Reckoning (Book 4 of Lost Highlander series)

by Cassidy Cayman

  She rested her head against the rough bark of the log and closed her eyes, but as soon as she did, the quiet forest came to life, and she heard every scuttle, whoosh and far off screech. She heard every sound except the one she wanted to hear. Booted footsteps tramping through the undergrowth.

  She must have dozed off, because it was close to daybreak when she opened her eyes. Piper was gone and for a second she thought her heart actually stopped. She clutched at her neck, trying to feel a pulse there, wondering if anyone ever actually died of fright, and if so, how long it took for their body to fall over.

  She stood up and saw Piper at the edge of the riverbank scrubbing at her arms with the frigid water. The greenish predawn light made her look like an otherworldly creature, a fairy or a leprechaun, busily going about her morning ablutions in the river, as if it were completely normal. She briefly wondered if Piper might be part of the ancient folk, if the magic came from another place altogether.

  Stop being an idiot, she told herself.

  “That room they had me in was disgusting,” Piper said, when she returned to their post at the log. “It’s cleaner out here in the woods.” She tried drying her arms and face with the shawl she had with her, then frowned at it. She frowned at Evelyn next. “It’s been hours.”

  Evelyn nodded. “He’ll find us more easily now that it’s getting light.”

  Piper nodded, oddly resigned. “I feel pretty confident I can send you back on your own,” she said.

  “You better not try it,” Evelyn said, standing up and moving away from her. “I won’t ever forgive you if you do.”

  “Will you relax? I can’t do it by twitching my nose.” She patted the ground next to her. “I’m just saying if it comes to that.”

  “It won’t.” Evelyn sat back down, leaning against the log.

  Piper gave her a maddeningly calm smile and they stared at the river through the trees. Evelyn was itching to know what had happened and couldn’t believe Piper hadn’t already told her everything, or at least got started on the story.

  She sighed. “What in the hell? You were only gone a few days. How did you get set up for witchcraft?”

  Piper stayed suspiciously quiet, and Evelyn reached over and poked her. Finally she put her head on her knees. “I’m possessed by a witch,” she said.

  “And how did they find out about that?” When faced with another long silence, she asked, “Did something happen? Did Daria have an outburst?”

  Piper snickered and looked askance at her. “I told Rose. And then they found some stuff I brought.”

  Evelyn sat up. “What stuff?”

  Piper’s pale face suffused with color. “A plastic lighter was the thing that mostly riled them up.”

  “So you told Rose you’re possessed, and brought a plastic lighter to 1793. Good lord. You deserve to be drowned.”

  Piper smiled sadly and stared at the river, refusing to speak about anything else that happened. Evelyn left her alone, thinking she was upset about the realization that her grandmother wasn’t what she expected or hoped. She heard a rustling deeper in the woods and stood up.

  “About damn time,” she said, her voice shrinking to a shocked squeak at the sight of Lachlan.

  He looked past her to Piper sitting in her dejected position against the log, his lip quirking up in a half smile before dropping forward, flat on his face in the underbrush.

  They both scrambled to him, struggling to turn him over. They managed to get him on his side to see his face was a mass of bruises, his jacket gone, waistcoat torn and spattered with blood.

  “How much of this is his?” Piper asked frantically, tearing open his shirt.

  “At least some of it,” Evelyn said, pointing out his stab wound from the night before.

  It was still slowly oozing blood. Another cut ran across his chest as if someone had slashed at him. His knuckles were raw, which gave Evelyn a small bit of satisfaction, hoping he’d managed to make some other’s faces look at least as bad as his. Piper checked for a pulse and leaned over his face, calling his name and kissing him. Evelyn worked her way down his body, looking for more damage, to find half an arrow sticking out of his calf. Well, crap. She pointed it out to Piper, who got an enraged look on her face.

  “What in the hell is wrong with these people?” she demanded, gently prodding the part that stuck out of his leg. “We can’t mess with that, it’ll have to wait.” She looked around and settled her gaze on Evelyn. Something in her face made her heart sink, but her next words at least, were encouraging. “I’ve got to get him back.”

