“With luck, I shall return before the snow flies.”
When the wind bit at his flesh, he turned Falcon westward. He did not wish to stray from the coast, but the wind grew harsh. They rode over rolling hills of gorse bushes that soon gave way to thick forest vegetation.
Warmer, he followed a small deer trail that led through the trees, as he searched for a northward trail to continue their quest. A small cottage on the outskirts of the next town held the tools he required.
Inhaling the odor of smoke, Gavin pulled back on the reins, and Falcon reared. After calming the beast, Gavin spotted his destination through the branches. His, and his steed’s agitation, rose.
“Someone is in residence.”
“Aye, Highlander. I have waited for ye.”
Gavin was off his mount, with his sword unsheathed, before he spotted Lana. Her black hair was unfettered, and blew behind her like faerie wings. Amber eyes, glowing in the shadows, bore into his chest. She was a hand’s breath shorter than Jenny, and wore a black cloak, which the young witch let fall open. The tops of her white breasts shone like moonlight, above her blood red gown. Gavin felt nothing for the comely witch, which in itself proved a strange sensation.
“Put away yer weapon, Sinclair. I be yer friend. Come. ‘Tis getting cold, and I have a fire and food waiting for us.”
“Us? There is no us. That cottage and yer tools are all I desire, naught else.” Gavin lowered his sword, but did not dare take his eyes off her.
“My laird, please do not waste time. Yer brother needs ye.”
“I am not yer laird. What do ye know of Niall?”
She laughed. “I know all there is to know. He has warmed my bed many times, with nay one complaint. Together, we shall find him.” Lana turned away and, although it was still morning, she disappeared into the darkness beneath the forest canopy of red and gold leaves, leaving Gavin to sheath his sword, grab Falcon’s reins, and continue along the trail toward the cottage. Lana was a disturbing problem. People did not practice witchery in front of others, as a rule. A death sentence still threatened those using potions and conjuring spells in the Highlands, though the Mackenzies and the Gunns allowed Dorcas Swann to practice in their villages. Rumors said Lana rarely visited the village near Castle Ruadh, and Niall never mentioned he had bedded her.
As he and Falcon broke from the dense forest into a clearing, Lana entered the cottage, winking at him over her shoulder. Lana’s gaze promised she would not allow him to forget her presence. Her eyes revealed she wished another Sinclair warmed her bed.
She will feel only disappointment.
Gavin led Falcon to a small lean-to. He pondered but for a moment whether he should remove the saddle, then left it upon the beast.
I will gather what I need, then leave this place in haste.
Gavin agreed, silently, that to refuse a willing lass’s bold invitation was not like him. Was it the sudden yearning to find Jenny, or did he loathe to touch his brother’s leavings? Either way, his potions awaited his undivided attention. As he slipped through the cottage’s small doorway, a spell came to mind.
Night’s fury, still yer windy bite.
Jealous angst, calm yer lust’s plight.
A lover’s kiss shall save the night.
Who was the lover? Certainly not Lana. The comely lass was near the fireplace, bent over a steaming cauldron hanging from a chain. The fire’s peaty smoke swirled in an unusual manner, reminiscent of the morning fog that had descended on him in the bailey. Like an eerie mist, it filled the room with its odd stench, then disappeared up the chimney.
The hair on Gavin’s neck stood on end, and a peculiar scent startled him. With the smoke cleared, the stew’s odd aroma warned him not to partake of her offerings. Had she poisoned the food?
If she has, for what purpose?
He was not here to harm her, or use her. His mission was clear. Gather the needed potions, and use the tools in her kitchen to crush and liquefy them. When finished, add them to the satchel filled with herbs and gemstones, say the spell, and travel forward in time. Easy.
Lana sidled up behind him, and her fingers swept along the skin beneath his ear. He stepped aside, farther from the fire, and Lana moved toward the small table.
“Have a seat. Join me?” Lana scooped stew into a bowl and set it on a small table. She neglected to serve herself.
“You eat it, lass. I have work to do. Time is of the essence.”
