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Highlander’s Curse

Page 13

by Melissa Mayhue


  “There’s only one thing to do.” Colin’s urgent whisper broke her line of thought. “Wish us out of here. Send me back to my own time.”

  Not again. Not here. Not now. She simply couldn’t take being cooped up in this dark little tomb with Colin flipping out again. “You are not going to start up on that Faerie Magic, time travel crap again. We’re in a lot of trouble here, Colin. Try to hold it together for me.”

  Because if he didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could.

  “Listen to me, Abby Porter. Dinna you say a single word until I’ve finished, do you hear? I ken the absurdity of what I say, but it’s the truth, every word of it. Yer a descendant of the Fae. You’ve the power of their Magic and you used it to bring me to yer side that morning in Denver. I dinna ken the reason why but that’s of no importance now. That man out there is a Nuadian Fae. He took yer blood to share in yer Magic. He willna give up and he willna go away until he finds us. We must leave this place, Abby. It’s the only way.”

  His last words rang in her mind, a duplicate of what he’d said to her in her dreams.

  Her body began to tremble uncontrollably and he tightened his arm around her, whispering into her ear.

  “You’ve the power, Abby. Wish us out of here.”

  “How the hell—”

  His large hand clamped over her mouth and he held her close. Only as she heard the footsteps directly outside did she realize he’d stopped her in time to keep her from giving away their hiding spot.

  “I know you’re close,” Jonathan’s voice called from somewhere outside. “I’ll find you. It’s only a matter of time, you know. Make it easy on yourselves and give up now.”

  Whoever had first said you weren’t really scared while something was actually happening, but only after it was over, should have his butt kicked seven ways to Sunday. Because whatever this mess was that she was in, it was happening right at this moment and Abby could confirm for a fact that she’d never been so frightened in her entire life.

  Crazy guy in here demanding she wish them out of trouble; crazy guy out there taking potshots at them with a gun.

  “How?” she whispered when Colin moved his hand.

  “Wish it. Concentrate on sending me back to my own time. Wish us safely in our homes and say the words aloud.”

  Insanity. But no more insane than sitting in a hole in the ground waiting to be murdered or eaten or crushed to death.

  “I wish we weren’t here.” Though the words were more truthful than any she’d ever said aloud, nothing happened.

  Not that she’d really expected it to.

  “No,” he breathed into her ear. “You must wish for the places where we are to be. For the places we need to be. We’ll concentrate together. See it in yer mind. See us there in yer mind.”

  How did he expect her to see a place she’d never been?

  She closed her eyes while he held her close, snuggling her forehead against his chin as she formed a picture of the two of them together in her mind’s eye. “I wish for us to be in a safe place. In whatever place you would most like us to be. I wish to be in your home, in your time.” There. That should make him happy.

  She tried to imagine the place she felt most safe, with walls firmly separating them and the maniac searching for them. Walls, hell, she wanted Jonathan in a whole different place from them.

  Try as she might, the only vision she could bring into focus was the one from her dreams, she and Colin in that huge bed, the room around them lit only by the dancing flames of a fireplace.

  A thought flickered through her mind, allowing her to wonder if, when Colin concentrated, he saw them as she did, naked, limbs entangled in the great bed from her dreams.

  “Wait.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “What words did you say?”

  She had no time to think about Colin’s question, as the ground around them began to shake. Her eyes flew open as he tightened his hold on her.

  “Oh, shit,” she breathed. This was it. The mountain really was coming down on them.

  Her view was mostly obscured by her position in Colin’s arms, but from what she could see, she’d almost swear they were being attacked by a swarm of bees. Fast-flying, multicolored bees dived all around them, sounding as if they pinged off the walls on every side of them.

  She waited, expecting to feel the sting of attack any moment. Instead, it suddenly felt as if the ground had given way beneath them, the sensation one of falling a great distance.

  Only the knowledge that Colin held her, his arms tightening around her yet again, gave her any measure of security as the black void closed in and reality slipped away.

  Either the mountain had given way or all this had, in fact, been no more than a bad dream after all.

  Nineteen

  Find her, find her, find her . . .

  The words echoed inside Flynn’s head, pounding at his mind even as the pain seared through his thigh in a hideous, utterly foreign sensation. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his old self, he recognized that it was the Bloodlust that had taken him. The Bloodlust that tinged his vision as though he viewed the world through a red prism.

  Even knowing, he was powerless against it. He had become the Bloodlust.

  He scrambled higher up the rocky hillside, his feet slipping on the loose gravel and twigs. A flash of white brushed his peripheral vision and he lifted his weapon, firing a shot blindly in that general direction.

  No! Too dangerous. Can’t risk killing her.

  All would be lost if that happened.

  Must find her. Reason with her. Convince her to come with him.

  “I know you’re close.” He called out in his desperation, hoping against hope they’d give their position away. “I’ll find you. It’s only a matter of time, you know. Make it easy on yourselves and give up now.”

  Not far now. He could all but feel her. Could almost feel her heart beating in time with his own.

  Must be systematic. Slow down.

  He retraced his steps, stopping where the path curved into the trees.

