From his lofty advantage, a middle-aged man in a powdered wig stared down at her with pursed lips from over a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. His mouth drew a cruel line, matched only by the coldness in his eyes. She had no idea who he was, but he looked like an asshole.
“Damn. Pull the bayonet out of your ass.” She moved on to the next portrait. This one was of a portly woman with feathers in her hair, pink cheeks, and a fan in her hands. Her Mona Lisa smile made Avery feel like she was keeping a secret. “Ooh la la. How did you know Nathaniel?” She giggled under her breath.
She had to pass another bedroom to reach the next portrait—this one clearly of Nathaniel, although his hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail and he was dressed in a neckcloth and tailcoat. She chuckled. Clarissa needed to see this tomorrow. And if she’d already seen it, Avery wanted to be there to needle her about it. So weird. It was much easier to forget about the age difference when her mate didn’t look like Paul Revere.
She sidestepped to the next picture. Everything stopped. Even her breath halted in her lungs. Cerulean eyes stared down at her from over a straight-edged nose and full lips in a perfectly symmetrical face with a strong chin. Long, auburn hair collected around his shoulders, the color somewhere between light brown and red. It contrasted sharply with the plaid that cut across the formal-looking coat he wore. Clearly he was Scottish. If the facial features weren’t a dead giveaway, the kilt was. The portrait cut off at the hip, but she could make out the top of the kilt, a sword belt and sporran.
“Who are you?” she asked the painting in breathless wonder. Her finger hovered over the canvas, and she tried to curb her desperate urge to touch. She could stare at that face all day. What was it about him she found so interesting? The mouth, she decided. The corner of his lips turned up impishly like he was up to no good, and the twinkle in his eye seemed to share the mouth’s general disdain for authority. It was at odds, that twinkle and quirk, with the formality of the uniform. This was a man who was true to himself. This was a man who made his own rules.
She would like to meet this man.
“You found Xavier.”
Avery leaped back and spun to find Nathaniel in the hall in a pair of black silk pajamas. She placed a hand on her pounding heart. “You scared me! I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. I was having trouble sleeping. Again.”
“Again. Right.” They’d run into each other before in the middle of the night. It seemed they both suffered from insomnia. “I’ve never been in this part of the house.”
“I don’t normally room people down here. It’s such a long walk from the central part of the manor. Plus it sometimes gets cold in the winter months.”
She casually pointed at the painting. “Did you say this was Xavier? Your brother?”
He nodded slowly. “I commissioned it in 1745, the last time I saw him in person.”
She looked at him and then back at the painting. “I thought you all went your separate ways when you arrived here in 1698?”
“We did. But Xavier sought me out that year. He needed my help with something. Something only I could do.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It was. Xavier and I traveled together for almost a year before I settled in London and he moved north to Scotland. There, he endeared himself to the chief of Clan Campbell, Archibald, first Duke of Argyll.”
“He joined a Highland clan?” Avery’s knowledge of Highlanders was limited to what she’d learned in romance novels. She looked at the portrait again and tried to remember anything she’d read about the Campbells.
Nathaniel nodded. “Xavier’s skills with a sword were unparalleled among humans. Of course they would be, considering he was a dragon warrior who trained in the pits of Paragon from the time he was a boy. He was one of the toughest, you know?”
“Raven told me the fights were fixed so that Marius would always win.”
“Oh yes, that’s true. We all understood we were not allowed to beat Marius because he was the eldest heir. But if anyone could have, it would have been Xavier. I was never much of a fighter myself, but even Gabriel wouldn’t take on Xavier if he didn’t have to.”
“Hmm.” Avery stared up into the blue eyes of the portrait.
“He was initiated into the Campbell clan, and over time advanced to be war chieftain. That was a rare honor as he arrived as an outsider, an outlander as the Highlanders called us. But the thing about dragons is we can change our appearance to look any way we wish, and we have magic that allows us to understand and speak any language we hear. Over time, he grew close to Archibald and even married his second daughter, Lady Jane.”
Avery felt on odd and unexpected weight on her chest to hear Xavier was married, despite the nuptials occurring centuries ago. She pushed the strange and uninvited feeling aside. Was she crushing on an oil painting?
“He didn’t love Jane, of course,” Nathaniel added for some strange reason. “The marriage was only to serve to cement Xavier’s relationship to the Campbells. It made him truly one of them, although they never actually knew where he’d come from. Archibald, Xavier said, suspected he was a fairy.”
“A fairy?” Avery chuckled.
“The Highlands are full of fae, Avery. Most humans believe the stories of the wee folk are all folklore, but as you have been inducted into the supernatural, I feel no guilt informing you that fairies are real, very dangerous, and not a bit wee at all. In fact, they look just like humans when they have their wings tucked away. Mischievous devils. Archibald would have felt quite powerful having one in the family, and certainly Xavier fit the bill. He was unnaturally strong, healed quickly from injury, and never seemed to age.”
“So Archibald knew he wasn’t quite human but was simply happy to have him in the clan?”
