Highlander’s Curse (27 page)

They’d need to work on her ability to move more stealthily if they planned to go undetected once they reached more populated areas.

Night had firmly settled her cloak over the land by the time they’d finished their meal of bread, cheese, and meat.

Abby spread out her blanket close to the fire and sat down, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “You were right. It does get a lot cooler when it gets dark. I’m glad you built the fire rather than listen to me.”

As if he would have allowed her to talk him into something so foolish.

He untied the strings on his blanket and crossed to her side of the fire, rolling out his bedding and laying it next to hers.

“What are you doing? I don’t need you to sleep next to me. I’m not afraid of the dark, you know.”

“The cold,” he patiently explained. “We’ll be more comfortable sleeping closer together as the temperature continues to drop.” Not to mention, he’d be more comfortable having her well within his reach throughout the night.

“Okay. I can accept that.” She rolled over, presenting her back to him, and pulled her blanket up over her ear, leaving only the top of her head peeking out.

He settled down next to her, contenting himself with listening to the gentle, lulling cadence of her breathing. He pushed back the accusing finger of guilt that prodded at his chest with each new sign of exhaustion Abby displayed. He could have led them in a more westerly track so that they would have spent their first night at the home of his sister and her husband. It would have meant the loss of a day’s travel time, but there would have been a warm bed at the end of their journey.

He’d avoided it on purpose. He didn’t have a day to spare. Not even for her comfort.

“How will you know where to find your friends?” Her voice was muffled by the blanket she’d pulled around her. “I mean, if the battle is over by the time we reach them, how will you know if they’re still alive? And if they are and they’ve moved on, how will you know where to look for them?”

He considered ignoring her, pretending to sleep, but his gut told him he’d tried deceit on Abby too often as it was.

“I’m cursed,” he said simply. “The only positive aspect of my curse is that it will allow me to track Dair and Sim no matter where they go, as long as they are alive.” And if they’d died because he was too slow, he’d know that, too.

“Cursed, huh?” She rolled over to face him, her head propped up on her arm. “I want to hear about that. Cursed, how? Tell me the whole story. How did you end up cursed?”

And so he told her. Everything. Every facet of his fateful encounter with the Faerie Queen. He described to her what he’d seen, what he’d heard, even what he’d felt that day, details he’d shared with no one else in all these years. Why he told her, he couldn’t say, other than that she had asked and he had found himself with no desire to deny her.

At one point she’d closed her eyes and he thought she might have fallen asleep, but when he stopped talking, she urged him to continue.

“I can almost see it in my imagination when I listen to your descriptions,” she said, and he found himself trying harder to find the perfect words to describe every detail.

“And what of you, wife?” he asked at last. “What are the gifts carried in yer Faerie blood?”

“I don’t really have any gifts.” She rolled to her back and cushioned her head with her arms. “I’d tell you I didn’t have any Faerie blood, either, but then I’d be at a total loss to explain how the heck I ended up here, wouldn’t I?”

The fire’s dying embers cast a glowing backdrop for her profile, encouraging him to drink in the sight of
her lying there with her eyes closed. He searched for something to ask, anything that might set her to talking so he could soak in the sound of her voice.

“How is it you came to be digging in the earth for worn-out trinkets in the Highlands of Scotland?”

Her lips curved into a smile that beckoned him. Only with great restraint was he able to resist reaching out and pulling her to him when she pushed herself up to sit.

“A dream called me. Sounds crazy, right? From the time I was a kid, I loved old things. My grandmother’s yellowed teacups, antiques stores, museums, you name it. The older, the better. By the time I hit middle school, I figured I must be meant to be an archaeologist. Always in my dreams there was one special ancient treasure calling out to me, waiting just for me to come to Scotland to find it. So when I got the chance, I jumped at it.” She yawned, her jaw stretching wide, followed by a relaxed little sigh. “If I have any gift, I guess it’s finding stuff. When I look for things, it’s as if I can hear them calling to me, tempting me with their stories and their histories. Things, mind you. Not people. Send me after any
thing
and I can find it.”

They’d talked late into the night. Time that should have been spent in sleep. Still, he’d not trade those moments with her. Not even for a well-rested tomorrow.

“We should get some rest now,” he assured her while lifting her blanket for her to lie back down.

Instead she leaned forward, placing the lightest of kisses on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For letting me inside those walls of yours.”

The blanket fell unnoticed as he pulled her close, his lips covering hers. He hadn’t intended anything of the sort, but in the moment, he had no choice.

Far from protesting, her hands slid into his hair and she pressed against him even as he lowered her to her back, covering her body with his.

The kiss deepened and he shoved at the yards of cloth she wore, urging her skirts up and out of his way. Her legs parted and he fit himself into the cradle she formed, pressing against her welcoming heat.

His fingers tightened on the blighted undergarment she wore. One sharp tug and he’d be home.

“Shit!” she squealed, her hands shoving at his chest even as she squirmed her way out from under him. “Holy shit!”

