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

by Rebecca Preston

  Sure enough, there were a dozen guards or so, bickering over a collection of long iron blades that Brendan was presiding over — it seemed some were sharper than others, and an argument had broken out about who deserved the better weapons. Brendan’s exasperated expression shifted when he saw her loitering in the doorway, and he hurried forward with a smile, clearly grateful for the distraction.

  “Helen, what a welcome surprise.”

  “Good morning, Brendan. I was wondering if I might prevail upon the armory and borrow an iron weapon.”

  He tilted his head to the side, a suspicious look on his face. “You’re not thinking of going Kelpie hunting, are you?”

  “God, no,” she said, blinking at him in horror. “If I had a gun, maybe. But I don’t know the first thing about these weapons. I’ll be taking every safety precaution possible. But Maggie was telling us these things hate iron, so I thought it might help to have some on my person. Just in case.”

  “Can’t fault your thinking there,” Brendan admitted. “My apologies for doubting your motives. My wife doesn’t quite have the same rational attitude to these kinds of things.”

  She giggled, picturing Elena stalking the forest in search of Kelpies to stab. “She’s a brave woman.”

  “Bravery in the wrong place gets you killed,” Brendan said darkly. “I’m much more interested in discipline than I am in courage.”

  “Watch out, lass,” one of the guards called to her, a roguish twinkle in his eye. “This lecture goes for hours if you’re not careful.”

  “Ah, stow it,” Brendan snapped back at the guard, but there was a grin on his face. “Here,” he said, moving over to a cabinet. “There are some iron blades in here — small, easily concealed, but they may serve your purposes.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking of,” Helen said, taking the blade he offered her. “My thanks.”

  “Just make sure you leave it outside if you visit with Maggie,” Brendan added with a grin. “She and Darter hate iron just as much as the Unseelie do.”

  She left him to his work, distributing longer blades among the men, and quickly found a hiding place for the iron blade in the depths of the gown she was wearing. It was a comforting presence — not that she had any intention of seeking out Kelpies to test it on. She was very much the kind of woman who liked to prepare for the worst… and on the off-chance some Fae creature tracked her down, you never knew when something small could change the odds into your favor.

  She was thinking about asking Anna for some quick lessons on how to fight with a knife when she heard raised voices. A frown crossed her face — it sounded like they were coming from the foyer of the castle. Men — angry men. What could be happening down there? The atmosphere at breakfast hadn’t been exactly positive, but she hadn’t expected to hear shouting… she hurried down the spiral staircase, interested despite herself to find out what was going on.

  The source of the sound was easily to discover. There, in the center of the castle’s entrance hall, stood Niall, deep in furious conversation with a man she recognized, with a dull sinking dread, as Perry. Well, she thought drily, at least he hadn’t been kidnapped by a Kelpie overnight… but Niall didn’t seem particularly thrilled about that himself.

  “Don’t be absurd, Perry,” Niall was saying through gritted teeth. “You know we grew up together, you know I still consider you a friend despite your ridiculous conduct yesterday, but —”

  “Both my brothers are dead, Niall! Both of them! Do you have any idea what that feels like? They’re dead, and it’s your precious Monster that’s to blame! Their blood on your hands!”

  “It’s not the Monster, Perry, for the hundredth time!” Niall exploded, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing with fury. “It’s Fae creatures from the Burgh, I’ve explained that —”

  “A likely story,” Perry scoffed. “Magical horses with dripping wet tails? There’s no way my brothers were killed by a horse — they’ve been riding since before they could walk. And it seems mighty convenient that this story about sharp-toothed horses comes up the minute we take matters into our own hands. Why are you protecting that monstrous beast?”

  “Because she protects us, you damn fool!”

