Highlander's Beloved 02 - A Highlander's Passion (23 page)

“No, that won’t work. We’ll be giving Fauste too much of a warning. He’ll only change form,” Effie insisted. “I must go on the plane first. Bryce will follow. We’ll have to move fast. I suggest you land far enough behind the aircraft so neither Fauste nor the pilot sees us. Maybe along the side of a hangar. Ask for one of those carts the maintenance guys drive around in and two pairs of their overalls, one in their smallest size and one in their largest. I’ll drive Bryce to the plane in the service vehicle. Hopefully we’ll blend and won’t be noticed as quickly.”

She leaned forward to tap Kendric’s shoulder as she spoke. “Inspiration just hit me. It’s genius! Contact the folks in the tower to alert the pilot of JF666—and how
so like
Fauste to use his initials and the sign of the devil on his plane. Have them tell the pilot that the same person of interest and his bald-headed cohort who installed defective parts in two planes that crashed recently—one over the Mediterranean Sea four months ago—were visually identified in the maintenance areas for private aircraft. Tell the tower crew to inform the pilot that security is chasing the pair and that no private airplanes are to leave until both are apprehended.”

She smiled at Bryce. “Fauste will think it’s the person who caused Rune’s private jet to go down. He’ll be livid and not thinking clearly. He’ll want to stick around for revenge. It’ll give us the edge we need.”

“Why do I have the distinct impression I lost control of this ‘mission’ from the time ye marched into Bryce’s room with yer flattery and yer ‘I might have a wee weapon in me purse’?” Kendric shot her a narrow-eyed glare over his shoulder.

“You know, I find men who are pissed are very, very sexy.” Effie batted her eyes.

“Oh, bloody hell. Someone, please fuk me blind.”

“Copy that, boss,” Maisie’s voice came over the speakers, loud and hopeful.

Male laughter rolled in from Ronan’s helicopter, where evidently all four guys were having a hellofa grand laugh at pilot one’s expense. “Aye, copy
that,
boss,” Ronan said in a high falsetto voice. More male laughter exploded over the communication system.

“Fuk all ye sonsabitches.”

“I called fuk-ya dibs first,” Maisie offered.

Kendric shifted in his seat, anger vibrating off him. “I’m the bloody police officer in charge here, so why do I feel like the bampot who goes running fer whatever everyone needs? Maintenance vehicle. Faulty parts. And where the fukin’ hell am I to find a short bald guy in this gang of misfits?”

Effie lifted her wig and shoved it in the outside pocket of her large purse. Bryce had to bite the inside of his cheek and palm a snigger. Her strawberry pink lipstick and lime green earring hoops presented
quite
the look. She leaned forward and crossed her skinny arms over Kendric’s shoulders. “One bald-headed misfit at your service.”

The pilot spared Effie a glance and gaped fer a moment, then the helicopter banked sharply to the left. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Fuk me running with a pogo stick! Ye got to be freaking kidding me!” From there he went off on a tangent that included “I was born ready. Keep up and don’t dawdle” and “I might have a wee weapon” and “Pissed-off guys make me horny.” Whatever he grumbled between those remarks was part Gaelic curses and part nonsense that Bryce doubted even Kendric understood. Fer all the emotional turmoil Bryce was in, he had to smile. He’d never seen his cousin so damn pissed. He was always calm and in control. Too bad Effie wasna forty years younger. She’d give the policeman a run fer his money.

Bryce closed his eyes and blocked out the ranting and raving from the pilot’s seat. He went into the mental zone he’d used before and concentrated on Kenzie again.

“Beloved.”

“Bry.”

“ ‘Beloved.’ ” Fauste imitated Bryce’s Scottish burr so well he sounded almost exactly like him. “Isn’t that sweet? I might need a visit to a dentist to fix the cavities, it’s so damn sweet.”

Kenzie’s gaze snapped to Fauste’s. He’d been listening. Of course, he would. With all the powers he had, it was a wonder he couldna read her mind. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye; no, surely he couldna.

The airport came into view, a large, low, white complex situated in a flat area surrounded by mountains and green countryside. If she and Bryce were together, with little Colleen in tow, coming here would be cause fer wonder and excitement as they watched the jets take off. Or they could travel to Ireland, to where Bryce’s mum grew up. Dreams. All dreams, to be sure, fer she would never see either of them again.

