Heidrek had a split second to nod before Niall drove him back against a wall and held the dagger to his throat. Still shaking with fury, Nicole headed in his direction but Machara grabbed her arm and shook her head.
“Do ye truly think I would hurt Nicole?” Niall said, his tone dark as he came nose to nose with Heidrek. “Ye’ve seen me several times throughout yer young years. Have I ever once laid a hand on a lass?”
“No.” Though he trembled, Heidrek’s eyes remained with Niall’s. “But then I have never seen you care so much for a woman either. And I have seen too much passion lead to bad things. I have seen men beat their women over it. As I have seen women try to do the same to their men.”
“See, there ya go,” Nicole said. “He was just trying to protect me.”
“I know what he was trying to do,” Niall growled, blade still to Heidrek’s neck. “’Twas how he went about doing it that was wrong.”
“Aye,” Malcolm agreed as he leaned against the entrance with his arms crossed over his chest. “’Twas ill that and according to your Viking customs, my place to take ye down if my son shows ye mercy, Heidrek.”
Nicole was surprised by the smattering of thoughts that raced through her mind. Ones she realized were not hers but Niall’s. How shocked he was that his father had said that. How he had no clue what to make of it. Then her words to him earlier about how his father might have felt he was being rejected when Niall didn’t become laird.
She was startled by how profoundly her advice had affected him.
“I am sorry,” Heidrek said, not struggling against Niall. “I was wrong. Have I your forgiveness?” He swallowed. “If not, I hope you make it quick so that I might be taken by Loki because Odin would not have me.”
“No, he would not,” Kjar agreed. “There would be no feasting in Valhalla for you.”
Now that her haze of anger was fading, Nicole understood what they were doing. Showing the kid tough love. Probably a good thing. Even in her neck of the woods, you didn’t stab a man in the back.
“Give me yer word now that ye’ll never do the likes of that to yer kin again, aye?” Niall said to Heidrek.
“You have my word,” Heidrek said. “Never again.”
Niall eyed him for another long moment before he nodded, embraced him and clapped him on the back. When he stepped away, Heidrek turned to Malcolm. “Have I your forgiveness as well, Malcolm, father to Niall.”
Malcolm eyed him long and hard as well before he nodded. “Ye do. Dinnae do such again.”
He said more, but that old familiar buzzing sound drowned out his words. Nicole closed her eyes and tried not to panic as she braced for pain. Instead, Vika’s words floated through her mind. “Where are ye, lass?”
She was about to respond when strong hands clamped her upper arms. Her eyes shot open. It was Kjar. He put a finger to his lips and shook his head. Then he mouthed, “Say nothing.”
“Lass, can ye hear me?” her horse said. “Where are ye? I’m afraid.”
Niall put a comforting hand against her lower back even though she saw the worry churning in his eyes. Despite the anger she had felt, knowing he was there kept fear at bay as her gaze returned to Kjar. She didn’t dare say anything let alone think it. Because though it sounded just like her, it was obviously not Vika speaking.
Though they did it slowly so that they didn't alarm her, she was well aware of the MacLomains, Kol and even Heidrek forming a protective circle around her.
“Respond to her,” Kjar mouthed. “Tell her you have fled South. That she is safe and you will send for her soon.”
Good thing he did not have a brogue or he might have been damn tricky to understand. Doing her best to keep her mind blank, she repeated his words. No sooner did she ‘say’ what was asked of her did the buzzing start to fade and as always, everything seemed loud. The spit of torches. The crashing waves.
Kjar spoke softly as if he sensed her transition. “The demi-god has left your mind.”
Nicole had no clue she was shaking until Niall pulled her into his arms. She rested her cheek against his chest and struggled to breathe evenly. “I should go back. If he has Rònan, I can free him.”
“Nay,” Niall murmured and stroked her hair. “Ye need always remember what Grant said. The evil beastie speaks naught but lies. Dinnae forget that.”
“You will not be safe here much longer,” Kjar said. “Though the Celtic demi-god might have been led astray, his connection to Nicole only grows.”
