Honor of a Scottish Warrior

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Honor of a Scottish Warrior Page 22

by Sky Purington


  “Three fortnights?” she whispered.

  “A month and a half as you would say it.”

  “Fuc-fudge, no,” she murmured, eyes growing wider. “You’re screwing with me, right?”

  “Nay,” he murmured. “The Vikings sent us on our way and the wee Bruce remains at the Mother Oak with all of the Next Generation, Fionn, and Kjar to protect him.”

  “Kjar too?” she asked, relief in her eyes.

  “Aye.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “That’s good. He’s with the best of the best.” Then her eyes met his. “And Heidrek and little Tait are safe?”

  “Aye,” he assured. “Nothing will get by the Viking King and his brothers.”

  “Except Brae Stewart!” she pointed out. “Why the hell was Tait even there to begin with when Naðr said all dragon-shifter kids were at the fortress?”

  “Because ‘twould have been unwise to put all of their bloodline in one place,” Niall said. “Kjar was with Tait and that was enough for not only Naðr but the wee one’s Da, Kol.”

  “So how did Brae end up there?” Nicole kept frowning. “And how did you end up in the Celtic Otherworld?”

  “We still dinnae ken how Brae arrived there, but I do know how I got to you.”

  “How?”

  Niall rallied himself for her reaction. While it had meant everything to him, it might make her run away as fast as she could.

  Not meaning to, his brogue thickened with his emotions. “Ye had to love, lass.”

  “Love?” she murmured. Her eyes tore from his and she stared at the floor, whispering, “I remember that. I remember your voice in my mind. I thought it had to mean loving you, but then I realized it could mean Robert.”

  That worked for him so he tried to pull his hand away before she got too close…before she heard the thoughts he tried to repress.

  Her hands clamped tightly around his and she blinked several times before her eyes shot to his. “Oh my God.”

  He might have tried to block her, but something had changed.

  They were too connected now.

  She knew.

  “You sat in that oak in the mountain day after day trying to…communicate with me?” Her eyes grew moist. “Find me?”

  Lying to her would be pointless. So he did not.

  “Aye,” he whispered. Try as he might, he couldn’t push the memories away. All the long hours fearing for her life. Terrified that she was dead. The endless guilt he felt because he had not stopped her. Had not kept her safe. He had failed and she was gone. With her, a part of him he never knew existed.

  “How did you finally make contact?” Her brows drew down. “How was it that I finally heard you?”

  Niall tried to speak, but the words died on his lips.

  “Love,” Rònan said softly from the doorway. “Ye finally realized that ye loved him as much as he loved ye and the ring heard it.”

  “Oh, shit,” she croaked and stood. When she wobbled, he pulled her back down so she wouldn't fall. Giving her space, knowing full well those were the last words she wanted to hear, Niall made sure she was safely sitting and walked to the fire.

  “Ye should stay by her side, Cousin,” Rònan began, but Niall interrupted him.

  “Nay, ‘tis not what she wants.”

  “No,” Nicole said, voice thick. “It’s not.”

  Her words might have well been a million axes thrust into his gut.

  “What I mean is,” Nicole started but she was cut off by Iosbail.

  “’Tis no kin o’ mine that makes me King wait such as ye are.”

  All apologized, but Rònan was the one to save the day. Arm held out to Iosbail, he said, “Might I have the pleasure of walking with ye, lass? ‘Twould do my heart good.”

  “Och, I ought not.” Iosbail twisted her lips as she peered up at him. “But ye said it graciously enough ye did.”

  Nicole and Niall stared at each other for several long, lost moments before they trailed behind Iosbail and Rònan. Niall didn’t dare say a word to his lass and it appeared she felt the same because she remained silent. They were at an impasse that neither understood.

  Yet it was an impasse that had saved them both.

  Her from the Celtic Otherworld

  Him from…what? But he knew.

  Endless grief.

  Because what he felt when she was taken, what he had felt when he thought she was lost to him forever, was incomparable. A feeling so soul-deep that the idea of losing her again made him sick to his stomach. Aye, she might return to the twenty-first century but at least he would know she was alive and well. Mayhap not with him but alive. And that was all he cared about.

