by Katy Baker
"I dinna understand," he said at last. "Nobody but a handful know the truth. How can my story be written down in a book?”
She didn’t answer for a moment. Then she drew in a deep breath as if steeling her courage. "Eventually, many years from now, the disappearance of the MacAuley laird and his brothers will become woven into the folk stories of your people. It will become a myth handed down through the generations. Hundreds of years from now someone will gather those stories into a book and I will bring it back with me." She met his gaze. "From the future."
***
There. She'd said it. It was all out in the open now. Thea watched Logan carefully, gauging his response.
“The future?” he said incredulously. “What are ye talking about?”
“I’m from the twenty-first century.” Her pulse quickened as she said the words. Nerves fluttered in her belly. She felt strangely vulnerable as if her armor had been stripped away.
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then his gaze strayed to Thea’s camera. “Time-travel?” he breathed. “Surely such a thing isnae possible.” He laughed bitterly. “What am I saying? I shouldnae be surprised by anything the Fae are capable of. Why did ye not tell me, lass?”
“How could I? I didn’t know you. It’s not the sort of thing you tell somebody on an introduction.”
“So tell me now,” he commanded in a soft voice. “Tell me everything.”
"I didn’t lie," she replied, shaking her head. "I told you as much of the truth as I dared. Irene MacAskill did arrange for me to come to Scotland and she did disappear as soon as I got here. She met me by the stones in my own time and talked to me about destiny and fate and loads of other stuff I thought was bullshit at the time. Then I stepped beneath the archway and came back in time hundreds of years. You know the rest."
His expression hardened, anger flashing in his eyes. "Irene MacAskill," he growled, his hands curling into fists. "The Fae. They will answer for what they have done. I swear it."
“You’re not angry with me?”
“With ye? Why would I be? Are ye not as much a victim of their meddling as I?”
Relief flooded her and she closed her eyes for a moment. "You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I never expected it to be an issue as I thought I wouldn’t be here very long.” She looked up at him. “But I’m not sorry you didn’t find Irene. I’m not sorry I’ve had to stay.”
A wry smile twisted his lips. "Even now? Even after ye know about the curse that hangs over me?"
She took his hand and curled her fingers around his. "Even now. Especially now. I finally know the truth about you and it doesn’t scare me at all."
He shook his head. “Ye shouldnae say such things, lass. Ye should be scared. I am dangerous to be around.”
“I don’t believe that. And I don’t believe in curses. And you? Do you want to run a mile now you know where I’m really from?”
“Run?” Logan replied. “I could never run from ye, lass.”
He stepped closer, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her.
A shock wave went right through her body. For a heartbeat she went rigid, unable to respond. But then she kissed him back, her lips moving against his hungrily. His hands dropped to her waist, resting there gently as the kiss deepened, his tongue forcing her lips apart and dancing into her mouth. A low groan escaped her and she tangled her fingers in his hair as his arms went around her, yanking her roughly against his hard body.
An ache lit deep in Thea’s belly and traveled down to the spot between her legs. Oh god. She wanted him. All the pent up emotion, the feelings she'd been denying, came rushing to the surface. She kissed him fiercely, desperately, all thoughts vanishing, swallowed by his presence.
But abruptly, Logan broke the kiss and stepped back. He rested his hands on her waist and pressed his forehead against hers.
"Lass," he whispered. "Thea. We must stop. I willnae dishonor ye.”
Thea tried to gather her scattered thoughts. She placed her hands flat against his chest, her fingers touching the black swirl of his tattoo and forced herself to take a breath.
“Dammit. Why do you have to be so god-damned honorable?”
An answering smile curled his lips. He took one of her hands, kissed it, then turned to grab his shirt from the ground and pull it over his head.
The two of them began walking back along the trail. As they walked, she kept glancing at Logan. She couldn't help herself.
Holy crap, what was happening to her? She'd had boyfriends before but none of them had ever affected her the way Logan did. It was ridiculous. They were so different—from different countries, different cultures, different times. They had nothing in common. But Thea had never felt so alive as she did with him.
