by Lynsay Sands
"Here," she whispered, sliding two or three of the large stones toward Alpin.
"Ye've made a hole," Alpin said with hushed excitement.
"How big is it?" she asked worriedly and tried to feel for herself to see. "Could ye get through it?"
"Nay," Alpin said, then peered up from where he lay with a frown. "I'd no' leave ye here alone anyway."
"Ye could go bring back help," she pointed out, though the truth was she'd rather he went and hid somewhere than risk getting caught trying to escape.
"Aye!" Connor snapped suddenly, drawing her attention back to the two men again. "Or mayhap I'll just kill ye and take me chances that ye've hidden it so well no one would ever find it anyway." When Montrose merely stared at him wide-eyed, apparently at a loss for how to respond to that, Connor stood abruptly and started toward the back of the barn, pulling his sword from his waist as he snarled, "I grow tired of this. Surely they've given up the search by now. 'Tis time we take care of these two."
"Nay!" Montrose rushed to follow. "You said you just wanted to convince her to back up the will. I will not be a party to murder."
Connor paused and gave a barking laugh as he turned to face Montrose. "Ye will no' be a party to a murder," he assured him, and then added, "Ye'll be a party to several."
Montrose sagged unhappily. "Ye did kill Beathan."
"Me uncle?" he asked on a laugh. "Of course I did. Did ye think I'd have ye switch the will and risk his discovering it?" He let that sink in and then added, "I killed his sons too."
"Ye killed Colin and Peter?" Murine cried in shock, her hand closing around one of the stones behind her.
Connor turned to sneer at her. "Aye. Although, I suppose taking credit for that is not right since I merely hired mercenaries and bandits to do the actual killing." Scowling he added. "Ye were supposed to die too, leaving Uncle Beatie heirless, but they bungled the job. I killed them for that though, and to keep their mouths from ever flapping." Glaring at Montrose, he continued, "I should ha'e gone ahead and killed ye meself like I planned, but then Monti came to me with that damned idea of his. Switch the will, he says. He'd get control o' ye and yer dower estates and I'd get everything else."
Murine turned a hard gaze on Montrose at this news. The way he avoided her eyes told her Connor was telling the true version of events.
"So I thought, what the hell. That works nicely too. But then I go to switch out the wills and the original is gone. He'd taken it of course, to blackmail me from now till judgment day, the bastard."
Montrose shrugged. "I just wanted to ensure--"
"What about the fire at the Buchanan hunting lodge?" Murine interrupted grimly, not caring one whit what her brother wanted.
"Aye. That was me," Connor admitted without shame. "Killing ye seems the best way to deal with MacIntyre wanting to see the will."
Murine's mouth tightened. "And the arrow--"
"Aye," he interrupted, and then added, "And I hit ye in the head when ye slipped away from camp on yer way to Buchanan. I'd ha'e stabbed ye in the chest then but the Buchanans came rushing out and I had to flee." He scowled at her with displeasure. "Ye've been damned hard to kill, Muri."
"Don't call me that," Murine said sharply, not liking him using the nickname her friends and family had always used.
"Why not?" he snapped. "Everyone at Carmichael does. It's always Muri this and Muri that. Oh how we miss our Muri," he said bitterly. "I am sick unto death of hearing it." Turning sharply he thrust his sword into Montrose. As Monti stared blankly down at the blade that disappeared into his chest, he added, "And I am sick to death of you using that damned will to bleed me dry."
The minute the last word left his lips, Connor withdrew the sword and then watched dispassionately as Montrose wavered briefly, then dropped to his knees before falling facefirst onto the dirt floor.
Caught by surprise, Murine simply gaped down at her half brother and would have been skewered next on Connor's sword if Alpin hadn't suddenly lunged up from where he lay and pushed her to the side. Knocked out of her shock, Murine glanced around wildly as she fell, relieved when she saw that Alpin had managed to avoid the blade even as he saved her. She also saw that Connor was now raising his sword, intending to bring it down on them.
