Avenged by a Highland Laird

by Sky Purington

  He shook his head. “Nay.”

  “We must,” she insisted as her eyes whipped forward again.

  That’s when he saw it. A shadow shifting through the trees and closing the distance quickly.

  “Sven, Bryce, either one of you,” she said through clenched teeth as she held up her hands and began chanting. “I need your fire, or we will die here and now.”

  A heavy frown settled on Sven’s face as he shook his head. Bryce wore a frown to match. How else were they supposed to respond when Jessie was likely behind so much? From his Uncle Darach getting caught in another dimension for years to his cousin Fraser dying. She might say she was preserving Scotland’s future but based on what her warlock’s had done, all proof said otherwise.

  “We cannae provide you fire, lass,” Bryce replied, weapon at the ready as the warlock shifted closer. “We willnae.”

  “Your sister would be disappointed,” she whispered before she suddenly walked forward and her chanting increased.

  His sister? Ainsley? Though his twin had died in infancy, Christina claimed to have dreamt about her. That she was fully grown and standing beside Jessie and her warlocks. That she was watching out for Bryce from the afterlife.

  “What do you know of my sister?” he said aloud, following her as his inner dragon grew more upset. Had Jessie somehow trapped Ainsley’s spirit? Was she controlling her like she apparently controlled these warlocks? “What did you do to her?”

  “What she deserved.” Jessie stopped short and swung on him. “What she had coming.”

  Suddenly infuriated, his vision hazed with the red of the dragon. Before he could get another word out, however, he realized he had walked right into a trap. A powerful one at that.

  Spying the fire in his eyes, Jessie raised her arms and resumed chanting.

  What happened after that truly blew his mind.

  As her magic mixed with his dragon magic, a tunnel of fire and wind formed in front of them. An unavoidable tunnel that whipped them forward. The next thing he knew, they were standing in a cave near a crackling fire.

  “Bloody hell,” he roared, his sword aimed at her before the last embers of time-travel died away. “Dinnae ever use my dragon magic against my will again!”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly as she lowered her arms. “I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands.”

  “Och,” was all he managed to mutter. Stunned by what she had done, he was at a complete loss. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Even his inner dragon grappled with it. This half pint of a lass had just ensorcelled every part of him without his permission.

  Though momentarily speechless, he found his tongue soon enough as fresh anger bubbled up. “And what of my sister? Have you truly been in contact with her?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I said that to goad you into creating fire.”

  He glared at her. “I dinnae believe you.”

  Their eyes held as she remained silent and said nothing further.

  “Where are we?” Sven said, equally disgruntled as he eyed Jessie. “And how did you manipulate Bryce’s dragon fire like that?”

  “We’re near MacLeod Castle,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving Bryce’s as he held his blade at the ready. “You asked that I did not bring you there, so I didn’t.”

  His wary eyes never left hers as Bryce allowed his dragon senses to confirm that they were, indeed, in a cave system he had often played in as a youth. Damn her for bringing them so close to his castle. He might not have been overly specific but a lass as intelligent as she clearly was, knew she was in the wrong right now. Because one way or another, she had blatantly disregarded his wishes.

  “How did you know about this location?” he asked, adding to Sven’s previous questions. “I suggest you begin explaining yourself because I am moments away from putting this blade to use.”

  He set aside the fact she likely had the power to stop him before he did.

  A wizard had to have some pride after all. As did his inner dragon.

  Jessie slowly sank onto a nearby rock. Though it could be a show, this was the first time he noticed how tired she seemed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s past time I talk.” Her eyes met Sven’s, her exhaustion suddenly very obvious. “If I could just get a drink of water, I’ll tell you everything. All of it.”

  Though hesitant at first, it was clear Sven saw the same fatigue in her eyes because he handed over his skin of water.

  “Thank you,” she whispered before she took several deep but somehow dainty gulps before she closed her eyes in what appeared to be bliss. When she opened them again, she started talking.

  “When I was very young, around five, I knew I was different,” she said softly. “I could make Mama’s water boil for her tea in seconds and warm the air in the house when Grandfather put our money toward booze rather than bills. I could light the fireplace with a thought and grow vegetables in the garden just by touching the dirt.” Her eyes met theirs. “At ten, Grandfather burned down our house and died but not before I saved his magical book. That’s when I learned I could control the spiritual realm as well.”

  “I wasn’t only an empath,” she continued. “But an elemental witch able to manipulate not just four elements but the less talked about fifth element as well. Water, air, fire, earth, and spirit.”

  Quickly suppressed pain flashed in her eyes before she continued. “You see, Grandfather was like me only more powerful and far darker.” Her eyes landed on Bryce’s. “More than that, he possessed an unexplainable hatred toward Scotland. Mama always said it was because my grandmother, who died in childbirth, was from Scotland. After she passed away, he simply couldn't bear anything Scottish because it reminded him too much of her.” She shook her head. “But I always thought it went deeper.”

  “Why?” Sven asked.

  “I don’t know.” She frowned. “My great grandfather was from England and raised his son with a very narrow viewpoint of anyone not English. My mother thought in part that might have had something to do with his vengeance at the end...the picture he drew in his book.”

