Evander (Immortal Highlander Book 3): A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Hazel Hunter

  He wanted to ask them both if they knew Rachel, but shadows began filling the cave. The warband made way for a large group of druids lead by Cailean Lusk and Bhaltair Flen, who came to surround Raen, Diana and Evander. Beyond them Evander could see clansmen helping the magic folk drag their boats out of the water.

  “Master Flen, Ovate Lusk,” Raen said. He took the dagger from his wife, removed it from Evander’s neck, and shoved him down on his knees. “Who summoned you here?”

  “He did,” Cailean said and nodded to Evander. “He sent a message by bird from a village fair not far from here. It took little effort for us to track him.”

  Bhaltair Flen came over Evander, his hair standing like a pale halo around his plump face.

  “’Tis been a good while, Master Talorc. As soon as you broke your vow to deliver Mistress Ingram, we felt obliged to come and rescue her from you. Where is she?”

  “The legion has her,” he said and nodded toward the black ship. “On the boat.”

  “You delivered her to the undead?” the old druid exclaimed. He raised his arm, as his fist began to glow. “’Twill be the last of your betrayals.”

  “Turn off the nite-light, Grandpa,” Diana said and caught Bhaltair’s arm and lowered it. “We can lower the boom later. We don’t want the bad guys to find out we’re here.”

  “The legion stole her from me at the fair,” Evander told the old man. “I have been trying to protect–”

  A huge boot filled his face, and kicked him over onto his side. Tormod Liefson appeared over him, his hands fisted and his expression rife with disgust.

  “Seoc is gone. The shame you brought on him was so great he couldnae bear it. He gave himself to the legion in battle.” The Norseman leaned over. “’Tis for the suffering you caused him that I’ll end you, and I’ll no’ hurry it, you gutless worm.”

  Cailean surged forward. “Master Liefson, dinnae resort to violence.”

  “I wasnae always a map maker, Ovate,” Tormod said. His pale eyes gleamed as he regarded Evander. “Nor have I forgot how we Viking deal with betrayers.”

  Evander managed to raise himself back on his knees, and glanced around at the faces glowering at him. It made him sick to think of Seoc dead, but being held in such contempt by the clan gnawed just as deeply at his insides. For the first time Evander saw what he had lost when he’d run off with Fiona. Few of the McDonnels had cared much for him when he served as the laird’s seneschal, but they had been his family. Dying might be the only way he could make amends, but before he faced the consequences he had to do what he could to save his lady.

  “The lady from the grove is named Rachel Ingram,” he told Bhaltair. “She is druid kind, with a powerful gift. I came here to take her back from the undead.” He saw Lachlan walking into the cave, and shifted his gaze to Diana. “Release me and I will. Please, I beg you.”

  “Begging is good. We like begging.” The tall woman crouched down in front of him. “Let’s hear more about Rachel’s ability. What exactly can she do?”

  “She can hear thoughts, see memories and learn any secret hidden in the mind. She can read anyone.” He braced his shoulders against the cave wall. “Since she became my mate she has seen everything in my head.”

  She recoiled. “You sick son of a bitch. You’re sleeping with her?”

  “She embraced the choice willingly.” For once he let his emotions show as he glanced down at Diana’s fist. “I saw Aber’s mark on your palm. You’ve mated, so you ken ’tis more than facking. ’Tis love.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” Some of the lines around her mouth eased away. “Did they grab her because of her power, or to get to you?”

  “I cannae tell you. They saw me take her from the grove, and somehow tracked us here.” He lowered his voice. “If I may speak with the laird, Mistress Aber, I ken how to save her.”

  “Mistress Aber makes me think I’m cheating on myself with my husband. Call me Diana.” She looked up at Raen, who nodded. “My lord,” she called out. “You should hear what he has to say.”

  The McDonnels moved aside as Lachlan came and jerked Evander up onto his feet. In his dark eyes was as much hurt as anger.

  “Tell me.”

  “I ken that my sentence is death. On my honor I offer you my life, willingly, if you will give me the chance to take Rachel from the black ship.” He saw the laird’s expression darken. “She doesnae ken you or the clan, nor any of you her, but we are mated. She loves me. When I am close, she will hear my thoughts. I’ll tell her to jump overboard, into my arms.”