“Exactly. Archibald died in 1703 and was replaced by his son John. All was well until the Jacobite uprising of 1715 when James Francis Edward Stuart attempted to regain the thrones of England, Ireland, and Scotland for the exiled House of Stuart. He failed, but England learned he had support in the Highlands. So by 1725, the Campbells, who were loyal to the crown, were enlisted to be part of the Black Watch, six companies of trustworthy Highlanders tasked with the purpose of crushing any remaining Jacobites.
“But over the next twenty years, it was clear the Jacobite cause was again gaining traction. Those were dark and difficult times. Xavier could see the writing on the wall. Soon clan would turn against clan, and England would bring the full weight of its fist down upon the Highlands.
“One thing you should know about Xavier is he’s a man of honor. He puts a high price on fairness. During all his time with the Campbells, he refused to abuse his power even when it would have benefited his chieftain. He hated war, especially the idea of a war among his own kind. John Campbell secretly shared Xavier’s concerns, and after an exceptionally bloody skirmish, the two men had a meeting of the minds.” Nathaniel walked toward the painting and looked fondly up at his brother.
“He’s a pacifist?”
Nathaniel glance at her and laughed. “No. Xavier is a warrior, but he has to feel he’s fighting a just war.”
“So what did he do?”
“By that time, it was clear that Xavier wasn’t aging, so John was sure he must be a fairy. He asked him to use his fairy magic to hide and protect a portion of the clan, to keep them safe from the war that was to come. That’s why he came to me. Dragons, you see, have the innate ability to protect their treasure.”
“I remember. Alexander has a cave in Sedona that’s warded against the supernatural. And Nick told me that Rowan created an entire hidden city for her best friend, Harriet, and her people. This place, Mistwood—you can’t even see it from the road. It seems to take up no space.” Avery shook her head. Dragon magic was amazing.
Nathaniel nodded. “Exactly. Xavier needed something bigger.”
Avery crossed her arms. “How big are we talking?”
“Together we created a pocket near Bidean
nam Bian, the highest point in what used to be the county of Argyll. What you need to understand, Avery, is we were doing something no dragon had ever done before. We didn’t just ward a part of the land; we copied space.”
Avery shook her head. “Copied space? What does that mean?”
“We didn’t take existing acreage and fold it into a pocket; we expanded what was there, duplicated it. Xavier and I, with help from the fairy kingdom, created a land that had never existed before. You won’t find it on any map, but it is big enough to support thousands of Highlanders for multiple lifetimes. We created roughly six hundred square miles and protected it with the strongest wards known to our species.
“Nothing supernatural can get through those wards, and no human can find the doorway inside. The Campbells who stayed behind wiped all memory of Xavier from their history. Several hundred Highlanders followed my brother into that pocket of space, which he named the builgean—bubble in Gaelic—not just Campbells but others who wanted to avoid the coming battle. Xavier became the chieftain of a new branch of Clan Campbell that still exists today, locked in a world that has branched off from us since 1745.”
Avery shook her head. “What are you saying? That he never came out?” She laughed. The thought seemed ludicrous. Certainly the people would eventually long to travel beyond the borders of the wards.
“Never. Xavier rules over a land of perpetual abundance, fed by his dragon energy. A land where presumably the world is the same as it was in 1745. A land completely cut off from the modern world.”
“But surely you’ve visited him over the centuries. You helped design the wards!”
Nathaniel shook his head slowly. “Although my magic is incorporated into the wards, his is as well, and fairy magic. As a supernatural, even I can’t get through. Over the centuries, Xavier has sent a few human scouts out and they’ve brought me messages of his well-being. I’ve provided them with some simple pleasures on occasion. Books mostly. Ideas. They told me stories of their existence before I returned them to the pocket, but since the day of its creation, I’ve never ventured inside.” He looked at her then, in the direct way of a dragon, an idea sparking amethyst in his normally gray eyes. “But you can, Avery. You’re still human. I can bring you to the door. I’m the only one who knows where it is. You can go through and tell my brother what is happening in Paragon. You can tell him that we need him.”
“What?” It felt like he’d knocked the wind from her lungs.
“Witches, dragons, and vampires are supernatural. They can’t get through. That means, of the people who know us and understand the situation in Paragon, only you or Nick can go through the door. Nick is mated to Rowan and any length of separation will be torture for her, especially if she has no way to contact him. She’ll try her hardest to keep him from going, and if he does anyway, she’ll be inconsolable until his return.”
“But I don’t have a mate.” Avery chewed her bottom lip.
“You don’t have a mate.”
“And I have no power.”
He nodded.
“You want me to retrieve your brother from a place you haven’t seen since 1745.” Avery tried to process the words as she said them, but they overloaded her brain.
Nathaniel faced Xavier’s portrait. “You have another advantage, Avery. You’re a woman. You have a better chance of reaching him. The Highlanders will be much less threatened by a strange woman than a strange man.”
Avery stared back at the portrait again.
“You don’t have to decide now.” Nathaniel sighed. “It’s a lot to ask, especially considering what you’ve been through the past few days.”
“Considering I haven’t had my stitches out yet and I’ve just discovered I have a sister I never knew about, I think dropping into an experiment in time and space is more than my mind can digest at the moment.”
