Highland Guardian

by Melissa Mayhue

  “McCullough residence.”

  “Martha. Thank the Fates.” Relief flooded through him, leaving a vague weakness in its wake. “What’s kept you from answering the bloody telephone?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I canna get either of them for you right now. His Lordship is in London for a time and Mr. Henry is unavailable.”

  “It’s me, Martha. Ian.” Had the woman gone daft?

  “Yes, yes I know. But you’ll have to figure it out on yer own. Everyone’s tied up here. Good day.”

  The click that followed vibrated with an ominous air of finality.

  Silence pressed at him from the telephone he gripped in his hand as fear clawed at his gut. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  He pressed the accelerator toward the floor, fearing he was already too late.

  * * *

  “Mon petit cadeau de la fée.” Reynard smiled as he reached her side. “What a shame. Your lovely crystal is ruined.”

  “What are you doing here?” Sarah’s reaction added to the doubt growing in Ramos’s mind.

  “You invited me. Aren’t you pleased to see me again?” Reynard’s hand closed around her upper arm and he pulled her toward him.

  Watching the reflection of dread grow on Sarah’s face as his father’s grip tightened on her arm, Ramos regretted not having pursued the subject of what she’d sensed in the man when he’d had the opportunity. Suddenly it seemed of utmost importance to him to know why she had reacted so violently to his father’s touch.

  “Father.” Ramos hadn’t intended the rebuke to sound so sharp, but his concern was building. Things were not going at all as he had hoped.

  Reynard’s head snapped up, irritation filling his eyes, as his hand dropped to his side. “Very well. As you wish. For now.”

  “What’s going on here, Ramos? Why are these people with you?” She backed away from Reynard, her hand rubbing the spot where he had held her.

  Ramos crossed to her, placing his hand on her shoulder and, in the process, discreetly inserting his body between her and his father. “Let me explain.”

  Reynard interrupted. “We’ve some unfinished business, you and I, ma petite. That’s what’s going on.”

  She ignored Reynard, perhaps the first time Ramos had seen anyone disregard his father so completely.

  “You can begin your explanation with what she’s doing here.” Sarah tilted her head toward Nicole, her voice faltering just a little. “And by telling me what’s wrong with her.”

  Reynard had insisted on keeping the Mortals who’d traveled with them under a compulsion. Ramos had argued against the practice to no avail on their way here.

  “A simple compulsion, Ramos. It doesn’t harm them in the least and it makes everything progress so much more smoothly,” Reynard had claimed. But it concerned Ramos that his father gave no thought to free will or the value Mortals placed on it.

  Ramos glanced at Nicole now. As much as her emotionless stare unnerved him, it was obviously more upsetting for Sarah.

  “She’s all right, don’t be frightened,” he started.

  His father interrupted again. “I’m attempting to allow you to do this your way. Sit her down and explain our needs now or I will be forced to do it myself.” The promise sparking in Reynard’s gaze was disquieting.

  “I don’t understand any of this, Ramos.” Sarah’s gaze remained focused on him.

  “I know.” He led her to a chair, kneeling down in front of her after she sat. “We need your help, Sarah.”

  Hurt shone in her eyes. None of this was what he’d wanted. He’d known it should be handled differently. If only his father had given him more time. In time, his friendship with Sarah would have allowed him to explain all this to her, to ask for her help. But once Reynard had learned of the Guardian’s departure, he’d insisted on moving forward immediately.

  “Then why not just ask me for it the first time we spoke? Why all this charade of flirting and being my friend?”

  An inelegant snort issued from his father. “Friends. Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t be friends with females. Especially not her kind. They respond only to total domination.”

  Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she slowly looked up at Reynard. “My kind? What kind would that be?”

  His father glanced at her dismissively. “Mortal, of course.”

  Any number of emotions skittered across Sarah’s face, ending with a carefully blanked mask settling there.

  “As opposed to whatever you are, I assume. And that would be what exactly?”