“How do we stop that?” Niall said.
“Can I stop it?” came a small voice from the entrance.
Robert.
Nicole pulled away from Niall and headed for him. The idea of the little boy getting involved in this cut deep. “You don’t. Not ever. I’ve got this.” Before he could utter a word, she crouched and hugged him. “You stay clear of the bad guys no matter what. Do you understand?”
“But if I can help,” he started.
She cupped his cheeks and met his eyes. “The best way for you to help is to listen to those protecting you. And I just happen to be one of them. I’m asking you as one of my best friends to always stay with the MacLomains even if I go away. Especially if I go away.”
When his eyes grew moist, Nicole hitched her jaw and nudged his chin up. “None of that, little guy. Now’s the time for you to be strong and listen to those who care about you. How else are you gonna become a great king someday if you don’t listen to those you trust most?” She tried to be a little less stern. “Do you trust me?”
Robert blinked away tears and nodded. “I do, Nicole. Verra much so.”
“Good,” she said firmly and smiled. “That’s what I like to hear.” She winked. “When I’m hearing straight that is.”
The Bruce gave a little grin as well.
Convinced that he would be okay, she nodded at the entrance. “Why don’t you go lie down with Tait again?”
“Och, nay,” Robert scoffed, putting his shoulders back. “’Tis time for that poor excuse of a warrior to rise up to battle once more.”
Before she knew it, the Bruce spun on his heel and strode in the opposite direction, set to go to war with a wooden sword. Only when she stood and turned back did she realize she had an audience. Everyone had been watching their exchange closely. When she saw the look of pride on Niall’s face, she scowled and mumbled to the crowd, “Stop snooping already.”
“I think ye need to get around to marrying Niall so I can call ye my cousin, lass.” Machara chuckled. “What good times we’ll have together in battle!”
“I don’t need to marry the big oaf to have fun fighting alongside you, sweetie.” Nicole winked. “I’m doing just fine fighting single.”
“Aye, ye are.” Machara grinned. “And ‘twill only be more distracting to the enemy if ye do so wearing my cousin’s tunic such as ye are.”
“Aw, hell,” Nicole muttered as she eyed her outfit and fingered her well-tousled hair. When Niall offered a smug grin, she narrowed her eyes. “I’m not done being mad at you, Brute.”
Logan and Darach chuckled but were smart enough to remain silent. Machara, however, had no such qualms. “Aye, ye two will always be battling because ye like the making up part too much.”
“Ha ha.” Nicole could dish it as well as she could take it so she perked a brow at Machara. “Speaking of battling and making up. You must’ve worn Conall out good seeing how he’s not here, eh?”
“Och, nay, he’s right…” Machara’s words died on her lips as she looked around. “Where the bloody hell did he go?”
Alarm flickered on everyone’s face as a loud roar echoed through the cave. Kol was gone in a flash with everybody racing after him. Nicole skidded to a halt, dumb-founded, when she reached the main cave.
Complete chaos reigned.
And Brae Stewart was at the heart of it.
“How the heck is she here?” Nicole cried as Niall handed her a dagger and took up a stance in front of her.
“I can protect
myself,” she started but snapped her mouth shut when he shot a look over his shoulder she had never seen before. One that said she seriously didn't want to mess with him right now.
Meanwhile, Brae had Conall by the throat and was doing something to him with magic that had him screaming in pain. The MacLomains and Vikings alike proceeded with caution. Kol, however, was all about protecting his wife and son because he roared and shifted into a dragon.
Everyone started throwing magic at Brae, but to no avail. She was well-protected by something powerful and remained untouchable as she flung aside Conall and strode for Robert. Kol tried to attack her, but his massive wings buffeted against something unseen.
“Oh, shit,” Nicole whispered. When Tait roared, “Robert the Bruce is mine!” then shifted into a little dragon to defend him, she knew they were out of time.
There was only one thing left to do.
She darted around Niall and raced toward Robert and Tait, ignoring the sting of her bare feet on sharp rocks. Brae was moments away from flinging her hands out at the little dragon when Nicole cried, “Take me. I’ll lead you to the other rings!”