  Perry recoiled, his eyes glimmering with hatred. “Is that the way it’s going to be? You’ll curse at one of your oldest friends in his time of loss, his time of grief—”

  “Don’t be daft. I loved both of your brothers — I ache at their loss the same way you do —”

  “Then you owe me revenge!” Perry snarled, and Helen recoiled at the look of absolute madness on his face. “You owe me that much, Niall Grant! I want that monster dead, and I want its head on a pike in the village so we can all grieve and then get on with our lives knowing justice has been done. And if you’re not willing to give me that —”

  “Enough.”

  A voice boomed out across the hall — and Helen’s eyes widened as she saw Donal, resplendent in full armor, striding across the hall to where Niall and Perry were arguing. The Laird had his hand on the pommel of his blade and his eyes were cold as he looked at Perry.

  “What’s the meaning of all this?”

  “Laird Donal,” Niall said quickly, bowing his head. “This man isn’t in his right mind—”

  “I can speak for myself, you cowardly traitor,” Perry snarled, turning to Donal. “I came to demand the death of the Monster that you pack of dogs keep like a pet in the Loch. I want its head on a stick for what it’s done to my brothers and the fisherman of this village.”

  “The monster is not responsible for their deaths,” Donal said in a low voice — but Perry was clearly beyond listening.

  “I want it dead! Dead, you hear me? It’s an abomination! And if you won’t do the right thing — if you won’t give me justice —”

  Helen saw Perry reach for his blade at the same time Niall and Donal did. In one motion, both men tackled him, knocking him to the ground with an almost comical look of surprise on his face. In a flurry of movement, guards had moved to assist from the corners of the room — guards who’d been watching the altercation closely. In minutes, Perry’s hands were bound behind him and he was being forcibly restrained by a placid guard as he tried to lunge at Donal, screaming blue murder all the while.

  “I don’t tolerate threats to my men on castle grounds,” Donal said in a low, flat voice. “Now, I understand that you’re grieving, and that that is addling your mind a little, so I’ll be generous. You’re not a prisoner, but you will be kept in the dungeons here for a little while until you’ve regained your right mind. If I hear another word about wanting us to execute an innocent animal to assuage your guilt-driven paranoia, your status as a guest and not a prisoner may change. Do I make myself clear?”

  There was murder in Perry’s eyes as he glared up at his captor, breathing hard and clearly exhausted by his struggle with the guard. Donal sighed at the lack of response.

  “Very well. Take him to the dungeons until he’s had time to cool off. We’ll revisit this conversation later.”

  Helen watched, curious. She hadn’t been to the dungeons — her explorations of the castle had been focused on the upper levels, though she knew there were ladders and staircases that extended deep into the base of the castle. She saw the guard drag Perry toward a door she hadn’t been through, and her eyes widened as she saw him dragged down the stairs and out of sight. Curiosity was burning in her stomach. From the way Perry had been talking, it almost seemed like he’d seen what happened to his brothers. Was there a chance that there was an eyewitness account here that they were missing? It wasn’t hugely likely, she knew that — much more likely that he’d driven himself crazy thinking about what had happened. But still… a part of her was very interested in what he might have to say about what had happened.

  And besides, she thought, glancing back at Niall — she wasn’t especially keen to speak to the Harbormaster, not with so many unresolved feelings still racing through her body and her mind. He hadn�
��t spotted her yet — he’d been thoroughly distracted by Perry’s antics, and now he was deep in worried conversation with the Laird, the two of them strolling toward the dining hall as they talked. Well, she wasn’t going to interrupt them. But she was very interested in having a quick chat with Perry… especially while he was a captive audience.

  She waited in the hall, her eyes on the door to the dungeons — she knew better than to go down there while the guard was still there. He’d definitely dissuade her from speaking to the prisoner, probably interested in getting the man to calm down so they could send him away. After a moment’s thought, she ducked into the kitchens to grab a few bread rolls. If she was caught going to visit with the prisoner, she could just claim that she was taking him some food. Besides, bringing him a snack might endear her to him. It had certainly worked in Niall, she thought with amusement.

