Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1)

by Sky Purington

  McKayla felt his eyes swing her way like one might feel the oppressive heat of a summer storm. His words were like low rumbling thunder. “I refuse to create a site that could be hacked allowing my products to be stolen. As soon as I find the kind of security the monster companies have, I’ll offer the public things they never could’ve imagined.”

  Suddenly moody, she opposed him with one statement. “You’ve got enough money to sink a boat. If you really wanted the security you’d already have it. Again, something you could do from here.”

  “Come home,” she complained and kept walking. “You’re a New Englander. You don’t belong out there.”

  Trevor didn’t say anything. She didn’t think he would. Even though he’d been born in this neck of the woods, he was a runner. His very roots scared the heck out of him. Even after knowing him for so long, she had no clue why.

  The house was in full swing when they returned and her cousins were joyous as ever. There were no hard feelings between her and Trevor. There never were. They drank and partied. Only scattered looks from Seth and the girls made it clear that she and Trevor weren’t exactly where they were supposed to be.

  It seemed if they were off a little, everyone noticed. It was kind of annoying.

  McKayla didn’t meet a new guy which was no surprise. Not with a towering, brooding Trevor overlooking. The Bostonian crowd was easy, smooth, and handsome. And even though he might be the best looking man in the room, her best friend was the total opposite. Trevor roamed the room like an alpha wolf protecting its pack. Quite simply, he acted as if he were better than the rest.

  His eyes remained hooded behind dark lashes and his lips wry. Even when he spoke it was with an air not entirely his own. Though raised in Massachusetts by a lower income family he acted more like a man born of privilege. It was strange…and irritating. But most of all, it was uncharacteristic.

  “When exactly did you meet him?” Ferchar asked, as he and McKayla plunked down next to one another in front of the fireless hearth.

  “Trevor? Years ago.”

  “I dinnae understand why you’re not together. He seems verra…protective of you.”

  McKayla took a sip of wine and muttered, “Because I don’t like cowboys.”

  Ferchar didn’t seem overly fazed by her response. “Nay. But you like him.”

  “Aye, I did.” She slowly twirled her glass, staring aimlessly. “A long time ago.”

  “What made you stop?”

  “Technology.”

  The Scotsman chuckled. “So he moved across the country and you could only communicate through technology.”

  McKayla shook her head. Though only on her second glass, the wine was affecting her. “No, it wasn’t the distance, it was technology itself. He’s addicted to it.” She narrowed her eyes at Trevor. “Do you know what he has in his pocket?”

  “No, but I’m sure you do,” Ferchar said easily, a grin on his face.

  McKayla rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No, not that. But yes, that. But no.” Ugh, did she sound tipsy? No matter, she had a point to make. “In his pocket is a way to control my dreams. A way to get to the very heart of my book.”

  Intrigued, Ferchar said, “Oh really, the heart of your book?”

  “Did you know I’m a Broun?” she asked, distracted.

  “A Broun? Aye, of course. But what does that have to do with Trevor?”

  “I’m not sure,” she mumbled, losing focus. “But we all are, Caitlin, me, Sheila and Leslie. That means something.”

  Ferchar’s arm came around her shoulder in comfort. “Of course it does, lass. Always has.”

  “Has it?” she said, looking at him. “Really?”

  For a second she felt a little dazed, as if he’d seen something within her mind even she could not see.

  “Always has and always will, dinnae ever forget that.”

  “Are you okay?”

  McKayla blinked, surprised to find Caitlin on her other side, and speaking to her.

  “I don’t know? Am I?” she asked.

  “Come on.” Caitlin pulled her up off of the couch. “I think you’ve had enough. It’s been a really long day.”

  The next thing she knew Caitlin was tucking her into bed. McKayla yawned. “Thanks cuz.”

  “No problem, hon.”

  “Caitlin,” she said. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Of course, anything.”

  “There’s something in my pocket. It’s meant to cover my eyes while I sleep. Trevor gave it to me. Can you get it for me?”

  “Here it is.”

  Eyes already closed, she felt something cool and silken slip over her head.

  “Anything else?” Caitlin asked.

  “No. Thank you.”

  Her cousin shut the door behind her. Yawning again, McKayla found contentment in Trevor’s gift if for no other reason than it felt wonderful on her face. She curled onto her side and pulled a comforter over her shoulders.

  “Tsk, tsk, not quite yet, lassie.”

  Exhausted, she mumbled, “Trevor, let me go to sleep.”

  “Not quite yet. Wake up.”

  “Please,” she mumbled.

  He started to shake her shoulders. “Nay, wake up. Now! Right now!”

  Startled, confused, she listened and bolted upright.

  Not to Trevor but to Colin of the MacLeod Clan.

  The hero from her novel.

  Chapter Three

  The lass had no sooner sat up before she passed out.

  Again Colin wondered how his brotherhood had found out about her. For now, it would remain a mystery. With one last disgusted glance at his fallen mentor he scooped her up into his arms and scanned the forest. He had to remain focused, alert. Or he’d end up dead. Because of one deadly action, he was the most hunted man in Scotland. His bloodline didn’t matter in the least. Regardless of who he was or how much power he possessed, he would be searched out and killed.

