Needed By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 5)

by Rebecca Preston

  “But if you find yourself in conversation with anyone strange… well.”

  “She almost gave me her name earlier,” Darter said brightly, his ears twitching with merriment.

  “I stopped her,” Niall put in drily.

  Helen couldn’t help but scowl — they were talking about her as if she’d been taken in by a con man.

  “Silly girl,” Maggie cackled. Then she turned a reproving eye to Darter. “I certainly hope you were planning to give it straight back.”

  “Of course,” Darter said innocently. “A lesson, that’s all I wanted to impart.”

  “Okay. So don’t take any favors, and don’t tell anyone my name,” Helen said, trying to commit these things to memory.

  “You can tell people your name until you’re blue in the face,” Maggie said dismissively. “Just don’t give it to them. Words are important, with magic. And if you’re offered something that seems too good to be true… don’t take it until you force the giver to name it a gift. They’ll make you feel terribly rude about it, but that’s part of the game.”

  “Okay. Anything else I should know?”

  “Oh, a lifetime’s worth,” Maggie chuckled, “but that’s enough to be getting on with for now. Just tread very carefully if you run into anyone you think is Fae. Present company excepted,” she added with a chuckle. “Darter and I can be trusted. More or less,” she added, shooting the goblin a look.

  “Speaking of Fae,” she said, a more serious cast coming over her wrinkled face. “What are we going to do about these missing fishermen?”

  Chapter 24

  “Trust you to be miles ahead of us, Maggie,” Niall said with a grin.

  “Well, I have my ways,” she said mysteriously. “But mostly it’s that Malcolm came storming down here a few days ago, full of storm and worry. I’d have hoped fatherhood would have mellowed him out a little, but he’s still the same old firecracker. At any rate — he filled me in on the disappearances. Doesn’t sound good.”

  “What does the Monster have to say about it?” Niall asked.

  Maggie sighed. “She wasn’t particularly forthcoming when I spoke to her. She’s not exactly the kind of creature who communicates in words, either, which makes it tricky. The impression I got was… considerable numbers. More than she could chase down by herself. It’s possible whatever’s doing this is too fast for her and made it to the shore before she could eat them.”

  Helen shivered. She’d been imagining a single creature, stalking its prey one by one. The idea that there may be more of them out there hadn’t occurred to her … and it was an unsettling one, to be sure. Maggie was looking intently at Niall, her bright eyes focused.

  “You’ve seen something. You suspect something.”

  “Aye,” Niall admitted. “I have, and I do. Helen and I rode into the village this morning to check on the fishermen. There’s… unpleasantness,” he said, grimacing, and Helen hid a smile at that rather polite summary of their morning.

  “What kind of unpleasantness?” Maggie wanted to know.

  “Oh, the usual. Scared men with more strength than sense.”

  “Tale as old as time.” Maggie shrugged. “Where’s their fury going? Should I put up my wards again?”

  Niall sighed. “They’re not after you this time, Maggie, thankfully. They’re a group led by Perry MacCullen. He’s lost both his brothers to whatever’s doing this…”

  Maggie clicked her tongue sympathetically. “Dreadful thing. Grief fuels fear, fear fuels anger. I assume they’re coming for the Monster?”

  Niall looked surprised. “Aye, they are. I tried to talk sense into them, but —”

  “But men are fools, of course. I’ll warn Nessie, tell her to keep to the deeper areas of the Loch for now. But that won’t be good for whatever’s actually hunting the fishermen. Her patrols are probably what’s keeping them from killing more.”

  Helen shivered. “You’re sure they’re being killed? There’s not a chance they’re just being… taken?”

  “I don’t think so,” Niall said softly. “Not with the blood on the rafts. And not… not with what we saw this afternoon.”

  “And what was that?” Maggie asked sharply, leaning forwards.

  Niall sighed. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “I don’t like any of this. Spit it out.”

  “We found a bush, broken as though by a fall or a struggle. Beside it, some hoofprints had dried into the mud. Hoofprints that were pointed toward the Loch… with drag marks scuffing them slightly. Almost as though a horse had dragged its fallen rider down the shore.”

