by Pam Binder
Amber took a deep breath. At least her aunt hadn’t called America “the Colonies.”
“Are you telling me that immortality is an easy thing to understand, just because Scotland has been around since before Rome invaded the place?“
“Precisely, and there are legends to prove it. There are stories of clans who had the gift of long life that date back to the Celts, and beyond.”
Sheets of gray rain washed against the window. In the hall, the grandfather clock struck four times. The chimes vibrated through the snug cottage. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll ask you again. Do you love him?” Amber set the pan with the scorched fudge in the sink. “I can’t talk about this right now.” She turned the water on to soak the pan. “Raspberry chocolate butter creams and chocolate mousse are in the refrigerator. Chocolate chip cookies are cooling on the rack and there are brownies in the oven. They should be ready in about ten minutes. And, of course, the fudge. In the morning I’ll make a chocolate layer cake. What do you think?”
Aunt Dora brushed imaginary crumbs off her flannel sleeve. “I remember at least two other times my kitchen was reduced to such a state. Chocolate was the main ingredient then as well. However, this time you’ve really outdone yourself. What I think is that you have no business traveling back to the States when you have a perfectly good man who, shall we say, has passed the test of time right here. And I think you answered my question.”
Amber turned over in her bed. Her aunt had agreed that she could resume her marathon baking spree in the morning. But Amber couldn’t sleep. The light of the moon cast a soft glow across her bed. She looked at the florescent numbers on the clock. 5:00 A.M. Amber wondered if Lachlan had the same problem.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. She certainly hoped so. Maybe it didn’t matter to him that she’d grow old and he wouldn’t, but it bugged the hell out of her.
A floorboard creaked. It was probably Missy, Aunt Dora’s cat, exploring the house again. Amber closed her eyes and pulled the covers over her shoulder. She hear the sound again. This time it seemed to be coming from inside her room. That was odd. Usually Missy announced her entrance with a loud meow.
She felt a hand over her mouth and the point of a knife touch her throat. Startled, she jumped. Her heart raced. Sharp pain shot through her as the blade pricked her skin. She grabbed for the hand that held her. A man stood over her, blocking the light from the moon. His features were unclear in the dark shadows.
He pressed the blade against her skin. “Scream and I’ll slice your throat as easy as warm butter. The phone line’s cut, don’t get any smart ideas.”
Amber froze. The voice was familiar. Her thoughts focused on her aunt. She’d better be all right.
The man removed the knife from her neck and stared at her.
She rubbed her throat. “Who are you and what do you want?” She sat up, grateful she slept in sweats, and peered at her assailant in the shadows. Medium build and height.
He flicked on the switch to the lamp beside her bed. “Don’t you recognize me?”
She stiffened as memories flooded back. “Bartholomew.” She grabbed the lamp and threw it at him. “You pushed me in the loch.”
He ducked. “Clever girl.”
She remembered him coming toward her on the cliff. His tunic had been soaked with blood. “Why?”
His breath smelled like stale beer. “Because Lachlan killed my brother and I wanted him to suffer. I suspected you might survive and return to your own time. So I waited. When I read about your miraculous rescue by the famous Professor MacAlpin, I knew I had a second chance. I’m going to kill you in front of Lachlan and then cut out his heart.”
Amber shrank against the headboard. She had to warn Lachlan.
“You, lady, are bait. Nothing more. They say the great warrior, Lachlan MacAlpin, will no longer raise a sword to fight. That will change.” His laughter was high-pitched. “Cooperate and I’ll spare the old woman sleeping in the next room.”
He turned the knife in his hand. The blade caught the light from the window. “Don’t cause me any trouble.” He reached behind Amber for her pillow and stabbed it several times. White feathers floated through the air. “You can be in one piece when I present you to Lachlan or many. Either way it will have the effect I need. Get dressed. We journey to Loch Ness.”
“Why there?”
He twisted the knife in his hand. “Because that is where the great Lachlan MacAlpin will be. I sent him a message that I was using underwater bombs to kill the Guardian.”
