Highland Destiny (39 page)

His hand was creeping up her leg, pulling up her skirts. Oh Lord, she knew what he was going to do, and she trembled in fear. He was squeezing her abused throat so tightly that she was having trouble breathing. If only she would black out before he violated her. Her heavy eyes flew open and she gave herself a mental smack. How dare she give up now! He would not win. When his fingers touched the smooth flesh of her inner thighs, he moaned. She felt her stomach heave. The fingers of her enemy were touching her where only Connor had, and as she thought of him, she found there was some fight left in her after all.

Mackenzie had one hand on his at her throat, she'd tried to pry it off, but it had been impossible. While the Campbell was not as big as Connor, he was still very strong. But so was Mackenzie, and she refused to give up. She raked her fingernails across his cheek as he tried to pry her legs apart.

He hissed at her! He'd actually hissed at her!

"Don't do that again. I can make this pleasant for both of us, or I can make this pleasant for myself." He smiled as she grasped his meaning.

Well, he would have to take her the hard way, there was no chance that she was giving up without a fight. His cruel fingers moved from her neck only to slap her across the face again. The blow rattled her teeth together, but she refused to show her pain. Glaring up at him, she was barely able to whisper through her swollen throat, "I will kill you."

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She had always known her death would be by his hand, but that had been before. Before she had met Connor, before she had found love, before she had found something worth fighting for, worth living for. She refused to die. She placed both of her hands on his chest and shoved as hard as she could. He didn't loosen his death grip on her throat. She reversed the tables and placed both of her hands around
his
neck, squeezing as hard as she could. She registered the change in his eyes from lust to aggravation. He pulled his hand from her thighs at least, but he successfully pried her fingers from his neck.

The Campbell chuckled darkly. "I am afraid you'll be disappointed if you think that will kill me." He laughed again, an evil, frightening sound, as he gathered both of her hands in his, successfully restraining her. He ran his eyes down her body, and the lust returned. She could feel the evidence against her hip. "You are beautiful, my dear. I hope your Highlander hears how I tasted you, and how I enjoyed your favors. It will be the start of a beautiful war."

Suddenly, his weight was gone. She heard the thud as he landed on the ground. Squinting in the dark, Mackenzie made out the shape of another man in the room. He was standing above the Campbell, sword drawn. She recognized his stance, the way he held his sword; it was Connor. She could tell without seeing his face. Fumbling to cover herself, Mackenzie 388

This scene was too familiar. Mackenzie vaguely remembered a dream from a few weeks back. Connor and the Campbell fighting in a dark room with arched ceilings. This is where the fire had come into play. Oh no! Connor!

"Connor, no! Let him go!" She distracted Connor enough that he stepped back just as a spray of fire flew from the Campbell's fingertips barely missing where he had just stood.

"You protect him?" Connor snarled, his disgust apparent.

She didn't have time to explain. He obviously couldn't tell that she was protecting him, not the Campbell. When the Campbell turned on her, he was smiling. It was the cold smile of a snake, and it chilled her to her soul.

"I knew you'd warm up to me, my dear."

Mackenzie glared, but kept silent. She needed to think.

And fast. The Campbell reached for her again, but she sidestepped his grasp. She could see the glint of her dagger on the floor, but it was on the other side of Connor and the Campbell. There was no way she could get to it without attracting attention to what she was doing. Meanwhile the Campbell had grabbed Mackenzie's upper arm in a painfully 389

What manner of man was he? He wasn't. He had sold his soul to the dark forces, and in return had become indestructible. No wonder he had been so arrogant. He knew he couldn't be killed. The glint of the dagger drew her gaze again. Except by her dagger! Her blood had always been the key, and the sorcerers had used her blood to charm that dagger so it would succeed where Connor could not. She had to reach it!

Connor and the Campbell were fighting. Well, Connor was hacking at him, but he wasn't falling or bleeding.

Mackenzie made a run for it, and prayed this would work.

She made it to her dagger just in time; the Campbell had gotten bored letting Connor chop at his impenetrable skin, and threw fire at him once more. Mackenzie brought the dagger down and into his shoulder. It worked! The scream he let had her covering her ears, and backing away.

"It's not possible!" he screeched. He turned wild, frenzied eyes on Mackenzie and howled with rage. "How? How did you 390

Mackenzie waited for him to close the distance between them and swung the dagger once more, aiming for his heart, but he pivoted out of the way and she grazed his upper arm.

Once again he howled as if he was being burned. And then he did something truly surprising: he turned and fled.

Mackenzie was cradling her arm for some of his blood had spattered onto her skin; it felt as if it was melting the flesh from bone. But she had to go after him.

"Mackenzie, I—-" Connor began, but Mackenzie didn't have time and bolted for the door.

Running past Connor was easier than she'd thought it would be. He let her go. Mackenzie was running on instinct and adrenaline alone, hoping she was following the Campbell's trail. She felt that she was going in circles, and she felt as if every time she climbed a flight of stairs, she never really went up. This was reminding her of a dream as well. She knew she had to be somewhere for something important, but her memory was fading and she couldn't remember where she was supposed to go, or for what? She had slowed her run to a walk as she looked around the suddenly unfamiliar walls.

The voice of Morvern broke through her confusion, though.

