Highlander's Kiss

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “I’d appreciate the additional weaponry.” He accepted Finlay’s offer, selected an axe similar to Tor’s and sheathed it at his side.

  “Excuse me.” A knock sounded. “’Tis Layla. I bring refreshments.”

  “Come in, Layla,” Finlay called out. “Refreshments would be most welcome.”

  With a tray of tankards in hand, a young woman with golden spiral tresses and her hair pinned with a crown of pretty red flowers and red and white ribbons fluttering down her back, swished in. “The cook bid me to bring you all some ale and oatcakes.”

  “Give her my thanks.” Finlay shuffled some of the seneschal’s accounts littered across the chief’s large desk to the side. “Leave the tray right there, Layla. Meet my second cousins, Tavish and Tor, both recently arrived from the future.”

  “Aye, word has already spread around the keep that we have newcomers.” She set the tray down then carried a tankard to Tavish, excitement flushing her cheeks. “Is it true? You’re mated to Julia?”

  “It’s very true.” He accepted the earthenware mug and gestured to Tor. “My brother though has yet to meet his chosen one.”

  “Oh, ’tis so wonderful you’re both here to find your mates, although ’tis unfortunate you’ve arrived at this most difficult time.” Layla whooshed across to Tor with a tankard, her deep red skirts billowing around her. “Since the ‘power of three’ arrived, I’ve been so curious about the future. All the lasses would love to travel to your time. We hear there is far more freedom for women in the twenty-first century. Julia is certainly quite lucky to have already witnessed your world.”

  Tor smiled at her as he accepted the ale. “It’s been foretold our mated ones will hold a touch of fae blood. Do you hold fae blood, Layla?”

  “Aye. My father comes from the village, is one of the leaders, although we’ve lived here at the castle since I was born. Father is also one of Gilleoin’s captains. You will likely meet him afore too long. Father holds the same skill as I do, that of the ‘power of thought.’”

  “You mean telekinesis?” Tor’s brows rose in interest.

  “I’ve heard Finlay call it that as well. ’Tis the same thing.”

  “What of your mother?”

  “My mother passed away at my birth.” She ducked her head. “Nessa is my godmother, and alongside my father, has raised me.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “It has been some time, although Father misses her greatly. They were mated.” Her gaze moved over the loose laces on Tor’s billowy black shirt and they slowly tightened. She touched the swaying ends of his ties with her fingers then smiled and tucked her hands away behind her. “I can levitate or move objects, can manipulate whatever I wish. If you find I do things you dinnae like, please tell me. I can be too forward at times, so Father always says.”

  “Be as forward as you like. You’ve a most interesting skill and I’d love to learn more about it.”

  “I’ve a very distracting skill too.” Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink and she dipped her head. “Oh, but I am rattling on when I’ve clearly interrupted a meeting of great import. I must cease doing that. Please excuse me.”

  “There’s no need to go.”

  “I must.” She dashed out the door and waved over her shoulder. “Enjoy your ale.”

  Tor stood at the door watching the lass as she disappeared into the kitchens beyond the great hall. Once she’d disappeared, his brother frowned as he faced Finlay. “What’s her father’s name?”

  “Gregor, and Layla is also betrothed to Donnan MacDonald, the Chief of MacDonald’s son. They’re to be wed soon, once Gilleoin and Nessa have returned.” Finlay grumbled as ink blobbed from his quill onto the parchment. “I sure miss my computer with its spreadsheets, not to mention a regular old pen. I keep asking Cherub and Kirk to bring me a ballpoint. You’d think they’d remember one tiny little pen, but no, it always slips their minds.”

  “I wish I had one on me to loan you.” Tavish selected a whetstone from the armoire, withdrew his sword and sharpened his blade.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had to see to an issue.” Kirk strode in, his white tunic tucked into his belted plaid and his ever-present sword sheathed.

  “We’ve sorted out the details regarding the search. You’ll all be leaving with the warriors who’ll be riding out to the encampment tomorrow, around midmorning.” Finlay lobbed his quill to him. “I need a pen, a real pen, with the ink contained within. Tell me you remembered to get me one on your trip home this morning.”

