Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  Or so she kept trying to convince herself.

  At some point, she must have dozed off because when her eyes snapped open, Logan’s hand was wrapped around hers and the petunia as they slowed. Several other clansmen were mingled throughout; the color of their plaids different than the MacLomains.

  Brae crouched in front of a small stream and splashed water on her face. "'Tis best if a few of us break off and have the bulk follow a ways behind.” She looked over her shoulder at Logan. “‘Twould also be best to keep Cassie with the majority of your soldiers. I dinnae like the feel of these warriors we seek.”

  Logan swung down and pulled Cassie after him, hands at her waist while she adjusted to standing.

  “Nay, she must stay with me,” Logan said. “She is too important to this quest.”

  “Quest,” Brae murmured then stood, hands on her hips as she eyed them.

  “Aye, quest.” Logan urged Cassie to drink from the stream before he did the same then splashed water over his head.

  Grant joined them and finally gave Brae a hug as well. “Good to see ye, lass. I thought it best to let ye greet the youngin’s first.”

  The youngin’s of course being Logan’s cousins who now leaned against a nearby rock. Niall and Rònan were still ogling Brae for all they were worth. Darach, however, had his eyes trained on Cassie. She was sort of surprised he still seemed so interested despite Logan. Maybe he was not aware that she had slept with his cousin. Or maybe he didn’t care.

  “Yer aging well, ye are.” Brae grinned broadly at Grant. “How fares Aunt Sheila?”

  “Good, she’ll be eager to see ye if ye’ll be stopping by this visit, such as it is.”

  “Mayhap.” Brae’s eyes flickered over Logan. “‘Twould be nice if I could call this home and stay amongst ye all.”

  “Ye can lass,” Niall and Rònan said at the same time.

  Brae waved their words away, eyes meeting Logan’s when he stood. “Aye, only if the Laird sees through the promise he made me so long ago.”

  Promise?

  “Och, lass.” He chuckled, seemingly unaffected by the purposeful look in the Scotswoman’s eyes. “What were we, six winters when we made that promise? Besides, ye dinnae want to marry the likes of me when ye’ve half of Scotland’s lads for the taking.”

  “A promise is a promise, Logan MacLomain.” Brae clucked her tongue. “And yers was that I’d be yer lass if ye didnae marry yer betrothed, aye?”

  Oh, flipping wonderful. Cassie’s eyes went to Logan. How many women was he supposed to marry?

  “I couldnae handle the likes of ye, Brae Stewart.” Logan didn’t seem fazed in the least by her declaration as he offered a good-natured wink. “Considering I’d have to fight off my bloody cousins on a daily basis.”

  Brae quirked her lips at Niall and Rònan then shook her head. “See how hard ye make it for me to woo the Laird, ye beasties.”

  They offered wide smiles in return.

  “Besides,” Logan continued, pulling Cassie against his side. “My heart’s been taken by another.”

  Her face burned as everyone reacted to that. Brae’s eyes narrowed slightly. Grant grunted and muttered something. Darach’s usual happy demeanor fell flat. Rònan nudged Niall and cracked a grin. “So he’s already had her then, aye?”

  Niall smirked. “Aye, ‘twas no quiet exchange either.”

  “Enough,” Logan said, glowering at them.

  She wished a sinkhole would open up and swallow her whole. The quicker, the better.

  Apparently done with pursuing Logan for the moment, Brae asked anyone willing to answer, “How fares Uncle Bradon?” She pulled a healthy pink rose from her satchel. “When ye see him be sure to tell him his Brae still carries the rose he gave me when I was a wee bairn and he and Aunt Leslie visited the Stewart Castle.”

  “He’s well,” Darach said before he strode off.

  That must have been part of Leslie and Bradon’s adventure. Still so strange to realize they had been here before her. And it seemed preserving flowers was a MacLomain wizard trait.

  Machara joined them and stretched before she crouched and splashed water on her face. Save being tossed over a horse by the woman, Cassie had barely seen her on the journey. She got the feeling Machara liked to do her own thing. Probably best considering the friction that could snap to life between her and Logan.

  Machara stood and assuaged Brae's earlier concern. “I’ll protect Cassie when we pursue the enemy so ye need not worry.”

