Highlander’s Curse (39 page)

His sister-in-law’s touch carried with it the ability to heal, but she paid a heavy price for the use of her gift. What she healed, she took upon herself for a time. Neither he nor her husband wanted to see her go through that process.

“My head is fine. The wound will heal in time.”

“Your head is hard, that’s what it is,” she countered, taking her seat next to her husband’s chair. “As you say, it will heal on its own. Unless you bust it open having one of your temper tantrums.”

Drew patted his shoulder again before returning to sit next to his wife. “I ken yer need to do something, Col. But realize, there is a safer way. Safer for you and safer for yer lady. Blane will likely arrange an emissary
from the MacKiernan to the MacDougall to negotiate for yer Abby’s release. Once we hear word of—”

“Begging yer pardon, laird Drew.” A small boy ran into the great hall, stopping only when he reached the table across from Drew. “The wall guard asked that you come down. We’ve riders asking access to the keep. They say they’re kinsmen of yers. Two men, but one is injured.”

Colin was out of his seat and halfway to the entry door before the boy had finished speaking. It could be anyone. He had no reason to believe it was Dair and Simeon.

No reason but blind faith in the power of the Fae.

Drew was close on his heels as he hit the steps leading to the wall walk. He practically flew up the narrow spiral stairs, bursting through the door and not slowing until he could peer over the wall.

“Dair!” He recognized his kinsmen immediately.

“Thanks be to each and every one of the saints,” Dair called back. “Let us in. Sim needs attention, and I’ve news of yer wife.”

Colin took no note of the stairs he skipped over in his rush to get down from the wall walk. He threw himself headlong into the race, stooping to clamber under the rising gates to meet the horses inside the gate wall.

“Where is she?” He grabbed the reins that had fallen from Simeon’s hand, noticing for the first time the blood soaking the other man’s shoulder.

“Perhaps an hour’s ride from here. We were bringing her to you when she was taken from us.”

They’d reached the stairs, and others crowded around now, hands reaching up to help Simeon from
his mount even as Dair swung his leg over his horse and turned to face Colin.

“Taken by whom?”

Dair shook his head, his mouth drawn in a hard line. “I dinna ken the bastard’s name, but he was no a stranger to her. He did that to Simeon with some wee weapon he carried. Yer lady called it a gun.”

“Flynn.” Colin spat the name, cursing the very air the filthy Nuadian breathed. “Can you take me there?”

“Oh, aye, I can. I’ve only the need of a fresh horse and a good sword.” Dair laid a hand on his shoulder, none of his usual humor in evidence. “But I must warn you, Colin, she’s been hurt.”

Colin’s stomach knotted. “What happened?”

“One of MacDougall’s men attacked her when we made our escape. She fought him and took a boot to her ribs for her trouble.”

A white-hot rage gripped Colin’s guts, twisting and writhing inside him, pressing him to action.

“I want the man. I’ll have his bowels for dinner for what he’s dared. Once she’s found, you’ll lead me to him and I’ll make him pay for what he’s done.”

“Sorry, my friend.” Dair shrugged. “Any payment you take from that one will have to come in the next world. I had the pleasure in this one.”

Colin clenched his teeth together to hold back a primal bellow of frustration. “Painfully, I hope?”

“Oh, I’d imagine so,” his friend answered, lifting his hands in front of him to mimic the quick gesture of snapping someone’s neck.

It would have to do.

“Drew!” Colin yelled, but his brother had already reached his side.

“I heard. I’ve sent for the stable master. My men are at yer disposal, brother. My men and my own self as well. We’ll find her and we’ll bring her home.”

Colin broke toward the stables at a run. They’d find her. He just prayed to whatever gods cared to listen that they’d find her in time.

H
er body had given up flinching. It simply hurt too much now.

Abby struggled for anything even resembling a deep breath as Jonathan paced in front of her, stopping to lean down where she sat, her back against a tree.

For perhaps the tenth time he screamed at her, ordering her to “Try again!” with his face a mottled purple-red, spittle settling at the corners of his mouth.

“Tried,” she rasped. “Nothing happens.” Maybe it was eleven times. She’d lost count.

When her eyes drifted shut, she could almost will herself into that spot in her mind where the dreams took over. So close to the place she wanted to be. The dream place where Colin waited. She’d be safe if she could only run fast enough to reach his arms. He’d
catch her up and hold her tight and none of this would hurt her anymore.

“Try again. Say the damn words out loud. There’ll be time enough for rest when you’ve got me back where I belong.”

Her head jarred back against the tree when he slapped her, and a fresh new wave of pain flowed through her body.

Twelve.

“Move away from her, Nuadian.”

Abby forced her eyes open, surprised that her dream place had come to her, but in a bizarre déjà vu sort of way. It was like reliving those moments in the glen.

