Highland Guardian

by Melissa Mayhue

  Ian scrambled to push the man off of him, desperate to get to Sarah, knowing she was in danger.

  Reynard’s screams continued. By the time Ian freed himself and was on his knees, the red glow surrounded both Sarah and Reynard, flames engulfing her hands on his chest. The Fae pushed at her, unable to move her hands away from him, unable to escape the glowing sphere.

  Nicole lifted the gun, aiming once again at Sarah. Ian sprang to his feet, sprinting for the woman.

  Another shot rang out in the clearing as Ian’s body slammed into Nicole’s, knocking her to the ground.

  The red haze evaporated as Sarah crumpled.

  “No,” he roared as he tore the gun from the limp hand of the woman he’d tackled and raced to Sarah’s side.

  Such a tiny hole in her chest, but the blood pooled beneath her as he cradled her body to him. Just like the dream.

  “Sarah, luv, can you hear me?” This couldn’t happen.

  Dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks. Just like the dream.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Ian,” she whispered. “But it’s all right. I couldn’t allow him to harm you. It was my choice to take the risk.” Her words echoed from the dream.

  “No, Sarah, you canna do this to me.” He clutched her body to him, rocking back and forth. Minutes. He only had minutes left to do something, anything. He wouldn’t lose her. Not this way. He had to change it all somehow.

  “What about the Fountain?”

  Ian looked up with a start. He’d forgotten completely about Ramos.

  The man held his shoulder, blood running down his arm. “Snap out of it, McCullough. Are you going to let her die?”

  The Fountain. If he could get her there in time, bathing her wound in the Fountain of Souls just might save her life. But there would be a cost. Once he made the decision to do this, there would be no chance of redemption for him. The Fae would never allow him to remain a Guardian once he’d violated the Fountain for purely selfish purposes.

  There was no choice. He knew what he needed to do.

  Rising, he scooped up her limp body and started for the Portal.

  “I’ll take care of things here.” Ramos pointed toward Nicole, still unconscious on the ground.

  Reynard was gone.

  “Thanks.” Ian hesitated at the Portal. That didn’t seem enough to say to the man he’d thought his enemy, the man who’d taken a bullet for him.

  “Go.”

  Without a backward glance, Ian carried Sarah through the doorway.

  * * *

  “You’ve chosen wisely, my son.”

  The words drifted to Sarah as she fought to open her eyes, the struggle almost too much for her. But the lilting tenor and the strength of the voice enticed her, whetting her curiosity, compelling her to see the man who spoke.

  “Now you understand the importance of your Soulmate, of preserving her life at any cost. You made the right choice, Ian. I’m proud of you. Your mother and I both are.”

  “Thank you, Father.” Ian’s voice.

  Blinking took so much effort, but what she saw infused her with the energy she needed to stay awake.

  She lay on the ground held fast in Ian’s arms, cradled against his chest. Turning her head slightly brought him into focus, a view of his neck and chin as he looked up, away from her. Whiskers dark against his skin drew her attention, and she lifted her hand, trailing a finger over the rough chin she’d never expected to touch again.

  “Sarah.”

  Only one word, but his tone conveyed a wealth of meaning to her. His hand covered hers, clasping it to his chest, where his heart pounded under her touch. His attention focused solely on her. She gazed into his eyes, the mysterious black pools that fascinated her so, and thought for a moment she saw a man there, beckoning to her. Lifting her free hand, she brushed her fingers first against the damp curls at his neck and then down the trail of moisture on his face.

  “I thought I’d lost you.” His voice broke.

  “No. You found me. You came back and saved me.”

  He gathered her to him, hugging her tightly. “I’ll never leave you again. I swear it.”

  She looked past his shoulder at a magnificent stone fountain, flowing with iridescent colors and movement, as if it were alive with energy. The forms of two people hovered there, shimmering as the color swirled around and through them. She had to concentrate to be sure she really saw them, but they were there, a tall man with long blond hair and a dark woman with Ian’s eyes, tucked protectively under his arm. They turned toward one another and embraced. Light glinted off the man’s armor, causing Sarah to blink, and they were gone.