  Find her, find her, find her. . .

  No longer able to ignore the throbbing in his thigh, he dropped to his knees, struggling to breathe through the pain.

  It was then he saw it, dancing in the corner of his vision. A green light that seemed to glow from the misshapen branches to his right. Branches oddly growing from the rock face.

  He stuffed the gun into the pocket of his jacket before he reached out to clasp his hand around the rough bark, intending to pull himself to it for a closer inspection. But the wood gave way, revealing an opening in the rock.

  What had appeared as a mere glow through the branches burst from the opening in a shaft of brilliant emerald light, knocking him flat even as it bathed him in a flood of frenzied sparkles.

  From this vantage, he could see beyond the opening, into the interior of the shallow cave. There, in the very heart of the light, the woman he sought, cradled in the interloper’s arms!

  He would have called out, would have dragged himself forward to claim what was rightfully his, but the world turned upside down and sucked him soundlessly into a vast, black void.

  Twenty

  Colin awoke in the dark, aware only that he was no longer in the cave. The Magic had worked, and though he sensed no immediate danger, where the Magic had taken him—or when—he had no idea.

  Where or when it had taken them.

  Abby lay in his arms, her legs entangled with his. Warm, soft, and invitingly naked, her skin caressed his, seriously impairing his ability to concentrate on their surroundings.

  When her hand slid up his chest to his face, tenderly guiding his mouth down to meet hers, what little sense he had deserted him completely. He ran his tongue across her lower lip before dipping inside. Just as he remembered, she tasted sweet, like a marvelous mix of mint and honey.

  She anchored her hand behind his neck and pressed her body against his. He tightened his arms around her, deepening the kiss, losing himself in
the moment. She moaned against him, a soft mewling, needy sound that drove him wild with desire.

  Rolling her to her back, he fit himself into the warm cradle between her legs, eliciting another of those little noises as she locked her ankles behind his back. He rocked against her once, twice, his need growing until he thought he might burst.

  She met each of his moves with one of her own, and on the third he found his mark, inching slowly inside her tight heat.

  Like coming home to a place created just for him, in this moment, he feared he’d never find its equal again in this life.

  Her hips lifted, grinding against his pelvis, and he dropped his hands to those lovely hips, holding them still while he prayed he could last long enough to satisfy them both.

  Slowly, very slowly, he eased himself almost all the way out before slowly sliding back in again.

  By the Fates! Swiving had never felt like this before.

  “Yes. Oh yes,” Abby breathed the words into his ear, urging him on with the movement of her hips against his. “Yes. . . No!” Her hands swept from his neck to his chest, pushing against him. “Oh my God! This is real. It’s not the dream at all. This is actually happening. You have to stop. You have to stop this right now!”

  Stop? What was this stop she spoke of?

  His mind blanked and his entire body shuddered as he ceased all motion, still buried just inside her warm sheath.

  “We can’t do this. We cannot be doing this! Get off me!”

  Abby wiggled beneath him and he tightened his grip on her hips, pinning her to the bed below him. Much more of that from her and it would be too late to stop.

  “Be still, woman,” he ordered, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “I’ll do as you ask, but dinna you move again. Give me but a moment to collect myself.”

  He rested his head against her breast, fighting to regain command of himself as he listened to her heart beat a furious tattoo under his ear. At last, his control somewhat returned, he withdrew, rolling off her and onto his back. Eyes closed, he concentrated on an intricate series of sword work patterns he’d learned in Wyddecol and the footwork involved in each thrust and parry.

  Thrust. He groaned and tried once again to clear his mind.

  “I know this place.” Abby’s voice came from just above him in a breathless whisper. “I’ve seen it a hundred times in my dreams. Where are we? How did we get here?”

  When he opened his eyes, a dull gray light filtered through the room, emanating from the early morning sun shining through a crack in the wooden shutters high up on the wall. He knew the place as well.

  “This is my own bedchamber.”

  As soon as he could move again, he’d have to deal with all this. Dun Ard was not where the Magic was supposed to take them, though why he should have expected the Magic to do as he wanted this time was beyond him. His intent had been that she should be sent to the safety of her own home even as he should have found himself in the woods near Methven. He had certainly not planned on bringing Abby back through time with him, no more than he’d planned on bedding her.

  So much for his plans.

  He’d feared there could be a problem when he’d realized the words she’d said aloud, but by then, it was too late. The Magic had already been invoked.

  “You’ve sent us to my home, Abby. To Dun Ard.”

  “As if. Don’t you even try that line on me. I know for a fact that Dun Ard is not your home. I was there. I went there looking for you. Those people had never even heard of you.” Abby sat next to him, her face determinedly turned away from him, a woolen coverlet pulled up to her chin. “How did we get here?” she demanded again, twitching nervously at the cover. “And what the hell did you do with my clothes?”

  “What did I do?” He pushed himself up to sit, shaking his head at how wrong everything had gone. “It’s as I told you. It’s you what did the wishing, lass. You who said the words to send us here. I should be asking what you did with my clothes. Again.”