She giggled, and the sound grated in his ears. The single room cottage was warm and inviting, and the bed was much too near. He steeled himself to follow his plans, do the work, and leave. He would take Falcon with him, this trip.
I will no’ leave him stranded here, with her.
“Eat. I insist.” Lana stepped closer.
Gavin drew his dirk from the sheath at his hip, and pointed it at the valley between her breasts. “Nay. Leave me be, or leave this house.”
“This is my cottage. How dare ye--”
Gavin flicked the weapon higher, near the side of her nose. “If ye so much as twitch, lass, I shall strike. On my brother, a scar is appealing. On ye, however, men will no’ be so happy to pursue ye. Do we understand each other?”
Her eyes bore into his, then blinked her agreement. She dare not nod, or his threat would occur by her own movements. Gavin drew the dirk away, and crossed to the worktable on the opposite side of the room, laying the weapon within easy reach. Shelves filled with clay jars covered the dusty shelves, and cobwebs hung over everything.
“I see ye have not used these goods in some time. Why do ye no’ practice yer healing?”
“Dorcas Swann threatened me, again.” She crossed her arms and fell into the chair beside the small table, near the hearth. She did not touch the steaming bowl of stew.
He laughed. “Aye, she has high standards. I am not perfect in her eyes, either.”
“Ha! She is impossible. She gives all witches and sorcerers a bad name by healing sick villagers, yet never asking payment! Utter nonsense. Should we use our abilities regardless of whether someone can pay? Growing, drying, and grinding herbs and liquefying potions is hard work.”
Gavin gazed at baskets of food piled in a cleaner corner, opposite barrels of ale and cider.
“I see ye will no’ starve, nor die of thirst. Compliments of yer lovers?”
She snorted, but did not deny his words. Was Niall in love with the wench, or merely using her to relieve his lustful urges?
Gavin collected several jars from the shelf and set them on the worktable.
“I shall return shortly. Have ye any heated water?”
Lana nodded, but did not move.
Gavin headed outside, and cared for Falcon. He filled the feed trough with oats he kept hidden under an oilcloth near the cottage, then searched his leather bag for needed herbs not found in Lana’s supplies. Grabbing the required small pouches, he patted Falcon’s rump. “We leave soon, my friend. Eat well.”
He sniffed the air. Only chimney smoke drifted on the breeze, but his senses went on high alert. Heading inside, his attention to his task did not waver, not even when Lana appeared at his elbow.
“Here be yer water.” She set down the pitcher. “What are ye concocting?”
Ignoring her, Gavin mixed the herbs, then filled several bottles with a variety of potions. Setting them aside, he wiped his hand on a cloth she handed him.
“Izzy…Isobel MacHamish…made use of a protection potion, I heard tell.”
“Isobel? Is she no’ yer betrothed?”
“Nay. ‘Tis over.”
“Aye?”
“She has found another. A man named Bryce Buchanan.”
“A Buchanan? How did she…? Never mind. The point is that ye be no longer betrothed.” Lana’s right eyebrow lifted, and she wet her lips with a tiny pink tongue.
He shuddered. “After my father attacked her, the story goes, Izzy gained her freedom by breaking a vial of cow-cakes across his cheek.”
“Praise
the Goddess! Such a potion burns the skin, so they say. It worked?”
Gavin nodded. He had not seen his sire since the attack on Castle Ruadh. Niall was lost in the sea that same day. Gavin’s thoughts had remained on saving Niall.
Lana tapped a fingertip against her bottom lip. “If I recall, ye make an infusion of giant hogweed.”
“Aye, ‘tis a flower in my possession.”
“I love a man who collects…flowers.”
“Please excuse me, so I may crush the buds, and complete my task in silence.”
Lana sniffed, but hurried away. The clang of dishes, and her shuffling feet echoed inside the small room, but he was able to finish his task.
After melting candle wax over the tops of the potion bottles, and gathering his extra herbs and buds, he mentally went over his list. He had not planned to make a cow-cakes potion, but Jenny had need of protection. It had worked well, for Izzy.
And, ‘tis safer than handing her a dirk.