"May I see?" he asked suddenly.
"See?"
"Yer pictures." He nodded at her camera.
"Oh!" she said, surprised. She held the camera out to Logan who took it carefully. "Press this button here."
He followed her instructions and jumped slightly as a photograph of the stones sprang into view.
“Incredible,” he muttered.
"You scroll through them like this." She showed him the button to press and then watched with a smile as Logan examined them, his eyes widening at the pictures of Glenmorrow with its busy streets and speeding cars. It felt a little strange to be showing him this after all the effort she'd made to keep it from him but it also felt oddly liberating. He knew the truth. She could finally be herself.
He let out a low whistle as he handed the camera back to her. "Yer time looks to be an age of wonders, lass."
She shrugged. "It's not that different from here, really. At first, when I realized where I was, it felt as though I'd landed on a different planet but then, as I got to know you and Ailsa and Rhodry I realized it wasn't so dissimilar. People are the same wherever you are. It's only really the technology that makes things different. We have a lot of that."
"Like this device?"
"Yes, like this device. And a million other things besides. Our lives are full of it."
He cocked his head at her. "Ye must miss it terribly, lass."
She glanced at him and then picked a piece of grass from the trail and began shredding it as she thought through her answer. "I do miss it. Some things, at least. Coffee. Chocolate. But it's not those things that make a place home. It's the people."
Logan glanced at her but said nothing.
The sun was setting as they finally reached the house. Once inside Thea sat at the table while Logan crossed to the cupboard and took out two pottery cups and a bottle of whisky. He poured them both a dram and passed one to Thea. She sniffed it suspiciously.
"This smells like paint stripper.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. "That is Clan MacAuley's finest malt. Drink it lass, it will put hairs on yer chest."
Thea gave him a flat look then shrugged and downed the whisky in one gulp. She broke into a fit of coughing.
"And it tastes like paint stripper!" she gasped out.
Logan grinned at her. "Ye'll get used to it." He poured her another dram and then sipped his gently. "And it might help if ye dinna gulp it like ye are dying of thirst."
Thea eyed her cup. "I don't suppose you have any wine?"
"Nay, lass."
Thea waved a hand. "It's fine. It's coffee I really miss." She looked at him hopefully. "I don't suppose you've got coffee?"
"I've never heard of it."
Thea's eyes widened. "Never heard of it?" She pointed a finger at Logan. "You are an uncouth savage, Logan MacAuley."
"Aye, lass," Logan laughed. "Ye'll get no argument from me on that score."
Silence fell between them. All Thea could hear was the crackling of the fire and Logan's steady breathing. Memories of their kiss flared and she ached to feel his lips on hers again. He was watching her steadily, his eyes dark and unreadable.
Then suddenly he cleared his throa
t, pushed back his chair and stood. "I...um...I'd best retire to the smithy."
Thea grabbed his wrist. He glanced down at her, his lips parted slightly as a low breath escaped him.
"What are ye doing, lass?"
Thea’s own breathing quickened. "You don't have to go to the smithy.”
He said nothing, only glanced at her fingers where they gripped his wrist. "Dinna say such things, lass. Unless ye mean them."
"I mean them," Thea breathed. She stood, turning to face him and feeling her heart flutter in her chest. "You don't need to go."
His eyes searched her face, the candlelight casting shadows along the contours of his cheekbones. His hair gleamed like burnished metal and the shirt pulled tight across his chest. Did he even realize how god-damned handsome he was? The sight of him made Thea's stomach tighten and sent a hot wave of desire pulsing through her. She felt brazen but also a little afraid.
"Thea," he whispered and there was a world of implications in that word. "My self-control has limits. I should go. If I stay I fear I may dishonor us both." He was trembling slightly.
"There is no dishonor," she whispered.
He reached out and stroked his thumb down the side of her cheek. She leaned into the touch and gazed up at him. Logan leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.
