expression hardened. Otherworldly.

  He gave an imperceptible nod. Wouldn’t be here otherwise.

  “Let me guess. I’m to be their guardian?”

  “Do you have another mission?” Skorpius wouldn’t impose if she had other duties.

  “No.” Cass squared her shoulders, then nudged his shoulder with hers. “Consider this mine.”

  She then strolled toward the little ones with an outstretched hand. “Hello you two, my name is Cassiopeia.” Arrowing her wings back, she squatted before them. “But I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends. And my friends call me Cass.”

  The boy took his sister’s hand, then clasped Cass’s. “I’m Connell. And this is—”

  With hard headshake and furrowed brow, the girl separated from him. Then she held out her own tiny hand. “Gunna,” she offered in a lilting voice, soft-spoken but firm.

  Cass, that’s the first time the girl has spoken.

  The first of many challenges she will face. They both will.

  He had no doubt. Thank you. He punched the small words with great depth.

  You are welcome. Cass loaded hers with great meaning as well. But consider yourself indebted.

  Skorpius chuckled as he began to dematerialize. Already do.

  Skorpius flashed back to Earth-realm, anxious to reunite with Brigid.

  Which he found both surprising and invigorating.

  After almost a millennium of cynical solitude, his fractured heart had finally caved. With something even greater than love for him. Hope.

  Instead of tapping into either of his mission threads, both of which hummed steadily, he grounded himself along their new hearts’ tether. And with a touch of magick, he relaxed back into the ether to let their bond lead him to her.

  As he ghosted through the Highland forest, gaining speed along their thread, he called tree names out to her with a warm smile.

  Pine.

  Fir.

  Alder.

  Amusement glittered through the ether back toward him. Chestnut. A pause, then erotic heat radiated through. Yew.

  Their trees. The first, on business. The second? Pure pleasure.

  My favorite.

  Mine as well. Another pause stretched, then she rippled out curiosity. Where are you?

  Skorpius sighted her golden essence up ahead, slowed his speed, then brushed up against her, tugging her out of the slipstream. Right here.

  Knocked safely over open ground, they solidified into a sensual embrace, arms wrapped around one another.

  Damn, I’ve missed you. He lowered his head, molding his lips to hers in a hungry kiss.

  Aye. And I, you. Her hands twisted into his hair at the nape.

  Their kiss intensified for long seconds, until she broke away.

  Shafts of sunlight speared down through the trees, gleaming off the copper spirals of her hair. A healthy pink colored her freckle-dusted cheeks. Luscious lips, glossed from their kiss, tugged into a flirting smile.

  But mercurial silver eyes sparked at him while she caught her breath. “They’re safe?”

  “They are.”

  Her slender brows lifted slightly. “A good home?”

  “The best home.” For now.

  But Brigid didn’t ask. And he didn’t elaborate. Her focus was paramount to all.

  “Any clues?”

  “Aye. And nay.” She gave a frustrated headshake. “Robert and…”—her expression hardened as she sucked in a deep breath and refused to speak their enemy’s name—“they are no longer here. In Earth-realm.”

  “Yet you found something. You’ve covered some ground in the short hour I’ve been gone.”

  “Aye. ’Tis the pull. When I relax into my magick, I’m drawn toward a place I must go.”

  Goddess magick. Something Skorpius had no experience with. No angel ever had.

  “Well, then. Lead on.” He had no other course but to continue his role. To support. And monitor.

  She clasped his hand, then picked her way toward a footpath. “We’re near.”

  Skorpius entwined his fingers through hers as she led the way. The path wasn’t wide enough to accommodate his wings, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he dematerialized only his wings—an act that took greater energy than even maintaining solid form in bright sunlight—just to keep hold of her hand. Because he enjoyed the simple possessive act.

  The pull grows strong. ’Tis beginnin’ to vibrate.

  Listen. Stretch your hearing outward. An ability he knew she innately possessed, no magick required. She’d exhibited it at their first encounter. But even innate preternatural skills required practice.

  Skorpius listened as well.

  Through the normal cacophony of noise in a lively forest, other faint sounds filtered through: scrapes of steel over leather, domesticated animal and human breaths, clinks of settling metal, the occasional whispered word.

  Brigid squeezed his hand, then paused, drawing him alongside her. A party of men move ahead.

  Some on foot. Others on horseback, he added.

  Aye.

  And you’re to engage them?

  I believe so. After a brief contemplative pau
se, she nodded. Aye.

  Skorpius did an internal check as well. The guardian tether? Hummed low. No threat. However, the timeline tether’s vibration had not only increased, but grown erratic.

  Whatever had to happen with the impending encounter had unpredictable results.

  He nearly snorted. Unpredictable? Story of his life.

  “Then let’s proceed to engage,” he murmured, no longer concerned about being detected. He gestured an arm forward. “After you, goddess.”

  For the outcome apparently depended on her.

  Skorpius steeled his heart, preparing to deal with the timeline fallout. One way or another.

  Chapter 37

  Skorpius didn’t attempt to mask their approach.

  And neither did Brigid.

  Which served two purposes: announced their arrival and identified their quarry.

  Because in a wordless instant, the group of men scattered. With near-preternatural stealth. And astonishing coordination.

  Only one brand of human warrior possessed such skill—besides Iain’s elite guard of Highlanders.

  Skorpius said nothing.

  Brigid would discover for herself soon enough.

  And the timeline’s chaotic quivering mandated he remain an observer. For the moment.

  “We mean you no harm,” Brigid murmured, but with magick brushed through her words to echo them into every ear in attendance.

  “M’Lady?” A rustling of leaves preceded a familiar male stepping into view. Blond. Short hair, long beard. Cloaked in black.

  “Wilhelm.” Brigid tilted her head, as if in contemplation.

  Skorpius contemplated with her. No coincidence, he offered. All tied together. Somehow.

  Aye, she agreed. “What brings you here.” She glanced around, searching for his brothers.

  Wilhelm whistled. Apparently an “all clear” signal, for the surrounding forest came alive with similarly shorn and clad men.

  Templars. Skorpius made no secret of their identity to her. Brigid needed to know.

  Aye. Confidence strengthened her tone. She’d either figured it out or wholeheartedly agreed.

  A dozen men appeared around them at close perimeter. Brigid spun in a slow circle, taking in every face. Skorpius stood beside her and did the same. Unmistakable in his support.