Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  “Too long this takes,” Robert slurred, worry in his voice. “Hours now.”

  “Aye, m’laird,” Logan said. "Dinnae fret. Countess Marjorie is a strong lass."

  Theirs was an interesting tale what with the Countess holding Robert captive until he agreed to marry her. He had only come to deliver news that her late husband had been killed in battle, yet it seemed the lass was taken by his good looks. Either way, they had found love despite their unusual beginning and were now getting ready to welcome their second child.

  Robert chugged down his newly delivered whisky then sighed. Minutes later, Logan breathed a sigh of relief when the man’s chin rested on his chest and a loud snore erupted.

  He flinched as the Countess released another mournful wail.

  Something was wrong.

  When an old woman came to the door of the Countess’s chambers and nodded at him, Logan flicked his wrist and strode her way. By the time he entered, none save the woman who called him over knew he had been there. And certainly no one would ever know he’d entered this room. In fact, nobody save the Countess would ever know he had even been in this castle to begin with.

  “Logan,” she whimpered and squeezed his hand.

  Soaked in sweat, she lay in a large four poster bed with a thin blanket covering her.

  “Shh, m’lady, all will be well.” He placed a soothing hand against her clammy forehead, speaking to her even as he chanted within his mind. “We will get yer bairn safely into this world.”

  The Countess tried to nod but was far too weak. No matter, the more he chanted, the easier things became for her. His eyes locked with the old woman’s. She nodded and readied herself for delivery.

  Not long after, Marjorie released another long wail then slumped back.

  At first there was only silence.

  A heart-stopping quiet as everything hung in the balance.

  Had the child survived?

  Moments later he released a thankful breath when a cry rent the air. The baby lived. After she washed and swaddled the babe, the old woman placed him in the Countess’s waiting arms. Marjorie murmured a soft greeting to her newborn son. “Welcome, my wee one. Welcome, Roibert a Briuis. Might ye be a strong and noble lad.”

  Logan kissed both her and the bairn on the forehead before he left.

  May this be the beginning of a very short quest but somehow he sensed it would not be.

  After all, a great man had just been born.

  Robert the Bruce, future King of Scotland.

  Chapter One

  Salem, New Hampshire

  2015

  CASSIE TURNED DOWN the music as she took exit two off of Route 93. “I thought this trip would take less time, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “I told you it was a hike from Winter Harbor to Salem.” Nicole snorted. “I’m surprised your old clunker made it.”

  “Shh, quiet.” Cassie patted the steering wheel of her ’87 Chevy Chevette, winked then popped a piece of gum in her mouth. “My baby might hear you.” She nodded at her cell phone. “Damn thing. You need to restart it then get the GPS working again. Meanwhile, I’ll pull over and gas up.”

  “Uh huh,” Nicole said absently as she eyed the map on her lap.

  Cassie shook her head, hopped out and stretched. It was still hard to believe that she was finally going to meet another long lost Broun relative. Then again, she was sort of surprised it took this long. She had already connected with three others years ago through her ancestry website. Jacqueline, Erin, and Nicole. Since then, they had become fast friends. It helped that they all lived in New England. Cassie in upstate Maine, Erin in Southern Vermont and Jacqueline and Nicole in Massachusetts.

  Nicole cranked down the window. “Just got a text from Sean. He’s standing by to FaceTime.”

  “Nice. Let him know we’re close.”

  Sean O’Conner, or better yet the bookstore he now owned, was the reason she had discovered there were more Brouns in the area. The family name had popped up in an archive associated with his store so she wasted no time heading that way. As it turned out, the people working at the store knew nothing about it.

  Not about to give up so easily, Cassie researched the name of the current owner and she and Nicole went directly to his house in Winter Harbor. Surprisingly enough, Sean was a tall, good-looking fishing boat captain around their age. Nicole, firecracker that she was, fell hard for him in under a minute.

  They explained why they were there and though he seemed hesitant at first, they tossed back a few beers and he shared why the name Broun was affiliated with his bookstore. He had come by the store through a woman named Cadence who, as it turned out, was related to the Brouns. He had no idea what became of Cadence but gave them her sister, Leslie’s name. Leslie currently resided in North Salem, New Hampshire.

