Dual Release

by Tara Nina

  “Ceum saor de clach. Be Ye Biast air duine. Tis Gaol dara slighe. Ge Ye be mèinne dh’oidche mur dh’là.”

  The ground rumbled. The crate shook. Cracks splintered the statues. Light spilled from the newly formed slits as dust filled the air. Pebbles and stones rolled to the ground. A cloud of dirt and dust rose, filling the area to a point visibility was nil.

  As if mesmerized by what was happening, the fighting momentarily stopped. Cait slid off the guy she’d been bronco riding. Coughing and gagging from everyone filled the room. But when the dust cleared, Cait’s jaw dropped. One word flashed inside her head. Damn.

  A set of the most gorgeous twins she’d ever seen sat inside the crate. The statues were gone. Two living, breathing men were in their place. Granted they were covered in dust, but… Wow.

  “You bitch,” echoed around the warehouse as the forgotten injured man on top of the statue’s crate sprang at the woman, knocking her to the ground and landing on her. His fist poised to hit her but never made contact.

  A strong hand caught his wrist and held it tight, jerking him by his arm off the woman. The wild-eyed man glared at the hand, then all color drained from his face once he made the connection as to who had a hold on him.

  “Ye nay be hitting the lady. Bad enough ye knocked her down.” The tall Scotsman with fiery-red hair and the greenest eyes Cait had ever seen on a man turned his head to look at the other Scotsman and said, “What say ye, Dour, shall we teach this gent some manners?”

  “Aye, in due time, mi brathair,” Dour replied as he helped the woman, who’d been knocked to the ground, back to her feet. Confusion furrowed his brow as he obviously surveyed his surroundings. “Do ye happen to know where we are perchance?”

  “Donnell, Dour,” the redhead said. Her voice shook with excitement as the twins’ faces showed their disbelief that this woman knew their names. “You’ve been set free from a curse. You’ve been asleep for over two hundred years. There are constraints with this freedom.”

  Donnell released the man he was holding as he stared, bewildered, at her.

  “This isn’t happening,” the large ringleader spouted angrily. “It’s some sort of trick. They’ve got the statues. Get them.” He commanded his goons to attack.

  “There’s no time to explain. These men are out to destroy your family,” she explained hurriedly as she pointed at the men dressed in black. “Help us and we’ll see to it you’re returned home safely.”

  Chapter Four

  All hell broke loose. The ringleader rushed one of the tall Scotsmen. The Scotsman, whom Cait mentally labeled hunk number one, turned and laid a shoulder into him. He shoved the bad guy backward into a stack of crates. Dazed but not down, the ringleader came right back at hunk one.

  “Donnell, ye be needing a hand with that one?”

  “Nay, there be plenty to go around,” he replied as he got wrapped up in a one-armed bear hug meant to crush him from his opponent.

  The injured man, who had knocked the red-haired woman down, didn’t remain standing for long. Wheelchair guy grabbed a fist full of his shirt, jerked him forward and landed a hard left to the side of the man’s head. He crumpled to his knees.

  Hunk two, whom Cait overheard being called Dour, sprang into the brawl as if it were his job. A bad guy had Jenny pinned against a crate and was about to hit her, when his wrist was broken by Dour. Cait saw Jenny cringe at the sound. She’d done the same thing when the ringleader’s hand was damaged by the wheelchair. It was a sound she hoped not to hear coming from her or Jenny during this throw down.

  She and Jenny had seen their fair share of pub fights, none of which they’d participated in. But nothing topped this one. Wheelchair guy had the red-haired woman safely behind him while he held the crowbar at the ready. The man he knocked out lay in a heap on the floor.

  The chauffer was slugging it out with one of the hooded men, exchanging punch for punch. Dour dispensed with the man, whose wrist he’d broken, and was bobbing and weaving in a match against the last of the three, the man Jenny had hit in the head with the board. Somehow he’d gotten back on his feet and seemed madder than ever. Jenny was cheering Dour on and punching the air. Cait would have laughed if she wasn’t so busy trying not to be in the way of that crazed ringleader dude. Broken hand and all, he didn’t back down. Donnell placed himself between her and the monster of a guy. It seemed pain added to his craziness.