  “What picture?” Bryce said.

  “A picture that started me on the path that led me to this very moment.” She pulled a worn ancient looking book out of her pocket and handed it over. “A picture finally visible to others as Christina and Graham’s time loop closed.” Her eyes went between them. “A time loop I partly controlled in order to bring them together...them and their child.”

  Bryce’s brows flew up in surprise. “Christina’s pregnant?”

  A soft smile came to Jessie’s lips. “She is.”

  Bryce couldn’t help a grin as he finally lowered his blade. Graham deserved as much, and he couldn’t be happier.

  Yet as he opened the book and started leafing through, his grin dropped. If he wasn’t mistaken, these were expertly drawn images of his cousins and their lasses’ adventures. It was the last picture, however, that gave him pause.

  “Scotland is gone on this map,” he murmured. “’Tis but England.”

  “That’s right,” she said softly. “Just as Grandfather drew it all those years ago before he passed out drunk in bed and burned our house down. An image that always reappears no matter how many times I rip it out and try to dispose of it.” Her voice dropped another octave. “It was his last wish. A curse laid upon your country.”

  “I dinnae ken.” His eyes rose to hers. “How do you know that? How are you part of it?”

  “Standing outside my burning house, I opened the book and saw that picture,” she replied. “Moments later, with Grandfather dead, the curse began to manifest.” A haunted look lit her eyes. “When it did, the terrifying fire I had survived moments before seemed like a walk in the park.” Her eyes fell to the flames between them. “At the tender age of ten, I became master to every child’s worst nightmare. Creatures created out of pure hatred.”

  “Master.” Sven’s eyes narrowed on her. “Do you mean to tell us
you have been controlling these warlocks since you were a child?” His hand drifted to the hilt of the dagger at his waist. “And yet somehow, you have not become like them?”

  “I have been doing my very best not to.” She clenched her jaw and swallowed hard. “By doing so, I had to become a recluse if for no other reason than to keep them close and away from others as I formulated a plan. When most girls struggled with puberty and boys, I learned to repress fluctuating emotions and kept boys far, far away for their own safety.”

  “These warlocks were determined to destroy everything around them then?” Bryce asked.

  By this time, both he and Sven were sitting.

  “No, as long as I kept firm control, the warlocks preferred to stay near me.” Again, fear flashed in her eyes, but she blinked it away. “I knew if anyone came near, the warlocks would lash out. A teenage boy would get far more than he bargained for if he so much as glanced at me.”

  As she spoke and her life story became clearer, Bryce couldn’t help but feel sad for her. Having a mother from the twenty-first century, he knew what to ask. “What about school? Did you attend?”

  “No,” she whispered and shook her head. “Mama home-schooled me, and we made money off the land. Magic or not, I know herbs and home-remedies, so we started selling my stuff online and made enough money to make ends meet.”

  “I’m surprised a man as powerful as your grandfather, drunk or not, allowed his home to burn down,” Sven commented.

  “He might have been powerful but rarely used his magic,” she replied. “As far as I could tell, he preferred only two pastimes. Drinking and cruelty.” She shrugged. “Based on his level of arrogance, I honestly don’t think he thought he could die in such a simple way.”

  Bryce might not trust her, but it was troubling to think of any child living such a life.

  “What about your living arrangements after that?” Bryce asked. “Did you have enough money saved to rebuild?”

  Or did she just use magic? He decided not to ask that though, curious to see how much she would actually reveal on her own. So far she was surprising him with her forthrightness. Assuming, of course, that what she said was true. For all he knew she could simply be spinning a tale to gain their trust and sympathy.

  “Mama had enough in the bank to have some men come out and clear away the wreckage,” she said. “Then we started over.”

  Based on the way she said it, he knew times had been especially difficult.

  “What of the warlocks as you started over and grew older?” Bryce asked. “They must have been alarmed when you became friends with Milly, Lindsay, and Christina, aye?”

  “No,” she murmured. “Not when I was the one that made sure we met...not when they thought I was just making sure everything went as planned.”

  “Why would the warlocks not kill your friends immediately?” Sven countered. “Would that not have fulfilled the curse right away? Because how could Scotland’s history be saved without the connections they made with the MacLomains?”

  “It could not have, and that’s why we should all be very grateful that Grant and Adlin created the rings,” she replied. “Creating the rings helped control this curse from the very beginning. Flat out killing my friends at the start was not an option. Even without the gem igniting, the rings were powerful. MacLomain, Broun connections were once again a possibility. Then, as you know, it was a matter of each couple finding true love and harnessing the power of their ring.”

  “How many warlocks were there?” Bryce asked.

  “Six, some more powerful than others,” she replied. “To go up against four men of MacLomain blood.” Her eyes went between them. “In the end, though you don’t know it yet, Christina and Graham battled two warlocks. That leaves just two more.” She inhaled deeply. “Neither of which will be easy to destroy.”