  The look on Maggie’s face was thunderous. Helen had never felt more left out of a conversation than she did as both Maggie and Darter leaned forward, their bodies electric with tension, as though Niall had just confessed to doing the murders himself.

  “You’re sure?” Darter said, and his usually bright, cheerful voice had dropped a full register.

  It was frightening, and Helen sat back in her chair, clutching her tea with strong unease prickling at her stomach.

  “Aye. You can come and have a look yourselves — the place isn’t far from here.”

  “What is it?” Helen asked, tired of feeling lost in the dark. “What does it mean, a horse dragging its rider into the Loch?”

  “That’s not what happened,” Maggie said softly. “And it was no horse. Helen — have you ever heard the name Kelpie?”

  She bit her lip, thinking hard. The word was vaguely familiar… she’d had a book of old stories a long time ago, had it featured in there? “I don’t think so.”

  Maggie sighed. “If it’s kelpies, we’re in more trouble than we thought. And those men are dead as doornails, of course.”

  A shiver ran down Helen’s spine, and she sipped at her tea, cold comfort in the midst of such a dark conversation. “Is there any way to know for sure?” Niall asked.

  “A guard went missing, I heard? I know they patrol along the shore. Check where he was stationed. I can’t say I heard anything, but kelpies are silent hunters.”

  “What is a kelpie, exactly?” Helen asked, leaning forward. “Sorry, I just — I want to be caught up, and I can’t help if I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

  “They look like horses,” Maggie said softly, her voice taking on a strange tone that Helen hadn’t heard before — as though she was drawing on memories from a lifetime ago. “Beautiful, beautiful horses — all the charm and elegance of the Fae. Men have gone mad trying to catch them when they see them, rightfully assuming they’d be worth a small fortune at market… or just desiring them for the vanity of riding into town on the back of such a proud, beautiful creature. But that’s part of how they hunt.”

  Helen shivered again, squeezing her warm cup of tea to try to ground herself. Was it darker in the cottage than it had been before? Even with the cheery light of a few torches, it felt like the light had crept out of the room since they’d started talking about kelpies.

  “They hunt at night, like most Unseelie Fae, so most don’t notice that their manes and tails are perpetually dripping wet. Nor do they notice their eyes are black, not brown… or that they’ve got mouths full of sharp, savage teeth, in multiple rows. Well, they notice that part eventually. When it’s too late to do anything about it.”

  “They… maul men to death?”

  “They prefer to drown their prey,” Maggie said matter-of-factly. “They’ll lure men or livestock to the shore with their charm and their beauty — then they’ll either convince them to ride on their backs, or simply drag them into the water with their jaws. They swim unbelievably fast — they’ll take their rider out beyond his depth immediately. And once they’ve drowned, they eat every single part. Bones, organs, flesh, even hair and fingernails.”

  Helen had seen some awful crime scene images in her past — she drew on the resilience she’d built, gritting her teeth against the horrible image that Maggie was painting. “Do they hunt men on boats? Rafts, for example?”<
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  “Aye, it wouldn’t be beyond them,” Maggie said thoughtfully. “Especially if they’re hungry enough. But I’d imagine they’d only hunt at night. And they’d do so in groups, not alone. Given what the Monster has imparted to me about the creatures she was chasing… aye, it all makes a great deal of sense. A herd of Kelpies would be swift in the water. No doubt Nessie snagged a few of them in her jaws, but more would have reached the safety of the shore than she could catch.”

  Helen’s heart sunk. “So we’re contending with a herd of monsters, not just one.”

  “Aye, it seems that way.”

  “What can we do?” Niall wanted to know, his brow furrowed. “What weaknesses do they have?”

  “Not many, I’m afraid. The weaknesses of all Fae, of course — iron’ll harm them. They’re as intelligent as any human — capable of speech, too, though they rarely use it save as a tactic for luring their victims to the water’s edge.” Maggie heaved a sigh. “I’ll see if I can remember any more, but that’s all I’ve got for you at the moment, I’m afraid.”

  “This is more than enough to be getting on with, Maggie. Our heartfelt thanks for the gift of your knowledge,” Niall said solemnly.