  Music to her ears. “Yes, Piper, let’s get back.” She rested on her heels, waiting for instructions.

  Piper barely gave her a look, all her attention riveted on Lachlan’s face. She winced and slapped him across the cheek. “I’m afraid it won’t work if he’s unconscious,” she explained, getting ready to slap him again. “Lachlan, please wake up, baby. I have to get you guys home.”

  His eyes fluttered open and he turned to her voice. “Piper, my love.” Piper laughed and kissed him. “I didna kill anyone,” he told her, making her laugh some more.

  “He’s been awfully concerned about that,” Evelyn said, thinking they might be home by now if he’d been more thorough with the guard who’d stabbed him.

  “Well, he knows I don’t like it,” she said, running her hands down his face. “Now get over here and hold onto him so I can get you back.”

  Piper’s odd phrasing had pinged in her mind a few minutes earlier, but she’d been too distracted by Lachlan’s state to really notice it. But the second time, there was no mistaking Piper’s intent. She stayed firmly where she was, taking her hand off Lachlan’s calf in case Piper tried anything. To be safe, she scooted further away from him.

  “Why did you say it like that? We’re all going back.”

  Piper closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “You were joking earlier, Evie,” she said, a tear dropping to the leaves by her feet. “But you were right. I do deserve to be drowned. It’s the only way to get rid of Daria once and for all.”

  Lachlan made a weak sound of dissent and grabbed her arm. “No, love, never say such a thing.” He forced himself to sitting and Evelyn saw a fresh gush of blood flow from his side.

  She and Piper pushed him back and pressed what was left of his waistcoat against it. His eyes rolled back in his head, his lips pale. He didn’t have much time.

  Piper took Evelyn’s hand and placed it on his shoulder, then started to chant the words of the spell. Evelyn tore her hand away and scurried backwards, putting several yards of forest between herself and Lachlan.

  “You can send him back, but if you’re staying, I’m staying.”

  “Evie …” Piper pointed to Lachlan. “Please. He’s going to need your help. You’ll need to call Dr. Stone.” Evelyn shrugged belligerently and Piper gave her a look she believed was supposed to scare her. Still, she stayed where she was, knowing Piper wouldn’t risk doing the spell wrong. “You have to let me finish this. Save Lachlan, then go home and be happy with Sam and Magnus.”

  That hit below the belt. Their names tore into her and she felt a physical yearning to hold her baby. She saw Lachlan’s shallow, labored breathing, and knew he needed help. “And what?” she asked, digging her fingers into the dirt to keep from crying. “Remember you fondly? Sorry, but no.”

  She’d known Piper since they were twelve years old. She wouldn’t have the life she had if it weren’t for her best friend, wouldn’t have gone to any of the places they’d gone together, wouldn’t have taken a single chance. She would have sat alone in her room reading books and never known a single real adventure. She wouldn’t have Sam or Magnus, the lights of her life, if she hadn’t come running to Scotland for Piper.

  She shook her head and repeated it. “No.”

  Piper stood up and paced away, pointing back at Lachlan. “He’s dying,” she said angrily.

  “Well, we have a spot for him when we all get back,” Evelyn said
cruelly, her chest constricting painfully. Piper whirled on her, eyes blazing, hair practically standing on end. Evelyn smirked and looked away, hating herself.

  Piper stalked forward, closing the distance between them. So much anger radiated off her, Evelyn prepared herself for a punch in the face, but something changed and instead Piper dropped to her knees in front of her and took her hands. If Evelyn’s heart hadn’t already been in pieces, the look on Piper’s face shattered what was left of it.

  “I can’t go back,” she said. “I’m dangerous. I will be dangerous if she gets stronger.”

  “That isn’t true,” Evelyn said, twisting her hands away and shaking Piper by the shoulders.

  Piper let herself be shaken, but the endless sorrow on her face remained, her decision to stay clearly unchanged. “She’s evil, and I have her powers now. There are things I know I can do. Terrible things. I don’t want her to turn me into something like her. I’d rather be dead than be like her.”

  “You could never be like her.”