  It was her words that had directed the Magic to put them here, together, so very far from where they both needed to be, but the fault was all his. He should have realized the danger and told her exactly what to say.

  Rising from the bed, he made his way to the fireplace and squatted beside it. The fire had been laid at the ready as it always was. All he had to do was strike the tender and start the flames to bring some warmth to the chamber.

  “Right. Like you expect me to believe I could simply wish us out of that cave? That’s about as truthful as Dun Ard being your home.”

  Flames licked up over the wood and he rose to his feet, facing the bed.

  “First, if you canna accept that it’s yer wishing that sent us here, then how do you explain it? And, for the record, Dun Ard is my home. Here. Now. In 1306, no in yer time.” Assuming the blasted Magic had at least transported them to the proper time. He resented her implication that he’d lied about his home, though as he thought about it, he did find some satisfaction in the idea that she’d gone there in her own time searching for him. “You looked for me there, did you?”

  “Wait. Let’s just back this up for a second. Did you say 1306? That’s crazy. It’s not possible.” She turned to face him, immediately dropping her eyes to her lap. “Could you please put something on? I can’t think with that,” she waved her hand in his general direction, “when it’s like that.”

  He looked down to where she’d pointed and frowned. His swollen manhood was only now beginning to return to normal.

  She waited in silence as he strode to the chest at the foot of his bed and pulled out first a shirt and then a plaid, which he deftly wound around himself.

  “Better?”

  Abby nodded, her eyes glassy when she looked up. “What’s happening here, Colin?”

  “It’s as I told you. You’ve the blood of the Fae in you and the power of their Magic at yer disposal. You saved us from that filthy Nuadian by sending us here.”

  Though he could have spent the rest of his day simply watching her, he had to get moving. If the Fae had sent them to the wrong location, there was no telling what date they’d chosen. He could only pray he wasn’t too late to save his friends.

  For now, he needed to find his cousin Blane, the MacKiernan laird, and his brother Caden to tell them both what had happened. He also needed to find someone to help ease Abby into life here until they could figure out how to send her home.

  His stomach knotted at the thought of her leaving but he pushed the foolish emotion from his mind and walked to the door. Of course she had to leave. She should never have been here to begin with.

  “What do you think you’re doing now? You’re going to leave me here? Alone?”

  She’d risen from the bed when he turned, the coverlet clutched to her breasts. The look of desperation on her lovely face drew him back to her side.

  He enfolded her in his embrace and she leaned into him. “Don’t leave me here, Colin. I don’t think I can wrap my head around this. I’m scared.”

  With a kiss to her forehead, he pushed her away. “I’ll only be downstairs, Abby. You’ve no a need to fash yerself. Yer safe here. Climb back into bed and I’ll send my mother with clothing for you.”

  “You’ll send your mother? Oh, Lord, Colin. Your mother’s going to come in here and find me bare-ass naked in your bed? That’s just perfect. Thank you so much for making things all better for me.”

  A twinge of guilt held him in place. A guilt that forced him to confront what they had done earlier, a task made all the more difficult by his own confusion.

  “About what passed between us, Abby. I’m sorry for . . .” He paused, suddenly unsure of exactly what he wanted to say. It would be a lie to say he was sorry it had happened. He wasn’t. If anything, he was sorry they hadn’t finished what they’d started.

  She saved him from having to finish. “Forget it. It was as much my fault as yours. I’m sorry it all went so badly and left you, you know, so uncomfortable and all.”
/>   Yes, for that he could honestly say he was sorry as well.

  Again he kissed her forehead and turned away, saying at last what was really in his thoughts. “Perhaps next time will go more smoothly, aye?”

  Her strangled “Next time?” brought a smile to his lips as he closed the door behind him.

  Twenty-one

  Colin did not enjoy being made to feel as if he were but a bairn again, called up in front of his mother and the laird to answer for some new misdeed.

  “So you drag the lass seven hundred years into her past and then you abandon her? You leave her sitting on yer bed all by herself. And naked at that, if I’m no mistaken, aye?” Caden shook his head and exchanged a look with their laird and cousin, Blane MacKiernan, as if he couldn’t believe his younger brother’s stupidity. “What were you thinking, Col? Have you no good sense about women at all?”

  “It was she who did the dragging,” Colin muttered in his own defense.

  In hindsight, perhaps he should have waited for a private moment with his mother to mention Abby’s need for clothing rather than to have asked within Caden’s hearing. His prudish older brother would be hammering away at this one for quite some time, he had no doubt.

  “And as to what I was thinking, my mind was set upon ending up at the camp in Methven in time to see to the safety of Dair and Simeon. I’d no intended to bring Abby here.”

  “Then I suppose we should be thanking the Fates the lass dinna end up unclothed in the middle of our king’s army encampment.” The lady Rosalyn spoke wearing her best no-nonsense expression.

  “I’d intended that the Magic send her to her own home, in her own time.”

  His mother opened her mouth as if to speak, but held back, her mouth drawn into a tight, disapproving line. He suspected she had quite a bit more she wanted to say, but she yielded to Blane with a stiff nod of her head.

 

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