As she hit the ground, Murine recalled the stone she held and immediately rolled onto her back to hurl it at Connor. The melon-sized stone hit him in the forehead and Connor bellowed with pain and rage as he stumbled back a step. But he recovered quickly and stepped forward, raising his sword again and then froze as the tip of a blade suddenly pushed out of his chest.
Blinking, Murine leaned to the side to peer around Connor, and saw Dougall standing behind the man, his sword buried in Connor's back.
"Ye're not m'laird," Alpin said with disappointment and Murine glanced around to see that he'd crawled over beside her to look around Connor and see who had saved them.
"Nay," she said on a relieved laugh. "This is me husband, Dougall."
"Oh, I guess that's all right then," the lad muttered, blushing when she slid an arm around his shoulders and hugged him to her chest.
Murine smiled, then glanced around with a start as Connor crashed to the ground in front of them. Dougall had withdrawn his blade, she saw as he set it aside and moved quickly to drop to one knee in front of her.
"Are ye all right, love?" he asked, his hands sliding over her in search of injuries.
"Aye," she whispered, then glanced to the boy beside her and added, "But Alpin is in a bad way. He needs Rory."
Dougall nodded and immediately turned his attention to the boy. A frown claimed his expression as he looked him over, and then he scooped him up and stood.
"Do ye have a horse?" Murine asked worriedly as she followed him the length of the barn. "I can walk if ye ha'e only the one. Alpin needs--"
"'Tis all right. I came on foot, but the others were arriving when I rushed in here," Dougall said soothingly.
"The others?" Murine asked and then followed him outside and stopped dead, her jaw dropping open. The sun was setting on the horizon, half hidden by the hills, but there was still more than enough light to see that the field was awash with men on horseback. Murine could even make out the four banners snapping in the early evening breeze.
"I gather we're a little late," Greer said dryly, dismounting and moving quickly toward them.
"That's all right, m'laird. Lady Murine's husband saved us," Alpin said as Greer took him from Dougall.
"Did he now?" Greer asked gruffly, his concern obvious as he took in the boy's various injuries.
"Only after Alpin saved me wife," Dougall said solemnly. "Thank ye fer that, lad."
Alpin shook his head and said miserably, "She would no' ha'e been there at all if no' fer me." Turning an earnest face to Greer, he added, "I tried no' to tell him how to get into the passage, m'laird. I swear I tried ever so hard, but--"
"Hush," Greer growled, carrying him back to his mount. "Ye did well, better than well. We need to get ye back to Saidh now. She's been fretting something awful."
Dougall slipped his arm around Murine and they watched as Greer passed Alpin to his first, Bowie, so he could mount his horse. Once in the saddle, he quickly took the boy back, arranged him carefully in his lap and then broke from the group and rode back toward the castle with several of his men following.
"Danvries and Connor's bodies are inside," Dougall announced as he urged Murine toward where Aulay, MacIntyre and Sinclair were now dismounting.
"I'll have some men collect them," Aulay assured him.
"So, they were in on it together after all," MacIntyre said dryly, and shook his head. Glancing to Murine he asked, "And the will?"
"Fake," she admitted on a sigh. "Montrose kept the original though. I imagine it's somewhere at Danvries."
The old man nodded. "I'll take me men and ride there first thing on the morrow to fetch it. But I ken what it'll say. Beatie would have left everything to you, lass."
Murine mer
ely shrugged unhappily and then blurted, "Connor killed Father, and hired the men who killed Peter and Colin."
MacIntyre closed his eyes and sighed wearily, then shook his head before opening his eyes again. Expression solemn, he said, "Don't let that taint Carmichael fer ye, lass. Remember the good times ye had there, and think on the people there who need ye. Connor was a ruthless bastard, I doubt he showed the clan much care."
Swallowing, Murine nodded and then glanced to Dougall when he touched her shoulder. Alick had brought his mount and Dougall was already on him. Now he leaned down and lifted her up in front of him.
