“Sure, it is,” I said suspiciously. “Gunnach, huh? I get the feeling you’re sort of connected to all this,” I said pointing to my surroundings.
“You could say that. The Gunnach family has held these games for many years,” he replied. His smile seemed genuine, but it did nothing to put me at ease. This guy seemed to look right though me.
“Right on,” I said. “Thanks for having me, then.”
Gunnach continued to study me, his gaze seemingly locked onto my chest. His brow furrowing ever so slightly as his gaze deepened. “Those are interesting tattoos you have there,” he said.
“Thank you,” I replied, not sure what this guy’s angle was. On the road, I’d run into just about every kind of creep there was, and they came in all kinds of packages. This guy could be a pervert for all I knew.
“Did you get those done here in Scotland?” he asked.
“No, this is my first time here. I got these... a while ago. Why do you ask?”
“But the markings…” he said, surprised.
“These?” I asked, pointing to the patterns and shapes that made up my chest piece.
“Yes,” he replied. “Where did the artist who gave you your tattoos learn those markings?”
“From me,” I replied and Gunnach’s eyes met mine.
“I apologize for getting your name wrong earlier, Arric. I was told you’d registered under the name Ben Johnson. Did I get your surname wrong as well?”
“It’s Mann,” I replied, once again unable to lie.
Jesus, fucking Christ, why the hell am I sharing this shit?
“A Highlander after all?” he mused.
“If you say so.”
“Yes,” he said, before continuing. “Every year the Gunnach family has had a champion to represent our clan at these games. For the past several years, Thor has been our champion. Now it appears he won’t be able to compete after today’s unsanctioned ‘press off,’” he said, motioning to the leg machine.
“Hey, that shit wasn’t my fault,” I protested. “I was just working out, minding my own business when that Thor guy—”
“No, I’m sorry,” Mr. Gunnach, politely interrupted. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you bear any responsibility for Mr. Olsen’s injury. Thor is his own man, and Thor is…well, Thor.”
“Then what do you want with me?” I asked, growing increasingly irritated by the conversation. Not that it was hard to work me into a lather these days. I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me, but lately all I wanted to do was fight, fuck, then fight some more. Over the past eight months I’d traveled from gym to gym, fight club to fight club, never going to the same one twice. Trying my best to lay low but still needing to feed the beast within me. The beast, whose appetite was growing.
Gunnach continued, “I thought since our veteran competitor must drop out of the games, perhaps our champion this year could be a first-timer. And now, to learn you have Scottish blood,” he said excitedly.
“Look. I don’t know dick about where my ancestors are from and since none of them have ever sent me a postcard or a check on my birthday, I don’t give a shit,” I said.
“You will show Kade Gunnach proper respect, young man, or I will have you removed from the grounds,” the second man said, stepping towards me.
“It’s okay, Alasdair,” Gunnach said, stepping between us. “I’m sorry. My manners. This is my head of security, Mr. Alasdair Ryan and this is my niece, Isla.”
I looked at the young blonde for the first time since the trio had walked into the tent and felt like I’d been kicked in the chest. I’d already worked up a good sweat from the workout, but instantly felt five degrees hotter the second I locked eyes with her.
“It’s, uh. Nice to…meet you.” I said, suddenly feeling panicked. “I’d shake your hand, but, uh. I’m a little sweaty.”
She smiled and I felt lightheaded. I guess Frank was right. I’d been pushing myself too hard.
“That’s alright. I’ve never been afraid to get my hands dirty,” she said and extended her porcelain hand to me. However, the instant before we touched, I recoiled. My body involuntarily pushing me backwards as if I’d gotten too close to the third rail in a subway tunnel.
As I continued my backward motion, I tripped over a piece of workout equipment, sending me crashing into the leg press machine that started all of this. My head flew back, slamming into the metal frame with a dull thud.
“Oh, my God,” Isla said, running to me. She bent down, one hand going to the back of my head and one directly on my chest.
Whatever kick I’d felt before was nothing compared to what happened when Isla Gunnach touched me. A current of pure energy flowed between her fingertips and my body buzzed like a hot plate between them. My skin burned and the tattoos on my chest and arms began to glow. Bright amber light spilled out of my tank top as my mind was flooded with a barrage of vivid, yet distorted images. My body stiffened as the intensity of the glowing light and the fire in my bones increased. If the visions or the pain had gone on much longer, I’m sure I would have gone mad, but as quickly as the episode started it was done.
Isla let go. Scrambling backwards across the floor as far away from me as she could get.
I struggled to my feet, disoriented and in a state of shock. “What the fuck did you do to me?” I yelled.
“Arric,” Gunnach said, softly.
“Fuck you! Who the hell are you people?”
“You should probably sit down,” Gunnach continued. “Frank, get him some water.”
“Stay the fuck away from me. All of you,” I yelled, backing away towards the door.
“Arric, wait,” Gunnach pleaded, but I backed out the door and started running for my car.
* * *
Isla
Holy crap on a stick. What the hell just happened?
My uncle made a run for the exit, but Alasdair stopped him. “You need to open the games, Your Majesty.”