  “Ugh, so sorry.” Kirk tossed the quill back to him. “I’ll get it the next time I’m home.”

  “That’s what you always say.”

  “I do get a little distracted by Cherub at times, and honestly, those are very interesting distractions.” Kirk dropped onto the seat next to the fire. “Before we leave on the search, Cherub and I also need to see to one more issue. Nessa requested my mate and I take Julia to the MacKenzie’s keep, for her to have the chance to listen and see if she can hear the gentle hum of her parents’ auras.”

  “I’m coming on that trip.” Tavish halted mid-stroke with the whetstone. “Where Julia goes, I go.”

  “Understood.” Kirk nodded. “Let me just reach Cherub and find out where she’s at so we can get that trip underway.” He tapped his head then frowned. “That’s strange. I can’t reach her along our merged link. Sometimes it cuts out when she flitters about, but she never said she was going anywhere.”

  “Is it possible she’d take Julia to the MacKenzie’s keep on her own?” Cold fear chased down Tavish’s spine. He set the whetstone back and sheathed his sword. “I left the two of them upstairs together.”

  “There’s every chance.” Kirk shoved to his feet with a low growl. “Unfortunately my mate has been on her own for over a thousand years and is still getting used to having me around and not acting on her own. If she’s gone to the MacKenzie’s lair though, then she’s going to be in a world of trouble with me.”

  “We need to check.” Tavish raced out the door and bounded upstairs with Kirk at his side. He flung Julia’s chamber door open and stepped inside. Neither women were there, not even a trace of their scent.

  Kirk gritted his teeth as he eyed the open window. “That is not a good sign. Change into your battle attire now and arm yourself well. We’re about to sail across the loch.”

  * * * *

  On top of the enemy’s battlements with Cherub, Julia focused on her parents. If they were anywhere in this keep then she’d hear them, only not one soft hum echoed back toward her. Hot tears burned behind her eyes and she squeezed Cherub’s hand. “I hear naught.”

  “Then we continue to search farther afield, but ’tis good you came.” Cherub hugged her. “Keep the faith that if they live, we’ll find them.”

  “I shall.” She wouldn’t fail her parents a second time, not as she’d done in misreading Colin and Jeremiah MacKenzie’s auras. “Thank you for bringing me, even though ’twas a—”

  “Who goes there?”

  “Shh.” Cherub dragged her into the closest recessed archer’s resting spot. Even though they couldn’t be seen, the battlements weren’t all that wide.

  “I said who goes there?” A warrior strode through the swirling fog in dark battle leathers, one gauntleted hand firm on his sword hilt and his fiery red hair brushing his wide shoulders. His aura, a dirty blood-red, saturated him and the thunderous rumble that accompanied his aura surrounded and smothered her. ’Twas Jeremiah, his aura so very different to what she’d first seen during their meeting. This was his true aura, and one that would have warned her to steer well clear of him had she been aware of it.

  Jeremiah marched past their hidden spot then stopped, sniffed the air and backed up with a thumping step. He gripped the stone ledge above them, bent and peered into their darkened nook. “I smell vanilla and white roses, a woman’s scent, and there is only one woman who can remain unseen to a man’s eye. It appears we have a visitor. Come out and stand
afore me, Cherub.”

  Cherub squeezed Julia’s hand in a silent entreaty that she remain quiet, then she pushed her farther back into the nook and rose and uncloaked before their enemy. With her hands planted on her hips, she arched a brow. “You called, Jeremiah?”

  “You’re on MacKenzie land, have trespassed and will pay dearly for doing so.”

  “I also received your father’s missive and you’ve no doubt been expecting me. Where is he keeping Aleck and Adair, that’s if they’re truly alive?”

  “They’re alive and far from here. When they first arrived, I was the one to personally escort them to their new accommodations, and they’ve remained there the length of their imprisonment. You can be certain though that when the deadline expires and Julia hasn’t been brought to me, then their death will be assured. I’ll see to it myself.” He spat on the ground.