Once she was settled sideways in his lap, Murine glanced back to MacIntyre. "Are ye coming up to the castle?"
"Aye. I'll visit fer a wee bit ere I head back to camp," he said with a smile.
Murine nodded, then glanced to Campbell Sinclair and smiled before asking hopefully, "Is Jo here too?"
"Are ye jesting? I could no' keep her away," he said with a smile. "She's up at the castle showing off little Bearnard. She'll be happy to see ye well and safe."
Murine nodded, then leaned back into Dougall with a sigh as he turned his horse to follow the path Greer had taken back to the castle.
They rode swiftly out of the clearing, but once they'd left the field and the men behind, Dougall suddenly slowed his mount to a standstill. Surprised, Murine straightened and turned to peer at him in question, but he didn't look down at her. Instead he stared over her head at the road ahead as he asked, "Do ye want an annulment?"
"What?" she asked with shock.
Sighing, Dougall finally looked at her and said, "Ye only married me for protection from yer brother. But now ye're safe, and ye're no' longer a dowerless lass. In fact ye're rich. Ye've Carmichael and probably Danvries too, and could marry anyone ye like. If ye want an anul--"
"Nay," she interrupted sharply, and then frowned as confusion filled her mind. "Do ye want to annul our marriage? Is that why ye asked? Ye only married me to save me. Do ye want--"
"Nay," he assured her solemnly, then raised one hand to clasp her cheek and said, "I love ye, Murine."
"Really?" she asked with a smile.
"Aye," he said solemnly. "Ye're reckless and too brave fer yer own good, and 'twill probably take all the coin I would ha'e spent on building a castle to keep ye in gowns, but I love ye."
She laughed at his words, then hugged him tightly and whispered, "I love ye too, husband."
Dougall remained still for a moment, and then pulled back and raised his eyebrows. "That's it?' I love ye too, husband' is all ye have to say?"
Murine hesitated, concern filling her that she'd done something wrong. Perhaps she should say why she loved him, or when she'd realized it. Her worries faded away, however, when she noted the teasing glint in his eyes.
Schooling her expression, she offered, "I love ye too, husband, and I am no' wearing braies under me gown today."
When his eyes widened incredulously, she tilted her head and asked, "Will that do?"
"That'll do, love," he growled and urged his mount to start moving again as he bent to kiss her.
An Excerpt from Immortal Unchained
Want more Lynsay Sands?
Keep reading for an excerpt
from her next Argenau family novel,
IMMORTAL UNCHAINED
Coming April 2017 from Avon Books
Prologue
"I begin to think they are going to be late," Domitian murmured, hefting his duffel bag higher on his shoulder so that the microphone hidden in his sleeve would catch his words.
"Perhaps it is a sign." Lucian Argeneau's voice was surprisingly clear. The earpiece they'd given Domitian was so small that it was unseen once inserted, but the sound came through loud and crystal clear. "We should scrap this now and--"
"Still trying to talk me out of going, Uncle?" Domitian asked with amusement, and then suddenly impatient, added, "I do not know why you are so resistant to my doing this. Especially with Uncle Victor, Lucern, Decker, Nicholas, Aunt Eshe, Mirabeau LaRoche and Santo Notte now among the missing. I would think with all of them having been taken--"
"That is precisely why," Lucian interrupted him in a growl. "This is dangerous. We have already lost several hunters, people armed and trained to handle situations like this. You, Domitian, are going in there unarmed, and you are not a hunter."
"True, but I was a warrior once. I can handle myself," Domitian argued. "Besides, none of your hunters were invited, I was."
"Yes, but was it because you are a chef and Dressler wants you to work for him? Or because you are an immortal who he wants to add to his collection?"
"I told you. He does not know I am an immortal," Domitian said slowly and firmly, stressing each word. They'd had this conversation several times already, but it seemed they would have it again. "If Dressler knew, he could have taken me at any time. He has been a regular in my restaurant for five years. He obviously does not know."