  Maggie chortled, raising her eyebrows at Helen. “See how he did that? He called it a gift. Gifts mean no obligations.”

  “Oh, Maggie, you know the whole castle’s obliged to you,” Niall said, giving her that toothy grin that filled Helen with so many butterflies.

  The old woman cackled again. “Aye, and a good thing I’d never do anything with that obligation, too. Now, the pair of you ought to be toddling off home. Kelpies hunt by night,” she said darkly — and with a start, Helen realized that the sun was beginning to set. They’d been here longer than she thought — they rose to their feet, saying their goodbyes to Maggie and Darter, promising to come by to visit again soon.

  “No obligations, of course, but if Blair happens to be making shortbread any time soon…”

  “Say no more,” Niall said solemnly, sketching an oddly formal little bow to Maggie as they lingered on the porch.

  Their horses were tethered to the tree that stood in Maggie’s front yard, and Helen eyed them thoughtfully, picturing them with wet manes and tails, with black eyes and mouths full of sharp, serrated teeth…

  “Thanks again, Maggie. I’ll share all this with the Laird, and with any luck we’ll have no more disappearances.”

  They rode in contemplative silence, the warm light of sunset bathing them both in its glow. Helen glanced over at Niall, who was deep in thought, a frown on his face. “This was a good day,” she told him firmly, recognizing the signs of someone who was overthinking their duty. “We found those hoofprints, we have a solid theory about what’s doing the damage, and a plan of action.”

  “A plan of action?”

  “Well, Donal’s still got the guard patrols doubled, right? We tell them all to keep an eye out for horses, to stay close to one another so they can’t be picked off by the herd, to carry iron weapons… and would it be worth telling the villagers what to look out for too?”

  “Aye, that’s a good point,” Niall said, his expression clearing a little.

  She smiled secretly. Niall was a lot like her, it seemed — he thrived on having something to do, some task to focus his restless mind on so he didn’t lose it worrying about whether he should be doing more to protect his people.

  “Will the villagers do what they’re told? If you ask them to stay inside at night, will they obey?”

  “Some of them,” Niall said, frowning. “Some of them for sure. The others… well, the sensible ones follow the instructions of the Sept. But there’s no accounting for the foolish arrogance of men. Father Caleb will help,” he added, unexpectedly.

  Helen blinked. “He will? How?”

  Niall chuckled. “I know he seems a little… young, and insecure, but Caleb’s got a lot more mettle than you’d think. And for all his faults and foibles, he’s very good with the villagers. He’s won them over in the last few years — they trust him and listen to him. It helps, of course, that he doesn’t openly acknowledge his friendship with the Sept — he treads a fine line between the villagers and the Sept, which means even the ones who oppose our work trust him. He’s a valuable ally. I imagine Donal will want to speak to him about all this once we tell him what we know.” Niall urged his horse forward, clearly keen to get back to the castle. But before they reached the gates, he turned back to look at her, a smile on his face. “Helen — I wanted to thank you for your work. Without you, we wouldn’t have any idea that we’re dealing with Kelpies. I’m incredibly grateful the Sidhe brought you to us.”

  Beaming, Helen followed him through the gates of the castle, her heart pounding in her chest. Kelpies or no Kelpies — it had been a very, very good day.

  Chapter 25

  As the night drew in, so too did the people of the Castle, drawn to the central point that was the dining hall. There was something deeply significant about this ritual, the evening meal, everyone coming together to talk and laugh about the day, to gather where it was warm… and something about the lack of technology made it more meaningful, somehow. Out here, everything was a lot closer to the dark and to the cold, and Helen found herself feeling deeply grateful for the company of the castle folk at dinner.

  She and Niall were invited to dine with the Laird again — he and Anna were seated at the high table, Brendan and Malcolm also present, though their wives were elsewhere — something about Elena not feeling well as a result of her pregnancy. Eamon, it seemed, had already been given his dinner, and was tucked up fast asleep in Anna’s quarters — a surprisingly early night for the usually energetic four-year-old, but as Anna explained, it seemed her daughter Gwyneth had kept the little boy on his toes all day.

  “I honestly don’t know where they get the energy from,” Anna said, rolling her eyes. “They seem far too small to hold it all.”