Roars of defiant rage came from behind. Darach, Logan, Machara. But none was so loud as Niall’s. She came to a screeching halt in front of Tait and Robert, not concerned that there was a child dragon at her back that was nearly as tall as her. One that might not realize that he shouldn’t slaughter her to get to the enemy.
Brae’s clever eyes met Nicole’s. “Now, see, that’s a good lass. This was all my Laird truly wanted…at least for now.”
She might be terrified, but Nicole wasted no time walking straight up to Brae Stewart. “Let’s go, then.”
“Aye, lass.”
The last thing Nicole heard within the black whirlwind that suddenly whipped around her was Robert’s wail. “Naaaayyyyy!”
Pain ripped through her as darkness swamped everything and the ground fell out from beneath her. There was no way to know if she screamed or if it was the deafening sound of magic as she fell. Almost like she was falling into the pits of hell. Then she landed. Not hard but bone-jarringly enough that she yelped.
All went very, very silent after that.
Splayed across the ground, she remained quiet as she tried to acclimate. First, she wiggled her toes and fingers and moved all her body parts. Everything seemed intact if not a little banged up. Instead of sitting, she played dead and blinked, waiting patiently for her eyes to adjust to the dim light.
Slowly but surely, she was able to see her surroundings. She was in some sort of small glen surrounded on all sides by tall, jagged, lonely mountains. A dry riverbed cut through dead grass and a cold wind whistled. It almost sounded like the distant wails of tortured souls. Barren, twisted trees completed the spooky package.
Playing it safe, she remained still for a long time and made sure she was alone before she carefully sat up. When she did, she saw someone else lying beside a nearby tree. Squinting, she gasped. Was that Rònan? Please let it be him.
“Rònan?” she said, but it only came out as a weak whisper so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Rònan?”
No response. Nothing. But the clearer her vision became, the more convinced she was that it was him. His tattoos almost seemed to glow. So she crawled toward him and kept at it. “Rònan, you gotta wake up. C’mon!”
“Oh shit, no,” she murmured when she got close enough. He was covered in blood, chained to a tree and had clearly been beaten up. A ripped plaid covered half his body and one eye was so swollen it was nothing but a slit. Sitting against the trunk, she pulled his head onto her lap and felt for a pulse.
He was alive.
Nicole blinked away tears of relief and brushed his limp hair away from his face. What was left anyway. It looked like half of it had been singed off. Hell, what had he been put through?
Though angered by his poor treatment, she kept it out of her voice and whispered, “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re not alone.”
She adjusted the plaid around him the best she could then kept stroking his hair. Anything to lend comfort. Hours must have passed before he grabbed her hand and pulled her palm against his cheek.
“Rònan?” Her heart leapt with hope. “Can you hear me?”
“Aye,” he croaked, his good eye opening just a sliver. “Ye smelled my burn and came, lass. How did ye find me?”
What was he talking about? Then she realized that he had a fever. Unless his skin was naturally this hot. Hard to know with a dragon-shifter. “I was brought here by Brae Stewart, Rònan. Do you know where we are?”
“Ye’ve been like some sort of angel in all this darkness. So verra beautiful.” His eyes seemed to drift. “All that glorious white hair.”
Though confused, Nicole went with it. Anything to keep him calm. “Glad I was there for you, hon.” While desperate for answers, he was definitely out of it so she let it go. “Why don’t you try to rest some more?”
“Will ye stay with me, lass?”
“Of course.”
“Aye, then,” he whispered and his eye slid shut.
Nicole leaned her head back against the tree and sighed. Why was she here? What was going on? Were Robert and Tait safe? She felt so helpless. There was no way to know how long she stared at the creepy landscape before her eyes drifted shut. She obviously dozed off because she nearly jumped out of her skin when Rònan’s deep voice jolted her awake.
“Nicole?”
“Yeah.” She blinked. “I’m here.”
Rònan grunted, sat up and held his head. “Bloody hell, where are we?”
“Damned if I know,” she said, trying her best to remain calm.