  “Aye, ‘tis good that,” Brae said with humor. “Because last I remember ye wouldnae protect anything that made yer Laird happy.”

  Machara shrugged. “That hasnae changed any. But I will always protect the MacLomain chieftain and sometimes ‘tis best to do that by protecting who he might worry over when battling.”

  “So now that we’ve established all that,” Grant said, a less-than-impressed octave to his voice. “‘Tis time to know why you’re here, Brae.”

  “‘Tis simple that,” Brae responded. “Scotland’s future king is in trouble, is he not?”

  “Aye, but how did ye know that?”

  “Ye forget that my Da’s a wizard and my Ma’s a mystic.” Brae shrugged. “So it cannae be a big surprise that they knew of something so important happening.”

  “Eighty years in their future,” Grant said. “Was it Adlin that told them then?”

  “I dinnae think so.” Brae swung onto her horse. “I havnae seen him in years.”

  “That means nothing.” Grant’s horse fell in beside Brae’s as Logan pulled Cassie onto his and followed.

  “So what precisely did yer parents tell ye?” Grant continued.

  “Just that the future king o’ Scotland was in jeopardy and I needed to help the MacLomains save him.”

  “So why was it ye didnae come straight away to the MacLomain castle?”

  “‘Twas just poor timing I suppose,” she said. “By the time I got here he had already been taken. It made more sense to pursue him, aye?”

  “Aye, mayhap,” Grant murmured.

  Cassie got the sense Brae was not being entirely truthful and suspected Grant felt the same way. Though the two continued to converse, their words were too soft to hear. After a while, Rònan fell in beside her and Logan. Any humor he’d entertained at the stream had vanished. Instead, there was a hard set to his jaw as he scanned the forest ahead. “I get an odd sense about all of this, cousin.”

  “Aye,” Logan replied. “What does your dragon tell you?”

  “That this kidnapping doesnae only have to do with Robert but with the MacLomains and mayhap even my MacLeods.”

  Cassie felt Logan tense. “But not the Hamilton’s?”

  “‘Tis hard to say for sure but the dragon within is restless. That means its immediate kin is in harm’s way.” Rònan’s brows lowered and his lips pulled down. “And I am half MacLeod and half MacLomain. Not Hamilton.”

  “What make you then of the mention of the oak ford?” Logan’s tone shifted. “After all, ‘tis an oak at the heart of your history. Two oaks at that. Though not technically at a ford, they were bloody close to a waterfall.”

  “I dinnae like it.” Rònan shook his head. “Yet we are heading in the opposite direction of the baby oak’s mother.”

  Though it probably wasn’t the best timing, Cassie could not hold her tongue any longer as she looked at Rònan. “So we’re heading away from the baby oak as well?”

  He shook his head. “Nay, the baby oak is the tree you saw outside the MacLomain castle.”

  “So the baby oak and the mother oak obviously aren’t near one another,” she said. “So someone transplanted the small oak then?”

  “Nay,” Logan said. “‘Twas magic that moved it.”

  Amazing. “Why?”

  “Likely because my Ma wanted her kin well protected,” Rònan said. “That oak was born of an acorn from the mother oak, a tree brought here from Ireland by the Celtic gods.” He nodded at Brae, eyes flickering to Log
an. “There is something more to her being here as well. Something to do with those rings.”

  “Aye,” Logan murmured.

  “What rings?” Cassie held up her hand. “This ring?”

  “Aye,” Logan said. “‘Twas the coupling of Brae’s parents beneath the mother oak with the help of the god Fionn Mac Cumhail that first ignited the power of the original Claddagh rings. Some have long speculated that Brae herself might have been conceived that verra day.”

  “And if that is the case then ‘tis hard to know what gifts Brae might possess,” Rònan said.

  “That’s incredible,” Cassie said. “But wouldn’t you guys, wizards…” She looked at Rònan. “And dragon shifters be able to sense what magic she has?” She nodded ahead. “If no one else can, Grant should be able to right?”