  There were few people in the great hall. A bagpipe played softly and food had been laid out. But none of that mattered as his eyes went to the man standing in front of the fire.

  Gods and damnation, it was Alan Stewart.

  Brae Stewart’s father.

  Chapter Fifteen

  IN ANY OTHER reality—mostly a twenty-first century one—Nicole would have already downed the mug of whisky handed to her. But this was not any other reality and drinking was about the last thing on her mind. You would think having been to hell, in one form or another, she would want to drown her sorrows in liquor but no. The truth was she wasn’t sad in the least. Confused maybe, but not sad. She wanted Niall alone so they could talk more. So she could understand what was happening between them.

  But it seemed that was not going to happen any time soon.

  It was easily an hour later and they were well past dining and making pleasant chit-chat. Not that she ate much or even talked all that much. Neither appealed to her in the least. Niall had shared his story about how he arrived in the Otherworld. What he could not explain however was Adlin’s arrival. Vika, naturally, had not strayed far from Niall so it made sense he would have ridden her into the afterlife, such as it was.

  Maybe in his late fifties, Alan Stewart was as handsome as she imagined he might be having met his daughter. The only difference? He was super kind where his offspring clearly wasn't.

  While Nicole might be eager, no, desperate, to get Niall alone, compassion won over as she eyed Alan. The vacant, searching way he looked at the fire when the conversation turned from him told her a lot. He had no idea why his daughter went rogue. Worse than that, he was struggling with news of her twin brother, his first born son, Cullen. Apparently Brae had murdered him and he had, of all things, become an angel. While that was pretty darn cool, what he did to stop his sister was not.

  It seemed Cullen had embraced evil and become a warlock to fight her. That meant his wings were clipped. Long story short, he'd been banned not only by God but by Fionn Mac Cumhail into the twenty-first century. Nobody knew what became of him after that.

  “I guess we’re all a little out of it,” Nicole said softly, sitting next to Alan.

  He offered a forced smile in greeting. “To say the least, lass.”

  Though Nicole wasn’t sure she should tell him her doubts about Brae because it was probably nothing, her heart went out to him. “Is there any chance Brae could’ve been forced into what she’s doing?”

  She might have been trying to keep it between them, but everyone went quiet at her words.

  “What say ye, lass?” Iosbail said.

  “I don’t know.” Nicole shook her head. “Maybe it was nothing but when Niall showed up, Brae called me a fool and started to say I could save something. That was all she got out before she went all…” Her eyes darted to Alan. “Well, she went with the evil guy she’s hooked up with.” She frowned at everyone. “Why would she have said I could save something when she not only wanted my ring but wanted me dead? It makes no sense.”

  “What of the look in her eyes?” Alan sat forward. “Did she seem lost, desperate, scared?”

  “I don't know. Yes.” She shook her head. “No.” Then she flinched. “Maybe.”

  “’Twas fast and too much,” Rònan said, coming to her aid. “There was n
o making sense of any of it for even I, a dragon-shifter, never mind a lass from the future who only just came into all of this.”

  “Aye,” Niall agreed as he sat beside her. He obviously understood the glimmer of hope she was trying to give Alan. “’Tis something this, aye? Mayhap Brae struggles even as we do?”

  “Mayhap,” Iosbail murmured, eyes on the fire.

  Like they all did, Nicole heard the doubt in her voice and it pissed her off. Unlike everybody else who had to be thinking the same thing, she spoke up. “Don’t be so dour and evasive, Iosbail. Say what you’re thinking. Alan deserves as much.”

  The old woman’s eyes shot to hers. “Ye’ve a sharp tongue on ye, lass.”

  “Ye’ve no idea,” Niall and Rònan said at the same time, grinning at Nicole with pride.

  “Fine then,” Iosbail muttered, pacing in front of the fire, clearly pleased that her King looked at her with such unabashed admiration. “I’ll say it as I see it.” Her eyes went to Alan. “Though it pains me, dinnae get yer hopes up, my friend. Evil is verra good at what it does and will use trickery at every opportunity. Use yer good sense to come to a conclusion. Why did Brae leave behind ye and yer good wife to travel to the wee Bruce’s era? And how was it ye never knew yer bonnie son had become an angel to begin with?”