“Someone needs to go after him,” Kade countered.
“I’ll go,” Alasdair said. “You need to meet your brothers on the stage.”
Kade turned to me. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “All I did was touch him.”
“Did you feel anything?”
I shook my head.
My uncle leaned closer to me and stared straight into my soul. “He glowed, lass. After you touched him. Are you sure you didn’t see or feel something?”
I shook my head again. “He just freaked out on me. I don’t know why.”
He narrowed his eyes and studied me briefly before nodding and walking out of the tent. Alasdair was already gone. I bit back tears, taking a deep breath, and trying to shove down my guilt.
Not only had I just lied to my uncle… I’d lied to my king.
“Isla!” I heard the frantic voice of my father outside of the tent.
“In here, Da.”
My father slapped the tent flaps open and dipped inside. “You all right, love?”
I nodded, then promptly burst into tears.
“Och, lass,” he cooed, pulling me against him and wrapping me in his protective hug. “What happened?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I said. “It all happened so fast.”
“Sir, you’re needed on the stage,” Frank said, peeking into the tent.
“They can wait.”
“I’m okay, Da,” I said, giving my father a squeeze. “I’ll come with you.”
He cupped my cheeks and raised my chin. “Are you sure?”
I forced a smile and nodded. “Aye.”
He nodded, kissing my nose, then he took my hand and we made our way to the competition ground, then onto the stage.
Catriona ran over to us looking frantic. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll fill you in later,” I promised as I followed my father onto the stage.
* * *
Arric
“Mr. Mann, please stop!” Alasdair called out from be
hind as I hauled ass toward the midway. Most of the spectators had already made their way to the grandstands, so the grounds were nearly empty except for event staff and a few stragglers. This was good, as it meant fewer potential witnesses if I had to kick this guy’s ass. Not that he’d be able to catch me. I had a head start and was fast for my size. I’d be at the north lawn and in my rental car before this asshole bodyguard could—
My thought was broken by Alasdair, who’d not only somehow managed to catch up with me, but also tackle me to the ground.
“What the hell?” I growled as I struggled for control. This guy was not only fast, but strong as hell, too. Before I knew it, he had me pinned, face down in the dirt, with both arms secured behind my back.
“Steady on, lad. No need to make things difficult for yourself,” Alasdair said in an almost assuring tone and I had no choice but to comply. “I only want to talk.”
“Funny fuckin’ way of showing it, pal,” I said through a puff of dust.
Alasdair was clearly in shape, but I ate guys like him for breakfast in the gym all the time. Whatever these freaks did to me back at the warm-up tent must have weakened me.
“If I let you up, will you promise to behave?”
“Behave?” I breathed out. “Man, get the fuck off me.”
Alasdair stood me up, still securing my arms behind my back. It was then I knew I wasn’t weak, and I wasn’t imagining things. This guy was strong. Freakishly strong.
“If I let go of you, are you going to run?” Alasdair asked softly.
I shook my head, and he released his grip.
I spun around to face him but before I could speak, he extended his hand and said, “I’m afraid we got off to a bit of a rough start. Perhaps we can try again.”
“Who the hell are you people?” I asked, leaving his hand unshaken.
“We should go inside,” he replied.
“You should go fuck yourself,” I shot back, dusting myself off. “I’m not going anywhere with any of you freaks.”
“Arric,” he said, looking directly into my eyes. “It’s important that you come with me back to the house. We clearly have a number of things to discuss.”
“What did that woman do to me back there? And why the hell was I glowing? How the hell was I glowing?”
Alasdair gestured for me to lower my voice. “I can assure you I have no idea about what happened back in that tent.”
“Bullshit,” I spat out.
“I can also assure you that Isla certainly had nothing to do with it.”
“Like hell she didn’t. She lit me up like a goddamned pinball machine. Not to mention the fact that my brain was in a blender the entire time she was touching me.”
“The entire time?” Alasdair asked, looking confused. “She touched you for half a second at best.”
“Whatever. Play your little games. I don’t really care. I’m outta here,” I said, before turning to leave.
“Mr. Mann. Arric, please. I really do think it would be best if you came with me back to the house. We’ll have a doctor look at you. To make sure you’re alright.”
“The only thing that’s gonna make me alright is getting the hell away from this place and you people,” I said, walking away.
“Þú verður að koma með mér núna.” (You need to come with me now.)
Alasdair spoke the words and my feet turned to lead. I was frozen in my tracks. Completely unable to move. The language he spoke was totally foreign to my ear and yet somehow, I understood and felt compelled to obey every word.
“Ég tel þig vera í mikilli hættu,” (I believe you are in great danger) he continued, compelling me to turn and follow him, which I did willingly.
I say ‘willingly’ because, even though Alasdair was controlling my every move, I wasn’t acting against my will. It was more like I was obeying a primal instinct hidden deep within myself. I wanted to follow his instructions.
I could hear the roar of the crowd in the distance. The games were starting, and I was suddenly hit by a wave of disappointment. I’d come a long way to compete, and despite current events, I still ached for competition. For battle.