  “Though he didnae take place in the intimate sense, a Celtic god was involved,” Logan said. “Powers such as that lying dormant in a lass would be undetectable by even the most powerful of wizards and dragon-shifters alike. ‘Tis verra likely that Brae herself wouldnae even know.”

  “I'll be damned,” she murmured.

  “Interesting that her twin brother, Cullen isnae along with Brae for something so important,” Logan mentioned.

  Rònan’s eyes were on Brae’s back. This time there was no lust in their brilliant green depths but a smidge of wariness. “The last I knew, the one sibling didnae do much without the other.”

  “Aye.” Logan’s arm tightened slightly around Cassie as though he needed her closer. “Nor has she mentioned him.”

  “You can be sure Grant’s asking about him.”

  The men quieted after that, but Cassie felt the tension that settled over them. As far as she could tell only twenty or so men stayed with them as the rest fell behind. Yet if there was one thing she had learned it was that Logan’s men always had an eye on him whether or not they could be seen.

  Petunia tucked safely away in her satchel, she kept twisting the ring on her finger. It was hard to imagine how it had come into creation. This brought her mind back to the third ring that had been in the box at the Colonial in New Hampshire. She looked at Logan. “You spoke of a Celtic god being present when the three rings were created. What of the fourth? Was there a druidess there as well?”

  “Nay, as the story is told and ‘tis truly one I thought simply folklore, the ring was given to Chiomara the druidess after she and King Erc gave up their unborn child, Adlin MacLomain, to the goddess Brigit. A bairn who was conceived beneath the mother oak when it was still in Ireland.” Logan sounded troubled. “I cannae imagine the ring's power or why it has appeared alongside the others.”

  Absolutely baffling.

  All of this.

  From the gods to the rings to the magic.

  She again eyed the ring, trying to quell anxiety. How was she part of all this? Sure, she could see and hear Robert but how did it relate to the ring? Why was she so privileged to be wearing it? Because that’s how she felt. Though nervous about its meaning, she was definitely honored. But for what, she had no idea.

  Did she want it to somehow proclaim she was supposed to be with Logan? Yes…and no. Yes, because she had never met another like him and would love to spend her life getting to know him better. No, because despite what he said and despite her determination to be otherwise, she still worried about being a burden after she went blind.

  When Grant slowed his horse, Logan and his cousins joined the arch-wizard. All swung down from their mounts as Logan pulled her off his. Expressions stern, everyone started strapping on weapons.

  Logan wrapped her hand around the hilt of a dagger, his eyes never more serious. “Niall and I have taught you how to use this but ‘tis best that you try to stay near Machara and out of harm’s way. If you have to use it, do so calmly. The enemy will take advantage of any weakness they see in your eyes.” He wrapped his hand more firmly around hers and the hilt, eyes unwavering. “You think only of your need to set Robert free. Draw on that to see you through any strife that might arise. He is what you do this for, aye?”

  “Yes,” she said as firmly as she could manage, eyes dropping to the blade.

  Logan tilted up her chin until their eyes locked again. “Do not let anything else distract you. Not me, Grant, Darach, nobody. We can take care of ourselves and most certainly you if we’re able. Do you ken?” His thumb brushed over her chin. “Protect your own life first so that you might better protect the Bruce.”

  “Okay,” she whispered but knew he needed to hear a stronger response so nodded and mustered all the courage she had. “I’ll keep a level head.”

  Logan’s eyes searched hers for a long moment before he nodded and pulled away. Machara joined them then everything after that became a quiet unit of men communicating not with words but gestures. The area of woods they were in was chopped up by numerous huge stones and fairly steep inclines. Her impression was that they weren’t all that far away from a mountain but because of the tree cover it was hard to tell.

  Machara gestured that Cassie stay close as they veered up onto a ledge that ran horizontally to a heavy row of shrubbery. Logan and his cousins ducked down the other side and vanished into the trees. The women only traveled for a few more minutes over rocky ground before Machara crouched and pulled Cassie to her side. She put a finger to her lips and pointed down.

  A long trail of heavily armed men on horseback trudged through a shallow valley thick with golden pine needles and trees. Her eyes locked on the small boy with a sack over his head.

  Robert.