"Or perhaps he did not wish to kidnap an immortal so close to home," Lucian countered. "It might have led us straight here to Venezuela."
Domitian shifted impatiently at the suggestion. "One immortal missing in Caracas would hardly have brought you here when so many have gone missing in the United States."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps we would have--"
"Is that helicopter headed this way?" Domitian interrupted, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he watched the vehicle approach. It was flying low and seemed to be headed straight for where he stood at the base of the large dock . . . which was where he'd been directed to wait for his ride. He'd expected a boat, but--
"Are those pontoons?" Lucian asked sharply in his ear.
Domitian knew that Lucian and the others wouldn't have as good a view from the small boat where they waited further along the docks. Aside from that, they were staying out of sight in the small cabin in the bow, which had only tiny windows that were glazed and screened. Their view would be highly obscured compared to his.
"Yes. The helicopter has pontoons," he confirmed, his gaze on the skids with the floatation devices affixed to them. It was fitted out to be an amphibious helicopter so that it could set down on water or land, which made Domitian suspect that this was his ride. Apparently he wasn't the only one to think that, he realized, wincing as a loud curse sounded in his ear.
"You are not to get on that helicopter!" Lucian ordered firmly. "Make an excuse. Tell them you have changed your mind. We did not plan for this. The boats out in the bay might lose the helicopter. Do you hear me?"
His thoughts racing, Domitian watched the helicopter slow and begin to drop by the end of the dock. To get onboard or not was the question. If he said he had a fear of flying, Dressler might send a boat for him and then Lucian's men could follow from a safe distance to find the island. Then again, he might not. Dressler might suspect something was afoot and simply cancel the job offer altogether . . . and Domitian couldn't risk that. He had to get on that island. His life mate was there and could be in danger.
"Domitian? Can you hear me?" Lucian barked sharply, and then his voice faded as he asked someone else, "Is this thing working? Why is he not answering?"
"Perhaps the noise from the helicopter is drowning you out," another voice responded. Domitian was pretty sure that voice belonged to the young hunter, Justin Bricker and was grateful for the suggestion. He would pretend it was true and he couldn't hear his uncle. He was getting on that helicopter. He might be risking his life doing it, but not getting on risked his chance of any kind of a happy future.
"Dammit! Domitian! Do not get on that helicopter! Domitian?"
Ignoring the voice in his ear, Domitian watched the helicopter set down, not on the water, but on the end of the dock. He then started forward.
"Domitian Argeneau!" Lucian's voice roared in his ear.
"It's Argenis, Uncle. Not Argeneau," Domitian reminded him gently before unobtrusively plucking the earpiece from his ear and tucking it into the front pocket of his tight
jeans. It didn't matter what anyone said. He was going, Domitian thought as he watched the back, side door of the helicopter open.
Instinctively ducking, he rushed quickly under the rotors to the entrance. A man in a suit was waiting with his hand out to take his duffle bag. Domitian handed it over with a nod of thanks, and then grasped the doorframe and climbed in. The window seat was the only one available, so he settled into it and pulled the door closed without having to be told.
Domitian then started to turn to get a better look at the other men in the helicopter, but stiffened in surprise as he felt a sudden sharp pain in the side of his neck. He lost consciousness almost at once.
About the Author
LYNSAY SANDS is the nationally bestselling author of the Argeneau/Rogue Hunter vampire series, as well as numerous historicals and anthologies.
She's been writing since grade school and considers herself incredibly lucky to be able to make a career out of it. Her hope is that readers can get away from their everyday stress through her stories, and if there are occasional uncontrollable fits of laughter, that's just a big bonus.
Please visit her official website at www.lynsaysands.net.
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By Lynsay Sands
Falling for the Highlander
The Highlander Takes a Bride
To Marry a Scottish Laird
An English Bride in Scotland
The Husband Hunt
The Heiress
The Countess
The Hellion and the Highlander
Taming the Highland Bride
Devil of the Highlands
Immortal Nights
Runaway Vampire
About a Vampire
The Immortal Who Loved Me