The Tartan MP3 Player (Highland Secrets Book One)

by C. A. Szarek

  “Good.”

  “Until we enter the kitchens, keep your head down. You’re with me, and my class is higher.”

  “Seriously?” Claire frowned, meeting his violet eyes.

  “Yes, my lady. It is not unusual for Alana’s maid to be escorted to get her meal, but servants never speak with royal guards.”

  “God, I thought Duncan’s world was backwards.”

  “It is how it is, my lady. Servant Fae don’t have much magic, so they’re looked down upon. The more magic a Fae possesses, the haughtier they usually are.”

  “That’s so wrong. How can you live here?”

  “If all goes well, I will not any longer.”

  Claire paused. “What?”

  “I swore to protect the princess for life. I stay with Alana. If she wishes to live with Alex MacLeod in the Human Realm, so will I.”

  She smiled. “Well, the MacLeods will welcome you at least, Xander. Since I’ve been here, they’ve been great.”

  The Fae Warrior nodded, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “We’ll see what Alana has decided, but her father has given her little choice. She’ll have to run away, and she’ll need protection. She’ll never accept the marriage contract.”

  “Marriage contract?”

  “Her father agreed to marry her to Prince Seamus of the Irish Fae. After King Fillan found out about Alex, he decided to make his daughter a widow. Not that he would’ve ever recognized her marriage to a human. He was angry she’d run off, married Laird Alex and gave him a bastard. Fae tend to take several lovers before marrying, so at least the Irish Prince wasn’t upset she isn’t innocent.”

  Claire gasped. “Wow. Just…wow.” She was glad her nephew would never be acknowledged by his other grandfather.

  “My uncle’s sentiments, my lady. I do not feel the same way. I respect Laird Alex MacLeod and am fond of my young cousin, Angus. At least his mother can finally be with the man she calls husband...the man she loves. Speaking of such things, you should tell Duncan MacLeod you love him.”

  Claire startled.

  Relax, dummy. You knew he read your mind.

  “I think I’m going to have to side with Duncan and say, get out of my head, Fae.”

  Xander laughed. It was a good sound to hear, despite their situation.

  “I can’t tell him. I’ve got to get back to Texas…to the future. And besides, I have no idea how he feels about me.” Her pulse thundered in her ears.

  If Xander had heard Claire’s feelings for Duncan, what had he heard from her man? Would he tell her?

  “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have revealed what I heard. Your inability to block your thoughts doesn’t give me the right to invade your mind.”

  So he won’t say anyway.

  Claire was torn between relief and pain. “It’s okay, Xander. I don’t want to know. I…wouldn’t want to hear it from you first. If you know what I mean.”

  “Aye, my lady, I do. Forgive me again, but your husband calls you mo gradh. How can you doubt how he feels for you?”

  “Yeah, what does that mean, anyway?”

  Xander smiled. “It means my love, my lady.”

  Claire gulped.

  Duncan was calling her his love?

  She fought the urge to cry, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

  In a daze, Claire followed Xander into the palace and silently donned the brown maid’s robe he handed her. She gladly covered her head with the oversized hood.

  Her stomach roiled, but she wasn’t torn up over her mission with the Fae Warrior.

  As soon as they got Alana, they’d meet Duncan and Alex in the woods. They’d rush to the Faery Stones. Claire would say goodbye to the only man she’d ever loved.

  She carried a tray of food. Her arms were like rubber and she had to order them locked into place.

  Claire should be tempted by the delicious scent of whatever was in the covered bowl, but her gut and throat were tight. Her tongue heavy, glued to the roof of her mouth.

  They ascended the winding stairwell in silence, Xander’s boots echoing behind Claire with his much heavier step.

  Thank God for all that cardio she’d done weekly on the treadmill because there were about two million stairs.

  The farther up they went, the more her stomach decided to chime in with nerves. Sweat trickled down between Claire’s shoulder blades, and she wanted to wiggle, but made herself concentrate on each stone step.

  It’d be just like me to trip and topple Xander over. We’d roll down the stairwell.

  “Stay calm, and we’ll be fine. When you get to the top, go to the right. There are two chambers.” His voice was so low she had to strain to catch his words.

  Duh, ‘cause if you were Alana’s maid, you’d know where she was housed.

  “Who goes there?” The deep voice jolted her.

  She froze on the landing.

  A huge soldier strode forward, a sword as big as Claire half drawn.

  “Xander. I’ve escorted a maid with the princess’s evening meal. It’s been properly screened for poison.”

  Poison? Wow.

  She really didn’t like the Fae.

  Claire kept her head down as Xander had instructed, but she could sense the Fae guard’s confusion.