  Eager to get to him, she started to stand, but Machara pulled her down, fixed her with a deadly stare, and shook her head. Cassie nodded and eyed the group more closely. As far as she could tell, there were at least thirty men riding in pairs and possibly more ahead. She would swear that Robert was still on the man’s horse she had seen in her vision. What she wouldn’t do to be able to communicate with him now. To let him know that they were here and he would be all right.

  The enemy appeared unaware that they were likely surrounded but then it seemed Logan and his cousins were very good at stealth. As much as she peered at the surrounding forest, she saw no one. All was quiet save the chirping of birds. So softly she barely heard her, Machara pulled free a bow and cocked an arrow, eyes narrowed on the enemy.

  Heart hammering, Cassie barely drew a breath. What if Robert got hurt during the attack? Logan had told her to keep him in mind but had never mentioned who precisely would be focusing on the child when the shit hit the fan. Wouldn’t the men be battling it out with the enemy? Wouldn’t that leave Robert vulnerable?

  There was little time to further contemplate before arrows whistled through the air. Thump. Thump. Thump. Three men fell. Then everything happened so fast she could barely take it in. Though caught unaware, the enemy was clearly experienced as they quickly took up formation and met Logan and his warriors in a clash of blades.

  Meanwhile, Machara started to unleash arrows. Cassie realized she was hitting anyone who came too close to Logan without him being aware. Yet there seemed to be few of those. Like his cousins, he was ferocious as he swung his sword and cut down several. However, unlike his cousins, he had an almost calm, methodical way of killing. It was as if he thought about exactly how he intended to kill the next man while still fighting his current prey.

  As she had figured might be the case, there were a whole lot more of the enemy than could initially be seen. Rònan and Niall seemed to work as a pair, slicing and dicing too many warriors to count. Out of all of them, Darach appeared to have the most finesse. If that word could be applied to such brutal battling. His method almost seemed like a dance as he ducked and swiped his leg, knocking a man off his feet while running his dagger through another.

  She had never seen so much blood and death as cries rang out. Palms slick, she tried to follow everything that was happening, but there was too much activity. This was unlike anything she had seen on television. You didn’t hear the gurgles of men
with slashed throats or smell the tang of blood and the pungent odor of loosened feces wafting on the wind. You didn’t hear the murmurs to God before men’s eyes glazed over or hear the crack of bones when someone was crushed beneath a horse.

  Heart in her throat, body shaking, Cassie’s eyes were not on the other men long. No, they were inevitably drawn back to Logan. Stark fear for him had her mouth dry and heart nearly beating out of her chest. Yet she had assured him she would remain calm and focused.

  And she would.

  Had to.

  So she set aside concern for Logan and kept her eyes locked on little Robert. The warrior he was riding with was well protected by his fellowmen as he spurred his horse and raced into the forest. At the same time, an onslaught of the enemy raced in from where Robert’s captor had vanished.

  Hundreds of them.

  “Bloody hell,” Machara muttered under her breath as she shot arrow after arrow. “‘Tis an ambush on an ambush.”

  The MacLomain warriors who had been following at a distance finally arrived, rushing down into the maelstrom of war. But God, were there enough? Machara was about to shoot off another arrow when there was a flurry of activity behind them.

  The Scotswoman spun fast, narrowed her eyes and shot. Arrow lodged in his gut, a man fell to his knees but not before he whipped a dagger at Cassie. She barely processed what was happening until Machara pushed her out of the way and took the blade in her shoulder.

  More of the enemy rushed forward. Believe it or not, the Scotswoman was by no means defeated by the dagger. Pulling it free with a grunt, she tossed it aside and started clashing swords with a man, all the while standing in front of Cassie.

  “He wants the one with the sight,” the enemy spat to his fellow warriors as he and Machara went at it.

  The one with the sight? He couldn’t possibly be talking about her could he?

  Where they currently stood, Cassie was nearing the edge of a small cliff with about a fifteen-foot drop. She peered over and knew going that way would mean a few broken bones. Her eyes swept over the area before she spied a small path. It was steep, but definitely a means out of here. Not that she intended to take it. No way. Not if it meant leaving Machara alone to fight one, two, three, nope, here came a fourth. Too many men.