She was afraid she might sleepwalk during one of her dreams and had started barricading herself in her room at night. All she needed was to wake up standing in front of an open wall safe, some new and horrifying thing waiting for her inside. No, thank you.
Evie clapped her hand over her own and she realized she had been picking at her cuticles. Evie hated when she got all fidgety and started tearing things up, especially her own body parts.
“Piper,” Evie started, full school marm voice in effect. “What is it?”
Piper shrugged, turning her head listlessly to gaze out the window at the grey day. She tried to avoid looking out windows lately, because she couldn’t help hoping she’d see Lachlan through one of them. The following plunge into disappointment always took her by surprise, no matter how she steeled herself against it. Looking at Evie’s accusing face was worse right now, though. To her dismay, Evie reached over and took her by the chin, forcing her to turn back.
“You have to tell me what’s going on,” she said, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
She dropped her hand with a forceful smack against the old plank table.
Piper showed her teeth in what she hoped passed for a smile and shook her head, throwing in another eye roll for good measure. “Nothing,” she said. “All the grain statistics were giving me a headache.”
“Enough,” Evie said with another slam. “I can’t take you lying to me anymore. You thought Daria wasn’t a threat, or that you could handle it on your own, and you were wrong.” She patted Piper’s hand to soften her harsh words. “You were gone for eight months. I thought I lost you. When you came back, you knew Daria might be out there, but you didn’t tell me. I almost lost Magnus.” Her voice broke and she dropped her chin to her chest. “You’re here, but not here, Pipes. I’m afraid you’re going to get lost if you don’t tell me.”
Piper opened her mouth to deny all of it, even as guilt rippled through her. The thing that kept her up at night, that plagued her when she managed to fall asleep, was pulling at her to brush off her oldest friend, tell her she was nuts. Poor, sweet Evie would believe her.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you everything when we first got back,” she said slowly. “I didn’t want you to worry. What with having the baby, and the fighting with Sam. And you had to take care of the estate all that time we were gone.” She laughed mirthlessly and shook her head. “I gave away half my money and you ended up earning most of it back with your insane skills.”
“I was weirdly good at it,” Evie agreed. Then she frowned. “Okay, I get why you didn’t tell me, and I forgive you, but things still aren’t right.”
“I miss Lachlan,” she said in a last ditch effort at evasion.
Evie leaned back, crossing her arms in front of her. She shook her head, a mix of anger and sadness in her overflowing eyes. “It’s more than that,” she insisted.
Piper took a deep breath and watched the tears roll down Evelyn’s face. “When Lachlan killed Daria, I think something evil possessed me,” she said on the exhale, before she could chicken out.
Evie coughed, her eyes growing round. “Crap,” she said after she stopped choking.
“Yes. Crap.”
They stared at each other until they both burst into nervous laughter. Piper put her head on the table, feeling lighter that it was out in the open, but still very much weighted down. She expected to be left alone to wallow in her misery, and she would deserve it. Maybe one day she would figure out how to beat the dark presence, or maybe she’d be committed to an institution.
“Do we want booze or chocolate for this?” Evie asked.
Piper’s head snapped up and she looked at her oldest and dearest friend with surprise and gratitude.
Evie rolled her eyes. “That nasty piece of work cut me, stabbed Sam, nearly killed us both in a fire, and stole my only child. Do you honestly think I’m going to let her jacked up spirit possess you?”
Piper snorted as she blinked away tears. “So, what do we do now?” she asked, the first glimmer of hope working its way back into her darkened heart.
Getting up from the table, Evie hauled one of the recently discovered boxes of books over and plunked several of them down in front of her. She took out a sheaf of tattered papers and sat back down, looking resigned.
“We study,” she said, waving her hand at the books. “Somewhere buried in all the damn grain statistics, there’s got to be something.” She settled in, rattling the dry parchment as she smoothed it out, rested her chin in her hands and squinted down at the nearly unreadable print.
Piper opened the nearest book and had barely gotten two pages into it when Evie gasped. She looked up to find all the color drained from her face, her mouth open in shock.
“Oh my God,” she said, her finger stabbing a line on the page. After several blinks, she bent over it to read it again.
“What?” Piper asked impatiently. “Did you find something about Daria?”
Evie made a strangled noise and shook her head. “I think I found out why Lachlan’s in the crypt.”
The End
Epilogue
It was too late. He had never seen such a look of torment on her face before, on anyone’s face. He could tell she wanted him to stop, and he trusted her. He trusted her more than she trusted herself, never believing for an instant that she had anything in common with the foul witch other than a distant blood line. At the last second, a look of absolute decision had come to life in her eyes. She didn’t want the witch dead. But it was too late. He was too strong and the axe too sharp. The momentum had carried the blade home to its destination.
He left the blade buried in the ground in the fast growing pool of blood and whirled around. Too late. The sound of her anguished scream winked out as if shut up in a bottle, not even an echo of it remaining.
“Piper,” he bellowed, running to where she had been standing.
He spent desperate minutes going in every direction, rattling branches and hollering himself hoarse. Finally he stood still, back where he started, and gazed down at the witch’s corpse. It took all of his willpower to refrain from kicking it or being otherwise disrespectful. His darling Piper wouldn’t have wanted that.
His mind was reeling with shattered thoughts and disjointed questions. Where was she? Had she and the wee lad been sent back, and if so, how? He prayed that was what had happened and that they were safe.
“What have ye done, ye wicked woman?” he growled at Daria’s body, dislodging the axe blade from the earth and wiping the blood on a patch of moss.