Amber’s legs trembled beneath her. They barely held her weight. She scrambled off the bed. Her fingers felt stiff as she pulled on a sweater. She took a deep breath. She needed to remain calm if she and her aunt were going to survive. Her hands shook as she reached for her shoes. Stay calm, she repeated over and over to herself. Think.
She stood. “I have to leave Aunt Dora a note. She’ll be worried and might call the police.”
He stepped toward her and grabbed her arm. “Write it plain.”
Amber grabbed a pen and an envelope from the dresser.
Aunt Dora,
I’ve gone for a swim in the loch, be back in a few hours.
Love, Amber
Jostled into the backseat of a car, which was badly in need of a tune-up, Amber lay on her stomach. Her hands were tied behind her and her mouth was gagged. Bartholomew was a dead man. Her aunt would understand the hidden message in her note. She had to.
Amber felt like the classic victim in a B movie and everyone knew how those turned out. To top off this perfect evening, her fingers felt numb, her feet were freezing, and her nose itched.
The car stopped abruptly and pitched her forward. She rolled against the back of the front seat, ending up on the floor. The words “black-and-blue” were added to her list. Bartholomew got out of the car and opened the backseat door. His big, meaty hand reached toward her. She pulled against the rope that tied her hands. Her wrists burned, but the rope held.
He grabbed her shoulders. “Glad you didn’t try to escape.”
If Amber hadn’t been gagged, she’d tell him how dumb that was. She might be in love with an immortal, but she wasn’t crazy. Although, under the circumstances, it might have helped.
Yanking her out of the car, he caused her to stumble forward, lose her balance and fall to the hard ground. A pain shuddered through her arm. Trying to block out the sensation, she rolled to a kneeling position and looked over at Bartholomew. She was no longer afraid of him. Anger had replaced the fear. She would not allow him to use her as bait to catch Lachlan.
She struggled to her feet and searched the water for signs of Lachlan. Nothing but black shadows. Maybe he’d already left. And what of the Guardian? Ripples spread across the loch as a person emerged from the water. She recognized the way the man moved. She smiled. It was her knight in shining armor. Lachlan peeled off the scuba mask and slowly approached the shore. She had to do something. Warn him somehow.
Bartholomew’s back was to her. Obviously he felt she was no threat. That was a mistake. Having a younger brother had its advantages. Amber had learned how to hit and run. She slammed into him with her shoulder.
He yelled and turned on her, but she ducked out of his reach and started to run. She knew she couldn’t get away, but it didn’t matter. She had accomplished her goal, Lachlan wouldn’t be caught off guard. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lachlan pause and look in their direction.
Bartholomew caught her and pressed his blade against her throat. “No more of that.” He began to drag her toward the shore. His voice sent a shiver down her spine. “MacAlpin, I’ve brought you a gift.”
Lachlan’s face was lost in the shadows. She couldn’t make out his expression, but the tone of his voice was clear.
“Let her go.”
Bartholomew pulled her closer. “I’m here to settle a score.”
Lachlan removed his gloves and tossed them to the g
round. “It has been four hundred years. What has taken you so long?”
Amber could feel the tension in the man build as his arm tightened around her. Terrific. While Lachlan was deliberately trying to make him mad, Bartholomew was squeezing her to death. She struggled to pull free and felt the knife at her cheek.
“Easy does it, little lady.”
An icy breeze blew over the water as Amber felt the cold steel against her face. She looked over at Lachlan. He had narrowed the distance between them.
Bartholomew’s voice was a sneer. I’m told you are no longer the great warrior. The fight has gone out of you.“
“Not the fight, Bartholomew, title bloodlust.”
“Ah, so the legend is true. I thought as much. It’s why I’ve brought the woman.”
“If you know the legend, then you know I will not draw a blade against you.”
“You would watch her die, then?”
The muscles in Lachlan’s face tightened. “Leave her.”
“In good time. She’s the reason you’ve given up the sword and for her sake you will embrace it once again. Or you shall see her die, by inches.”
Lachlan walked forward slowly. “It would not be wise to threaten me.”