  If all that good luck wasn’t enough, he was also in possession of a manuscript that apparently revolved around several Broun cousins. They were able to leaf through it briefly. Titled The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, it was about Broun women who traveled back in time to medieval Scotland. Better yet, a clan called the MacLomains. It was pretty fantastical with wizards and dragon-shifters, but intriguing nonetheless.

  After they left, Cassie immediately contacted Leslie and told her about the Broun Society she had started on her website and how much she and her three friends would like to meet her. Though Leslie said no at first, she ended up calling back the next day. Not only did she insist they visit but that they stay at her house. No need to rent a room at a motel.

  So here they were.

  Almost.

  Jaqueline and Erin would join them in a few days.

  Though Sean wouldn’t let them take the manuscript to Leslie, he said he would show it to her via FaceTime.

  “I could so use an iced coffee,” Nicole chimed through the window.

  Cassie put the gas nozzle back on its hook and shut the tank lid. “You got it, sweetie.”

  Minutes later, Chai tea in hand, she navigated down Rt. 97. Nicole sipped her iced coffee and eyed Cassie’s cell. “I’d really like to ask Sean out.”

  “I bet you would.” Cassie shook her head. “Let it go. Long distance relationships never work out.”

  “He’s so hot, though.” Nicole pouted. “Coulda been cast in the movie, The Perfect Storm, that one.”

  “Yeah, if Clooney didn’t land the part.” Cassie eyed Nicole. “Did you get the GPS going? I don’t hear anything.”

  “Right, hang on.” Within seconds, Google Maps was once more talking to them.

  “I still can’t believe this place is so close to America’s Stonehenge,” Cassie said. “We’ll definitely have to swing by there before we leave.”

  Nicole nodded. “Not really my bag but I’m on board if that’s what you wanna do, my friend.”

  Thankfully, it was only another ten minutes or so before they turned off onto a dirt road. They passed a small, ranch-style house, but the GPS told them to keep going.

  “Oh wow,” Cassie said as they came to the end. A large, freshly painted barn was on the left and on the right, a quaint Colonial overshadowed by an ancient, gnarly oak tree. Autumn was peaking, swathing the land in bright orange, red and yellow.

  “Yeah, no kidding wow,” Nicole said. “Nothing like pulling your way-past-being-on-its-last-leg car up next to a brand new luxury sports car. Look at that beauty!”

  “Sure, gorgeous,” Cassie murmured, not paying attention to the other car. Something about this place felt so familiar, as though she had been here before. A golden colored horse with a reddish blond tail and mane trotted out of the forest.

  “What the?” she whispered. With small braids interwoven into his long, black hair, a man turned the steed in their direction. Startlingly handsome, he wore a blue and green plaid, a dark tunic, and black boots.

  “Dear God, look at him,” Nicole said.

  “I am.” She glanced at her friend. “What’s with the Scottish getup though?”

 
“Huh?” Nicole’s dark red brows slammed together. “Since when are jeans and a t-shirt Scottish?”

  Cassie’s eyes flew back to the man. She blinked several times. What the hell? Gone was the Scotsman and even the horse she had seen. In his place, another man altogether…and another horse. Not to say this one wasn’t a fine specimen as well.

  Nicole was out of the car before Cassie opened her door. By the time she joined her friend, he was swinging off his horse and smiling at them. “You must be the Brouns who contacted Leslie,” he said in greeting. “Welcome, lasses. I’m Bradon.”

  It was the first time she had ever seen Nicole’s jaw drop and her friend speechless. Cassie didn’t much blame her. He was pretty hot with his tall, muscular frame and brilliant emerald green eyes. Then there was the thick Scottish burr. That alone could make a woman weak in the knees. Yet she was less interested in his astounding looks and kick-ass accent than she was the fact he was Scottish when she had clearly just seen an entirely different Scotsman trot out of the woods.

  Cassie gave Nicole a ‘snap out of it’ pat on her shoulder and shook Bradon’s hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cassie.” She nodded at her awe-struck friend. “And this is Nicole.”