  A hard blow bloodied Donnell’s nose. A cocky grin split his face and Cait got the sense he loved the fight. “Is that all ye got?” came out of his mouth and she knew she was right. The ringleader lunged at Donnell, causing him to take several strides backward. Cait couldn’t move fast enough and became stuck between Donnell’s backside and a crate. Her nose meshed into the space between his shoulders, and for a second she thought it snapped from the intense pain that shot between her eyes and made them water. Absently she grabbed his waist for support.

  “Hang on, lassie,” he said. Those sharp green eyes gazed at her from across his shoulder. Mischief made them sparkle. “We’ve got to move.”

  She did as instructed and held on, following his lead. He turned. She turned. He stepped. She stepped. Not sure why, she never let go and moved in sync with his actions. He bobbed. She bobbed as if they were connected as the men swung blow for blow. Some made skin-to-skin connections. Other punches did not, but that didn’t stop them. What neither realized was where they’d relocated wasn’t the best of spots. Cait backed up, lost her footing and toppled backward into the van. It wasn’t a far fall, just enough of a dip between the loading dock of the warehouse and the van for her to lose her balance and land on her bottom.

  Donnell tried to catch her. The momentary lapse of eye contact with the ringleader was all the man needed. He blindsided Donnell with a sucker punch to the side of the head, then a hard shove from behind sent Donnell onto his hands and knees into the back of the van.

  “If I can’t have the statues,” the ringleader sputtered, angrily and out of breath, “then I’ll bring him you.”

  Before either moved, the door slammed shut and locked. Seconds later the van lunged forward. Cait crawled to the door and tried to lift the gate. It wouldn’t give. She sat back on her heels. How in the hell had she gotten herself into this?

  Jenny shoved from behind Dour as he landed the final blow to his opponent. She ran toward the departing van, unable to believe what had just happened. Without a word, she jumped to the ground and ran as fast as her long legs would carry her. It’d been years since she ran track in college, but she’d maintained a daily regimen of jogging. This she was thankful for as she rounded the corner on the tail of the van. A few seconds after it passed, she was at the Beetle’s driver’s side door and sliding into the seat. There was no way she was losing sight of that van. It carried her best friend as a hostage.

  Dour slid to a halt in the open door of the car. That was the first she noticed he’d been right behind her. Gasping for air, she looked up at him. “I don’t have time to waste. Either you get in or you stay behind. I’m going after my friend.”

  “Mi brathair also has been swallowed by that monster. I am going. I no understand this beast ye be in. Where are the horses?” He looked around frantically.

  “There are no horses,” she shouted, leaned over and opened the passenger door. “Now get in.”

  He ran to the other side, hesitated for an instant, then slid onto the seat. She had the engine on and shifted into gear the moment his butt made contact with the cushion. With a stomp on the gas, the car lunged forward, causing his door to slam shut.

  Jenny hated driving Cait’s baby this way, but she had no choice. She gave her passenger a quick glance and knew something was wrong. He held on tight to the dashboard and his eyes were wide with fear.

  She huffed. “I know I’m going a bit fast here, but my driving isn’t that bad.” If she didn’t know better, she thought she smelled fear wafting off him.

  His voice cracked as he spoke. “Milady, this
be a first for me.”

  “You’ve never ridden in a car before?” She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. In this day and age, that was practically unheard of, everyone rode in or drove a car.

  “There are no such things where I come from.”

  Then it hit her. In her panic to chase after her friend, she’d forgotten the magical miracle she’d witnessed at the warehouse. He was one of a set of twins who—if the older woman was to be believed—had been released from a two-hundred-year-old curse. She slanted her eyes his way for a second, taking in his dust-covered appearance. Pebbles littered his red hair, which was straight, loose and came to just below his shoulders. Jenny darted her eyes forward, determined not to lose sight of the van.