Colin entered from the trees, just as he had that day, but this time he carried an enormous sword in front of him.

“The only place yer going is to hell, on the end of my sword.”

Just as he had before, Jonathan lifted his arm, aiming the gun he held at Colin.

This was wrong somehow. The words were different and she couldn’t play her part this time. There was no knife for her to use.

“Or will it be on my sword?” Across the clearing, Dair stepped from the trees. “I did promise you’d no seen the last of me.”

Jonathan’s head swiveled in his direction, his arm swinging to aim at the newcomer.

And then, just like in all her other dreams, everything happened at once.

Two shots cracked from the gun, one after another.

Colin’s sword flashed down toward Jonathan, the sun glinting off the blade as if wielded by some avenging warrior out of mythology. Both the gun and Jonathan’s hand fell to the forest floor, bouncing when they hit like a poorly inflated rubber ball.

The air reverberated with his screams until Colin’s blade flashed again. Then there was only silence, and her magnificent dream warrior was at her side, gathering her into his arms.

C
olin?” Abby’s eyes fluttered open, dark and deep-set in her oddly pale face.

“I’m here, love,” he answered, just as he had all those other times she’d awakened on the ride back to MacQuarrie Keep.

When they entered the bailey, Leah waited at the head of the stairs, quickly taking charge and directing him to follow her to the nearest bedchamber.

“Leave us for a moment. Allow my maid and me to see what ails her. You can wait right outside the door if you like. It’ll only be a moment, I promise.”

“She’s strong. She’ll survive this.” Dair’s attempt to reassure fell short of its mark.

Colin nodded wordlessly, noting the look that passed between his brother and his friend. An unmistakable look of sorrow. Of pity. For him.

The bedchamber door opened, and Leah stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her before she spoke.

“I’m not liking what I’m seeing in there one little bit. At least two of her ribs are broken. She’s short of breath and there’s a wet, wheezing sound that’s really worrying me. I’m afraid the rib has punctured her lung.”

Colin felt as if he’d taken a tumble from a horse, falling, falling, waiting to hit the ground, knowing how bad it would hurt when the moment came.

“What can I do?”

He should have done something sooner. Should have insisted she go back to her own time. Should have gone with her if that’s what it took to get her to go. Instead, he’d dragged her deeper into danger and this is what it had gotten them: Abby lying in a bed behind that door, fighting for every breath like it was her last.

“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.” Leah sighed, crossing her hands over her stomach. “But there is something I can do.”

“No!” Drew stepped between them, taking her by the shoulders. “I can’t allow you to put yerself through that, Leah.”

“Allow me?” She pushed away from her husband, glaring at him. “I thought we’d had this whole
allow
conversation worked out some time ago. You don’t get to forbid me to do anything, dearest. That’s not part of our arrangement.”

Colin knew he should step in. He should say something now, insist that Leah not take this risk. But her risk could mean life or death for the woman he loved.

“And what about the babe?”

“First off, we don’t even know that there is a baby. We only suspect that I might be pregnant. And second, healing that woman in there isn’t going to hurt my baby. What do you expect me to do? What would you have me tell the child I might be carrying? ‘Oh, yes, little one, you did have an aunt once, but she died because I was too concerned about a little pain in my side to save her life’? I don’t think so, Drew. You should know me better than that.”

“Indeed, my dearling, I do.” Drew placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “And since we ken each other so very well, you’ll no be surprised when I say that if you insist on doing this, I must insist on being at yer side when you do.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She placed a hand on his arm before turning her attention to Colin. “I don’t want her to suffer any longer than she already has. Let’s do this thing now.”

She pushed open the bedchamber door, allowing him at last to rejoin his wife. Abby’s eyes were closed, her skin pale except for the swollen scrapes on one cheek.

Colin laid a hand over her breast, reassured that even though she fought for each quick breath, her heart still beat in rhythm with his own.

“Once I begin, I need to make sure you don’t touch her, do you understand? No one can touch either of us. The connection must be only between her and me.”

Colin nodded, his throat too tight to allow words. He stepped back from the bed to stand beside his brother to await what was to come.

Leah held her hands over Abby’s chest, fluttering them back and forth, hovering just above her ribs. From
the movement of her lips, he knew she spoke to Abby, likely explaining what she was doing, reassuring his beloved that all would be well. A low humming filled the room, obscuring her actual words.

He glanced at the ceiling, wondering for a moment if his brother had been negligent and allowed bees to take up residence in the keep, but there was no sign of any insect, even as the pitch and volume of the noise grew. Only when he was forced for the second time to drag the hair from his eyes did it occur to him that a wind had whipped up.

A wind inside the room.

The air between where he stood and the bed where his beloved lay began to shimmer and sparkle, as if it thickened and solidified before his very eyes. Tiny streaks of color shot through the air, dancing around him like the insects he’d sought only moments before.