  Nicole’s eyes were wide as she shook his hand. “Nicole. Never Nikkie or Nics or any other variation.”

  Bradon quirked the corner of his lip. “Nice to meet you, Nicole.”

  Cassie did her best not to chuckle. Nicole was the least uptight of them all but when it came to her name, watch out.

  “Ah, you made it.”

  They turned to the tall, black-haired woman heading their way. Beautiful, her olive-toned skin made her pale green eyes pop. “I’m Leslie.” They didn’t have a chance to respond before she held out a hand to Cassie. “You must be Cassie.”

  “I am.” She shook her hand; overly aware of the sharp assessment Leslie gave them both as she greeted Nicole. This was a woman that could sum up exactly who a person was in five seconds flat. “I take it you already met my husband.”

  Nicole blinked a little too rapidly, her eyes struggling to stay off of Bradon.

  “We did.” Cassie looked around. “This place is gorgeous. Thanks so much for having us.”

  “Of course. Our pleasure.” Leslie chuckled and took Bradon’s hand as they headed for the house, tossing over her shoulder, “No worries, Nicole. You can check him out all you want, honey. I don’t blame you in the least.”

  Some women might have been embarrassed by the comment, but Nicole only smiled broadly. “If you insist.”

  Cassie frowned at Nicole, but it seemed she had nothing to worry about because Leslie only laughed as she escorted them in and winked at Bradon. “Looks like the Broun streak of being over honest that affected me wasn’t a one-time deal, eh?”

  “Och, my lass, there’s not another quite like you. Never has been. Never will be,” he murmured and pulled her into his arms.

  It didn’t seem to bother them in the least that they had just welcomed perfect strangers into their home. No, the two kissed one another long enough that even Nicole had the good grace to look away.

  The house was nice. Perhaps around three hundred years old, it had been updated and decorated tastefully.

  Leslie eventually and very reluctantly tore herself away from Bradon and led them into the kitchen. “Long drive for you ladies. You thirsty?”

  “Sure, thanks,” Nicole said.

  “Name your poison.” Leslie urged them to sit at the kitchen table. “Coffee. Tea. Beer.”

  Bradon pulled a bottle out of the cabinet and thumped it down on the counter, eying them both. “Or whisky?”

  Leslie gave him an odd, fleeting look.

  “I just had coffee so I’m good with beer, thanks,” Nicole said.

  Cassie eyed the bottle and though she’d never once tried whisky she suddenly had an unexplainable craving. Her eyes met Bradon’s. “I’ll try some of that if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” He pulled out a few small glasses and poured before handing her one. Leslie grabbed Nicole a beer then sat down with them at the table.

  Cassie sniffed the liquor then took a tiny sip. It burned like hell going down. Eyes watering, she looked at Bradon. “Maybe an ice cube. Seems like it might be better chilled.”

  “Nay, lass.” He eyed her almost as oddly as Leslie had him when he offered the liquor to begin with. “It’s best enjoyed as it is. Chilling a good whisky takes from the flavor.”

  “Enough with whisky.” Leslie’s eyes locked with Cassie’s. “Let’s chat about what brought you here to begin with.”

  “Right. Yeah.” Cassie nodded. “Of course.” She fished her phone out of her purse as she again explained everything she had told Leslie over the phone. “And there’s this manuscript.” Eyebrows arched at Leslie, she said, “Sean’s waiting to show it to you if you’re cool with that.”

  “Absolutely.” Leslie nodded at the phone. “Let’s go live.”

  “Great.” When Cassie got Sean on FaceTime, Nicole scooted over and waved into the phone. “Hey there, stranger.”

  Sean grinned and nodded. “Hey, Nicole.”

  Then he said hello to Leslie and Bradon when they introduced themselves.

  “Thanks again for doing this,” Cassie said.

  “No prob.” He released the kickstand on his iPhone and held up the Next Generation manuscript, explaining, “This was left in your sister’s former bookstore, Leslie. I did a deeper search after the girls left. Not sure how it leaked onto the net but somehow a record of not only the Broun name but the existence of this manuscript is in a database for anyone searching out the Scottish Broun clan.” He kept flipping the pages. “Seems you can pull it up if you’re researching the MacLomain clan too. Leads right to my bookstore.”

