by A. C. James
Crap. Crap. No. Crap. Please don’t wake up. Not now.
She pressed herself up against the wall, waiting for his snoring to return to wounded-warthog mode before easing herself through the doorway.
Furtively, she walked on the balls of her feet, in case the floorboards were equally squeaky, and skirted around the cracked Formica kitchen counter. It was a disgusting shade of green and looked like the seventies were still in full swing. She reached for the scissors, which were tucked into the wooden butcher block positioned near an equally ugly tile backsplash.
Felicity wondered if this was Caitlyn’s cottage or Dillon’s. Either way, if she had to live with a kitchen like this, she might consider drastic measures to make a quick buck too. No, there really was no excuse for their craziness, but she was getting a little punchy from the adrenaline pumping through her. She grabbed the scissors and made a stealthy retreat to the bedroom so she could free Maelíosa.
Maelíosa eyed her admiringly. “You…you’re sneaky. Y-y-oou’ve got a set of balls on ye.” She paused. “This horse tranquilizer isn’t half-bad, but it feels like I might be a little…drunk. Aye, yer gonna have to help me. I don’t think this shite has worn off yet.”
Felicity couldn’t help smiling at Maelíosa’s muddled speech. Niall’s sister reminded her very much of Cyn. She took the scissors and cut through the duct tape binding Maelíosa’s wrists and ankles. It was still difficult, but at least it wasn’t taking her a hundred years. It was only a matter of time before Caitlyn came back. She had no idea how long she was supposed to be filling in at the pub for her aunt.
“Do you think you can walk?” Felicity asked.
“Well, you’re not carrying me so I supppoooose I need to get off my arse. You’re tough, but you’re tiny. Give me yer arm.”
Felicity laughed softly. “Tiny?”
“Aye, tiny. The women in our clan tend to be very tall. Now help me up.”
“You must be the exception.”
Maelíosa winced as Felicity helped her up. “Aye, now we have to make it past that drunken arse in there. Who the fuck doesn’t put a window in a bedroom? Or is this a dining room?”
Unfortunately, Maelíosa was right. The door in the kitchen was the closest exit from here, but Felicity was kind of grateful there wasn’t a window for her to fall through, since she’d been drugged. She wasn’t entirely sure whether this was a bedroom either. There wasn’t any furniture in it, so it was hard to tell. The space looked like a work in progress, resembling her own life. It didn’t matter either way—priority number one was getting the fuck out of here. “Put your arm around my shoulder.”
“I’m fine. Truly… I can move faster if I’m not leaning on ye. I’m already healing. I should be fine if I can just get outside and shift. I’ll go to our healer.”
Felicity nodded. She seemed steady enough on her feet, but she was hobbling about as if it took tremendous effort. Maelíosa had paused again, but her speech was less slurred. The horse tranquilizer must have been losing some of its effect due to her accelerated healing.
Maelíosa took the lead, and they both moved quietly through the kitchen. Felicity was carrying her shoes, planning to put them on outside. She could walk on the cold, hard floor more quietly without them. Maelíosa opened the kitchen door—luckily it wasn’t as noisy as the other door had been.
Felicity was careful not to let it slam and followed Maelíosa around the side of the house. She walked over the grass barefooted. The shoes could wait until the house was out of sight.
Not that it mattered in the end. Someone grabbed her from behind. She turned, expecting it to be Dillon, but instead it was Archer. There was no way she’d be able to get away from him and outrun him without any shoes. Felicity cursed herself for not putting them on in the house, but her plan had made sense in her head—it had just been thwarted by her dumb luck.
Maelíosa was still pretty weak. At least one of them could go for help, and Maelíosa should be able to find her brother.
“Run!” Felicity screamed.
“Shut the bloody hell up,” Archer said, digging his fingers into her arm even harder.
Maelíosa’s eyes bulged at the sight of Archer clutching Felicity and ruining their escape. His grip was brutal, and Felicity winced.