  Piper’s chin dropped to her chest. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to hit you a second ago. Just make you do what I wanted.”

  Evelyn let her go and looked at Lachlan, then out at the river. “But you didn’t. It’s our choices … you know what, I’m not going to quote Harry Potter because it would be wasted on you. But you’re better than Daria. And stronger. She can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. She couldn’t keep you from coming back here, though God forbid I should say this, she was right about that. She couldn’t keep you from succeeding at the other spell.”

  “But, the fires,” Piper said. “I couldn’t control those.”

  Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Oh, you mean the fire you set in the fireplace? And the one you lit under the teakettle? Ooh, you changed the temperature in the sitting room, and boiled water for tea. How monstrous.”

  Piper shook her head, still refusing to believe. “You don’t know everything she did. To Rose and me—”

  Evelyn interrupted her. “Who cares about Rose? Look,” she pointed at Lachlan. “Daria didn’t get Lachlan. He found his way back to you. I’m sorry for Rose, but you shouldn’t suffer for her bad decisions.”

  “She’s my family.” Her voice could barely be heard it was so small and lost.

  “No, she isn’t, Piper. She isn’t your family and that was her choice. Me and Lachlan, we’re your family. And we sure as hell don’t want you to drown in the river.”

  Piper looked at her, eyes shining, looking as if she didn’t dare to hope. “Aren’t you scared of what I’ll become? What if she takes over?”

  Evelyn leaned over and squeezed her shoulders, trying to make her see the obvious. The thing everyone knew about Piper. Except Piper.

  “You can’t ever be completely taken over because you’re too full of good. You’re the best person I know. All your sweetness probably absorbed her evil. She’s going to give up and move on or flame out, whatever spirits do. Maybe you’ll even help her find peace.”

  Piper choked back a sob. “I wish that was true. I wish I didn’t have to fight her anymore.”

  “It is true,” Evelyn assured her. “You don’t need to fight her because you’ve already won.”

  Chapter 18

  “I tried verra hard to fix it all with no violence as ye would have liked,” Lachlan said.

  “And did it work?” she asked, snuggling against his shoulder and breathing him in.

  “Aye, well, I had to hit a fair amount of people,” he said. “But ye must remember it wasna me who stabbed Tavish.”

  “Oh, well, that’s comforting.”

  She got up and checked the bandage at his side and the stitches that ran across his calf. She put some more antibiotic ointment on his various cuts and scrapes and kissed the bruises on his face. He looked like he’d been through a meat grinder. Even Dr. Stone had been alarmed this time.

  To her, he looked like a ray of sunlight after forty days of rain. She quickly grew used to his new short hair, but was glad to find out he didn’t have any plans to keep it short.

  He wore a loose pair of flannel pajama pants and a soft white t-shirt she’d pushed up to check his injuries. She ran her fingers over his solid stomach and along the bunched up edge of the shirt, sliding her hands under it to grip his shoulders. She found that she couldn’t keep her hands or eyes off him and hadn’t been from his side for more than a minute or two since they’d been back. Now he was awake and his voice was the sweetest music to her ears.

  “Are you very sore?”

  He grinned at her and lifted himself off his pillow, holding out his arms so she could work the shirt over his head. “Verra sore,” he said.

  “Shall I leave you alone, then?” she asked, unable to look away from him.

  He took her leg and hauled it over him so she sat astride his lap. “Did the wee doctor no’ say I should move around and keep my blood flowing?”

  Sliding backwards, she pushed against him to find his blood was flowing perfectly fine. “Oh, is that what he said? I thought I heard him say you needed to lie still until you’re healed.”

  He placed his hands on her hips and moved suggestively beneath her. “I can lie still, if that is what ye prefer. I dinna mind if ye do all the work.”

  A rush of sensation swept up her body, urged along by his roaming hands. Something else sang in her, stronger than desire. It filled her to brimming.

  “I love you,” she whispered, kissing him gently on his bruised mouth.

  He gripped the back of her head and pressed her closer, deepening their kiss. The stroke of his fingers down the length of her arms and the brush of his tongue against her lips made her insides turn liquid.