They were only separated by a couple of feet. Amber felt Bartholomew tremble. Without warning
the man pushed her to the ground. She scrambled out of the way, focusing on Lachlan. His hands were loose at his sides. He circled Bartholomew as a predator would its prey, a smile curled at the corner of his lips. His eyes seemed to pin Bartholomew in place, like a butterfly in a display case.
Lachlan felt the need to fight surge through him. He ducked as his opponent swung his weapon. If he had a sword in his hand, Bartholomew’s blood would be spilling to the ground. He could feel Amber’s love pour over him, cooling the bloodlust that pumped through his veins. He would not kill this man. He would turn him over to the Council, for judgment.
He doubled up his fist and caught Bartholomew on the chin. He felt the jawbone crunch beneath his blow. The man stumbled back before regaining his balance. Bartholomew steadied himself, roared and charged. Lachlan sidestepped. The schoolmaster tripped and fell to the ground. Lachlan bent down, wrenched the blade out of Bartholomew’s grasp and threw it out over Loch Ness. It cut through the water and disappeared from sight.
Bartholomew struggled to his feet. “What have you done?”
“Prevented needless bloodshed.”
“You’ve just prolonged the inevitable.” Bartholomew spit blood on the ground at Lachlan’s feet.
Lachlan willed his anger under control. The clear image of Bartholomew in a pool of his own blood flashed before him. He pushed the vision from his mind. “I will not fight you with sword.”
“Then what I’ve heard is true.”
Lachlan folded his arms across his chest. “Aye, it is true and more. If it is a fight you seek, you will not
find one with me. The Council meets in ten days. Your old room at Urquhart is still intact and awaits you.“
“You will have to kill me.”
A twig snapped nearby as someone approached. It was Angus.
Lachlan’s friend placed a heavy hand on Bartholomew’s shoulder. “That can be arranged.”
Lachlan laughed and helped Amber to her feet. “Angus, I am glad you ignored my orders. What kept you?” He removed her gag and the rope around her hands.
Amber rubbed her wrists. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
Angus chuckled. “I received a frantic telephone call from Aunt Dora. It seems she had to place the call at a neighbor’s. Something about her niece swimming in Loch Ness.” He smiled. “Took me a while to calm her down. Besides you two were doing just fine on your own. I didn’t want to interfere. Now, I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, while Gavin and I see to Bartholomew’s needs.”
Moonlight spread its glow over the shore and the lyrical sound of bagpipes drifted toward him as he gathered her in his arms.
She pulled away. “Lachlan, the Guardian… Bartholomew said…”
Lachlan kissed the tip of her nose. “Everything is as it should be. It was merely a way to lure me to Loch Ness.”
“I’m glad the Guardian is all right. If it weren’t for him, we never would have met.” She shivered and drew closer against him. “I was afraid for you.”
“I know, and I for you.”
“I thought Bartholomew would take you from me.”
“It is over.”
Her voice trembled. “I want whatever time we have together, but promise me one tiling…” She hesitated. “… I will grow old, while you stay the way you are. Promise me you’ll leave while you still love me.”
Lachlan brushed the hair behind her ear. “I have waited for you for four hundred years. What sustained me was not the image of your physical form, beyond perfection though it might be, but the look in your eyes when you gazed into my heart, and discovered the man I wanted to become. I will not leave you, Amber MacPhee. You are a part of me.”
Tears glistened on her lashes as she pulled him toward her and kissed him. She smiled against his mouth and whispered, “Our love is forever.”
He nodded. “Aye.”
“I like that, though it has taken me a long time to accept it. However, that brings up an interesting question. What if I’m not in love with you, but with the medieval world I dropped into, complete with a battle-scarred castle, wolfhounds and a valiant warrior. And you, once you get to know me in my natural habitat, may feel differently as well.”
The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile as he held out his hand to her. “I am in love with a logical woman. A more fearsome foe than Subedei’s mercenaries. But as I prevailed once, so will I again. I’m the same man in any century and it is long past time to prove this.”
She snuggled against him. “It will be like starting over.”
“Am I to court you anew?”
Amber laughed. “Aye.”