  She’d felt the floor shake and heard the stone crack. For a few moments she’d been blinded by bright light spilling from the statues. She cleared her throat and still tasted the dust that had filled the air. Was it a miracle? Was he one of two who were cursed?

  Did she believe in curses?

  Jenny loosened the death grip she had on the steering wheel. She believed in everything paranormal. It was why she and Cait got along so well. They loved the supernatural, the hunt for the truth behind the tale. Their online magazine was proof of their conviction to the unusual and different. And look where that landed them. In a life-or-death situation, that’s where. God knew if Cait was okay or not. She’d taken a pretty decent fall into the back of that van. Jenny chewed her lower lip.

  Behind her in the distance she heard the faint sound of sirens. The authorities must have arrived at the warehouse. A tad too late in her opinion. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed for help. It seemed like forever before the emergency dispatcher answered. The moment the connection was made, Jenny spoke quickly, giving every detail she could.

  “I witnessed a kidnapping at a warehouse in the East India Dock region. Several criminals attempted to steal from the warehouse but were stopped by a fight that broke out. They kidnapped two people. A woman, brunette, average height and weight and a man.” She paused and glanced at the identical version beside her. “Long red hair, tall and muscular in build.” She wasn’t about to tell them he was probably over two hundred years old. They’d think she was nuts. “My friend and I are tailing the perpetrators, who are in a black van. It took a left onto the highway and we’re staying on—” She pulled the phone from her ear and grumbled, “Damn. No signal. Dropped the call.”

  “Just fucking wonderful,” Jenny groused. That meant the one on Cait was probably useless as well. Frustrated, she tossed the cell phone into the backseat without taking her eyes off the van. She couldn’t believe how busy the late-night traffic was in this area, but was grateful for the camouflage to help her pursue without being easily seen. If they saw her, they’d probably do everything in their power to lose her.

  She should’ve listened to Cait and gone with a more reliable cell carrier rather than the cheapest. Being the frugal bookkeeper wasn’t exactly helping them out in this moment of dire need, now was it? She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity.

  Jenny stared straight, keeping the van in sight. The lives of two people were in her hands and she had no way to call for help. Her only assistance in this venture was a man who was deathly afraid of the car. Hopefully the police had been given as much information as possible at the warehouse and were now on the trail following them. But she highly doubted it.

  Deciding to try to make the situation go a little easier, Jenny started a conversation. “My name is Jenny Baker. What’s your name?”

  “Mi name be Dour MacKinnon.” The deep timbre of his voice resonated in the compact car. She’d find it soothing if he wasn’t so distraught and his words strained. In a different scenario, she would have found it funny a big, strong macho guy acted like such a baby.

  “Okay, Dour.” She tried to sound friendly but the situation didn’t exactly bode well as a first date, get-to-know-you sort of thing. This was all about Cait, his brother and a van in the distance with a gun-toting madman in it. But something in her gut told her she’d need his help if she wanted to succeed when they reached wherever it was they were going. “I’m not sure I believe this curse thing. But I know what I saw. So answer me this, how’d you survive if you were locked in stone for hundreds of years? How come you didn’t age?”

  The tall man seemed to relax just a smidgeon as he leaned into the seat, but didn’t let go of the dashboard. His fingers tightened when she took a curve a bit too fast. She almost laughed but swallowed it instead as she waited for him to answer.

  “Milady, I know not how this happened nor how mi brathair and I survived. What the woman spoke…” He paused then continued. She felt his gaze on her and she met his eyes for a moment. “Do ye know if it be truth or a lie?”

  She truly didn’t know. If it wasn’t for her headstrong friend, she’d be on the couch watching a made-for-TV movie and eating popcorn right about now. Instead, she was giving a wild pursuit through the outskirts of London to god knew where with a confused, albeit extremely handsome, man as her copilot.

  “Let’s go with it being the truth.” Jenny forged ahead, turning her eyes back to the van’s taillights in the distance. She was doing her best to keep a satisfactory space between them and the van without losing it. Granted this was Cait’s forte, not hers. Jenny rarely drove during their escapades. “Any idea how you were cursed or who did it?”