Thea wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair. In response, Logan pulled her close and suddenly she was up against the wall, his body touching hers, the hard bulge of his desire pressing into her stomach.
She swept her hands underneath his shirt and up his back, feeling the hard muscles underneath his smooth, warm skin. His tongue darted inside her mouth and she welcomed it, their lips hot on each others, before his kisses traveled down her neck to her shoulders. She gasped and leaned her head back against the wall.
With a growl, Logan picked her up and carried her to the bed. As he laid her on her back he was already kissing her again, his weight pressing her into the mattress. One of his hands traveled lower, hiking up her dress and trailing his fingertips up her inner thigh. She arched under him as the ache between her legs deepened.
Then Logan looked up, his eyes going to the door, suddenly alert.
"What is it?" she gasped.
He held up a finger for silence and Thea fell still, listening hard. Then she heard it. Hoof beats in the distance.
A cold stab of fear went through her. Who would be riding here at this hour? Logan jumped to his feet and Thea scrambled up after him, quickly smoothing down her dress. Logan crossed to the shelf and picked up a long knife, clasping it in his fist.
"Stay there.”
He padded silently to the door. Something suddenly pounded on it so loud that it almost made Thea jump right out of her skin. She let out a little shriek then jammed her hands over her mouth.
"Who is it?" Logan demanded. "Who's there?"
A muffled voice came from the other side. "Logan? It's Rhodry. I need yer help!"
Chapter 12
Logan unlocked the door and pulled it open. Rhodry stumbled inside. His hair was disheveled and he looked exhausted. Logan grabbed his arm and helped him stagger to a chair.
"What is it, man? Ye look terrible.”
"Anna," he gasped out. "Anna is missing.”
Thea's hands flew to her mouth. "My God! What happened?"
Rhodry drew in a deep, ragged breath. "She went to collect firewood from the beach earlier this afternoon as she does every day. She didnae return. I’ve searched everywhere. Is she here? Have ye seen her? There were prints on the beach that led this way. I thought she might be trying to come and visit ye."
Thea shared an anguished glance with Logan.
"Nay, Rhodry, we havenae seen her," Logan said gently. "But we'll help ye search and we willnae rest until we find her." He clasped his friend's shoulder. "I give ye my word."
Rhodry nodded. "My thanks."
Rhodry dragged himself to his feet and the three of them hurried out into the yard. Dusk was thick in the air, with a chill coming on. They would have to work quickly if they hoped to find Anna before full dark fell. Logan jogged into the stable and reappeared leading Stepper. They mounted and left the croft at a canter, taking the cliff-top trail that gave a view of the beach below.
They didn't speak and traveled at a steady pace but not one that meant they might miss Anna in the gathering dark. Thea scanned the landscape, her eyes searching for any sign of the girl. From what Rhodry had told them, she'd been missing for several hours now. What could have become of her?
After a few miles they reached a fork in the trail. Here a path veered off to the left and snaked down the cliff to the shore below. Logan pulled Stepper to a halt, gazing at the smaller trail. His expression was troubled.
“What is it?” Thea asked.
“Dinna ye recognize this place?” he replied. “It’s the place where ye went over the cliff.”
Thea shivered, suddenly cold. No, she didn’t recognize the place and maybe that was a good thing. What little she could remember of that night was dark and terrifying.
“Let’s get away from here.”
But Logan didn’t move.
“What is it?” Rhodry asked. “Why have ye stopped?”
“There’s something here,” Logan muttered under his breath, so low that Thea could hardly hear it. “I can feel it.” He turned to look at Rhodry. “Wait here with Thea. I’m going to take a look.”
He scrambled down from Stepper and strode to the cliff edge. Rhodry jumped from his own horse and followed.
“I’m coming with ye.”
“And me,” Thea said, jumping from the saddle. “You think I’m going to wait up here whilst Anna might be in trouble? No chance.”