  She sat on a bench in the hall and ate one of the bread rolls slowly — and when the guard returned from the dungeons, he didn’t give her a second glance. Once he was gone, she hopped to her feet and headed for the door to the dungeon, her heart pounding with the audacity of this maneuver. It will be fine, she told herself. Just a quick visit to a man who was presumably behind bars. Maybe it would help solve the case. It couldn’t hurt, right?

  And before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled the door open and slipped down the stairs to the castle dungeon.

  Chapter 28

  It was cold in here — that was the first thing she noticed. Cold, and damp, as though the waters of the Loch had crept through the walls somehow and coated the whole place in cold, moist unpleasantness. She shivered a little as she navigated the stone steps, taking extra care not to fall — it wouldn’t be a very good look to break her leg while making a questionable visit to a prisoner, would it? She’d be an invalid again… and she didn’t think she could handle Niall taking care of her. Not with how she was feeling about him at the moment… she shivered a little, taking each step carefully as she descended deeper and deeper into the depths of the castle.

  The dungeons weren’t a pleasant place. She’d been expecting them to be a little spooky, but this was something else entirely… iron cells, rough stone walls, lit only by a paltry torch on one wall. She could see the cell Perry had been put into — he was lying on the low stone cot with his head in his hands, clearly still full of anger at how he’d been treated. She approached cautiously, letting her footsteps ring out against the stone to warn him that someone was coming, and he sat up when he heard her, a look of suspicion and anger on his face.

  “I brought you some lunch,” she said softly, reaching out to hand him a piece of bread through the bars. He took it, his face a mask of suspicion as he scrutinized her through the bars in the flickering light of the torch.

  “You’re that woman who was with Niall yesterday,” he said in a low voice, narrowing his eyes. “The one on the horse. Didn’t have much to say then, did you?”

  “My name’s Helen,” she said, ignoring the provocative tone in his voice. She’d been goaded by prisoners before — it was easy enough to ignore it when you understood the hurt, frightened place it was coming from. “You’re Perry, right?”

  “Aye, Perry MacCullen. Last of my name, at this rate,” he snarled. “What with the Monster picking us off one by one with the full permission of these Clan Grant cowards…”

  She took a deep breath. “What makes you think the Monster ate your brothers?”

  “Do you even hear yourself, you daft girl? The Monster. It’s in its name.” The insult rankled, but she steadied her breathing. “What do monsters do? They eat people. I want it dead.”

  “We’ve been investigating,” she said, trying to calm him. “We’ve found evidence that it’s not the Monster that’s been taking the men —”

  “Evidence, is it? Don’t you think the world of yourself?” An ugly note in his voice… and Helen was beginning to realize that the look in his eyes meant he wasn’t listening to her so much as he was gathering ammunition with which to attack her. “Just like a woman, to go sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Leave it to the men, sweetheart. Men have brains. The only thing you’ve got of value’s between your legs.”

  She narrowed her eyes. She’d heard worse, of course — but given how kind the men she’d met here so far had been, it was strange to hear such virulent misogyny coming from this man. “Is that so.”

  “Aye, that’s so,” he mocked her, getting to his feet and approaching her, wrapping his hands around the bars. “But it’s sweet of you to bring me something to eat. All by yourself… I thought you were Niall’s whore, but it seems you’re up for anything, isn’t that right? How much do you charge, love?”

  She recoiled from the bars, not so much from what he was saying but the ugly glint in his eye as he was saying it. An expression of mocking dismay crossed his face as she backed away.

  “Oh no, she’s shy! Come on, darling. I’ve got a pocketful of change, why don’t you come over here and see to me through the bars? That must have been what you came down here for,” he snarled. “No self-respecting woman wanders unaccompanied — especially into the dungeons of a castle —”

  “You’re demented,” she spat, feeling her temper fray and snap. Why was she bothering to keep herself calm in the face of this man’s anger? What was the point? He was monstrous — there was no sense at all in trying to keep him calm. He’d made his decision, that was abundantly clear from the look on his face — he was going to embrace the madness that the death of his brothers’ had caused in him, and there was no way anyone was going to talk him into being reasonable.

