“’Tis not for me to question my elders,” he said. “All I know is that this match was important for the future of the MacLeods and that’s all that matters.”
It was clear he was proud of his clan and had no wish to let them down. Yet... “I guess I can’t really blame you for wanting out of this marriage, but the question remains. Aren’t you, by wanting to be with a Broun, letting your kin down? They have to be aware of what you’re up to.”
“Aye, I cannae say I’m overly proud of my actions in light of just that,” he conceded. “But even they know a connection such as this is necessary to save Scotland. And our country must come before our clan.”
She supposed she understood where he was coming from. It might not seem the noblest of things, but then she hadn’t walked in his shoes. What would it be like to be told you had to be with a complete stranger? Even worse, that they would never love you?
“Yet I fear despite my secret desires not to fulfill this marriage pact,” he murmured, “’twill come to pass anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because ‘twas my twin sister, Ainsley, who shared it with Grandma.” His voice was a little gruff. “A few years after she died in infancy.”
Well, damn.
“I’m so sorry.” Chills rushed through her as she remembered her dream. “I need to tell you something, Bryce. Something that might be hard to hear...or maybe just confuse things even more...”
He stopped and met her eyes, concerned. “What is it, lass?”
“There was someone else in my dream besides Jessie and the warlocks.” She tried to keep her voice steady under his intense appraisal. “Someone claiming to be your sibling...your sister.”
There was no missing the turbulence in his eyes at her words. “What did she say? What did she look like?”
“She was beautiful with the same golden eyes as you,” she said softly. “She didn’t say anything else, but I got the impression she was there to protect you...even though you weren’t technically there.” She couldn’t stop a sigh. “One thing’s for sure, she definitely seemed a whole lot less creepy than Jessie.”
Bryce frowned as he seemed to mull over her news. “She has only ever appeared in Grandma’s vision...then now.” His eyes dropped to her ring before returning to her face. “When you awoke your gem matched my eyes.” He took her hand. “’Tis telling that, aye?”
“It’s something, but I don’t know what that is, honey.” She tried to keep her words soft and respectful. “I want to be with Graham, Bryce. I want to see where things go with him.”
Funny, until she actually said the words out loud, she wasn’t entirely sure.
Now she was.
Almost as if he sensed her thoughts, which he very well might have, Graham turned back and joined them. His eyes locked on their adjoined hands as he approached. She didn’t need to hear his thoughts. They were written all over his face. He was wondering if she and Bryce patched things up so well that they had decided to give it a go.
Christina squeezed Bryce’s hand before she pulled away and smiled at Graham. “Hey there, darlin’. Everything okay?”
His eyes went from Bryce’s to hers. “I can only hope.”
“Everything is well enough betwixt Christina and me,” Bryce rumbled, a flicker of fire in his eyes. “Time will tell how well it is betwixt you and me, Cousin.”
Graham’s brows lowered, and his eyes narrowed in challenge at Bryce as he took her hand. “Aye, then.”
Grant frowned at the men then gave her a pleasant smile before he waved them along. “Come on, everyone. ‘Tis best to find shelter before the rain comes.”
A few steps later, he stopped short. Evidently sensing something as well, Graham and Bryce stopped, and their eyes swept over the late-day forest. The next thing she knew they were ducking down behind a boulder as Bryce’s words entered her mind. “Dinnae make a sound, lass. A band of Sassenach are heading this way.”
She nodded as the men drew their blades and peeked over the rock.
“Let me help,” she said. “I can fight too.”
“Nay,” Graham whispered, evidently hearing her telepathic conversation with Bryce. “That isnae necessary.”
At first, she thought he had whispered aloud until an unusual rush went through her. “Graham, did you just speak within my mind?”
“Nay, he spoke within my mind,” Bryce said. “And it seems you heard it.”
She frowned at them. “Is that normal?”
“Aye,” Grant said, joining their conversation. “But typically only after you’re well established with your one true love. Then you can speak to several of us at once. Right now, it seems, Bryce is a conduit betwixt you and Graham.”
“Or Graham is just intruding on a conversation he doesnae belong in,” Bryce muttered.
“I think I belong in a telepathic conversation with my lass before ye do,” Graham shot back.
Bryce’s brows shot up. “Yer lass?”
“Enough!” Christina exclaimed before Grant had a chance to. “Don’t you guys think we should worry more about the bad guys right now?”
“I couldnae agree more,” Grant added. “Because ‘tis a good sized band. At least fifty.”
Graham and Bryce might be at odds with each other, but in the face of danger, they began to work very well together.
“There is a chance they might pass without detecting us,” Bryce began.
“But ‘tis best to assume otherwise,” Graham continued as he handed her a blade despite his reservations. “’Twould be best if you stayed with Grant, lass. He isnae as young as he used to be and has been injured recently.”
“Och,” Grant muttered. “I can fight well enough if need be.” His eyes went between the men as it began raining. “Unless your life’s on the line, dinnae use magic. ‘Tis far too risky.”
They nodded as Bryce peeked over the edge again. “They’re nearly here.”