“I am off. I thank ye for yer hospitality.” As Gavin strode across the room, he opened a pouch and dumped the contents into his cupped hand. He chose six glittering gemstones that he did not require in order to travel through time, and to return. When Lana met him by the door, he pressed them into her palm.
Her eyes widened.
Gavin closed her fingers over the small treasure. “ ‘Tis not what ye demanded of me, but ‘tis all I can give. My heart lies elsewhere.”
“Hmph! I dinno’ ask for yer heart. Who be the lass who has ye so tied up in knots, ye refuse to take yer pleasure in another’s bed?”
Gavin smiled, thinking of Jenny, but he dare not share her name. Lana was not one to keep secrets. Without answering, he strode outside, and headed to the lean-to. He shoved the potion bottles into the bag attached to his saddle. As he untied Falcon’s reins, Lana appeared at his side.
“Stay,” she said, while her fingers tapped softly along his forearm, “and allow me to ease ye, within my bed. One night?”
Gavin suspected someone had hired her to delay him. He did not know why, but he would not waste another minute, not when Jenny was in danger. He turned away, and tightened the saddle’s girth strap.
“Nay, lass,” he said, over his shoulder, “A woman, and my future, waits for me. Time is fleeting.”
“Ye must stay a while longer. I insist, Laird Sinclair.”
“Lana, ye have been paid well, but I have to--”
A blade sliced through his linen shirt, piercing the skin above his leather belt. Falling forward to escape the attack, he slammed into Falcon’s rump. The quick movement dislodged the small blade from his lower back. Instinct made him spin toward her, and the back of his hand met her left cheek.
“Argh!” Lana screamed. She fell sideways, and landed in a heap at his feet.
“Who paid ye, witch?” Pain seared Gavin’s side, and dampness spread. He was losing blood.
Lana had curled into a ball, but did not answer. She covered her head, as if she expected his blade to fall.
“I shall deal with ye, on my return.” Gripping Falcon’s reins, Gavin mounted his steed. Clutching his bloody side, he yanked the leather straps until Falcon backed from the lean-to. The quivering animal smelled blood. His beast was aware the battle had begun.
“Steady, my friend. We have a mission, and I must not fail.”
I hope I live long enough to complete the task.
Threading their way through the forest, they reached the dark trail that led them back to the sea. He slowed Falcon to barely a walk, then released the reins. The well-trained garron kept moving, and gave Gavin time to gather his leather bag to his lap. Searching the shadowy depths, his blood-soaked hand found the potions he needed.
“Trust in me, Falcon. We must stay together. Never fear.” Pulling to a stop at the edge of the cliffs, the barest of moonlight caressed the peaks of distant waves. Night was falling.
Time passes too fast!
He clutched the tools of his sorcery to his breast, and spoke the words from earlier.
Night’s fury, still yer windy bite.
Jealous angst, calm yer lust’s plight.
A lover’s kiss shall save the night.
He slammed the bottles to the ground, and a great ball of light surrounded horse and rider. The odor of brimstone choked the air from his lungs. Falcon stirred between his thighs, but did not step from the bubble of mist. Daylight flooded his vision, and the crash of breaking waves transformed into the rushing water of a waterfall. Fresh water splashed on his head, and Falcon reared beneath the icy spray.
“Nay!” Pain turned to ice the moment his bloody body hit the water’s surface. Clear, unsalted water filled his nose.
A stream?
When his mouth opened at the shock, water flowed in. Needing to breathe, he flailed his arms and struggled to lower his feet. As fate would have it, his head breached the surface the same moment his waterlogged boots touched the ground.
Coughing up water, with his soaked plaid plastered to his knees, and his hair in his eyes, he struggled to shore. Slime coated rocks hindered his purchase, and the spray from the waterfall made him shiver. The cascade was small, but its roar and his coughs kept him from calling Falcon.
Where is he? Better yet, where am I?
CHAPTER 10
Late September
Present Day
Jenny struggled against Randy Hay’s grip, but a hitch in her side slowed her down. When they first spoke on the bleachers, she sensed he did not mean her bodily harm, but Randy was unaware of his strength. His initial grip on her forearm would leave a bruise.