  “Sir Xander…A maid was already—”

  He got nothing further out. Xander moved too fast to comprehend, slamming the guard into the wall with a resounding thud.

  She winced at the sickening crack, as his head bounced off the swirling marble-like stone.

  The Fae Warrior held the soldier against the wall, even though he appeared to be passed out. “Go. I’ve cancelled the magic on the locks, but they’re spelled to call the royal guard if tampered with. We haven’t much time.”

  Claire rushed forward and kicked the door open.

  The princess shot to her feet from a giant bed. She was just as gorgeous as her cousin. Her pale hair was free and fell to her waist in long waves. She wore a deep purple gown made of a shimmery fabric that changed colors in the light.

  The Fae must like that crap—it’s everywhere.

  Alana wore an honest-to-God jeweled tiara.

  Claire scanned the room. No one else was with them.

  Good.

  The place didn’t exactly look like a prison, though. The four poster bed was fit for any queen—or princess, as it were. Dark carved wood posts that gleamed with inset jewels. A chandelier hung from the tower ceiling. It was crusted with fine gems like her crown and the bed.

  The wooden armoire was just as dark and shiny.

  Gilded. The whole room.

  Even the hearth and mantel had winking specks that had to be diamonds.

  Whaddaya know, Riley was right.

  Claire didn’t give a shit. She’d come for Alana, not baubles.

  She tossed the tray of food and didn’t pause as it hit the stone floor, splashing stew and mead everywhere. The small loaf of bread bounced before it bumped the hearth and stopped.

  Claire rushed to her sister-in-law, shoving back the hood of the brown maid’s robe.

  “What—”

  “I’m Claire. Let’s go.” She grabbed Alana’s arm, ignoring the princess’s wide violet eyes.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Wait!” Alana’s shout was a regal command as Claire attempted to drag the princess across the tower room.

  “We don’t have time!”

  “I packed a bag. Been waiting for my cousin to make his move.” Like Xander, the accent was refined but definitively Scottish. Her voice was smooth. Alana tugged her arm out of Claire’s grip and snapped her fingers.

  Her dress poofed into lavender trews, a dark purple leather-looking, breast hugging bodice and white tunic beneath it. A brown satchel hung from her arm.

  “Handy,” Claire whispered.

  Guess purple is the princess’s signature color. Matches her eyes.

  Alana flashed a grin. “Now we can go. Where’s Xander?”

  “Dealing with y
our guard.”

  “Good. Where’s Alex?”

  “My husband—Duncan—is getting him.”

  The Fae princess’s violet eyes widened even more. “Husband?”

  “Aye.” Claire nodded as the word rolled off her tongue like she’d been using it her whole life.

  Alana looked even more surprised.

  “Long story. We need to go.”

  Xander’s large form filled the chamber doorway. He gestured. “Claire, cousin. Come.” His voice was more urgent with every word.

  As soon as Claire and Alana rushed toward the Fae Warrior, he kicked the door open to the other room at the top of the tower.

  Claire tried not to notice the Fae guard slumped against the wall.

  No blood visible, but was he dead?

  Xander urged them to enter in front of him. There was no one inside, but its level of grandeur mirrored the other room.

  Alana snapped her fingers as soon as they were all inside. The multicolored pane of glass in the window disappeared. No muss, no shatter, just poofed like the princess’s gown. Sunlight flowed into the now open space.

  “I gotta learn how to do that. What else can you do?” Claire stared at Alana.

  “We can discuss magic later. We must go.” Xander wrapped his arms around them both and lifted to the air with two great pumps of his wings.

  The princess didn’t get a chance to answer Claire.

  “I’m going to put my arm around your waist,” Alana said as the Fae Warrior flew straight for the window.

  “Okay.” Claire nodded as the other woman moved closer. A flowery scent tickled her nose. Alana smelled good, like a fresh rose garden.

  Xander muttered some unrecognizable words and increased his speed.

  Claire clutched at the princess as he abruptly changed direction.

  “Worry not,” Alana said in the vicinity of her ear. “He’s made us invisible. He won’t drop us, either.”

  The closeness of a stranger made her a little antsy, but it wasn’t like either Fae would harm her. And Alana was her sister-in-law. Claire forced herself to relax. “So, can you read minds?” She cursed her shaky voice.

  “No, but I can move things with my mind. I can speak mentally, too. Among other things.” A smile played at the princess’s lips.

  “Alana has much magic,” Xander murmured.

  “I can blink, as well, although my father had the tower spelled so I could not leave.”

  “Blink?”

  “Oh, blinking is a form of travel, I suppose. I can think about where I’d like to be and then appear there. I can’t jump between realms, but I don’t have to due to the Faery Stones. It’s a rare trait, but my lad can as well.”