We walked silently through the grounds, away from the festivities, towards what Alasdair called the “house.”
House, my ass. I knew a castle when I saw one.
Arric
WE TRAVELED THROUGH a narrow pathway which led to the side of the castle.
“This is the private staff entrance,” Alasdair explained, placing his hand on the security panel to the side of the door. The panel chimed twice, glowed green, and the door opened automatically. “The house is very old, but the security system is state of the art,” he said, motioning me inside to a small reception area.
An attractive young woman with jet black hair and bright green eyes sat behind an ornate antique desk. She was dressed in black military-style fatigues and looked to be in her mid-twenties.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Ryan,” she said in a formal, but friendly tone. “Haven’t the games started?”
“Yes, Sergeant, but I have a matter to discuss with this gentleman that requires my immediate attention,” Alasdair replied.
The sergeant nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“We also need privacy. Is the library free?”
“Let me check, sir,” she said, pulling up what looked like a live video feed on her tablet. “All clear, sir.”
“Good. Thank you, Sergeant Lennox,” Alasdair said, before turning to me. “Follow me, stay close, and don’t talk to anyone.”
“What the hell is all this?” I asked.
“This is one of two secured waiting areas in which all guests and staff enter and exit the residence. The other is at the main entrance, but I thought it best if we came in this way,” Alasdair said, motioning me toward the only other door in the room. “Security is always tight this time of year, as the games attract all manner of guests.”
“Hold on,” I said, stopping. “How do I know you’re not taking me down to some sort of sex dungeon or something.”
A giggle escaped from the young sergeant, drawing the ire of her boss.
“Composure,” Alasdair barked, and she stowed her smile.
He turned back to me. “Mr. Mann, I can assure you, we merely want to talk.”
“Now you sound less like a sex trafficker and more like a cop,” I accused, still trying to decide if I should follow him further or make one last attempt at bolting.
Sergeant Lennox laughed again causing Alasdair to blow his top.
“Ég varaði þig við, liðþjálfi,” he said sternly.
The young sergeant stood at full attention. “Herra, ég biðst afsökunar. Ég veit ekki hvað kom yfir mig,” she replied, her face, set to a steely gaze.
“Kannski geturðu komist að því þegar þú ert í sex vikna næturvörslu,” Alasdair replied, this time eliciting a reaction from me.
“Six weeks? All she did was snicker, man,” I said.
Alasdair’s head snapped to me. “What did you just say?”
“I said, six weeks of night watch is a bit hefty for an involuntary laugh over what wasn’t entirely a joke,” I replied.
“How the hell do you speak Icelandic?”
“I don’t,” I replied.
“I would strongly advise you not to play games with me, Mr. Mann.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t speak Icelandic, but I understood whatever it was you just said to her.” I pointed to Sergeant Lennox.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough of this,” Alasdair snapped. “You’re coming with me and you’re gonna tell me exactly who the hell you are.”
He grabbed me by the arm, reminding me of his freakish strength. I was also aware that I felt weaker than I had earlier. I opened my mouth to protest, but suddenly losing the will to speak before I could utter a sound.
Alasdair led me through the exit and into the main residence. As he sped us through the house’s grand halls, I was overwhelmed by the place. Every
where my eyes turned brought on strange thoughts, almost like memories, although I’d never been here before. The walls were lined with massive oil paintings of people I’d never heard of or seen, but whose names I somehow knew. I was suffering from what felt like a prolonged episode of déjà vu.
We reached the library and my jaw just about hit the floor as Alasdair led us inside the massive space. The room was three stories high and was lined, floor to ceiling, with bookshelves. In the center of the room was a lighted display stand and on that stand was a full suit of armor and a broad sword.
“If I let you go, do you give me your word you’re not going to do anything stupid?” Alasdair asked.
I nodded, but he could see I was more focused on the armor than his words.
“That armor once belonged to a great warrior. It’s incredibly old,” he said in a reverent, almost hushed tone.
“It’s magnificent,” I said, moving in for a closer look.
“Please don’t touch anything,” Alasdair said, sounding like an uptight museum guard.
I raised both hands, giving him the universal ‘hands off’ sign.
“If it’s old, it’s gotta be valuable, huh?” I asked.
Alasdair nodded. “Immeasurably.”
“Then why keep it out in the open like this? Shouldn’t it be locked up somewhere?”
“I look forward to the day anyone tries to take anything from this house,” he said in a way that sounded more like a welcomed challenge than false bravado.
“I’ve never been in a place like this before,” I said, scanning my surroundings.
“A library?” Alasdair mocked.
“A castle,” I replied, ignoring his wisecrack. “What’s the deal with this place anyway?”
“How about I ask the questions for a while?”
“Just one more, I promise,” I said, and after he gave me a nod of acquiescence, I raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you capable of not being an asshole?”
“You act as if you know nothing about Castle Gunnach, or Kade Gunnach himself, for that matter and yet, here you are, registered to compete in our games under a false name. What am I to make of that Mr. Mann? Or is it Johnson?”
Bound by Fate (Cauld Ane Series Book 10) Page 3