He frowned at the metal link around his ankle then shook the chain, tracing its origin to the tree it was wrapped around. “Och,” he muttered, yanking at the thing.
“Stop.” She grabbed his arm. “Just relax, get your bearings then we’ll go from there.”
Rònan kept frowning and murmured chants to free himself, but it did no good. She didn’t think it would.
“Brae Stewart brought me here so I’m pretty sure that chain’s locked up tight with ungodly magic,” Nicole informed. “So chill the heck out, okay? It’s been a long day.”
“Bloody hell,” Rònan repeated and eyed the tree before truly taking in their surroundings and mixing it up Nicole-style. “Bloody fucking hell.”
She might be at the pit of the world, but a chuckle worked its way to the surface. “Gotta stop swearing, my friend. You’re set to protect a little boy that doesn’t need to hear it.”
Rònan plunked down beside her and leaned back against the tree. “I dinnae see how it much matters now.”
Nicole averted her eyes when everything fell out. “Fix your damn plaid, Rònan.”
“Och,” he grunted. “’Tis nothing ye havenae seen before.”
“Oh, right.” She peeked at him. “Did I really look beneath your kilt then?”
He nodded. “’Tis hard to imagine ye dinnae remember what ye saw. ‘Tis quite impressive.” A small grin came to his lips despite their circumstances but fell away as he eyed her. “Even if ye could, ye wouldnae want to remember, aye?”
“I dunno.” She shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. Not because of possibly having seen his goods but for another reason entirely. “Just keep your plaid where it belongs.”
“Aye, lass.” He frowned as he fingered what hair he had left. “The bastards will suffer for this.”
“It’s not too bad.” Nicole shrugged and attempted a grin. “Sort of a Mad Max look.”
“Mad Max?”
“Just a movie. Don’t worry about it.”
Rònan sighed and nodded again as he continued to take in their surroundings. “Enough about burned hair and impressive cocks. Tell me what happened since last I saw you.”
So she told him. Carefully and slowly and without too much detail. After all, there was no way to know who was listening. When finished, she licked her lips, thirsty.
Rònan
mulled over her words for several minutes before he squeezed her hand. “Like my brethren, I am so proud to have you amongst the MacLomains, Nicole. You are a true warrior and hero.”
“Stop it.” She pulled her hand away. “Anybody would do the same when it comes to protecting a kid.”
“Nay, you’re wrong,” he said softly and took her hand again. “Most would like to think they would, but true bravery isnae so easily found. Not the kind you possess.”
“Then you underestimate people,” she said. The truth was she would have shunned her own words even a few weeks ago but not now having met the MacLomains, MacLeods, and even some Hamiltons. “I’m surprised to hear you say as much because you’ve been surrounded by courageous people your whole life.”
“True,” he conceded. “But they've been people born and raised in an era where they had no choice. Not like you who was born in the twenty-first century. And even then I wonder how many would sacrifice themselves for someone who wasnae their kin as you have done.”
“Probably tons.” She shrugged. “It’s no big deal, okay? So let it go.”
“If that’s what you prefer.” But Rònan was as blunt as her if not a smidge more direct, pouring on his accent likely because he felt like it. “So tell me, how goes lying with my cousin? Have ye lost yer heart, then?”
“To Niall? God, no.” Nicole pulled her hand away again and snorted.
“Well, I wasnae referring to Logan because he’s taken and Darach could only handle the likes of ye for so long.” He tugged at her way oversized tunic. “Nay, yer a perfect fit for Niall if ever I saw one.”
“I don’t fit with anyone.” She batted his hand away, cursing that she still wore Niall’s shirt. “Least of all your brutish cousin.”
Rònan grinned and a twinkle lit his good eye. “So ye have lost yer heart!”
“How the hell did you get that outta what I just said?” She shook her head. “I think you’re still suffering from a fever.”
He brushed his knuckle playfully against her cheek. “Because ye blushed.” Then he winked. “And the minute I spoke of him ye smelled of arousal.”
Honor of a Scottish Warrior Page 18