  In spite of what Ramos had feared, she remained calm, her voice actually growing stronger.

  “A true Fae, of course.” Reynard arched an eyebrow. “A full-blood.”

  “Ho-ly shit.”

  She surged up from her chair, the mask gone, replaced with pure anger. Ramos rose in unison with her, holding her where she stood.

  “I am sick to death of all this Faerie garbage. Has everyone in this whole freakin’ country gone totally insane?”

  “It’s not garbage, Sarah. It’s real. Surely you know that by now.” He had to calm her down. An angry Sarah would result in an angry Reynard. And that was something to be avoided at all costs.

  “Father, will you now give me a moment alone? As I’d asked?” He bit off each of the words sharply.

  * * *

  Some unspoken emotion passed between the two men in that moment, communicated in the force of their locked gazes. Sarah couldn’t name what it was, but she could feel the friction of it crackling in the air around her, dancing across her skin.

  “Very well. You may have your moment, Ramos. But make it quick. I’ve grown weary with all the waiting.” Reynard flicked his wrist and Nicole, clutching her handbag, obediently followed him out the door.

  “Please. Sit.” Ramos motioned to the chair behind Sarah.

  Sincerity flowed from him, so, in spite of her confusion and anger, Sarah decided to give him a chance to explain. She sank back down and he knelt in front of her just as he had before, his hand on the arm of the chair.

  “Many centuries ago my people lived under the tyranny of their despotic rulers. They finally revolted, fighting for their freedom, their very lives, but they were overcome by treachery. The victors showed no mercy. My people were banished from their homes, thrown out into the wilderness, left to fend on their own. All these years they’ve suffered, struggling to survive in a harsh, alien environment. Now, at last, with your assistance, they have the chance to return to their homeland. Won’t you help them, Sarah? Help us?”

  “Us?” She waited for his nod before proceeding. “First I need answers, Ramos. Will you give them to me?”

  “If I can.”

  “You called him ‘Father.’ You’re telling me your people are”—she paused, hating to say it, to give it credence by speaking the word out loud—“Faeries?”

  As Ian had claimed.

  “In spite of how it may look, Reynard is my father.” He shrugged. “Those from the Faerie don’t age in the same way as Mortals.”

  From the Faerie. The phrase was everywhere. De la fée. In the books she’d read. The candy he’d sent. Reynard’s comment.

  “Your father said something to me when he came in. Something about the Faeries. What was that?”

  Ramos looked perplexed for a moment. “Ah, yes. Mon petit cadeau de la fée. My little gift from the Faeries.”

  “Because he thinks I’m descended from Faeries as well. And that’s why you think I can help you?”

  “We know you’re descended from our people, my sweet. And that is why you can help us. You have the ability to see the doorway to the Realm of Faerie. With your assistance we can enter and take back what is rightfully ours. We can reclaim our homes from the evil tyrants who tried to destroy my people.”

  Every word she had read about the Fae passed through her mind. Everything she had been told. She had written off Will’s stories as imagination and fancy, but she knew in her heart the child had not lied to her.
She would have felt a lie. Especially from someone whose emotions had been so closely tied to her own. When Ian had tried to explain more to her, she hadn’t wanted to believe him either, but, again, she had known he wasn’t lying. And she had the information from what she’d read.

  Time to put all that knowledge to the test. Time to make a decision. Could she accept the knowledge as fact? And if she did, what then?

  “The battle between your people and the others, it was fought here in this world at one time?”

  Ramos laid his hand on top of hers. “Yes. Until the evil ones found a way to steal the powers of my people, leaving them stranded and defenseless in this world.”

  She looked down at his hand clasping hers. He believed what he told her.

  “Were you there? Did you see this happen, experience it?”

  He shook his head, a sad little smile on his face. “No. Like you, my sweet, I’m half Mortal, and only recently born into this world.”

  “Recently?”

  “You must understand, in comparison to a true Faerie’s life span, my twenty-eight years is nothing.”