“I understand.” Nathaniel brushed his fingers over the base of the frame. “It’s a good likeness,” he said absently.
Avery blinked at the compelling eyes staring down at her and flushed at the warmth that pulsed through her again. She mumbled a good-night to Nathaniel, excused herself, and hurried back to her room.
Chapter Four
The next day, Avery, along with Clarissa and Raven, took their mother into London to show her some of the sights. Avery fought an overwhelming exhaustion. She’d been up most of the night thinking about what Nathaniel had asked her to do. She couldn’t possibly do it, could she? Allow him to drop her into a place that was most likely frozen in time on the off chance she could persuade Xavier to return to the modern world?
She was sure it would be physically dangerous. There would be no paved roads or cars in the bubble. Most likely, it would be emotionally traumatizing as well. She had no idea what she’d meet on the other side of the wards. But her most disturbing thought as she considered the proposal was that for reasons she could not explain, she wanted to go. The bubble embodied everything she wanted to experience by breaking from the Three Sisters. It would be an adventure. There was no way to plan for it really. She’d have to survive on her own wits and muscle. Not only that but she was drawn to Xavier—the moment she’d seen his image, she’d been rocked with pangs of curiosity and probably infatuation.
Which, yes, was a problem. Nothing good ever came from infatuation. It was the thing that made you take the wrong bus three miles out of your way just so you could sit behind a handsome man and try to work up the courage to ask him on a date. It was why you watched the same movie again and again just to swoon over an actor that made your heart beat faster. Infatuation made people idiots.
Despite knowing that in her head, she couldn’t stop thinking about the painting of Xavier or of going into the bubble. If she said no, if she refused, who would go and tell Xavier about his family and the troubles in Paragon? Not Nick. She couldn’t do that to Rowan.
“Avery? Earth to Avery.” Her mother waved a hand in front of her face, her long, narrow nose wrinkling with her smile.
“Oh, um, sorry. I was daydreaming.”
Sarah laughed. “I see that. I asked you if you liked this dress. I think it would look perfect on you.”
Avery glanced at the wrap dress in her mother’s hands. “It’s a little formal for my taste. It looks like something someone would wear to an office.”
Mom shrugged. “It’s perfect for when you come home and I promote you to manager. You’ll have to dress more professionally if you want the staff to take you seriously.”
Avery glanced at Raven, but help was not coming from that direction. “I don’t think it’s for me, Mom.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s probably better to buy new clothes locally anyway in case they don’t work out.”
Avery stopped, a moment of clarity seizing her and not letting go. “No.”
“I heard you. I put it back on the rack.” Her mother continued to flip through the dresses in front of her.
“I mean no, I’m not going back.” From the moment she’d set foot in England, she’d known the Three Sisters wasn’t her future. For one pure second, everything was so clear. She couldn’t go back. It would smother her.
Sarah stopped what she was doing and grimaced like she’d just stabbed her in the heart. Avery’s stomach ached as she thought about the pain she was causing her mother. Could she do this to her? Maybe she was being selfish.
“What do you mean, you’re not going back?” Her mother stared at her with nothing but confusion on her face.
Avery cleared her throat and folded like a cardboard house made of paper drink coasters. “I mean obviously I’m eventually coming back. But I can’t go home right away. Nathaniel needs help with a special project, and he’s been so generous letting me stay here. It’s a great opportunity. I’m going to stay… for a while.”
Raven caught Avery’s eye and frowned. Her sister could always tell when she was lying.
Her mother took a step closer. “You can’t intend to continue working for Nathaniel.
Not after what happened. Aren’t you afraid you’ll be held up again working in that store?”
“This is a different opportunity, not at Relics and Runes.” She waved her hands. “Um, I’ll be fine, Mom, really. I just won’t be home… right away.”
“Well, how long will this project take?” The perturbed look on her mother’s face made her feel nine years old again and like she was thirty seconds from being sent to her room.
“I think Avery wants to explore a few opportunities before she goes home,” Raven said. “I think it will be good for her.”
Sarah gaped, shifting her gaze between them incredulously. “Okay.” She closed her eyes and nodded. “Enough said.” Turning on her heel, the older woman exited the store and strode down the street without them.
Avery tossed up her hands. “She’s practically signing the place over to me already!”
“You don’t want to go back, do you?” Raven peered knowingly at her sister.
Clarissa, who’d been shopping near the back of the store, joined them. “Why did Sarah just hustle out of here like the place was on fire?”
Avery rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “She’s upset that I’m not going back to New Orleans.”
“You’re not?” Clarissa glanced at Raven for answers and got only a shrug in response.
Avery turned and her two sisters followed, threading their arms into hers at the elbow.
“It’s just… It’s just…” Avery couldn’t find the words.
Raven shot her a serious look. “This is about more than the Three Sisters, isn’t it?”
Pop. Avery felt something inside her give way, and all her blood seemed to rush to her head. Her ears grew hot, and a desperate wave of emotions barreled through her. Resentment, anger, longing. She gasped. Tears flowed from her eyes like a dam had broken.
“Oh my… Avery, what’s going on?” Clarissa put an arm around her shoulders.
Highland Dragon Page 4