  Lachlan released him. “The lady trusts you this much?”

  “Aye. Once I have her, ’twill take me only another moment to come to shore and bring her to you.” When Lachlan didn’t respond, he said, “If no’ for me, then for the clan. She has the ability to see into any mind. I’ve no doubt she has all my knowledge of Dun Aran.”

  The laird’s nostrils flared. “Neac. Come here.”

  The chieftain appeared beside him, and drew his double-headed axe.

  “Permit me the pleasure of beheading this turncoat, my lord. ’Twould be a great favor.”

  One of the clansmen on watch rushed into the cave and came directly to Lachlan.

  “My lord, we’ve sighted another black ship approaching.”

  Lachlan gestured for Raen. “Release him. Cailean, a word.”

  The bodyguard drew a dagger, hesitating as he eyed Evander’s blood-streaked throat, and then stepped behind him and cut through the rope.

  “We are no’ finished,” Raen murmured.

  Evander nodded, and accompanied the laird, the chieftain and the druid out of the cave and down to the sea columns, where he saw the distant shape of the second black ship headed directly for the first.

  “She’s a brave lass, my lord,” Evander said. “She’ll no’ tell them of Dun Aran.”

  “When they enthrall her,” Neac said, “she’ll lead them to our facking front gates.” He then told him in terse terms about how the undead had discovered how to turn mortal victims into devoted slaves who would do anything, even kill, for them. “We dinnae ken how they do it, but the only manner in which to break their hold is to end the undead master. Unless we ken that we have, all mortal captives are considered undead allies. Like you, Talorc.”

  “I never helped the legion,” Evander said as he dodged Neac’s huge fist and stepped out of his reach. “I but took Fiona away. We lived along the highlands here, where no one could find us, until she–”

  “Chieftain Uthar, please,” Cailean said. As Neac came at Evander, the druid stepped between them. “Let the man have his say. ’Tis the last he will.”

  “Fiona died of pox. I buried her in the grove.” Evander looked at Lachlan. “’Tis why this happened. I went there often to visit her grave. That night, I found Rachel clawing her way out of it. Somehow they changed places, but Rachel was still alive when she was put in the ground.”

  All three men exchanged long looks.

  “We thought as much,” the laird said. “Raen found your buckler.”

  He wished he could explain more, but he knew every moment he delayed Rachel could be suffering all manner of horrors.

  “’Tis done,” he said and nodded toward the anchored ship. “May I go to her?”

  “No’ alone,” Lachlan said. “You’ll take the druids’ boats out to the ship. No one is to use water bonding. Cailean, we’ll need you and yours to go first, and create a distraction so that Evander and the men may approach without notice and try his scheme. If it doesnae succeed, the warband is to board her and attack the crew.”

  Neac eyed the horizon. “’Twould be better to wait until dawn for a boarding strike.”

  “They’ll no’ be expecting the attack,” the laird said. “Either or both ships may weigh anchor whenever they please and sail off in the dark. It must be now.” He paused and glanced at each of them. “I want a moment alone with Evander.”

  Neac didn’t look happy, and Cailean appeared faintly al
armed, but together they trudged back up to the cave.

  “The ships are black because they’ve been painted with pitch,” Lachlan said. “Likely they did it to keep from being sighted by the merchants they attack, and to seal the upper decks against sunlight. ’Twas a foolish mistake, but then they’ve never battled on the sea. They dinnae ken the reason why we Pritani never pitched our boats.”

  Evander eyed the anchored ship. “They’ve always fought on land.”

  “Aye,” Lachlan said and took a tightly-sewn pouch from his belt, and handed it to him. “Do you recall what the Vikings did during the Siege of Paris?”

  Evander checked the contents before tying it to his belt. “I’ll see to it, my lord, as soon as I have my lady safe.”

  “You’ll hand her off to Cailean, lad,” the laird said. “For you’ll no’ be coming back with her. This is what you’ll do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  RACHEL WATCHED LUCANUS walk along the side of the ship like a caged feline, his thoughts becoming more savagely impatient by the minute. After stopping the rapes, he’d kept her with him, tying her hands together and shoving her to sit in a space between two water barrels. The stink of the dense black paint they’d used on everything gave her a low-grade headache, and she felt so thirsty she wanted to stick her head in one of the barrels.