  “Congratulations, by the way,” Nicole said to Alan because she would be damned if Iosbail sunk his ship entirely. “It’s not too shabby that your son became an angel. He must’ve been a super good guy.”

  “Aye,” Alan said, welcoming her kind words. “He was a good lad, indeed.” But his eyes soon swung to Iosbail’s and Nicole saw that though he might be heartbroken, he was a leader and realist by nature. “I willnae get my hopes up unnecessarily, but I will pay close attention for I will always believe the best of my bairns. What would ye and yer King suggest I do next?”

  “Wait and keep yer eyes and heart open, m’Laird Stewart,” Alexander cut in, clearly seeing the benefit in keeping Alan’s spirits up. “’Tis always a good chance yer bairns might reach out to ye and yer wife. Mayhap even Cullen from the future. If either does, contact Fionn Mac Cumhail. Ye know how.”

  “Aye.” Alan nodded. “I do and I will.”

  “They’d be bloody fools to contact ye,” Iosbail said under her breath.

  “Good wife.” Alexander held out his hand. “Come sit with me and stop yer fretting, aye?”

  “I’ll not stop my fretting, husband,” she shot back.

  Nicole pressed her lips together, careful not to show amusement when the King moved fast, scooped up Iosbail and plunked back down. “Ye’ll sit with me if I say ye’ll sit with me.”

  Way to go older generation. Nicole smirked at Niall when his hand clamped over her thigh and he shook his head. But she couldn’t shut her mouth any more than Iosbail could. “I guess we Brouns have spunk in any century.”

  “Bloody hell right,” Iosbail muttered as she snuggled closer to Alexander. “’Tis good to see that didnae change.”

  Alexander nuzzled his face against the side of Iosbail’s neck. “I would hope not.”

  Apparently wanting to pursue where her husband was going, Iosbail waved them all away. “Off ye go. We’ve had enough talk for this eve. The morrow is another day.”

  To hell with evil swooping down and killing them all. Iosbail wanted to get laid.

  “Now that I’ve seen the darker side in a real bad way I’ve gotta ask,” Nicole said. “How safe are we here because—”

  “Yer protected by my brother and me, so safe enough.” Iosbail's eyes narrowed on Nicole. “Now get yer wee arse up to bed and leave me and mine be, aye?”

  Um, okay. Not. Nicole was about to bite back with her thoughts on Iosbail’s one-track mind, but Niall and Rònan pulled her after them. Niall had her hand and Rònan kept a hand on her lower back.

  When Nicole stopped short, Niall arched a pointed look at her. “I dinnae mind throwing ye over my shoulder again, lass.” He lowered his head slightly and gave Rònan a relenting look. “And if ye manage to bring me down with a pinch, my cousin will pick up where I left off.”

  Rònan winked when she glared at him. “Except a good pinch willnae bring this dragon down.”

  They meant it. Damn them. She looked at Alan. He was already heading in the opposite direction so there was no more helping him for now. Frustrated, she shoved past Niall but made sure he and Rònan heard her. “Asswipes.”

  “I thought she was working on her cursing,” Rònan said as she headed for the stairs.

  “Aye, but mayhap ‘tis easier to slip when the wee King isnae around.”

  “Even so, ‘twould be a good habit to overcome,” Rònan mentioned.

  “Shut your traps,” she said as she headed up the stairs.

  “Our traps?” Rònan said.

  “Our mouths.” But there was a smile in Niall’s voice as he grabbed Nicole’s hand only a few stairs up. “Come, lass. We want to show you something.”

  “We do?” Rònan said.

  “Aye, ye bloody pagan.” Niall nodded at the hall then the door. “I dinnae know where ye stand on religion, Nicole, but ‘tis the eve before a celebrated day in these parts.” He gestured at all the spruce and berries strewn about. “’Tis the day before Christmastide for the Sinclairs as they are for the most part Christians.”

  Nicole blinked and looked around. No way. “Are you telling me it’s Christmas Eve?”