  Or his clan would go to war to protect him.

  Yet another God forsaken war.

  After waiting ten more seconds he knew the time had come. He covered the lass with his enemy’s tartan and leapt into the forest. Jaw clenched, body ready, he ran fast and hard.

  There was no other choice.

  Sawooooooosh.

  They shot at him. He dropped to his knees and covered her head, waited three counts, then bounded up and ran.

  Zawiiiiiiing.

  A dagger-edged boomerang.

  He jumped right, then left three times, before falling to the ground, covering her with his body again.

  Zawiiing.

  It flew back over.

  He bounced up, ran at full speed then plunged to the ground.

  Zawiiing.

  There it went again. Damn, would they ever stop? He didn’t know how long he could evade them. If he were a gambling man, he’d bet he was in trouble. But he wouldn’t give up, it wasn’t in his blood. He would fight until the end, which would be real soon if he didn’t do something, and do it fast.

  With his eyes closed, he breathed in through his nose, waited two more seconds until a peaceful calm overcame him. Then he ran again, harder and faster than before. One, two, three, four, he counted, and then crouched. An arrow whizzed overhead. He started to run. Two more arrows whizzed over. He jumped over a ledge. His arse hit the slope hard and they started to fall. Oh hell, he wasn’t about to die now. He grasped her tighter. Refused to let go. They’d already come too far.

  “Hold on,” he whispered.

  But obviously she couldn’t so he locked his legs around hers and wrapped his arms around her chest to protect her. “Stay with me,” he murmured.

  Though it was a fairly long slide, it wasn’t too bad. Soon enough he ducked into a small rock enclosure. Colin held the lass close for a long time, looking up and around, barely breathing. He knew this was supposed to be a safe spot. But truly, what was safe in this country nowadays?

  He reluctantly leaned her unconscious form up ag
ainst the rock and then sat against the opposite wall. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be near her. Did he ever. But what he wanted and what they needed were two different things. He couldn’t concentrate when she was so near, and right now he had to focus on keeping them alive. From where he sat, he had a better vantage point of incoming trouble. At least that’s what he told himself.

  Now all he could do was wait. And pray.

  Time went by and still nobody came. It seemed, at least for now, that they were safe. She was safe. That was all that mattered. It was hard to believe that she was really here because in truth she shouldn’t be. She should be safely tucked away in the twenty-first century and as far away from Scotland as possible.

  Yet look at her.

  Here not there.

  And as always, so bloody beautiful.

  Since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, Colin had been obsessed. Aye, he knew about the draw between the MacLomains and Brouns but assumed he’d be immune. His was a life of danger and no lass deserved such. But since he’d first seen her, without knowing it, she had drawn him ever closer. Colin held his head in his hands. How had he even arrived at the point of killing her?

  Dark magic no doubt.

  In the end none of it mattered. He’d been tricked.

  Now he was in the process of maneuvering through and manipulating time to stay one step ahead. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her. Nothing.

  “Oh heck,” she whispered.

  He lifted his head. She was awake. Groggy, but awake. Palm against her forehead, she slowly opened her eyes. Their gazes met, held. Pale gray, like moonlight on ice, her eyes searched his. What did they see? Did she recognize him? No, of course not.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “I get it.”

  There was no way she understood what just happened. What he had put her through. He never wanted her to know, because then she would hate him. And rightfully so.

  “You’re Colin. You must be.”

  Aye, but not the Colin she thought he was.

  “Aye, lass. I am Colin.”

  “And you are part of my lucid dream.”

  Best for now that she think that. “Aye.”

  “You’re not what I expected.”

  “Speak softer, lass.” He really needed her to be quiet. But what did she mean, not what she expected?

  She nodded, as if she understood something, then whispered, “Are you not Colin MacLeod?”

  A sour taste filled his mouth. He’d allow only so much. He whispered back, “Nay, I am Colin MacLomain.”

  Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Ah, so in this state I’ve given you the same last name as Ferchar and Caitlin. Interesting. But I suppose that makes sense in that I’m more familiar with it.”

  Right. She would think that. He wondered if he should be honest. Either way, things would get far more confusing before they became clearer. After all, she was caught in a time gap that was closing quickly, one that stretched between twenty-first century New Hampshire and medieval Scotland.

  Her wide eyes continued to study him, a warm blush spreading over her cheeks. “I can’t wait to tell him how well this works. Amazing,” she said. “Though you don’t quite look how I envisioned.”

  “How what works?” he asked innocently though he knew damn well what she was talking about. “And how precisely did you envision me, lass? We’ve only just met.”

  Colin knew he should be forthright but these precious few moments of ignorance seemed preferable…especially in light of what lay ahead.

  She shook her head, clearly debating how much she should share. “It’s just,” she began then stopped. “Well, you see you’re not.” She stopped talking again and frowned. “Okay, here’s the thing. You’re not…real.”

  He glanced down at himself then back at her. “Are you sure? I feel real enough.”

  An indiscernible sound escaped as her nervous gaze flickered from him to their surroundings then back. “This is going to sound really strange but you’re actually a character from a book I wrote and the only reason you’re here is because a friend helped invent something truly remarkable.”