  “So you know of these things from…?”

  “My father.”

  Reynard. The most concentrated evil being she had ever experienced.

  “It’s all a lie, Ramos.” Her decision was made. “What he’s told you is not what happened at all.”

  He blinked rapidly, the only outward sign of his inner turmoil. “No. My father wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t lie to you, boy.”

  Ramos jumped to his feet at the sound of his father’s voice.

  “Has she agreed to help yet?”

  “No. I won’t help you.” Her decision was made. She would not be talked about as if she weren’t present. And she would not help the ones Will had so aptly termed the “really bad guys.”

  In the blink of an eye Reynard crossed the room, grabbing her hand and dragging her close to him, his breath fanning over her face. “Enough. You will do as I say.”

  Sarah felt a tingle, something like every hair on her body standing on end, but she’d been prepared for his touch this time. She already knew the feel of evil. She’d banished it from her being once before and didn’t plan to allow it another foothold.

  “You know, for such a superior being, you don’t hear so well. I said I won’t be helping you.”

  Ramos’s quick intake of breath only momentarily distracted her attention, and not for long enough to prevent her seeing shock pass over Reynard’s face.

  He quickly schooled his features, hiding whatever he might feel. But he hadn’t removed his hand from hers. He was disturbed by something that had just happened. Disturbed and surprised.

  Just as she was disturbed by the smile slowly growing on his face and the satisfaction she felt replace his surprise.

  “Oh, but I think you will, ma petite. The old man who lives up in the big house? You like him, yes?”

  What she didn’t like was the gleam in Reynard’s eye or the excitement she felt building in him. “Henry? What have you done to him?”

  “I haven’t done anything to the man. But should you continue to refuse us the assistance we need, I can’t speak for what might happen to him. Or his hired help.”

  Martha and Peter, too. Sarah felt ill. “You wouldn’t hurt those poor people.” She jerked her hand from his grasp as a new thought occurred to her. “You can’t hurt them. You don’t have any power to battle in this world.”

  Reynard studied his fingernails as he walked toward the door, stopping there to smile at her again, a slick, oily expression that made her stomach knot.

  “No, you’re quite correct about that. I can’t do anything to your friends. But someone else might.” He looked at his son. “Tell her, Ramos.”

  “Not you! You wouldn’t do something like that.” She couldn’t believe it of him.

  Ramos lowered his head, but not before she’d seen the sorrow evident in his eyes. “Bradley Tanner holds them in the house now.”

  “God knows Brad’s a complete jerk, with no consideration for anyone. But he wouldn’t do anything to hurt those people.” The relief she felt was short-lived.

  “Perhaps not if he were himself,” Ramos conceded.

  “Why is he not himself?” Doubt crept through her and she stole a glance at Nicole. The woman stood quietly, too quietly, at the door, a completely blank look in her eyes.

  “At last you begin to understand.” Reynard laughed as he snapped his fingers and Nicole came to his side. “You see? Mortals are so easy to control. Aren’t you, my pet?” He ran the back of his fingers lightly down Nicole’s cheek. “Bring her, Ramos.” Reynard left the room, Nicole trailing behind.

  “It’s a compulsion, Sarah. My father holds one on Brad as well. He’ll do anything he’s told to do. If it’s something abhorrent to his nature, he may fight against it, but ultimately he will do whatever my father bids. He can’t help it.”

  Ramos took her hand, and she pulled away from him. But not before she felt his confusion.

  “I can’t believe you’re a part of this, that you would have anything to do with something so horrible.”

  “We have to go now.” Ramos put his hand at her back, urging her forward, without meeting her eyes.

  With the threat to Henry and the others, she had no choice. She’d have to do what they wanted, whatever it was. Fear curdled low in her stomach.

  If only she’d listened to Ian. If only she’d opened herself to all she’d been told. If only he were here to save her one more time.