  A few undead crewmen remained on deck, but none of them paid any attention to her as they stood guard at various positions. Their thoughts only added to her general misery.

  The optio is too soft on the captives. That guard imagined beating the women until their bones fractured. I would not be.

  Another relived past rapes while alternating with sullen repeats of We always fuck the fresh ones when we feed.

  The cold night wind gradually dropped to an icy breeze, but the air grew so cold Rachel’s arms and legs grew numb. She huddled in an attempt to preserve what body heat she had left, and nearly groaned when she saw tiny white flecks spiraling down on the ship’s blackened planks. If it snowed too hard she’d freeze to death, which, given her current situation, wouldn’t be as horrible a way to go.

  Evander might not find her. She almost hoped he wouldn’t now. He couldn’t take on an entire ship of undead. A crackle of heat spread across her left breast, and she pressed her stiff hand over the spot to feel her ink moving over her skin.

  Okay, she thought to her mating mark, so maybe he can. It’ll all be for nothing if I’m frozen to death.

  As if he could read her mind, Lucanus hurried over to yank her to her feet, and pointed to another black ship in the distance.

  “The tribune has come, Rachel Ingram,” he said and caught her as her knees buckled. “What is the matter?”

  She couldn’t tell him she’d heard Evander say I’m coming for you, my love inside her mind, or that she’d deliberately fallen to make herself appear weaker than she was.

  “It’s so…so cold,” she stammered. “I…I can’t feel my feet.”

  “Since the curse we no longer grow hot or cold.” The optio removed his cloak and wrapped it around her before he sat her down on a crate near the railings. He hesitated for a long moment before he untied her hands. “When the tribune comes, you must show respect. Answer his questions, and do not anger him. I think he will give you to me.” He touched her shoulder. “I know you do not want this, but I am better than the others, Rachel Ingram. I will not feed on you. I will treat you as I did Petronia.”

  His desire for her poured into her mind again, but it had changed. Lucanus hadn’t felt love since he’d been changed into a blood-drinker. When she’d reminded him of his wife he’d remembered his mortal life. He really believed that if he behaved the same way with Rachel that she would come to love him, as Petronia had. Now she had to lie and make him believe that she would.

  “Thank you, Optio,” Rachel said and forced her chapped lips into what she hoped was a convincing smile. “I’ll do exactly as you say.”

  Lucanus crouched down in front of her, and drew her hands to his lips.

  “We will be good together. I swear it.”

  Rachel read his desire for more of a show of feeling from her, so she took a deep breath, leaned forward and brushed her lips against his knuckles.

  He dragged her forward until his mouth was only a breath from hers.

  “Do you desire me, Rachel Ingram?”

  The way he called her by her full name was starting to wear on her. So was his breath, which smelled like burnt tinfoil.

  “I hardly know you, Optio, but I would like the chance to be with you.” She ducked her head to look modest, and so he wouldn’t be tempted to kiss her. “To be honest, I haven’t been with a man yet, so I’m a little shy.”

  Just as she guessed, the prospect of taking her non-existent virginity excited him even more. But his gush of fantasies about having sex with her made her stomach churn.

  “I must see to the men now,” Lucanus told her. “Stay here and wait for me, my lovely one.”

  As soon as he moved away and shouted orders for the sentries to prepare for the tribune’s arrival, Rachel closed her eyes so she could listen for Evander again. She knew he couldn’t hear her, but that didn’t stop her.

  Please, please hurry. The tribune is coming for me, and if you don’t get here first I’m going to jump into the water and let myself sink to the bottom.

  Rachel. Evander’s voice seemed to resonate through her whole body. I am waiting in the water. When the undead become diverted, you must jump off the port side, toward the bow. I will catch you, and my friends will take you back to shore.

  Rachel stared across the deck at the other side of the ship, and then glanced at Lucanus. Knowing Evander was so close made her want to hurl herself over the side immediately, but she’d never make it past the sentry standing guard.