He couldn’t stand still, the fear of not knowing what had happened to Piper making him pace restlessly.
With shaking hands, he dug out the small vial of dried herbs he kept with him at all times and gripped it in his fist. He could find her, he must find her. If the last image he ever had of her was the despairing look she’d given him just before he swung his axe…
He closed his eyes and tried to conjure a memory of her laughing face, the way she gazed at him as if he were worthy of her. The way her eyes fluttered shut when he kissed her just so.
He started to work the tiny cork out of the vial, ready to make his way back to her time, clinging to the hope that she was there, and not in some fearsome empty space all alone. That thought nearly killed him where he stood. He would go, now.
Looking around for a spot to perform the spell, he realized how close he was to the pool of blood surrounding the witch. He didn’t care a whit about her, and was happy to imagine her being picked apart by crows, but it made him think of Redmond, who lay dead some way back in the woods, murdered by that fiendish woman.
He’d known him his whole life. The man had faithfully served his father before him. Redmond deserved a proper burial, his family deserved recompense. And his brother was waiting for him to sort the nonsense that bloody fool Pietro had gotten them into. He couldn’t leave Quinn on the verge of a clan war, and the poor lass Bella at her miserly father’s mercy.
“
Ah, bugger.”
He stoppered the vial and strode away from the wretched corpse, unable to be near it anymore. Dropping to his knees, he put his head in his hands, visions of Piper racing through his mind. He longed to hold her, forcing down panic that he may never again. He couldn’t stand thoughts of her sadness. God knew why, but she loved him. She had been bereft during the months he had foolishly left her the first time. He pummeled the ground with his fists.
She was a sweet lass, always putting everyone before herself. She wouldn’t be pleased if he left his brother to handle a problem he’d made, that he could probably end with a few words. He had to trust she had made it home to her own time, and was safe. He swallowed the sour taste of his decision and with one last bitter glance at the witch, set off to where he’d tied his horse.
He found his brother and his men where he’d left them, huddled impatiently waiting for his return. He was relieved to see Pietro had brought Bella from her hiding place and he gave his wife a cold stare. His lip quirked up when she returned his sour look in spades, glad to see her feisty attitude was still firmly in place. She would need all the courage she could muster for what they were about to face.
Pietro tightened his hold about her waist and Lachlan nodded at him, his eyebrows shooting up when he noticed the Glen plaid for the first time. So that was how he had gotten Bella out of the castle. It was clever. And brave. He supposed he owed him a proper apology for the pummeling he’d given him. Piper had let him know in no uncertain terms how much she disapproved of his penchant to hit first and ask questions later. He flexed his fists at his sides now as he looked out at the courtyard, brightly lit with torches and crawling with armed men.
“How many?” he asked his brother.
Quinn shrugged and looked bleak. “More than we have,” he said.
He noticed Lachlan was alone and opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Lachlan held up his hand to stay him. He couldn’t explain Piper’s absence, or speak of Redmond’s death just now. His men needed to be focused on the task at hand. It was likely to be bloody and they would need their wits about them.
His side twinged and he put his hand on the scar there. He almost laughed when he realized he’d been a part of this already. This was most certainly the skirmish he’d landed in when he was trying to get to Piper’s time. He’d asked her if there had been any battles that had taken place on the property, and she hadn’t known. It was because it hadn’t taken place yet. Not in his time or her history. They had set this in motion. How many more things were they going to muck up and change?
He missed Piper already, so much his teeth ached, but could he risk more damage to be with her? It was all he wanted. Just to walk away and do his chant and grind his herbs, find her and rest easy in her arms.
He glanced at his brother, looking out at the Glens. His face was tight, his eyes worried. Only Lachlan, who knew him so well, knew the lad was afraid. Quinn was not yet twenty-two, but had shown himself an admirable leader in Lachlan’s absence. He should not have had to do the things Lachlan had left him to do.
With a rush of shame, he knew he was no better than his father, who had left them to fend for themselves while he gallivanted around the country drinking away his grief and seducing heiresses.
With a resolute breath, he turned to his men. They straightened up and took hold of their horses. They were ready to fight.
“I shall ride ahead and ask to speak to Tavish. We must hope he is hospitable to what I offer, which is only that my wife be allowed to leave with me, and no actions taken against us.”
Bella quietly sobbed and tried to muffle her tears in Pietro’s chest. Lachlan frowned, hoping she could put on a better face for her father. He knew she was frightened, but it would do their cause no good to have her dissolved in tears. He tried to convey this in a look to Pietro, who set about consoling her.
“Our first hope is peace between the clans,” he continued, looking each man in the eye. “But if it comes to it, we fight. We fight for the honor of my wife.” He paused, swallowing down the lie in the words. Then his voice grew stronger. His men needed his strength, even if that too was a lie. “We fight for the honor of our name.”
He mounted his horse and his men followed suit. He reached down and helped Bella to mount in front of him, to show a united front for her father. Everyone was in a frenzy, his first words of peace lost in the promise of a battle. The scar in his side throbbed a warning and he silently begged forgiveness of the wives who would become widows that night, the children who would lose their fathers.
His only thoughts were of Piper as he kicked his horse forward and rode ahead, desolate and hopeless. He prayed she would live a happy life, and that he might catch a glimpse of her again one day.
Thank you for reading Revenge!
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Also, look for the 4th book in the Lost Highlander series in summer 2014
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Revenge (Book 3 of Lost Highlander series) Page 17