  “Aye.” Niall smiled. “Is that good for you, lass?”

  Good for her? She had no idea. It was never a holiday that meant much because family didn’t exist. Until the last few years. And the only reason for that was because of her friends. They made Christmas fun.

  “Sure, it’s good,” she murmured and let him pull her after him and Rònan. “So what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” He smiled as he led her out the door. “Just snow.”

  Snow? While she found the heavy flakes cool enough especially considering she had never seen them fall outside a medieval castle, they were nothing new. “Sorry to break it to you guys but I grew up in Boston. Snow’s kinda common.”

  “Aye.” Niall said. “I know.”

  “I should leave ye two be,” Rònan said, though there was a hopeful look on his face.

  “Nay,” Niall said as they walked down the stairs. “’Tis a time meant for friends and ye are Nicole’s friend, aye?”

  “Aye,” Rònan agreed.

  Niall was like a kid as he pulled her around a corner at the bottom of the stairs, down a hallway and up another winding set of stairs. By the time they reached the top, the snow was falling harder but half the moon still shone over the distant ocean.

  Torches flickered and wind whipped as Niall pulled something from his pocket. “This somehow made it into the satchel attached to Vika. I suspect Cassie must have slipped it in at MacLomain Castle. Anyways, she wanted to make sure you were alone when you received it.” He glanced at Rònan. “But I thought ‘twould be best to give it to you with good friends around.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly. Nicole knew Cassie. If she wanted her to be alone there was a reason for it. But Niall looked too excited. So did Rònan.

  “’Tis something Cassie and your friends, Erin and Jaqueline saved a long time to purchase for you.” Niall pressed a small object into her hand. “Though I’m pagan, I know they would say, “Merry Christmas.””

  Nicole looked at them warily as Niall stepped back.

  Both he and Rònan looked so expectant.

  Opening her hand, she looked at the device. Heat born of strong emotion swamped her. It was the highest tech hearing aid on the market. Tears welled, but she blinked them away, embarrassed. Damn them. Her friends should not have done this. They were all struggling in one way or another and nobody had enough money. But that was not what bothered her most right now.

  No, it was that her upcoming disability had been laid bare.

  It was coming and there was no stopping it.

  Worse than that,
her friends weren’t here to give it to her.

  Instead, men that she had only just met. She might like them. A lot. Still. This was too uncomfortable.

  “Thanks,” she murmured and shoved it back into Niall’s hand. “But no thanks.”

  Nicole flew downstairs and made her way to their chamber, grateful neither man was on her tail. Mostly because she was crying and that irritated the living hell out of her.

  What were her friends thinking doing this for her? What was Niall thinking giving it to her with Rònan there? Better yet, why the heck did Cassie give it to Niall to begin with? She knew better. She knew how Nicole thought.

  Didn’t she?

  Angry, she wiped away tears, took a swig of whisky but cringed and set it aside. She didn't want alcohol. She just wanted escape. From this. Her past. Present. Possibly even her future. Just her feelings in general. All and all, she wanted to escape from the shitty cards she’d been dealt in life.

  Crawling onto the bed, she curled into a ball and got busy feeling sorry for herself. Something she had not done her entire life. She wasn’t a fan of people who cried ‘oh poor me’ and had sworn to never be one. But here, so far away from twenty-first century life and all the prying eyes, she let go.

  By the time she was done her eyes were swollen and she could barely breathe through her nose. Drowsy, she must have dosed because when she sniffled again, there was a warm body against her back. Nicole peeked over her shoulder. Of course, it was Niall. Fully clothed, body wrapped tightly around hers to the best of his ability, his eyes were wide open.

  “I’m not up for company,” she whispered, voice catching.

  “I’ve been here for hours.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not up for company.”

  “But mayhap I am,” he said softly and tightened his arm around her waist. “Mayhap I need to ken why ‘twas my Da who arrived here after us but stayed away. Why he didnae check on me once to see if I was well.”

  So he intended to ease into the conversation about her behavior by putting the spotlight on his issues first.

  Nicole swallowed, eyes holding his as she peered over her shoulder. What was she supposed to say? “Maybe Malcolm’s tired.”

 

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