  Julia searched his aura but the inherent deceit that already swarmed through the dirty blood-red was so thick she couldn’t tell if his words were the truth and her parents truly lived.

  “I’ll never allow one of my kin to wed you.” Cherub shoved him back then dissolved into a mist and reappeared in full form on his other side. She walked backward, drawing Jeremiah farther away from her hidden position in the nook.

  “An alliance by marriage is what my father and I seek between our clans.” Jeremiah stalked Cherub. “There will never be peace unless Julia and I speak vows and wed. Does she no’ care for her parents? Does she wish them dead?”

  Never would she wish her parents dead. She shoved out of the recess, rushed along the walkway and pounded her fists into Jeremiah’s back. “Tell me where they are! Tell me where they are!”

  “Wed me and I shall.” He snagged her hands and rammed her into the wall behind her. “Guards,” he shouted, “come.”

  Her head hit the stone and her breath whooshed out. Everything swayed then the wind rushed and Jeremiah was thrust from her. Cherub gripped her hand, cloaked them both and swept them high into the skies.

  “Fire your arrows,” Jeremiah bellowed to his men.

  Arrows flew, arched high and sailed right past them as they sped back toward the House of Clan Matheson.

  “Are you all right, Julia?” Cherub’s hold on her tightened.

  “I shall be. I’m sorry. I shouldnae have attacked him but I couldnae help it.” She rubbed her achy head. “This time I saw his true aura and heard the venomous strength of it as well.”

  “Could you tell if he told the truth about your parents being alive?”

  “All I could sense was his evilness.” The pain of her loss welled up again and suffocated her.

  “Just breathe.” Cherub rubbed her back. “Put all thought of what’s happened from your mind. We’ll find your parents, and then we’ll free them. This I promise you.”

  “Thank you.” Touching her heart, she strengthened her resolve. She had an entire clan who would aid her in her search, as well as a soul bound mate who would stand by her side no matter what the future held. Grandmother had been right when she’d said she needed to see and hear with her own eyes and ears as well. Her parents would never have wished for her to wed their enemy, not now she’d seen exactly who Jeremiah was.

  Find her parents, she would. There was no other choice.

  Chapter 6

  Across the inner channel of Loch Alsh, Cherub whisked Julia back toward the House of Clan Matheson while overhead, the afternoon skies darkened with the promise of rain. Foamy white waves crashed onto the pebbly shore.

  “Oh dear, it looks like we’ve arrived just in time.” Cherub settled them gently down on the slick stone landing as Tavish and Kirk, wearing full battle attire, raced down the winding castle trail toward them. Cherub uncloaked them both and gently squeezed her hand. “Might I recommend you give Tavish a kiss. I’ve found distracting one’s mate in such a way works rather well, particularly when I’ve inadvertently gotten myself into trouble. Kiss your mate, and dinnae stop until you’ve completely muddled his mind. That is what I shall be doing.”

  “Cherub!” Kirk stormed toward her, the claymore holstered in a baldric across his back bobbing with each step he took. Hands firm on his sides, he halted before her. “You, my elusive imp, have some serious explaining to do. I couldn’t reach you along our link. Where have you been?”

  “To the MacKenzie’s lair.” She sidled up against him, lifted up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I should have taken you, but sometimes I cannae help but act alone, particularly when I’ve done so for over a thousand years. Allow me to apologize the right way.”

  “Don’t go thinking you can get out of this argument by—”

  Cherub kissed him and he moaned, gripped her tight and kissed her back. The wind swirled and the two of them disappeared on the breeze as Cherub took them away.

  Right. Kissing seemed to work a real treat.

  Glowering, Tavish stomped along the landing in black leather trews and sturdy boots, his war coat flapping open over a white tunic. His weapons gleamed at his side, a great two-handed claymore on one hip and a battle axe on the other. “We too will be having words. You’re never to leave me in such a manner again, or set one foot on MacKenzie land without me by your side. Are. We. Clear?”

  “I couldnae hear my parents’ auras.” She rested her forehead on his chest, her burgundy skirts fluttering in the wind against her legs. “Nessa said I’d need to see what was there with my own eyes afore the truth could ever set me free.”