  Ian stood, lifting her easily. He kissed her lips and smiled. “Let’s go home, luv. Picture it in yer mind.”

  She did, only a little surprised when the picture that formed wasn’t of her house in Denver at all, but was instead that of Heather Cottage.

  Twenty-five

  The kiss lingered on her lips. She could taste it, feel it there. Sarah lightly ran her finger over the spot, half expecting to find a physical manifestation of the kiss. It had been that powerful.

  Of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of kisses Ian had showered on her in the weeks since their return from the Faerie Realm, Sarah held this one as the best.

  The one Ian had shared with her just after the minister said the words “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  She watched him across the garden, his head thrown back in laughter at something Daniel had said. He looked so carefree, so young. Laughter threatened at the memory of his trying to explain his real age. To think she’d worried about being too old for him. He had been absolutely correct. Age was just a number.

  Ian caught her watching and winked, his sparkling black eyes telegraphing feelings of love strong enough to make her toes tingle with the promise they held. The feelings of desire he layered on top made the rest of her tingle, and the laughter she’d held back bubbled out.

  They could do that now, since the Fountain, communicate feelings wordlessly to one another. She didn’t need to touch him or even be in sight of him for it to work. In fact, she no longer needed to touch anyone to discern their feelings. She had only to open herself up, to want to know. The most pleasant side effect was that she now had the ability to close herself off as well. Touch no longer triggered feeling overload. It was very freeing.

  “A pennant for your thoughts, my dear.”

  Sarah smiled at the striking Fae couple who approached her.

  “Penny, Dallyn, not pennant,” Darnee corrected. “If you’re going to attempt their slang, you must pay more attention.”

  He shrugged and grinned at the woman, flipping his hair back over his shoulder before favoring her with a look hot enough to melt concrete.

  Darnee seemed completely unaffected. Then again, Sarah hadn’t seen the woman affected by much of anything in the short time she’d known her.

  “Thank you again, Dallyn.” Sarah reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “For everything.”

  Ian had explained to her how he had expected to run into resistance when he had taken her to the Fountain, and how odd it was that they encountered no Fae, not even the omnipresent Fountain guards, during their time in the Realm of Faerie. He could think of only one explanation for the ease of their visit. Dallyn.

  “No need to thank me. It was my great honor.” The Fae lifted her hand, lightly brushing it to his lips.

  Dallyn had given her away in the wedding ceremony. He’d said it only seemed right, as the eldest Fae present, that he should be the one to do so, given her heritage. Sarah had agreed.

  Darnee placed a graceful hand on Sarah’s stomach and looked up. “You’re wrong, Dallyn. I’m sure this is a boy.”

  The Fae laughed, placing his hand on top of hers. “Must you always contradict whatever I say, woman, regardless of what you truly believe?”

  “Merely keeping you on your toes, General.”

  “How did you know?” Sarah sputtered
. She’d only told Ian last night, only confirmed it yesterday afternoon. Apparently another side effect of her dousing in the Fountain.

  Another careless shrug, accompanied by a knowing grin. “There are many things I know, child. Speaking of which, didn’t you tell me you would have some of that wonderful Faerie chocolate here today?”

  Sarah laughed at the waggle of his brow as she directed him to the table with the goodies he sought. He took Darnee’s hand, pulling her along, promising her a taste treat fit for the Earth Mother herself.

  The laugh settled into a contented smile as Sarah looked around at all the people who had joined them to celebrate this special day. Now that her Great Adventure, as she thought of it, was over, these people who had been a part of the experience had all come to mean so much to her.

  The smile died on Sarah’s lips as she caught sight of Ramos. He kept himself apart from the merriment of the wedding reception, leaning against a tree at the far edge of the garden.