  His head shook as he answered, “Nay. Last I remember was getting knee deep in mi cups with mi brathair, then going to bed. Next thing, mi eyes see be ye standing between two men.”

  “I was the first thing you saw?” She couldn’t believe it. Was he hitting on her at a time like this?

  “Aye.” His mouth opened as if to say something else, then closed without the words escaping.

  “Where did you live?” she managed to ask, not sure if she wanted to keep talking to him or not. Part of her was flattered by what he said. Part of her was a bit put off by it.

  “Castle MacKinnon outside of Lochsbury.” He stared into the night. “Tell me, are we still in Scotland?”

  “No. We’re near London. Not exactly sure where we’re headed at the moment.”

  “Which direction be London?”

  She pointed. “That way.”

  He leaned forward, staring at the stars for several long seconds. Then in a matter-of-fact way stated, “We are headed toward Scotland.”

  *

  May hugged herself as she paced. The police arrived within minutes of the van’s departure. They had mere moments to discuss with Jameson’s bodyguard and chauffer, Charles, what had happened. Since he’d seen the transformation, they secured his silence about the event. As far as the police were to be told, a valuable statue had been destroyed during a scuffle with a band of thieves. From the amount of dust, dirt and rock debris in and around the crate, it was plausible.

  As soon as Jameson and Charles explained the basics of what happened, an APB was put out on the van. Charles followed his boss’ lead as he gave details to the officer in charge. It was evident he felt the incident was his fault because he’d left them alone at the warehouse to get gas. From his actions and tone of voice, May knew his loyalty to Jameson was sincere. Apparently, he’d been with Jameson since a couple of months after the accident that left him wheelchair-bound.

  For a few moments, she stopped and watched from the window in the warehouse office. Two of the three hooded thugs were arrested. The other one must have escaped or made it into the van without being seen, because he was nowhere to be found in or around the scene. The man she initially thought she recognized, the one who entered the warehouse first and threatened them, was being loaded onto a gurney. Apparently, he was still unconscious, so an ambulance had been called to escort him to a hospital.

  She wrung her hands as she turned and made another pass around the office. How the hell had she been so stupid? She’d set the twins free only to land them in immediate jeopardy. One was hostage in
the back of a van. The other was chasing them through the countryside in a beat-up Volkswagen Beetle, according to Charles, who had made it around the corner in time to see him get in and the car speed away.

  How was she going to explain this to the other MacKinnon brothers already freed from the curse? Oh god, she had to tell them. Maybe they could help. May walked outside to Jameson’s van and retrieved her cell phone from her purse. This was going to be a hard call to make. She leaned against the van for support. Her legs were so tired, as was the rest of her, but she had to do this, she had to make this call.

  Ericka answered on the second ring. May took a breath. “Ericka, I’m sorry to be calling so late.”

  “It’s okay, Aunt May. I’m hoping it’s good news at this hour.” Ericka sounded groggy from being awakened.

  “I found the twins, but—”

  “Really!” Ericka squealed. “So they were the pair of statues you saw in the paper?”

  May could see the image of Ericka in her head clearly. She’d be dressed in one of her husband’s shirts, her auburn hair a tangled bed-head mess and a hunk of a man wrapped around her snuggled beneath the covers. By now, Gavin would be sitting upright at her side in bed. His arm was probably around his pregnant wife and he was more than likely leaning with his ear close to the phone to hear the conversation.

  “Yes, I was right. But…” May huffed heavily into the phone. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

  After a second of silence, Gavin’s voice came through the phone. “May, what be the trouble? Need me and mi brathairs in London?”

  “Aye, Gavin,” May admitted sadly. “A situation has arisen and I truly believe Leod is behind it. I’ve spoken the anti-curse. Your brothers are free to suffer the partial release. But I didn’t get the chance to explain it to them.”

  She started to cry. Gavin’s usually soothing deep brogue did nothing to ease her distress though she knew he tried. “May, suffer no pain because of your effort to help. It be because of your love that any of us are free.”