After that, it became a waiting game as the English slowly but surely began passing. Christina held her blade tightly and barely breathed the entire time. Every once in a while, her eyes would go to Graham who always offered a look of reassurance. He was remarkably calm, and it did her pounding heart good.
It was one thing being dragged into that courtyard back at the castle. She had no time to think just act. This time it was different as her gift ignited. She heard every last horse hoof. Every clink of armor. Each man’s heartbeat and every breath they took.
Considering what she could hear, she wondered if Grant’s count was off.
“I would say their number is closer to sixty-five,” she said into their minds. “Because there are more further out...”
No sooner did she relay her message than one of those men appeared in the forest directly in front of them. She didn’t think but acted on instinct and whipped her blade. Surprisingly enough, it landed neatly in the man’s throat.
“Bloody hell, lass,” Graham and Bryce said simultaneously, clearly impressed before another man appeared behind him and things started to spiral out of control. Bryce took him out with an arrow but not before he sounded the alarm that they were under attack.
“Give her your spare sword, Graham,” Grant urged.
“I have no idea how to use one,” she began before Grant’s eyes met hers, and he interrupted her. “I think, mayhap, you will find that you do, lass. And if you dinnae, simply toss it aside, aye?”
“’Tis a heavy blade not suited to her size,” Graham argued, but Grant cut him off too.
“Give her the blade, lad,” he said again. “And let her ancestry decide whether or not she can handle it.”
Graham’s eyes met hers, his concern obvious as he handed over one of his swords. “Be careful, lass.”
She nodded, testing its weight. It certainly wasn’t light.
No more words were needed after that. They had been down this road before. Moments later several more men appeared, and all hell broke loose.
“Dinnae worry about me, lass,�
�� Grant roared as he crossed blades with an oncoming soldier. “Take care of yourself!”
Like hell. She would do exactly what was asked of her. Stick close to Grant and protect him if need be. So she tested the weight of her blade again and got a better grip. While heavy, she knew she could handle it. That she would handle it. So though she was frightened initially, she jumped in and started fighting.
When she did, all fear fled.
Exhilarated, she began battling. Where she could hold her own with her fists and feet and grunge fight without a problem, this was much different. The sword suddenly felt like an extension of her arms. As if it was part of her. When that happened, a bizarre but enlightening feeling rolled through her. She felt as though she had fought with a blade like this countless times before.
As such, she began fighting with it as if she had wielded it all her life.
She parried with the first warrior that came at her, her adrenaline rushing as she met his every thrust. It was odd, surreal almost, and damn addictive. Half a breath later, she sliced his throat open. Satisfied, caught in the rush, she battled the next then the next. On occasion, she would side kick someone then twirl away, and fight another only to twirl back and end the first guy.
Blood poured as readily as rain, but she kept going.
Every once in a while, she would catch Graham out of the corner of her eye and chuckle. Mainly because he was chuckling as he fought. She realized it was his calling card in battle. A way to disarm his opponent. But she also realized he found true enjoyment in downing his enemy. That every swing of his blade had purpose.
Christina could relate to a degree. She had felt the same way every time she ran and raised money for charity. Every step would help feed someone or help battle some disease. Every step put money where it was needed most.
As she continued fighting, it almost felt like a choreographed dance. One that she had always understood. It had rhythm and balance and timing yet it freed her in a whole new way. It was creative yet methodical. Wildly addictive. She never stopped or slowed but kept thrusting and slicing and fighting with everything she had.
It wasn’t until she turned with a roar on her lips and had no one left to fight that she realized the battle was over. Every last man had fallen. Sword at the ready, breathing heavily, she eyed her surroundings, shocked by what she saw.
Death.
Carnage.
What she had left behind.
That’s when everything slowed before it came crashing down around her and her high fled.
“Oh dear God,” she whispered, as she dropped the blade and began trembling. “Oh, God, what have I done?”
“’Tis all right, lass,” Graham said softly, suddenly there and gripping her shoulders. “Focus on me, not them, Christina.”
So she did, grateful for the immediate comfort she found in his eyes.
“Ye did verra well,” he said gently, his brogue thicker than ever. “Ye never stopped protecting Grant. Now ‘tis time to protect yerself and come with me, aye?”
She nodded, trusting him without question as he pulled her after him. Somewhere far outside her mind in what had to be shock, she heard thunder rumble across the sky and saw flashes of lightning. After that, all she could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other and following Graham.
At some point, he sat her down in yet another cave and urged her to close her eyes as he covered her with a blanket. As her eyelids drifted, she saw other things. Lindsay. More lightning flashes. Conall and Kenna. More flashes. Then Sven crouched in front of her, a fierce but respectful look in his eyes.
She thought for a moment she might have even seen Granny. Guiding, comforting her, welcoming her as she finally, truly embraced her lightn’.
Telling her to forgive herself for what that meant.
Then utter darkness fell.
When she opened her eyes again, wind gusted, and thunder still rumbled but a crackling fire burned. As far as she could tell, everyone was here, alive and well. Yet it was Graham her eyes went to first. Her head had been resting on his lap.
“I fell asleep, didn’t I?” she murmured.
“Aye,” he murmured back and brushed the pad of his thumb gently down her cheek. “How do you feel, lass? Hungry? Thirsty?”