  Ramos had made the “problem” of the Tanners disappear, taking them away from Thistle Down before they’d recovered, convincing them they’d been the victims of a horrible auto accident. They had no memory of anything else. It had all been handled so smoothly, Sarah suspected that Ramos might have been able to explain how a compulsion worked from firsthand knowledge. Knowledge of placing one that is, not being under one.

  He nodded when he caught her looking in his direction, and smiled. She didn’t need to see through the dark glasses covering his eyes to know the smile never made it that far. Still handsome with that air of danger clinging to him, he seemed almost unapproachable now. His sorrow and guilt were so strong she couldn’t bear to do more than lightly touch at the edges of his emotions. It didn’t take a Sensor to feel the pain radiating off that man.

  “No frowning allowed on yer wedding day, Mrs. McCullough.”

  Ian was behind her, his arms around her, pulling her up against him, where she fit like the last piece of a puzzle. She felt warm and safe as she snuggled back against him. Fulfilled, complete. Whole.

  His gaze followed the path hers had taken. “He’s got to work through this on his own, luv. You canna fix it for him.”

  “I know.”

  She did know. Intellectually. But that didn’t mean she would give up on trying to help the man. Because emotion was a different animal all together. He’d been the one to try to help her when she’d needed it.

  She smiled to herself as she hit upon an idea. Tomorrow she’d give her new friend, Cate MacKiernan, a call. The woman was a wealth of information. Perhaps together they could think of something.

  “Do I sense a plot forming behind that lovely smile?” Ian bent near her ear, lingering to place a kiss in the spot that drove her wild.

  She was saved having to answer by Will’s approach. Her ring bearer, tuxedo jacket missing, little tie askew, raced in her direction, calling her name. He skidded to a stop, throwing his arms around her, his head resting against her middle.

  “There you are. I wondered when I’d find you.” He patted her stomach and then grinned up at her. “Hi, Sarah. Ian.”

  “We’ve been right here.”

  “Not you. Her. In there.” He tapped on Sarah’s stomach.

  “How do you know about…it?” Ian stuttered over the last, as if he couldn’t quite commit himself to the fact that Will knew about the baby.

  “Duh.” Will rolled his eyes. “I feel her. Besides, I’ve been waiting for her for a long time. Her name is…” He paused and grinned. “Nah, I’ll let you wait and find out when they get here. See ya.” He called the last over his shoulder as he ran back across the yard.

  “They?” Sarah squeaked.

  “They. Probably means nothing. He’s only six. Slip of the tongue.” Ian tightened his hug for a moment, his eyes following the retreating form of the little boy. “Still. We’d best have the doctor check closely when we go see him.” He kissed her again.

  They.

  She turned in Ian’s arms to properly kiss him back.

  She’d been wrong. Her Great Adventure wasn’t over.

  It was just beginning.

  Epilogue

  Dallyn rolled the small golden fruit between his fingers before tossing it into the air. He caught it between his teeth, a look of sublime satisfaction on his face. Leaning back in the oversized chair, he propped his feet on the heavy wooden table, reaching for another fruit.

  “You spend too much time playing with your food.” Darnee leaned against the wall, watching his performance.

  “I don’t play with it. I enjoy it. Savor it.” He tossed and caught the fruit as he had before, popping it between his teeth, allowing the juices to spread through his mouth. “I learned that from the Mortals.” He grinned.

  “How can you be so cavalier after what we just sat through?” Darnee paced along the opposite side of the table.

  “I beg your pardon. I am rarely cavalier. And never without good reason. There is no point to be made in allowing the Council meeting to distress you. We have no control over them. Lest you forget, we report to them.” As always, she needed to relax. Telling her so, however, was likely to get his ears boxed.

  “I feel certain there are those on the Council who could aid us if only they were not all so busy jockeying for their own position. We face a crisis, yet none of them will come forward to help. They tie our hands and then sit and look to us to find their salvation. Everything we have worked for is coming to an end.” She flopped into the chair across from him, propping her boot-clad legs on the table, the mirror image of his own position.