"Remember you are here for the Campbell. You must not be distracted. See through his deceptions. You are the Stewart lass, you alone must defeat him. For the good of your people, for the good of your child. You must press on."

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She was no longer confused, but she still didn't know which way to go. Morvern interceded once more. He showed her to the tower stairway. She kept climbing until she reached the balustrade, and she could see her enemy standing with his back to her, his arms raised to the full moon low in the sky.

Her every movement was in slow motion, it was similar to in the Hall. She knew this would be the end of it all. It was as if her vision had centered on the Campbell and everything else was blacked out. She was vaguely aware of someone coming up behind her, but nothing could distract her from her purpose. She walked toward the Campbell, seeing only him and the target his back presented. She would slit his throat.

He hadn't turned at the sound of her approach, but still she walked toward his position. As she came up behind him and raised her dagger, she heard her name called from behind her, but she ignored it. Nothing could sway her from her mission. Stabbing him at the base of the neck, Mackenzie hoped to snap his spine with the blade, but as she pulled the blade out, his blood ran down his back and he turned surprised eyes on her.

He gurgled out an unintelligible response, and managed to say, "How? You should not be seeing me." He staggered to one knee and almost collapsed. He stumbled up and backward until he came to the low wall, his momentum carrying him over.

The Campbell had fallen off the top of his keep, and landed in front of the confused partygoers on the main floor.

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The bloodlust was gone, replaced with calm rational thinking.

And the knowledge that someone else was up on the balustrade with her.

Mackenzie stepped as far back as she could from the grisly scene so far below. Turning, she saw Connor, with a look on his face that she had never before seen. She wanted to sit down and cry. She couldn't deal with him. She couldn't deal with him thinking she had betrayed him or their people. She had come to think of them as her people now, too, and she had saved them from the rule of a tyrant who would have killed or enslaved them. Instead of peace, or pride in her accomplishment, she was ready to break. She was so fragile that the idea of confronting Connor, made her hands shake.

She had to get out of here.

Connor caught her arm and swung her around to face him.

His steely eyes bored into hers, seeing everything she had in her soul. Her green eyes filled with unshed tears as she held his gaze. Let him see what he wanted, she didn't care anymore.

"How did you do that?"

Mackenzie couldn't answer him.

He shook her slightly in frustration, and asked, "Why did you tell him the location of my men? They were slaughtered like animals! How could you do that? No matter your feelings for me, how could you do that to those innocent people?"

Still she couldn't make her voice work.

"You owe me an explanation!"

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Just let me go, Connor." She'd expended so much energy on trying to defeat the Campbell, that she was spent. Now, she just wanted to survive. She knew her heart wouldn't make it out intact, but she could still spare their child. So she shook his hand off of her arm, and ran.

Mackenzie ran as fast as she could away from Connor, not stopping until she had run down several flights of stairs. Once down the winding staircase, Morvern and Gregor appeared in front of her. Both had huge smiles on their faces; even Gregor, who never smiled. His plain face looked almost attractive when he was happy.

"We knew you could do it," Morvern clasped her hand, the one with the burn marks from the blood, and ran a light touch over her skin. When his hand had passed, the burn was gone.

"Thank you." Mackenzie was rubbing her arm where the burn had been.

"No, my Lady, it is we who thank you." Gregor bowed to her. She had done the impossible, and in turn earned his respect. Not that it mattered, the one person whose opinion meant anything at all was lost to her for all time.

"My Lady, you must come with us now, if you would like to go home."

Home. Where was that again? Home is where the heart is, there's no place like home. Home! Home! Home! It didn't even sound like a real word anymore,
home
. She was done!

Morvern's ancient face looked shrewdly on her as he asked her, "That is,
if
you would like to go back to your own time?"

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It was unnerving to see so many people staring at her with such gratitude. Even Liam was looking at her with acknowledgement of her deed. She had to pass him to leave, and as she did, he stopped her with his hand on her shoulder.

"My Lady?"

"Yes?" She still didn't have much volume to her voice after nearly being strangled twice. Fortunately it was dead silent, so she was heard.

"I am sorry for my actions. I was wrong in my judgment of ye. Please accept my apology."

Mackenzie whispered, "Of course, Liam. You were trying to protect your brother." She managed a tiny smile. "No hard feelings."

"You are more generous than I would be, were our places reversed. Thank you."

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"Please, wait."

She looked up at Liam.

"What of my brother?"

"He's on his way down. He's not injured."

"I meant, what of you and my brother?"

"He...he doesn't want me." Her lips trembled as she whispered the words.

"He said that?"

"He didn't have to," Mackenzie barely got the words out, they seemed stuck in her throat.

"And the babe?"

"I am leaving for my" she choked on the word
home
, and quickly substituted "time." She placed her hand over Liam's which still rested on her shoulder. "Keep him safe for me Liam? And tell him that I wish him only happiness." Her watery eyes met his, as she begged for him to promise.

He was surprised. "Aye, my Lady." Liam dropped to one knee and bowed his head with respect.

One by one, the rest of the audience did the same, with the exception of a few groupings of prisoners being held by Connor's men. Mackenzie was overwhelmed by the reaction of the people.

Morvern's voice crackled through the silence, "We must be on our way. The gate closes at midnight."

Mackenzie expelled a long breath and looked around the room just in time to see Connor entering the room, looking 396