  “I love ye always,” he said when she pulled away to look down at him.

  She didn’t think she could ever get enough of him. “The being separated has to stop,” she said breathlessly. “We have to decide when we’re going to live.”

  “Aye, we canna be apart anymore. I dinna like it at all.”

  She nodded, smiling distractedly as he set about unbuttoning her sweater. He frowned at each tiny pearl button on the cardigan, and she laughed when he pushed it off her shoulders to find she wore a gauzy sheer blouse with another long row of buttons. He traced the straps of her camisole through it and she suddenly wished he would just tear it off, wanting to feel his warm hands on her skin.

  Instead, he started in again, giving her a look that said she deserved the slow torture for wearing it in the first place. When he slid his fingertips over her collarbone and ran them along the scooped neckline of her cami, she dropped her head back and sighed, remembering they were in the middle of an important conversation.

  “Well?” she reminded him, trying to shake out of her pleasure haze. “What do you think?”

  He popped the last three buttons on her blouse and spread it open, looking absolutely pained at the presence of her camisole. “I think I verra much want to touch your breasts,” he said.

  Heat flooded her and she wriggled out of her tops, vowing to stop layering now that they were back together. She eagerly leaned into his big hands as he cupped her breasts, watching his eyes darken as he took her in. She loved how much he loved her, and wanted to give him everything in return.

  “We can go to your time,” she said, finding it hard to speak and harder to think. “I liked your brother. I’d love to meet your sister, too.”

  His shoulder muscles tensed as he ran his hands down her sides, then flipped up the bottom of her skirt. He hooked his fingers in the top band of her panties, hands splayed across her middle. Piper wriggled her hips to try to get him to work faster, but he kept his hands tantalizingly still.

  “I shall miss them, but I have made my farewells to the past,” he said. “This is my time now, with ye.”

  His eyes swept down her body and back up to rest on her face. He blinked slowly, a sweet smile curling his lips. She leaned down and kissed him once again, savoring the bliss she felt, so differe
nt from the anguish she’d lived with the last months. If Daria was still present in her life, she didn’t feel her now.

  There was only Lachlan. She could barely take a moment to comprehend all that he’d given up for her, when her senses were swept away by his persistent grip on her hips. There were still far too many items of clothing between them.

  Scooting back further, she slipped out of his grasp and edged his pajama bottoms down, tracing a vein that ran across his washboard abdomen. She frowned at the bruises that discolored his taut skin.

  “How many people did you have to fight?” she asked, rolling off and stretching out beside him so she could kiss these newly revealed bruises. He raised his head, gritting his teeth when her mouth moved dangerously low, and tangled his fingers in her hair. She stopped her ministrations and looked at him expectantly.

  “A fair few,” he said in a pained voice, letting his head drop back against the pillow.

  She ran her fingernails up and down his thigh, enjoying watching him jump. “My brave hero,” she breathed against him.

  He smiled and continued his story. “It was when the wee heathen shot me in the leg with the arrow that I took the brunt of it,” he explained. “Kicks mostly, but I think a few cowardly types stood back and threw rocks.”

  She frowned, not sure she wanted to hear anymore, but he was warmed to his story and reached down to pull her up closer to him. She nestled beside him, resting against his chest.

  “All I had to do was think of ye,” he said. “And it was as if I had the strength of ten men. I tossed them all aside and bashed a nose or two, then managed to slink away and hide. I passed out for a bit, which is why it took me so long to find ye.” He looked down at her, his dark lashes hypnotizing her with their slow flutter across his cheekbones. “I may have said this once or twice already, my love, but I am glad to be home.” He moved a lock of her hair behind her ear and stroked her jaw with his thumb. “Seeing your beautiful face is so much better than remembering it.”

  “Oh, Lachlan.”

  She could never explain with words how she felt about him, how completely whole and happy he made her. He pulled her head close and claimed her mouth with his. His hands roamed down her back, unzipping her skirt and tugging it down as far as he could. She breathlessly kicked it the rest of the way off, returning to his lips with hungry passion as she straddled him once more.