  “Did going there do so?” His voice gentled as he gripped her upper arms, skimmed downward and threaded their fingers together. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Jeremiah spoke to Cherub and I listened in on their conversation. He said my parents are alive and far from here, that when they first arrived at their keep, he was the one to personally escort them to their new accommodations and that they’ve remained there the length of their imprisonment. When the fortnight expires and I’ve not been brought to him, then their death will be assured. He’ll see to it himself.” She lifted her chin, looked deep into his golden eyes. “The truth is, my parents would be furious if I ever agreed to marry Jeremiah MacKenzie in order to see them freed. My resolve is now firm. We shall search for them, find them, and bring them home. There can be no other way.”

  “I’ll never allow you to wed Jeremiah MacKenzie. You’re my mate. I’ll never lose you to the enemy.”

  She untangled one of their hands and cupped his cheek. “My heart tells me we’re mated, even though my skill does no’. I’ve no wish to wed any man, other than you.”

  “Then you and I need some privacy to talk, just the two of us, without any possible interruption. I certainly intend on showing you exactly how very completely mated we are.” He led her farther along the landing, bounded into a skiff, reached back and swung her on board beside him. “Take a seat.”

  “Where are you taking me?” She plopped down on the bench at the stern, as eager and needy as he was for this stolen moment in time. Just the two of them. She longed for that.

  “Where there isn’t another soul except you and me.” He released the mooring rope, coiled and stored it then with the oars in hand, sat on the center seat and rowed out of the bay. Once he’d cleared the rougher waters, he tucked the oars away, removed his war coat studded with bits of steel and tucked it under the seat then grasped the ropes.

  The wind filled the sail with a hearty slap, and with his feet braced wide along the side, the skiff shot off like an arrow. “The wind is strong. Come here, Julia.”

  She climbed over the center seat and seized his waist. The crosswinds at the tip of the loch slapped into the sail and pulled it taut. The skiff rose farther out of the water on the other side and as Tavish leaned back to counter the balance, so did she.

  Flattened against his chest, his arms either side of her as he harnessed the wind power in the tight sail, he sent them flying across the water. Goodness, if she reached out, she might very well be able to touch the white
-capped waves. “Do you sail like this often?”

  “Tor and I often race together along Loch Bear near Ivanson Castle. There’s nothing quite like sailing the seas or enjoying Scotland’s freshest air. It clears the mind as nothing else can.”

  The wind whipped her golden locks into a frenzy and she giggled at the sheer freedom that rolled through her. The sea swelled and crashed into the shore they sailed alongside and the forested hills of her homeland rose high and far into the distance. “This is wonderful, and just what I needed.”

  “Me too. Don’t let go of me,” he yelled over the heavy thrashing of the waves.

  “I shall never let go of you.” With her arms tight around his waist, she held onto him and smiled as his beautiful aura shimmered with sparks of silver, his enjoyment in their trip clear to see. She kissed his chin and nuzzled his neck.

  “Do that again.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Keep touching me.”

  “You are one very demanding mate.” But she obeyed his request. Such peace invaded her soul as she held onto the man who’d taken over her world. With the ropes in hand, his biceps bulged and his billowy white tunic flapped free, his hair now a wind-tossed mess which she completely adored. She stroked over his broad shoulders and arms, along his trim sides. Muscles bunched and rippled under her palms. Her mate was a man who held great strength, would fight to protect her and his clansmen, but also a man who held the gentlest touch when healing another. The fates had certainly shined on her. She’d been gifted with such a wonderful man, one her parents would have loved.

  “What are you thinking?” His warmth enveloped her.

  “Of how you make me feel, safe, protected, cherished.”

  “Aye, you’re mine to protect, my mate, the only woman I will ever hold in my heart.”

  “And you’re the only man I will ever hold in my heart.” She slid her fingers under the flapping hem of his tunic and smoothed over his muscled back.

  They rounded the tip and as the wind eased and the skiff settled back down, Tavish jumped from the edge into the hull and took her with him as he did. “You can take a seat again if you wish.”