Fauste slowed the Rolls as he waved the crossbar up to enter the car park area, evidently not feeling the need to get a ticket from the automated machine like everyone else. He drove around the airport building to a group of smaller hangars where private jets and propeller airplanes were parked. He stopped the vehicle next to a Gulfstream labeled JF666 and turned off the ignition. His audacity almost made her laugh. In fact, a giggle did escape.

“What do you find so funny?”

She pointed to the number on the plane. “How droll. Is that the best yer limited imagination could think of? Yer two Wiccan initials and the sign of the devil? Oh, yer a pretentious piece of work, ye are.”

The taste of copper filled her mouth when he backhanded her. Did the arsehole think he’d scare her with a slap? Hell, she’d been trampled to hell and back by Duncan, had two bairns beaten from her. Did this cocky wizard think he could intimidate her with a mere smack? She faked the reaction he no doubt expected, unbelted her seat restraints, and punched him in the eye.

Poor schmuck was so surprised she had the audacity
and
the speed to attack, he screamed like a banshee and lunged.

“Oh, look!” She pointed. “Is that Madonna getting off that jet over there?” Fauste turned and she belted him in the ear. Hell, she was going to die anyway. She might as well have some fun before he delivered the fate she’d accepted as her future.

“Enough!” He undid his seat belt and dragged her by her arms across the console and out of his side of the car. His grip on her arms was damn painful, but it would all be over as soon as he got her blood. He shoved her up the steps to the aircraft. “Micah, how soon can we take off?” Fauste pushed her onto a seat and belted her in.

“Micah, answer me! How soon can we lift off?”

The pilot stepped out of the cockpit into the seating area of the plane. “We can’t, boss. All private planes and jets are on hold until a new maintenance crew goes over all the planes.” He shook his head. “Every damn one.”

“What the fuck are you babbling about? Since when do we listen to rules? Fire up the engines and hit the runway.” He waved his arms about his head. “Why does a different crew need to do more checks on aircraft?”

“There’s two men, a big dude and a bald-headed short guy, that’s been spotted doing safety maintenance on planes. They’re not employees. Facial recognition identifies them as the two who put defective parts into planes that have had to land early with engine trouble. They’ve also been responsible for two crashes.” He locked gazes with Fauste. “You’re not going to like hearing this. One of the crashes was the private jet Rune was on.”

“Dear God! My brother’s murderer is running around here on the loose?”

“Quiet!” Fauste snapped. “You’re sure of this?” His fingers curled into fists and he glared at his pilot as if he were a numpty-headed fool.

“Got it from the control tower. They’ve got fresh crews in little trucks heading for our jet, the two next to us, and that green and white propeller plane parked behind us. Everyone’s in an uproar. Interpol is reportedly in on the hunt. There were twenty-six passengers killed onboard Rune’s plane. They’re taking this as some serious shit.”

“Yeah, well I’m taking it as some serious shit too. Get back in the cockpit, put your headphones on, and listen in on all the chatter. If they catch the bastards, I want to know, for I will rip them apart with my bare hands! Because if I had my Rune, I wouldn’t have need for this mouthy hellion.”

Kenzie was about to thank him fer the compliment when a two-man white service truck roared toward their jet. Heaven help them, it was the two culprits airport security was looking for! A big guy with a ball cap worn backward on his chestnut hair and a short, bald-headed dude driving. Oh God, Fauste’s smack to her head must have gotten her concussion acting up again. She could swear the bald dude was wearing bright pink lipstick and green earrings.

She shifted in her seat to warn Fauste, who was prancing and raving like a lunatic, and thought better of it; for all she knew, she was hallucinating and the service vehicle and the man in pink lipstick werena even there. She pressed her face against the window. The big fellow, about Bryce’s size, hefted a sword out of a lime green purse. Oh sweet Lord, it
was
Effie, without her wig.
Effie and the love of me life.

Both scrambled out of the little truck. Bryce limped toward the Gulfstream. He’d come. Just as he’d kept chanting to her. Her man had come to save her.