  “Halo to the ship,” a mellow voice called out just beneath her.

  Rachel leaned over to see two small boats, each being rowed by men in long, dark robes. One with a boyish face was standing and waving at the undead.

  “We’re sinking,” the young man called up to Lucanus. “We willnae make it back to shore, and we cannae swim. Will you help us?”

  Rachel waited as one by one the sentries came over to join Lucanus on the starboard side and fling down ropes to the robed men. When the way was finally clear, she lunged up from the crate and ran.

  None of the undead grabbed her. Instead she slipped on the snowy deck and fell, skidding painfully across the slush-covered planks to stop short of the port side by a foot. Desperately she pushed herself up, and hurled herself at the rails, only to be seized from behind by hard, cold hands.

  “This is your gratitude?” Lucanus said against her ear, his rage scalding her mind as his grip bruised her flesh. “You are a witch.” He dragged her back from the side, and swung around to shout to the sentries, “Defendi altus. Repulsus.”

  Rachel struggled against him as he hauled her back to the starboard, where she saw two empty boats floating beside the ship, and the looming shadow of something much larger. She looked over and shrieked as the second black ship passed within inches of her face, its wake hurling the two dories off on a huge roll of sea water.

  Lucanus flung her over his shoulder, and started running, leaping over the rails and flying through the air. Rachel screamed as they landed, not in the water, but on the deck of the other ship, where they skidded into a pair of legs and she fell over onto her back.

  Lucanus leapt to his feet and yanked Rachel to hers.

  “Tribune,” he barked. He jerked his head down and up, and shoved her forward. “This is Rachel Ingram.”

  The tribune looked down at her, his weathered face as inscrutable as his thoughts. The ruthless discipline of his mind felt to Rachel like a huge palace filled with tightly-locked iron doors and shuttered windows, with only his view of her appearing in the very center.

  A pale blonde woman dressed in a modified legion uniform came from behind the tribune, and drew a dagger as she stoo
d poised to attack. From her thoughts Rachel knew her to be a bodyguard, so focused on killing anyone who might harm the tribune that all she thought was of how she would strike the death blow.

  “Report,” Seneca said.

  “The capture went as planned,” Lucanus said, and detailed Rachel’s abduction in brief. “I must warn you that this female is a brazen liar. Do not trust her for a moment.”

  “Brazen, is she?” An old man with the pale skin and the black eyes of the undead came to inspect her. “A mortal in need of taming.”

  “If you wish her to be tormented,” the optio said, “I am happy to volunteer for the duty. This female tried to seduce me into becoming her protector. She even promised me her virginity.”

  “I doubt there’s one part of her left that Talorc hasnae plumbed,” the old man said, sounding bored now. “You should have her use her mouth on you. That’s how I tell.”

  Rachel flinched as she looked away from Dougal, the Marquess of Ermindale. Behind his snide smile he had a mind like a cesspit seething with poisonous snakes.

  Shouts came from the other ship, along with terrified cries and huge splashes.

  “It seems the McDonnels have boarded the Raven, and are drowning the captives,” Ermindale said, sounding amused. “Mayhap they think them witches, like this one.”

  “Optio, bring her below for questioning,” Seneca said. “Do you wish to carry out the interrogation, Prefect?”

  “I’ll have Optio Lucanus attend to the wee hoor while I watch,” the marquess said. “With that mighty leap he made, I wager he’s earned the pleasure. And he wants her to suffer, so he’ll be brutal.”

  Rachel cried out as the optio grabbed her by the hair, pulling at her scalp as he used it to drag her across the deck. As she twisted and kicked, the night sky seemed to explode, and burning rubble began to rain down around them. Pelted by embers, Lucanus dropped Rachel to strip off his smoldering tunic.

  She staggered to her feet to see the masts of the other ship burning, and the undead crew jumping into the sea. Highlanders swarmed the decks, killing undead and tossing mortals down to dozens of men in dories. The stench of burning resin grew strong and acrid as the flames raced across the top deck, where a huge, jagged gap in the planks revealed the ruined deck below it. The highlanders jumped overboard, but one man remained behind, taking the wheel and turning it to bring the ship about.