  Before Bryce could say more, she continued answering his questions. “As I said, opening that book unleashed a curse. One that gave me control over my grandfather’s minions but only to a degree. They were still able to influence the creation of the rings and put all of this in motion. All I could do was try to stay one step ahead.” She took another sip of water. “That meant casting a spell that made sure I met Milly, Lindsay, and Christina.” She pressed her lips together. “That meant starting the most important friendships of my life on a complete lie.”

  “Did you force them to like you then?” Bryce murmured before he could stop himself. “Were they under the influence of magic as you became friends?”

  “No, magic just nudged them in the right direction,” she said. “One step closer to creatures that wanted to destroy them and their one true love.”

  “You say you were there when the rings were made,” Sven said. “And that you knew you were meant for...Bryce?”

  “I was there through my connection to my...the warlocks,” Jessie said, white-knuckling the skin as her voice grew even softer. “Based on my connection to fire above all else, I knew the strongest possibility lay with a dragon.”

  He noticed that she seemed a little less disgusted by the notion of a dragon now and surmised she must have been on the defense before. He scowled when he felt pleased by her change of attitude. But then what dragon wanted to be so disliked?

  “So you never knew for sure if you were meant for me,” Bryce said, not sure if he was relieved or not. Why wouldn’t he be? The lass could be lying through her teeth. But something about her, mayhap the vulnerable look in her eyes when they met his, told him otherwise.

  Could it be she was telling the truth? That she had seen such horrors and lived such an unfortunate life because of one man’s dark nature? More than that, was she so courageous that she forfeited her life to fix his mistake no matter how terrifying it had to have been?

  “No, I never knew for sure if we were meant to be together.” Her eyes flickered over the ring and landed on the fire. “But as I got to know my friends then felt the essence of your cousins, I had less and less doubt.”

  “The essence of my cousins?”

  She nodded. “Even before they were born their spirits had an essence.” Her eyes returned to his. “That, without Grant and Adlin knowing it, was part of what poured into the creation of the rings.” Her eyes dropped to her ring again. “The other part was ours. We Brouns.”

  “How could the warlocks even be there when Grant and Adlin did such a thing?” Bryce asked, still trying to comprehend it. “It seems far-fetched even by wizardly MacLomain standards.”

  “Because my grandfather created the curse that birthed them. The very curse that prompted Adlin and Grant to do what they did,” she said. “That’s all it took.” She shook her head. “After that, it gave them access to everything interconnected.”

  “Including you,” Sven said, clearly putting all the pieces together. “But it didn’t matter because you had already seized control. You were already plotting with them so that they would not plot alone.”

  Jessie nodded and looked at Sven. “That’s right.” Then her eyes met Bryce’s. “I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you and your family...that I couldn’t warn anyone. They would’ve known...”

  “That you were never on their side,” Bryce finished her sentence when she trailed off. “That you were always opposed to both your grandfather and his curse.”

  She nodded but said nothing.

  Bryce handed her his skin of water as well then resumed flipping through the little book. What would it have been like to be ruled by this? Better yet, so connected to the creatures that came from it? “It had to have been hard...” his eyes rose to hers, “not just controlling them but not becoming connected to them after so many years. Your childhood, adolescence then adulthood.”

  “I did become connected to them,” she said more bluntly than he anticipated. “I still am in a way that’s hard to understand let alone explain.”

  When her eyes fell to the fire again, he realized that was the only way she knew how to express herself. Actual expressions relaying how
she felt were foreign. So she hid her gaze in the flames rather than embrace something she had been living without for so long. Something she had long repressed.

  Simple emotions.

  “But as each warlock perishes,” she continued, “I feel different. Lighter.” Her eyes met his again. “And I find hope in that...hope that it’s not too late for me.”

  While he appreciated her honesty and felt a protective response to her he had not anticipated, he still found himself unable to trust her. “These warlocks have been trying to kill me and mine.” He cocked his head. “And they have claimed to do so on your orders. That is, assuming, you’re the wee witch Conall and Lindsay’s warlock talked about then Christina and Graham’s as well.”

  “I am,” she said softly. “And he, the first warlock, was obeying my orders. The second one as well...somewhat.”

  “He,” Sven murmured. “As though the warlock was worthy of being called a man.”

  Bryce didn’t miss Jessie’s slight flinch though her expression smoothed almost immediately.

  “When you spend nearly two thirds of your life with manifestations that are masculine,” she murmured, “you tend to forget that they should be referred to as it.”

  He nearly narrowed his eyes but stopped himself. Had he detected a slight bite to her voice?

  “Tell us more about these final warlocks,” he said. “Why will they be more difficult than the others to destroy?”

  “Both are strong but one, upon its birth, captured something the other lacked,” she murmured. “The power of my grandfather’s essence.”

  He frowned. “That doesnae sound good.”

  “It’s not,” she replied. “Actually, nothing could be worse.”

  “Because he was so powerful?” Sven supplied.

  “Yes.” Her eyes flickered between them again. “Not only that but he’s more connected to me because of it. Connected as only kin can be to kin.”

  Bryce considered that. “What does that mean exactly?”

  “It means there’s a tether between us that goes beyond what I shared with the other five,” she explained. “He can sense me easier. Especially if I’m not surrounded by rock and near fire.”