Effie, in blue coveralls rolled up several turns and green high heels, charged into the cabin first, heading straight fer her. “Don’t move. Bryce must do this. He must become barbaric to save you.”

Fauste, in a state of near lunacy, whirled and, seeing the bald head, bellowed with outrage as he dove fer Effie. She spun out of his way.

The wizard barely had time to react when Kenzie’s Highlander roared into the seating area, bloodlust in his eyes and wielding a strange-looking dagger over his head. Effie foot-swept Fauste. He stumbled against the wall of the cabin. Bryce stabbed Fauste once in the heart, withdrew the blade, and, with a Gaelic curse, jabbed him in the neck. Fauste dropped to his knees, blood spurting from his jugular.

“Quickly, Bryce. Navel! Navel!” Effie ran behind Fauste, wrapped her arm around his bleeding neck, and pulled him back so his navel was exposed.

Bryce drove the weapon home.

Effie lifted her head and spoke:

“Our chosen hero did not waver,

Heart, the jugular, then the navel.

The evil wizard has surely died,

In hell’s eternity, he must reside.

This ancient weapon ye blessed

Can now come home to rest.”

Effie extended her arms. “Lay the dagger here, Bryce.” No sooner had it touched her forearms than the weapon shimmered a blinding golden light and was gone. Effie removed Kenzie’s cell phone from the top pocket of her coveralls and dialed a number. “It’s done. We’re all okay except for one dead sumbitch.”

Bryce, his face, neck, and right arm blood-splattered, hobbled toward Kenzie, and she unbuckled her seat belt so she could reach him. Blood or no, never had a man looked so handsome, so virile. His left arm snaked around her waist and drew her to him so tightly she didna know if she could breathe. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Ye protected me. Ye promised ye would and ye did. I love ye.”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Ye are me woman. No one takes ye from me without paying. I’m sorry ye had to see me be violent. Beloved, that doesna mean I’ll ever be violent with ye.”

She burrowed closer to him, as if she could immerse herself in his skin. “I ken ye are a good, loving, and gentle man. Aye, strong as hell in all ways. I want to kiss ye.”

“Not when I’m covered in that evil man’s blood, me sweetheart.”

Footsteps hurried up the steps and into the cabin. Kenzie pulled far enough away from Bryce to identify the men who filled the jet—Creighton, Ronan, Kendric, Earnan, Hamish, and Neilan. How had all these men traveled here so quickly to rescue her? Earnan carried his medical bag as he expertly inspected Bryce. He set the kit on a seat, opened it, and removed alcohol wipes. “Use these to clean off the blood. Kenzie, help him out of those blood-splattered coveralls. We need him cleaned up, and quickly.”

The elderly doctor pivoted toward Effie and pulled her into a tight embrace. Fer a split second, her widened eyes locked on Kenzie’s in shock. Then she closed them and, on an audible sigh, returned his hug.

Kendric knelt to examine the body. “His hands are empty. I didna want to explain a button or an earring in his clasp. No one touch anything. Am I clear?” He looked over at Effie. “Get out of those coveralls and use a couple of Earnan’s wet wipes. Your wig? Where is it?”

“In my bag, in the helicopter.” She unzipped and wiggled out of the baggy work clothes.

“The ‘wee’ weapon?” Kendric pierced her with a sharp glare.

Effie shrugged. “It has magically disappeared to the wizards who guard such things.”

Both pairs of coveralls were laid on the floor on top of each other and rolled up, with all the alcohol wipes and wrappers tucked neatly inside. Kendric looked to Creighton. “Yer our college track runner. Take this bundle to the helicopter, shove it under the floorboards where I keep tools, and bring back Effie’s wig.”

Creighton snatched the bundle. “Will do. Effie, where will I find yer wig?”

“In the outside pocket of my purse.”

He stopped before he stepped out of the cabin and pierced Bryce with a concerned gaze. “Are ye okay, brother?” Bryce nodded. “
ʼ
Twas a fine job ye did. Damn, I’m proud of ye.”

Kendric, still in policeman’s mode, stood in front of Kenzie. “Yer lip is swollen. Did Fauste do that?”

“He backhanded me after I got smart with him.”