His breath came in great sharp gulps as he pushed up to his knees, guilt and anger warring at his own lack of control, battering him with each beat of his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, unable to meet her gaze until she pounded her fist into his chest.

“There!” she squeaked, “in the trees. He’s in the trees.”

Colin was on his feet, sword drawn, before she managed her next words.

“It was Jonathan. I swear to God, Colin, I saw Jonathan watching us.”

C
ome on now, up with you. We’ve miles to cover this day.”

Abby stretched, each of the pebbles and sticks on the hard ground beneath her making its irritating presence known.

“I finally feel sorry for that princess with the pea in her mattress,” she muttered, rolling to her knees.

“What’s that you say?”

Colin appeared to have been up for a while. He’d packed up their campsite and laid out a small square of cloth beside her, with a hunk of bread and some dried fruits arranged on it.

At the moment, she’d give her right arm to see a cup of coffee there in the mix.

“Nothing.”

Colin had to feel worse than her. The last time she’d
checked before falling asleep, he’d still been wide awake. Her whole hallucination about seeing Jonathan Flynn in the shadows had pretty much ruined any decent sleep for either of them

He bent to pick up her blankets, shaking them out before rolling them into a neat little bundle. “We need to put some speed under us this day.”

“I’m up for it.”

Assuming her head didn’t explode from caffeine deprivation. Of course, that was something she was going to have to get over if she ended up stuck in this time.

“Not going there,” she muttered to herself as she leaned down to splash cold water on her face.

Biting back a groan, she made her way over to her mount and climbed up on his back. She’d ridden horses all her life and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. But there was a big difference between a couple hours on horseback for fun and a full day on horseback for transportation.

“I’ve a sister who lives no too far from here. Maybe half a day’s ride. I’m thinking it best we take you there.”

Colin spoke without looking at her as if he half-hoped by not making eye contact she’d be more likely to fall for his line of crap.

“You said yourself we’re already in a race with time to reach your friends. Besides, if I didn’t choose to stay behind with people who at least knew where I came from, what makes you think I’d stay with this sister of yours?”

He shrugged, looking back before he spoke this time. “A day in the saddle. A night on the ground. It’s no so pleasant. There are dangers out here to be sure, wife.”

She’d love to tell him where he could put his dangers and that
wife
stuff, if only she had the energy. As it was, she hadn’t any to spare.

“Forget it. If this is because of what I thought I saw last night, you don’t need to worry about me. I was just exhausted and imagining things. We go on together.” The stiff back he presented her told her more than any words could. “So which way does your Spidey sense tell us to head this morning?”

“My what?”

His look of confusion was almost adorable enough to make her forget how miserable she felt. Almost, but not quite.

“Never mind. Which way to your friends this morning?”

“You’ve decided, then?”

She nodded her answer. “Hey, even if he really had been out there, I can’t imagine any place I’d feel safer than with you.”

He’d been quite formidable as he’d gone into warrior mode last night.

On his horse now, Colin stilled, his eyes searching hers before he closed them. A light seemed to radiate up from his face, flowing out in all directions before focusing like a laser and streaming directly ahead of them.

“This way,” he said, leading his horse off in front of her.

She tried to blank her mind, to lull herself into some sort of automatic pilot that would allow the hours to pass quickly.

Good Lord, this was only Day Two.

She should have gone right to sleep last night instead of gabbing for hours, but she’d really wanted to know how they were going to find these friends of Colin’s. And then when he’d opened up and began to tell her about his encounter with the Faerie Queen, there had been no way she was going to stop the conversation and just go to sleep.

Colin wasn’t much of a talker, and he didn’t strike her as someone who easily shared personal details of his life. That he’d decided to share some of those with her had made her feel closer to him. For a little while there, it had almost lulled her into believing he really cared about her.

Of course he’d gone and ruined it all this morning by trying to convince her to let him abandon her at his sister’s house. Though, thinking about it now, his attempt had seemed almost halfhearted.

“Yer no much of a morning person, are you?”

How long they’d been on the road when Colin at last slowed enough to ask his question, she had no idea. What she did know was that between the heat and the pounding she was taking on the horse, she was in no mood for any attempt at light conversation.

“I’m a great morning person when my morning is anything even remotely resembling civilized. Anyway, I think we left morning quite a ways behind us.” The rumble of her stomach as much as the sun in the sky assured her she was correct.

“We can stop for a short rest and a cold meal if you need to.”

She briefly considered refusing just so she could show him that she could keep going as long as he could, but her growling stomach won out.

“Good. Let’s do that.”

She pulled up on her reins and slid off her horse. The earth greeted her feet much sooner and much more forcefully than she expected, buckling her knees. Only her grip on the side of her saddle kept her from landing on her butt.

Though staying on her feet would probably be smarter, she found herself a fallen log and sat down on it, amazed at how comfortable it could feel to sit without having to straddle something.

Colin handed her more of the bread, cheese, and dried fruit they’d brought along with them and she settled back, munching quietly, deciding that she was quickly developing an aversion to all three foods.