“Very,” she said hoarsely, her throat parched as she sat up. Clearly anticipating her answer, he handed over meat and a skin of water. She nodded thanks and downed nearly all the water. After she managed a small smile and nod hello to the others, she dug into her meat.
Lindsay sat on her other side and waited until she was finished eating before squeezing her shoulder in comfort, her words gentle. “How are you doing, darling?”
How was she doing? Truly?
“I think I killed a lot of people, Linds,” she finally managed to whisper, shaken. “I’m pretty sure I’ve just become a serial killer.”
“You’ve become no such thing.” Lindsay shook her head. “You’ve become a warrior who defends and protects her people.” Pride lit her eyes. “One who did so with an amazing amount of talent.”
“Talent?” she whispered, not sure about that in the least. Now that everything was said and done, she pretty much felt like she had flailed about while fighting. It almost felt like a sloppy dreamlike dance.
“’Tis a rare day I get to see the likes of you fight,” Grant said softly as he crouched in front of her. “Thank you, lass. Both for fighting to protect me and for embracing the warrior within with such courage. ‘Twas most extraordinary.”
“Oh, c’mon,” she whispered because she had no idea how else to respond. “I wasn’t all that.”
Yet as she looked from Graham to Bryce, then from Conall to Sven, she saw the respect and pride in their eyes. That’s when she realized she must have done all right. But at what expense?
“How many did I kill?” she murmured, afraid to hear the answer.
“As many as you needed to, lass.” Grant squeezed her hand, his eyes level with hers. For a flicker of a moment, she swore Granny might have been in there somewhere giving her approval as well. “As many as you needed to in order to protect those you cared about.” He shook his head. “That is all the answer you will ever need, do you ken?”
It almost felt like a soothing balm poured over her raw nerves as their eyes held. Peace filled her where moments before there had been turmoil.
“Do you ken, lass?” Grant repeated.
“I think so,” she murmured as things slowly became clearer...as she felt surer of herself and her actions. “I did what my ancestors would have expected of me. I embraced my gift and became a warrior.”
“That’s right.” Grant smiled. “Every inch a warrior and an honorable one at that.”
Honorable? Though not so sure, the way he said it and the warmth in his eyes made it seem okay. Plausible. True.
“When you’re ready, Graham and Lindsay will go with you so you can bathe,” Grant said softly. “Meanwhile, enjoy some whisky and eat all you like. I had the lads hunt extra game.”
Never more grateful, she nodded. “Thank you, Grant.”
After that, she did exactly as suggested and drank some whisky while she kept snacking. Apparently, Lindsay and the others had joined them near the end of the battle and helped them polish off the enemy. By all accounts, it had been one heck of a battle, and none got away. Or so they hoped.
Though everyone said it was a good thing the others showed up when they did, she got the impression they weren’t entirely truthful. If anything, as the men cast her approving glances every once in a while, she got the feeling she fought extremely well and left little behind. In the end, she suspected help wasn’t all that needed.
“I dropped your sword.” Her eyes went to Graham. “Did you get it back?”
“Aye, lass, I got it.” He nodded and offered her a reassuring smile. “Though you fought well with it, you deserve your own blade. We will have our blacksmith forge you one to your specifications.”
Now here was
a conversation she never thought she would have.
The whisky must be going to her head because she replied more boldly than intended. “So you want me to stay then, handsome?”
“Verra much,” he replied, surprising her with his words before he doused the flames a little. “’Twould be good to have a chance to get to know each other even better, aye?”
Lindsay had been talking to Conall but sort of trailed off and rolled her eyes at Graham.
“It would be nice,” Christina acknowledged then shrugged, in no mood to take things too seriously right now. If he was not overly interested, she wouldn’t pressure him. “I guess we’ll just see what happens.” Her eyes landed on Kenna who seemed rather well across the way. In fact, she was smiling and laughing.
Christina turned teasingly sympathetic eyes Graham's way. “Besides, you were just dumped. That’s gotta leave a guy a little gun shy.”
Lindsay chuckled before focusing on Conall again.
Meanwhile, Graham offered Christina one of those charming grins he used when he knew she was messing around. Sort of. Because they both knew her lighthearted words had some mixed messages. Ones that didn’t seem to overly bother him. Rather, he seemed more comfortable with her than most men. Comfortable enough to say what he said next.
“How are you feeling, lass?” His brows rose slowly as he addressed the residual effects of her gift. “You have slept, eaten and drank your fill of water.” The corner of his mouth curled up. “Is there anything else you might need taken care of?”
She met his grin. “I like the way you think.” Because hell if she wasn’t aroused. Yet still. Was it right? She frowned. “But what about...” She tilted her head slightly in Kenna’s direction. “You know.”
Based on the way Kenna was looking at and flirting with Sven, she knew his response before he said it.
“I think Kenna might verra well be relieved to be free of we MacLomains,” he replied softly. “At least in a romantic sense.”
That fast? But it certainly seemed that way. All aside though, Christina was covered in blood and needed to bathe. A few minutes later, as they headed deeper into the cave, she wondered how this might go with her friend along.
Promised to a Highland Laird Page 17