“How did he abduct you?” Kendric ran a hand down his face. “God, I canna imagine how I’m going to write up a report on all this.” He scowled at Effie and then chuckled. “Me superiors will put me on psychiatric leave for sure.”

“I had me car parked under a security light in the hospital parking lot. When I came out to go to the store, moths were flying around the light. One flew down and changed into Fauste. His Rolls-Royce was parked next to me car and he shoved me into it. I fought, but it all happened so quickly. Who would think a man could make himself into a moth?” The shudders of fear and terror began, as did her sobs. Within a heartbeat, Bryce had her enveloped in his arms.

“No more.” He extended an open hand in a stop gesture to Kendric. “Me sweet woman has been through enough.” He kissed her hair and forehead. “I willna allow her to experience any more pain. Not today. Talk to her tomorrow.” There was safety in Bryce’s arms. A security she’d never had before.

Creighton returned and handed Effie her wig. He slipped a knife in each of Bryce’s and Kenzie’s pockets. “Ye’ll both ken when ye’ll need these. Call airport security, Kendric. We’re ready.”

“While we wait fer the officers, will ye allow me to put yer wig on ye, Effie? A good Scottish man lives to take care of his woman, and I’ve decided to woo ye.” Earnan gently tugged her hairpiece over her bald head. Then he wove arthritic fingers through her curls. He removed a knife from his pants pocket. “Here’s yer weapon, me beloved.”

“Well now, we’ve got a lot of talking to do before we reach the ‘beloved’ stage.” Effie palmed Earnan’s cheek. “But I’m willing to give it a go once I find my love beads.”

Within minutes, security boarded the jet. Kendric reported how the dead man had abducted his cousin’s fiancée with plans to fly her to Romania against her will. How he had a sick obsession with Kenzie, slicing her throat and injuring her at every opportunity. He explained how the eight of them had flown in helicopters to find and rescue her.

The pilot opened the door and stepped out of the cockpit. “Sounds like we can take off soon, boss. Security…” His gaze widened as it swept the crowd in the cabin, and when it settled on the dead body, he smiled. “So, the bastard finally got what was coming to him. He was evil as evil can be. I worked for him because he threatened to rape my wife and daughter if I didn’t.”

Head of security looked around, his eyes narrowed. “So, who stabbed him?”

“I did,” everyone but the pilot said in unison. Each pulled out a knife to show how he or she had committed the deed.

“Ye…ye all did?” The man pointed to Fauste’s body. “I see three wounds and nine people each holding a knife. None of which look big enough to make these cuts.” The head of security placed his hands on his hips. “So I’m asking again. Who killed this man?”

Each of them reiterated, “I killed him.”

A couple hours later, all nine “murderers” were flying home in the two helicopters they’d used to fly into Glasgow. Kenzie sat curled on Bryce’s lap. He held her legs off his injured thigh and she held her hand over the part of him she owned—his heart. He couldna bear being separated from her again.

“Earnan? Do I need to go back to the hospital? Canna I just go home and rest in me own bed?” He’d insist Kenzie stay with him. They could sleep every night spooned together, naked and sated.

“How’s the pain level?”

Bryce grinned. “Do ye really think ye’d get an honest answer from me about that?” At the doctor’s glare, he sobered. “That shot ye gave me must still be working. I dinna feel a thing. I’m holding me woman close, so all I feel are peace and happiness.”

“I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon to check on ye and give ye a schedule fer your physical therapy. Ye’ll need to strengthen yer thigh again.”

A sleepy voice entered the conversation. “Believe me, Doc. I’ve got all the therapy this man needs.”

What his love spoke was truth. After these past fourteen hours, he needed her so badly he ached. He looked at his wounded witch, with her swollen mouth and all her stitches. A more beautiful woman he’d never seen.

“Cousin, what are the chances of your landing this bird at Matheson Lodge?”

Kendric nodded. “Can do. Call our wee sweet bairn and tell her to start watching the sky fer us in about thirty minutes. Doc, ye and Effie want me to drop ye off too?”

“Nay. She still has tests scheduled on her heart later today.” The old man glanced back at the snoring American. “I want to be with her when she goes through that. Then I’ll drive her home to Iverson with some strict orders to rest.”