  “Faerie magic,” Niall said simply. “That’s the only explanation that makes any sense to me. Every child has some dark connection to the Fae realm that powers them beyond normal human abilities.”

  Helen giggled around her mouthful of food. It certainly made sense, as a theory — little Eamon seemed to go and go all day. She hadn’t realized how rested she felt as a result of not being around him for the day — but she was also surprised to realize that she missed the little terror.

  “And how did you two go in the village?” Donal asked, turning his eyes to Helen and Niall. Pleased to be included in the delegation, Helen turned to the Laird, listening closely as Niall delivered his report.

  “Well, the bad news is that Perry MacCullen seems to be getting a band of vigilantes together,” he said heavily. “They met us with spears and a lot of hostility when we rode in. He’s lost both his brothers, you see,” he said, a shadow crossing his face.

  Both Donal and Malcolm nodded, exchanging glances. Losing a brother was a terrible thing, Helen thought with a sigh. She certainly missed all of hers tremendously. But would she react so violently if they were taken by some unknown creature?

  “Vigilantes? What action do they plan to take?”

  “At the moment, they’re focused on the Monster. Apparently, they blame her for the deaths.”

  “The deaths? We’ve confirmed that?” Malcolm broke in, a worried look on his face.

  Niall nodded, frowning. “I’m afraid so. We stopped by Maggie’s place on the way home, after failing to talk any kind of sense into the villagers. On the way, Helen did some investigating and we found some hoofprints on the shore.”

  Donal looked mystified. “Is the creature hunting horses, too?”

  “Not exactly, though it wouldn’t be beyond it. We talked to Maggie about what we found, and she confirmed my suspicion. Kelpies.”

  Donal took a deep breath and let it out, a sigh hissing through his teeth as he took in this information. It was clear from the look on his face that he knew exactly what a Kelpie was, though Anna at his
side looked quietly mystified. “Kelpies. You’re sure?”

  “Maggie’s pretty sure,” Niall said. “All the signs are here… and a whole herd of them would explain why the Monster wasn’t able to catch them all, she said.”

  “That means they’re out and about in the forest, hunting?”

  “Aye, it’d be safer for them there than in the water with the monster,” Niall explained. “Maggie said to arm everyone with iron and make sure the guards travel in pairs so they can’t be picked off one by one. And obviously, a curfew would be advisable for the castle folk as well as the villagers — though I don’t know what kind of reception that idea will receive.”

  “We’ll talk to Caleb,” Donal said thoughtfully. “Brendan? How are your guards doing?”

  The men lapsed into a detailed discussion of guard patrols and tactics, and Anna took Helen by the hand, wanting to know exactly what a Kelpie was. Helen explained to the best of her memory what Maggie had said, worried by the look of fear on Anna’s usually staunch face.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” the woman said finally. “God, just when I thought we’d finally get some peace around here.”

  “The hoofprints were by Maggie’s cottage?” Brendan was saying, his eyes widening. “That was the last place my guard was seen alive.”

  Helen’s heart sank. The hoofprints they’d seen, the drag marks… they’d belonged to the hapless guard who’d been killed that first night that the patrols had been doubled. Knowing that they’d been investigating the scene of a death and not a disappearance made her stomach feel cold, and she pushed away the last of her dinner, suddenly feeling a lack of appetite.

  After dinner, she and Niall headed upstairs to Anna and Donal’s quarters to collect a sleepy Eamon, who rubbed at his eyes as he stirred from his rest. Gently, Niall scooped the boy up into his arms — still half asleep and very pliant, the little boy nestled into his father’s arms, resting his head against his shoulder. For a moment, Niall gazed down at his son, and the light of love on his face was so touching and beautiful that Helen had to turn away, feeling as though she was intruding on something private. They headed down the stairs after saying goodnight to Anna (and promising to babysit little Gwyneth in return at some point in the future.) Odd, how she’d almost become Niall’s sidekick — as if they were a little family unit all of their own. Weeks ago, she would have felt strange about that kind of relationship. But somehow, this felt… nice. Right, almost. As though she was where she was meant to be.