  * * *

  Ian honked impatiently at the cows milling around his car. He let off the brake again, inching forward, his bumper coming to rest against the leg of a brown-eyed beauty who had no interest in moving. He rolled down his window and pitched a half empty paper cup of coffee at the offending bovine. The top popped off on impact and the lukewarm brown liquid splashed on her side, quickly washing away in the soft rain that fell. The whites of her eyes gone large, she lowered her head, and, with a mournful bellow, she ambled out of his way.

  “About bloody time,” he fumed.

  His hands cramped from gripping the wheel so hard. He dropped one away, flexing his fingers. With the herd of cows behind him, he hit the gas and his car lurched forward, spraying water from the standing puddles he slammed through. He was close now.

  He switched his hold on the steering wheel, flexing the fingers of his other hand. His nerves were so on edge he couldn’t concentrate on forming a coherent plan of attack. What was wrong with him? He never let an impending battle get to him like this. Never.

  Of course he’d never had this much personally at stake before either.

  Up ahead he caught sight of the entrance to Thistle Down Manor. Even before he made the turn into the drive, the nerves that had been plaguing him since the call he’d received earlier this afternoon were supplanted by anger. Pure and simple.

  Dallyn stood just inside the gate.

  Ian pulled to a stop, flinging open his door before the gravel of the drive had settled.

  “Yer supposed to be watching over her. You gave me yer word you’d no let her out of yer sight.”

  “And I was until moments ago. She’s fine for now. You, on the other hand, need to know what’s happening here before you go barging in and cause more problems than you can solve.”

  The rebuke reflected on the Fae’s face only irritated Ian more. Perhaps because he knew Dallyn was right. He fought back the fear and fury warring for control of his being, clenching and unclenching his hands until he could trust himself to speak.

  “What’s the situation?” He had to think and behave like the warrior he was or all was lost. He concentrated on the cold rain pelting his face, focused on the calm he needed to recapture.

  “That’s better.” Dallyn reached out his hand, bringing it to rest on Ian’s shoulder. “I have faith in your abilities to do what needs to be done.”

  Ian needed to reclaim that same
faith.

  “They’re here.” It wasn’t a question. He already knew. Martha’s end of their telephone conversation had all but told him that.

  “They’ve a man in the manor house. I suspect you’ll want to deal with him first. He has Henry at gunpoint, along with Peter and Martha.”

  In his house. They had invaded the sanctity of his home. Threatened his nephew. The growl that started low in his throat was beyond his control.

  “The one in the house is a Mortal, Ian. He’s under a compulsion. You’ll need to take care not to harm him.”

  “The one in the house? Where are the others?” The sick roiling in his stomach hit him before the words were out of his mouth. “Sarah?”

  The flicker in Dallyn’s eyes should have been answer enough. “They’ve taken her. She’s on the path to the Portal, though progress is slowed by her having no idea what it is she searches for.”

  “Does she lead them…willingly?”

  “No.”

  Ian released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d held. One fear down. Sarah wasn’t a part of this. He looked up to find the Fae’s reproachful gaze fastened on him.

  “You knew she wasn’t in league with them.” Dallyn shook his head, holding up a hand. “No, I didn’t read your thoughts. I didn’t have to. It was clearly written on your face. Best you not let her see that doubt. She’s already more than a little irritated with you.”

  That had to be a huge understatement. Ian just hoped this day would end with her still able to vent that irritation. He’d willingly receive it.

  Leaving the car, he started for the manor. He’d have to approach quietly.

  “I’ll wait for you as long as I can.”

  Dallyn didn’t need to add any clarification. Ian understood. The Fae would wait until the others approached the Portal. Then he would need to do his job. Stop them on the other side.

  * * *

  “How much farther?”

  Reynard’s voice grated on her nerves. The fact that he continued to ask the same question at every twist and turn didn’t help. Nor did the rain. The gray afternoon felt as if it were closing in on her.

  “I don’t know.” Sarah gritted her teeth, trying not to scream her response.