He wrangled two-thousand pound bulls and huge hay bales. The arm he had wrapped around her waist was as hard and inflexible as corded steel. For a thin, smelly man, he was uncommonly strong.
“You probably toss Highland bulls when you’re not kidnapping women.”
“Shut up.”
When he hurried along a gravel path behind the ski lodge, she tripped, but his iron grip kept her upright. “Randy, slow down. I just lost a slipper.”
At least her missing shoe helped leave a trail. Denise would find it. “Where are we going? The corral is the other way.”
Randy muttered something, but didn’t slow the pace. She figured they headed for either the parking lot, or the river. If he tried to throw her inside a car or truck, she would scream, bite, or kick before allowing that to happen.
Randy tugged her so close to his body that he bruised her ribs. “Seems like you can’t be trusted to listen. You and I have some unfinished business.”
“You’re not making sense,” Jenny said, squirming.
“You remind me of my last girlfriend. She didn’t understand the rules, either.”
“Rules? What rules?”
“I asked you out. You’re supposed to say yes. No argument, no excuses. How are you going to get to know me, if you let others get in the way?”
How should she answer? Anything that came to mind would irritate him further. Getting dragged from the crowds, to the relative silence of a parking lot void of people, was dangerous. He had latched onto her so fast, she hadn’t time to read his aura.
They crossed the parking lot filled with cars, SUVs, and buses, but not one living soul.
When they crossed a grassy hillock, the river came into view. Sliding down the slope toward the water’s rocky edge, her spidey sense went on high alert. Damp palms and an increased heart rate made breathing more difficult.
His arm squeezing my ribs doesn’t help. “Let me go!”
“No!”
Can’t say I didn’t try, but Jenny grew more worried. Glancing left and right at the empty riverbank, lined on the far side by thick trees, Jenny’s shoulders tensed. Everyone was watching the events on the grass-covered ski slopes, or drinking in the lodge. If the opportunity arrived, she’d kick him in the nuts, and toss him in the water.
He’d smell better.
She tried to pull away, then purposely lost her other slipper. She
bit her lower lip, to keep from smiling at having left another clue for her rescuers to follow. Denise would sound the alarm.
Unless she thinks my being alone with a guy is good news!
No, anger had tainted Randy’s words, and his threats against the clinic would make Denise act fast. She was smart. She knew Jenny hadn’t caused any pain or discomfort to the cow. Randy lied. What else had he lied about?
“How did your cow really get hurt?”
“Smart. I don’t like that in a woman.”
“Meaning?”
At the edge of the river, he pulled her in the same direction of the current. A dense thicket of bushes and trees loomed.
“I admit it. I kicked the stupid cow. She was moving too slow, and I had a beer waiting for me in the lodge.” He laughed.
Jenny saw red. She wrenched a fist up, and swung it at his face. It connected with his chin, snapping his head back.
“Bitch!”
As he cursed a blue streak, she shoved him, and he fell on his butt. Unfortunately for Jenny, he pulled her down with him. When she struggled to free herself, they rolled. His growing rage, and attempt to gain his footing by scrambling on top of her, caused them to roll like a tangled mess down the slanted embankment.
Splash!
Jenny’s head sank beneath the churning surface. Blasted by cold water, her shocked muscles contracted. When she tried to scream, water filled her mouth and shot up her nose. Randy thrashed about, sometimes under her and sometimes beside her. His fingers tore at her shirt, and grabbed fistfuls of hair. When he rolled on top of her and the back of her head hit the river bottom, she instinctively raised her knee.
It hit him where it hurt, and he let go. Euphoria turned to panic when her feet tangled in her long skirt. They’d kicked up silt and sand during their struggle, and she couldn’t tell which way was up.
I need to breathe!
***
Gavin inhaled chilled air. Wet skin pebbled beneath his soaked clothing, but he had more on his mind than his personal discomfort. Wading over slippery rocks and thick gravelly sand, he collapsed in the dry grass. He removed his boots and dumped the water he had collected.
My Dark Highlander Page 9