  “Is that right?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head against the wall. “So I am but a figment of your imagination?”

  Her lips thinned as they always did when she worried about hurting someone’s feelings. “Yes, so it seems. I’m really sorry.”

  “Dinnae be. In light of our current circumstances your imagination would be a preferable place.”

  “You sound so much like Ferchar,” she said, her eyes shooting to his lips.

  Colin felt that look as though she’d touched him. A bolt of lust shot through him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Having her here in this place was dangerous. He couldn’t control the feelings thundering through him. He wanted to touch her for the first time on this land, in this time. But he would not, could not, lest risk frightening her.

  “Tell me more about where you think you are,” he urged.

  “Well, if you’re here I’m guessing the setting would have to be thirteenth century Scotland.” She glanced around the cave. “But I never wrote about this place.” Her eyes returned to him. “Or you such as you are. It seems my lucid dream has you looking more like the guy on the book cover, at least as much of him as I can see. Your chin is the same but it’s hard to say if the rest is.”

  “The rest?”

  “Your…body,” she stuttered then snapped her mouth shut.

  “My body? What do you mean?” He really shouldn’t be putting her though this when truths could be shared. But would she believe him? Doubtful. At least not yet.

  Clearly wanting to change the direction of their conversation she said, “My name is McKayla. It seems only fair you should know that even if you’re not real.”

  “‘Tis a bonnie name,” he replied in kind. One he knew all too well.

  “Thank you.”

  “So I’ve a question for you, lass,” he asked.

  “Sure, ask me anything,” she replied, obviously still trying to acclimate to her surroundings and to him.

  “If I’m but your dream, shouldn’t you be able to control my actions? Perhaps even my words?”

  She drummed her fingers on the rock by her side. “You’d think so. But perhaps I’m already doing that without even knowing it.”

  Unable to resist, he stood and walked over to her. McKayla’s eyes grew enormous as he approached. Reaching out his hand, he encouraged her to stand. Unsure, she looked from his hand to his face.

  “Aren’t you curious to see if you can touch me?” he asked softly.

  With little hesitation she reached out and took his hand. He pulled her up. The energy fluctuating between them was almost palpable. Their connection here in Scotland was much, much stronger. It took a great deal of strength not to pull her against him, to feel the sweet softness of her curves.

  “So tall, so real,” she whispered, her eyes roaming his face. “He’s going to be a millionaire for creating such a device.”

  Interesting. He was jealous of someone who was no threat at all. Or was he? Though he knew the answer he asked, “Who?”

  “It doesn’t matter. A friend,” she said absently.

  Though it shouldn’t, frustration rose sharply to the surface. “A mere friend created something that allowed you to live within a story you wrote?”

  Confusion pinched together her brows but her eyes remained locked on his. “Why do you sound upset?” She grimaced. “Though that’s possibly something I would’ve had you say.”

  His jealousy waned quickly. Was it? A small thrill shot through him. “McKayla, what would you say if I told you that your friend did more than create a device that allowed you to dream of me. A device that also allowed you to do more than dream of medieval Scotland, the setting for your book.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Colin squeezed her hand gently. “What if he created a device that actually allowed you to travel back
in time?”

  A shaky burst of laughter erupted and she twisted her lips. “I’d say scratch him being a millionaire and make that a multi-billionaire.”

  “Then he must be because you are here. This is Scotland. We are in danger and won’t be able to find shelter in this cave for long. ‘Tis my hope that you can return to whence you came.” He studied her face. “At least for now.”

  McKayla looked at him as though he were insane but softened her expression almost immediately. “Yes, of course I will. But please know this isn’t…” She bit her lower lip and scowled before her brows lifted. “It will all be fine. I’ll go and you’ll stay here in Scotland.”

  He knew she didn’t believe him in the least. Who would?

  “So it seems you are mine until you awake.”

  He didn’t miss the slight quiver in her hand nor her heavy swallow. “So it seems.”

  Colin felt the air shift. Their surroundings brightened then dulled. He knew she didn’t sense it. Before she could be taken from him he cupped her cheek with one hand. “I cannae tell you how glad I am you came, McKayla. Verra soon I will tell you things you never could have imagined. Will you believe me when I do?”

  Stunned, she whispered, “You’re not only my hero but my muse. I’ll listen.”

  “Aye,” he whispered in return. “Then I will see you soon, lass.”

  She started to fade. Watching her go was more difficult than he’d anticipated. Yet his chest tightened only a moment…for he’d see her again soon.

  Inhaling deeply he closed his eyes and focused. Magic stirred. The mark beneath his heart began to burn. Following the path of light within his mind, Colin felt reality shift and warp. Sparks of white hot lightning shot up his spine and his skin turned so cold it felt as though ice water had been poured over him. For a split second he endured such severe pain that he might as well be immersed in acid.

  As quickly as the sensations came they vanished. He was whole once more, but different.

  Not pausing a moment, he walked into McKayla’s bedroom.

  ****

  McKayla shot up in bed.

  Though sweat coated her body, shivers raked her from head to toe. Clenching the bed sheets she stared blindly around the room.