“You have to run!”
“I won’t leave you,” Maelíosa said.
“You don’t have any choice.”
Archer wrenched her arm savagely.
-Damnit, Felicity. I’m too weak to fight him.-
Felicity swallowed. “I know. Go!”
-I’ll get help.-
Maelíosa shifted into her stallion form. She made an agonized sound as her legs lengthened and her feet became hooves. She had a long, black mane like Niall, but her eyes glowed green. Felicity heard Archer murmur, “I’ll be damned.”
But even as Archer began to drag Felicity back to the house, she could tell Maelíosa’s stallion didn’t want to leave her. There was a painful look of helplessness reflected in those emerald eyes. She had faith that Niall would come for her, but she’d never stop fighting. This was how it had to be. Maelíosa needed to find her brother and go to the healer. Felicity held onto the hope that Maelíosa would return with Niall at her side and they’d find her still breathing.
Chapter 6
Maelíosa hated leaving Felicity, but they both knew she’d never be able to put up a fight in her weakened condition. As much as she hated to admit it, it was true. The bleeding in her side had subsided —she was already starting to heal, and shifting had accelerated the process. But she was still far from the Realm, and a healer would still need to work on her.
She tried to call out to Niall, but it had taken everything she had just to shift into her stallion form. The only response was the wind rushing through her mane, sounding almost like a whisper. Her hooves beat down the dirt road as she sped away from the cottage that had become their prison.
-Niall!- She called out to him again, this time pushing with her mind until light burst behind her eyes. The telepathic surge was enough this time. She could sense her brother clearly in her thoughts. His worry and agitation made her reel.
-Maelíosa…-
-They have Felicity. She helped me escape, but I wasn’t strong enough to save her.- Maelíosa could feel the agitation dissipate as fear replaced it, overtaking all else. The power of his reaction almost made her sick. Her stallion faltered.
-Where are you? Can you meet me at the threshold of the veil?-
-Aye.-
She let go of the connection. His emotions were making her queasy, and it was hard enough to keep one hoof in front of the other. Her galloping pace was slowing. Shifting had helped kick-start the healing process, but contacting Niall had taken the last bit of her strength. She had to make it to the veil. She’d be stronger once she reached the Realm and their healer had a look at her.
Niall was with Tomas, Kieran, and Finn when she reached the veil. She could almost see the watchtower behind them. She’d never seen the veil this thin. Well, not since Tomas had taken his mate, but that was a long time ago. It was shortly after that when a farmer’s daughter had fallen for a clansman and her father, none too pleased about the development, stopped the mating by chasing down the stallion with a pitchfork. Everything had changed.
She shifted back into her human form and collapsed twenty paces from them.
Kieran rushed to her side. “Maelíosa!”
“I’m all right,” she choked out. “You need to help Felicity. She’s in terrible danger. I’m so, so sorry, Niall. I didn’t want to leave her, but I didn’t have a choice.”
Niall walked toward her. He cupped her face in his hands before pulling her into his arms. “I’m just glad you’re all right. If I’d lost both of you I don’t know what I’d do—but I can’t lose Felicity. Do you know where you were being held?”
“Aye. I can show you.” Maelíosa pushed Niall’s hands away and placed hers alongside his temples. She closed her eye
s and pictured the cottage where they were being held. She showed him the kitchen, the door, and the outside of the house. Tears stung her eyes as she exposed what had happened when she’d had to leave Felicity. It pained her to admit that she hadn’t been strong enough, and it had nearly killed her to leave her in the brutal hands of their captors. Maelíosa visualized the run from the house to the veil in as much detail as she could manage. Then, without warning, she felt like she was falling as everything faded to black.
* * *
Niall caught her limp body. “She’s wiped out. It probably took all her strength to show me where to find Felicity.”
“Aye,” Tomas agreed. “What do you propose we do?”
“I need one of you to take my sister to the healer.”