  He took a moment to admire those long legs while deciding how to answer. Darnee really was a beautiful woman. She was also much too impatient. Much too bound by the rules. And quite lethal. Not a good combination. Unfortunately she was also too much like a sister to him to evoke feelings other than platonic, a fact he sometimes regretted.

  “We will continue to seek the descendants. The only difference is that now we will have to shift our focus from searching out new Guardians to protection and defense of the females.”

  Darnee pulled her feet from the table, and leaned toward him, “Why did you not tell the Council what happened in that clearing?”

  “I did. They fought, Ramos risked his life to save Ian, and Reynard escaped after the Mortal woman shot Sarah.”

  He reached for another fruit and she brought her hand down on top of his, trapping it against the bowl.

  “You did not tell them anything about what happened to Reynard. What Ramos and Ian both saw Sarah do to him. Why not?”

  He patted her hand, lifting it from his own. He’d lost the desire for fruit anyway.

  “They would not have believed. A true Fae should not be able to be wounded on the Mortal Plain. It cannot happen.”

  “But it did. Her hands burned into his chest. They both saw it. They both heard his screams.” She shook her head slowly. “Where do you think he is now?”

  “He is off licking his wounds, I would guess.” He paused, wondering how much to say to her. Wondering that she hadn’t figured it out for herself. “Assuming he survived.”

  Her eyes grew wide, understanding coloring them the deepest green. “You do not think he did, do you? That is why you did not tell the Council, is it not? It is against everything we have known for centuries that something like that could happen.”

  Dallyn shrugged. It had happened. He didn’t doubt the story of either man. Which left him with only one possible conclusion. The gifts were returning to the world of man. The powers all Fae possessed at one time but could no longer access on the Mortal Plain were, after all these generations, reappearing in the hands of mixed-race Fae. Half-Mortal descendants. The potential for catastrophe was beyond frightening, especially to ones such as he and Darnee who had witnessed the original destruction firsthand.

  “For now, it is enough that we know. That we be prepared. That our Guardians be prepared.”

  “But should we not try to warn the Co
uncil? What if…”

  “No,” he interrupted. “You saw them when we told them the Nuadians were actively seeking the females. You saw their resistance to accepting Ramos, to understanding that his father had a vastly more devious plan for that young man. Only his own innate goodness kept him from becoming a deadly weapon turned against us. How long did it take to convince them of something as simple as that? Something with the facts clearly in front of them?” He stopped, breathing deeply, reaching for the calm. He was too old to lose control. Was it his fault the Council chose not to pursue healing, deciding there were none qualified to carry on that work?

  “So we wait.” Something eerily close to fear shone in her eyes.

  “We wait. But while we wait, we make sure our Guardians are prepared for the worst. And we stay vigilant, aggressively searching—”

  A knock cut short the discussion. Before either of them could rise to answer, the door opened and their visitor entered. Both jumped to their feet, bowing their heads respectfully.

  Pol held up a hand, shaking his head. “No, there is no need for that. May I speak with you?”

  “Certainly, Your Highness.” Darnee extended her arm in welcome. “Please be seated.”

  “I was much moved by your impassioned presentation before the Council today. I have decided to help you. If…” He paused, steepling his fingers in front of him, concentrating his hard, unreadable stare on each one in turn.

  Suspicion curled in Dallyn’s gut. This Prince of the Fae had long avoided the responsibilities of his seat on the Council, sitting back and allowing others to take the lead. Why now?

  “If?” Dallyn encouraged.

  “If we can keep this just between us. Knowledge of my involvement goes no farther than this room. I rather prefer the reputation I have worked hard to get. I find I can accomplish much more if everyone one is busy looking the other way.”

  “And what do you want of us?” Dallyn was taken aback by that revelation, but waited to hear more.