  Bradon made a strange sound but buried it in a shot of whisky.

  Cassie watched both Leslie and Bradon’s reaction closely. Besides the weird grunt from Bradon, neither was overly responsive. If anything, Leslie was playing it too cool, her expression unwavering.

  “Funny thing.” Sean set aside the manuscript. “You and your husband are mentioned in this…quite a bit.”

  “My cousin, McKayla wrote that.” Leslie’s tone was fairly curt. “Not only is it copyrighted but under contract with a publishing house.”

  Sean held up his hands and shook his head. “I’m not interested in cashing in on this thing.” His expression remained unreadable. “I showed you this to help out Cassie and Nicole. They’re interested in their heritage and I get that. Listen, now that I have confirmation that this belongs to you give me an address and I’ll mail you the manuscript.”

  Leslie's eyes narrowed. “How do I know you won’t copy it first?”

  “All right, lass.” Before Leslie could say another word, Bradon took the phone from her and left the room.

  Leslie scowled. Brows knitted together, she put on black-rimmed chic eyeglasses and turned on her tablet. Fingers flitting over the surface, she peered at the screen. “Who is this guy Sean again?”

  “He’s really nice. A fishing boat—” Nicole started.

  “We just met him and he’s been nothing but helpful,” Cassie cut in, frowning at Leslie. “My apologies if all of this, us, and Sean, is too much. That wasn’t my intention when I sought you out. I just really wanted to make contact with more Brouns. Sean was an innocent and remarkably helpful bystander.”

  “Innocent bystander,” Leslie murmured, eyes scanning the tablet. “Those don’t exist in my world.”

  Cassie put a hand over Leslie’s wrist, stopping her short. “But they do in mine and I’m asking you to respect that.”

  When Leslie’s incredulous eyes rose to hers, Cassie continued. “Please. History is everything to me. My family heritage more so.” She shook her head. “And you are part of my heritage. A person I’ve only just met but share blood with. That’s not only intense but very important to me.”

  Leslie eyed her for a long, uncomfortable moment befo
re she said, “You do realize that your blood is far removed from mine? And I can't imagine there's much Broun in you. But, as it turns out, I guess there's enough."

  What a bizarre thing to say. Cassie banked her rising aggravation at Leslie's somewhat callous declaration. “How could you possibly know that?”

  Leslie removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, whispering, “Because you couldn’t possibly be here otherwise.” She shook her head. “You’re just enough Broun to slip through the cracks. Like a sixth or seventh cousin removed.”

  “Whatever.” Nicole stood and shook her head, eyes on Cassie. “Let’s scoot, girl. I love that you brought us Brouns together, and I’m all about what you have to offer.” She shot Leslie a less-than-impressed look. “But apparently she’s not. We don’t deserve this elitist bullshit.”

  Leslie arched a disgruntled brow at Nicole. “Hell, we really are related, aren’t we.”

  Bradon returned and handed the phone to Cassie. “Please dinnae leave. It’s been a while since Leslie has…reconnected with blood.”

  “Too long,” Leslie muttered under her breath. Then she motioned with her hand at Nicole. “Sit. Bear with me. This is just a lot to take in is all.”

  Sean hung up and Cassie couldn’t help but wonder what he and Bradon talked about.

  “Yeah, all right.” Nicole sank back into her chair and took a swig of beer. As a general rule of thumb, her friend was quick to forgive unless she was truly pissed off.

  “What is a lot to take in?” Cassie asked Leslie in response to her statement. “I’m a little unclear why us showing up and wanting to connect with our lineage is getting such a strong reaction.”

  “I’m ordering take-out,” Bradon said, obviously trying to ease the tension. “What would you like?”

  Leslie’s eyes caught Cassie’s, a little lost, before she snapped out of it and looked between her and Nicole. “Again, I’m sorry if I’ve been weird. Just overtired. What do you guys like? Chinese? Pizza? Name it, we’ll get it.”