“I’ll go,” Kieran said as he stepped forward.
Niall shifted his weight and lowered his sister’s body into Kieran’s arms. “Gentle, mate.”
Kieran nodded.
Maelíosa looked so tiny and fragile cradled in Kieran’s arms. His firecracker sister was almost unrecognizable. Her skin had turned incredibly pale. Maelíosa meant the world to him, but he had no choice but to leave her in Kieran’s capable hands and hope the healer could help her. She shouldn’t have put that much energy into the mind-link to show him what happened, but he was glad she had. They were running out of time.
“She’s safe with me,” Kieran said. “Go and find your mate. Don’t worry about Maelíosa. I’ll take care of her.”
Niall waved him toward the veil. “Aye, I know ye will.”
“I always have taken care of you,” Kieran murmured as he held her tenderly.
Kieran turned, carrying Maelíosa through the misty threshold. Niall didn’t watch or wait for them to make it past the tower. He needed to find Felicity immediately. The mind-link had shown him where to go. Now he could feel his mate, her fear that she’d never see him again. He had to get to her before it was too late.
“What’s the plan?” Finn asked.
“We save my mate,” Niall said with fierce conviction.
Tomas crossed his arms, looking every bit the warrior. “Let’s get her back then.”
“Aye,” Niall said. “She’s being held in a cottage near the west-facing cliffs.”
“I know the terrain well,” Tomas said.
“Follow my lead,” Niall said, taking off to the cottage he’d been shown.
Even in human form they could run faster than any mortal, but not as fast as he could move in his stallion form. Still, he’d wait until he could scope out the situation before deciding to put his stallion into play. His beast huffed. He wanted to be part of the fight too. After all, she was their mate, and he bucked at sitting on the side-lines. Niall quieted the beast with his mind. His entire focus had to be on getting Felicity back.
She’d changed him in ways he’d never imagined possible. He’d never wanted a mate. He’d have done it to fulfil his obligation to his clan and save his sister from a union he didn’t approve of, but now everything had changed. Felicity had made the man in him—and his stallion—embrace a life and a love he’d never thought was possible. All of this flickered through his mind as he raced to save her.
Chapter 7
Archer grabbed her by the arm at first, but he switched his grip to her hair instead. Felicity tripped on a rock and tumbled to the ground. Her knees scraped against it as Archer dragged her back into the house, her hair fisted in his hand. She scrambled to keep her skin from getting roughed up, but it was no use. He was far too strong.
“Let go of me. I’ll walk. I swear I won’t try to get away again. Please…You’re hurting me,” Felicity said.
“If you’d cooperated and written the story like you were supposed to, this would all be over.”
“I’d never betray Niall. I’d never out his clan.”
It made her sick that all Archer wanted was to make money, bringing tourists to the island to gawk at the púca. She felt dizzy again, and figured it was probably a concussion. Felicity felt bloody lucky that getting hit in the head by the rock hadn’t killed her.
Archer’s mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “Did you bang that thing, that beast…?” He bent down until he was at her eye level. “Caitlyn and Dillon told me you were his mate. You disgust me. Tell me, did he shag you doggy style? Wait—he’s a horse. So you’re like Catherine the Great, and it takes shagging a horse to turn you on.”
Heat rushed to Felicity’s face. She slapped him, hard.
“You bitch!” Archer yanked her up by the hair. She stumbled behind him as he opened the kitchen door. Dillon was still passed out from drinking too much whiskey and quite oblivious when they walked in. Archer pulled out the chair across from Dillon and shoved her into it.
“She didn’t fuck a horse, you idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“Catherine the Great,” Felicity spat out. “She died of a stroke, not screwing a bloody horse, you ridiculous fool.”
Archer raised an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you clever? Good. Don’t do anything stupid. Dillon…what’d you do with the duct tape?”
A particularly loud warthog-like snore was Dillon’s only response.
“Damn, do I have to do everything myself?”