  He reached down to his belt, still making lascivious sounds at her, ugly kissing noises, trying to entreat her over to the bars. She threw the remaining piece of bread at him, anger spiking in her chest. “I hope a Kelpie eats you,” she snarled — then turned and strode from the dungeon, her heart pounding with white-hot rage as she tried to vent her fury in the hard strikes of her boots on the floor. She climbed the stairs quickly, full of anger — at him for being disgusting, and at herself for believing that a conversation like that might have done any good whatsoever.

  Finally, she was up the stairs and in the hall again, sunlight spilling through the doors and making her feel a lot less unsettled. She leaned against the door for a moment, breathing hard, feeling very rattled as a result of the unpleasant encounter downstairs… and it was a while before she realized that she wasn’t alone up here.

  “Hello, Helen.”

  She felt a chill run down her spine at that tone — and turned to see Elena, standing with her arms crossed and a distinctly unamused look on her face. She bit her lip, trying to decide quickly how to play this one.

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough,” Elena said simply, raising an eyebrow. “Long enough to see you come out of the dungeons. What exactly do you think you’re playing at?”

  Helen sighed, rubbing her face. “Stupid idea, I know.”

  “Not just stupid. Dangerous.” Elena sighed. “But I did my fair share of creeping around the castle alone when I first got here. I understand, really. Come grab a cup of soup with me?” she suggested, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s talk about it, hmm?”

  Not sure whether she was in trouble with the stern Baltimore cop, Helen followed obediently, shooting the red-haired woman occasional sidelong glances in an attempt to figure out if she was angry with her. They found a seat together in a quiet corner of the dining hall — lunch hadn’t quite been served yet, and not many people were about just yet. Elena sipped her soup, then pinned that penetrating gray-eyed stare on Helen. She shivered.

  “You worked homicide, didn’t you?”

  That surprised a smile out of Elena. “Yeah, I did. Why?”

  “There’s something about homicide cops. They stare right through you.”

  “Well, I’m retired,” Elena said, shrugging. “Guess old habits die hard. But Helen — seriously, you can’t go runni
ng around the castle alone like that. You’re a newcomer here. The men in charge are good men, and kind, but — they take this place and its safety seriously. If you get a reputation for creeping around by yourself, keeping secrets… well, it nearly got me killed when I first came here.”

  Helen’s eyes widened. “How?”

  Elena sighed, her eyes shadowed. “It’s a long story. To make it short… I thought I knew better than the men who’ve been guarding the Burgh all their lives. Took matters into my own hands… and made a problem far worse than it would have been if I’d just been honest. I nearly got Brendan killed, too. I’d have never been able to forgive myself.”

  Helen swallowed hard. “I just… I just thought I might be able to get some information out of Perry.”

  “And that’s a reasonable thought… for the twenty-first century. Here, you’re a woman alone. A stranger, as well as a woman. He’d have no reason to listen to you. Let me guess — he made fun of you, then made some crude sexual advance?”

  She bit her lip. “Yeah, pretty much spot-on there.”

  “Yeah. I know the type.” Elena sighed. “Honestly, I commend your pluck. These men are rubbish at interrogations, that’s for sure. But trying to talk to a man like that… it’s a waste of time. And Niall and Donal know that, which is why they stuffed him in the dungeon instead of trying to talk with him.”

  “You’re right,” Helen said heavily. “I don’t know what I was thinking. He just… he was so angry, and his anger’s so misplaced. I thought… I thought either I could get some information out of him, or I could talk to him until he saw sense… talk him into not wanting the Monster killed… I don’t know.”

  Elena’s keen eyes were on her, sharp and incisive. “I know. You feel powerless here. You feel like you spent your life working on a set of skills that are orphaned, now, that have nothing to do with the world you’ve inherited. What’s that old saying? When you’ve got a hammer, every problem starts looking like a nail. You want to use those skills, Helen. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Elena sighed. “It’s exactly the mistake I made when I first got here, which is why I’m getting on your case so hard.”