Logan glanced at them both and nodded. Together they scrambled down the steep trail, slipping and sliding on the loose stones that rolled out from under their feet. They finally reached the thin strip of shore at the bottom. Here waves were pounding the beach and it was littered with driftwood and other detritus.
“There!” Rhodry bellowed, pointing.
A figure lay crumpled on the sand by the tide line. It wasn’t moving. Heart in her mouth, Thea pelted after the men as they ran down the beach and skidded to their knees by the figure.
It was Anna.
Her eyes were closed, her skin pale, and there was a trickle of blood flowing down her temple.
Rhodry gathered up his daughter, pressing his hand to her forehead and then listening to her chest. He closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. "She lives."
Thea sagged and Logan wiped a shaky hand across his brow. Anna lay as still as death in her father’s arms. Despite Rhodry’s soft shaking, she didn't stir.
"Why willnae she wake?" he asked anxiously. "What's wrong with her?"
"We have to get her home," Thea said. "Ailsa can take a good look at her and give her some medicine."
Anna didn't stir as Rhodry lifted her into his arms, her head lolling and her limbs flopping. They made their way quickly up the trail to the horses. Rhodry cradled Anna in front of him as they mounted and pounded down the trail to Rhodry and Ailsa’s croft.
As they came in sight of the small farm they saw Ailsa and Mary waiting anxiously outside. Ailsa gave a little cry as they came riding into the yard and raced over.
“Ye’ve found her? Oh, thank the Lord!”
She examined her daughter as Rhodry held her, her gaze roving over the young girl’s face. Fear flashed in her eyes.
“Get her inside. I’ve made up her bed.”
Rhodry carried the girl into the house and deposited her on the small bed. Ailsa crouched by her side.
"Fetch my bag," she instructed her husband. "And warm some blankets by the fire and bring them here. She's mighty cold."
Rhodry followed his wife's instructions, returning a moment later with her medicine bag and some warmed blankets.
Thea knelt by the side of Anna's bed. She took hold of the girl's hand. Her skin was like ice. Gra
bbing the warmed blankets Rhodry had brought, Thea spread them over Anna while Ailsa mixed up a concoction from her bag of herbs. She held it to Anna's mouth but before any of the liquid touched her daughter's lips, Anna suddenly began to convulse. Her limbs flopped and her eyelids fluttered.
"She’s having a seizure!" Thea said. "Get her onto her side!"
Ailsa's face was white as they rolled Anna over and put her into the recovery position. After a few moments the seizure subsided and Anna went still once more, her eyes closed but her breathing even. Ailsa let out a sob.
Rhodry knelt by his wife's side and laid a hand on his daughter's head, gently stroking her brow.
“All will be well,” he said soothingly. “Our Anna is a fighter. She’ll come back to us.”
Thea climbed to her feet and made her way into the living room. Mary was telling a story to the rest of the children to keep them occupied. She looked up anxiously as Thea entered.
Thea gave her a small smile. "Anna’s sleeping.” Then she looked around. "Where's Logan?"
Mary glanced at the window. It was completely dark outside now. “The lad seemed distraught. Kept muttering about it being his fault. Then he left. He went out there. Into the night."
***
Logan walked into the darkness. The springy grass became sand that crunched under his boots. From up ahead came the sighing of the sea and a sickle moon illuminated the waves crashing against the shore. Logan reached the water line and kept going, walking right into the icy waves until they swirled around his thighs. The cold sent a shock-wave right through him but he welcomed it. It was nothing compared to the ice in his soul.
What had happened to Anna was his fault. His curse had come to claim her.
It was not a coincidence that Anna had been found on the exact same beach where Logan had brought Thea ashore. A beach miles from Anna’s home where she had no right to be. There were no coincidences where the Fae were concerned.
"Curse ye!" he bellowed to the empty sea. "Why could ye not just take me?"
A sound like harsh laughter carried on the wind. Did ye think ye could cheat me? Remember yer bargain, the wind seemed to whisper. Remember...