Archer smirked at her shoeless feet and headed toward the bedroom, probably searching for the duct tape. He must have thought she wouldn’t dare try to get away, assuming she wouldn’t get very far across the harsh gravel driveway and rough terrain without her boots. But a few scrapes was better than being dead. She’d push herself to run faster than she ever had. Archer had clearly underestimated her. She would do whatever it took to get the bloody hell out of here. There was no telling when Niall would find her, and she could be dead by then. She didn’t know Archer’s intentions, and she didn’t want to find out, either.
Archer came back, duct tape in hand, and leaned over her. “Hold out your wrists,” he said.
Right. If you’re going to do something, you’d better do it now.
She held out her wrists, feigning obedience. When he pulled the end of the duct tape, ready to immobilize her all over again, Felicity kicked him as hard as she could in the bollocks. Despite her lack of shoes, she still managed quite a blow. Archer doubled over, howling in pain. His shrieking was loud enough that Dillon rose from his slumber. Felicity bolted. The kitchen door opened onto a patio off the side of the house. The door slammed shut behind her as she raced outside, but as she looked over her shoulder, she saw Archer. He was red in the face and holding his balls as he lumbered after her.
“Go after her!” Archer yelled at Dillon.
Dillon hadn’t fully recovered from his drunken stupor. He wobbled from side to side as he attempted to catch up.
“The other way around the house, damn you,” Archer bellowed.
Felicity ran at full speed. She’d heard Archer send Dillon to circle around the other side of the house, which left her only one direction to run. The problem was that the house was situated near a western cliff, looking out over the Atlantic. Whoever had built it had done so to take advantage of the rather spectacular—and treacherous—view. She had nowhere else to go. When she’d tried to escape before, Dillon had been passed out. With him circling around, she was effectively trapped.
She wasn’t far from the edge when she stopped running and turned to face her opponents. There was no other choice.
Archer was ten paces from her and showed no signs of stopping. Her only option was to use his momentum against him. He kept coming at her, and she lifted her chin and stood her ground. Let him think her plan was to put up a fight. When he reached for her, she dodged out of the way, and Archer tumbled over the cliff into the Atlantic.
Dillon had finally made it around the other side of the house. He stopped half-way between it and where Felicity stood at the edge of the cliff. His mouth dropped open, but he promptly closed it. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Felicity’s heart pounded.
“He was my
ticket off this island!” His face turned beet-red. “Yer going to pay for that.”
She imagined steam coming out of his ears. Crap. Crap. Crap. No. Crap.
There really was nowhere to go, and her only way out was past an angry man who would probably kill her for the large sum of money Archer had promised to pay to him and Caitlyn.
No help for it really.
Felicity barrelled to the side and forward. Charging past Dillon was her only possible escape route. He careened toward her and punched her in the face. She’d never been punched before. William had been a prick, but he’d never laid a finger on her. It stunned her. Felicity fell to the ground.
Dillon began kicking her, and there was a sickening crack. She knew he’d broken one of her ribs when she realized she couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t fight anymore. He kept kicking her anyway. Then he did the unthinkable. He knelt next to her, picking up a stone, and started hitting her with it. There was a sharp stabbing pain in her chest, but the only thing she could think of was that she’d never told Niall that she loved him. He’d said it a million times, as a nickname of sorts, but she hadn’t been brave enough to let go of the past. Felicity hadn’t allowed herself to feel what she’d known in her gut since the night she first saw him sitting at the bar in the pub.
He was the one.
And now he’d never know it.
Chapter 8
It was the most horrific sound that Niall had ever heard. Crack. Pain. Excruciating, unbelievable pain emanated from his mate. Mate. She needs our help. There was no time to tell his beast to hold his horses. Felicity was in grave danger. He had to get to her as fast as he could. He could sense her fear and her weakened condition. In fact, she was growing weaker with every passing moment. Niall was afraid she wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer. She seemed so defeated.