  “Angus?”

  Alana’s face lit up as Claire said the little boy’s name. Her violet eyes sparkled. She positively glowed.

  Claire could feel her love for the child.

  “You’re not wrong about that, Claire,” Xander said. “That is a part of her magic as well. My cousin has empathic magic. Sometimes she projects what she feels.”

  “Geesh, stay out of my head.”

  Alana smirked.

  Xander didn’t answer, because he hovered over their meet-up point. He landed gently and released her and the princess.

  Claire looked around, her heart pounding more with every piece of unmoving foliage her eyes rested on.

  Her gaze darted from colored to colored tree.

  The two Fae stood close, also visually searching the clearing.

  They waited.

  Every second that ticked by made Claire’s stomach jump.

  Xander’s mouth was set in a hard line. He drew his massive sword. The swishing sound it made as it cleared the scabbard shot ice down her spine.

  She clenched her fists to her sides and chided herself to calm.

  Nothing’s wrong.

  They’ll burst through the trees any second now.

  Alana paced, her beautiful face flushed. Her tiara was gone, but Claire didn’t stop to wonder how and when it’d disappeared.

  Her gut was tight, chest aching. She swallowed hard. “Where’re Duncan and Alex?”

  * * * *

  Duncan growled as the fourteenth key failed to open the cell his brother was in.

  “Duncan, ye’ve got to hurry.” Alex grabbed the crystal bars with white knuckles, but Duncan didn’t let it distract him.

  “Yammering on like a lass isna’ helping, brother.”

  “Aye, I missed ye, too.”

  He looked up from the rattling ring of keys, only to meet amused blue eyes that matched his own. “Ye think this is funny?” Duncan snapped.

  “Laughing is better than despairing.”

  “Just a moment ago, ye were ordering me to free ye.”

  Alex sighed. “That hasna’ changed. Get me out of here, will ye? They’ll know something is wrong. Alana has been freed by her cousin—and a lass claiming to be yer wife? From the future, my wife says?”

  “Aye. My wife.” Duncan grunted. “I wed, what of it? And how do ye know about yer wife?”

  “What do ye mean, what of it? Ye? Wed?”

  “Are ye deaf? I already said aye. I’m going to strangle ye as soon as I free ye.”

  Alex laughed. “I’d rather ye not. I’d like to see my wife and my lad again.”

  “I came fer ye, did I no’?”

  “Alana says they’re to the clearing. Brother, please hurry. The royal guard will be alerted the magic on the tower locks was tampered with. We’ve run out of time.”

  Duncan rattled the keys. “They all look the same! I’ve lost track of which I tried. And how do ye know where they are?”

  “Alana can speak in my mind. Limited by distance, of course. Duncan.”

  He met Alex’s eyes. “What?”

  “Tis magic. Ye must concentrate to see past it. The key glows blue. Concentrate, little brother.”

  Duncan closed his eyes and took a breath. When he looked back down at the giant ring of keys, he stared until his temples throbbed.

  Finally, as if a veil was lifted from his eyes, he could see the key with a subtle blue glow. A pale aura surrounded it.

  “I have it!”

  “All right. There’s a trick to it. I’ve watched the guards. Ye must turn it to the right, then the left, then rotate it completely. If ye fail in that order, alarms will sound.”

  He followed Alex’s instructions, holding the key so tightly his wrist ached. Finally, finally, he felt and heard the lock pop.

  His brother pulled the door open, flashing a grin.

  Duncan sucked in another breath and yanked his twin into an embrace. Alex hugged him back, slapping his shoulder.

  “Thank ye. Captivity was tiresome.”

  Duncan shook his head, snorting. “It took me six months to find ye, I’m sorry, brother.”

  Alex, his identical twin, had always carried the same amount of muscle on his frame that he had, but his brother’s chest and shoulders were thinner.

  He frowned, studying the dirty kilt and tunic that was no longer white. Alex’s hair was stringy, in need of a good wash, and the beard on his face thick and scraggly.

  Like Duncan, his brother had always gone clean-shaven.

  “Don’t look at me with pity, Duncan MacLeod. I’m as braw as ever. Let’s get to our wives.” Alex patted his arm and urged him out of the dungeon in front of him.

  They were almost out of the maze-like place when a shout went up from behind him, the voice echoing in the cavernous dungeon.

  “Halt!” The word was close enough to Scottish Gaelic to be recognizable.

  Duncan unsheathed his claymore and ordered his brother behind him. The rush of feet was too close to evade. He had to take care of the problem before the guard could alert more.

  When the Fae guard came into view, Alex laughed.

  He was completely nude. It was the guard Duncan and Xander had knocked unconscious.

  The Fae didn’t even have a weapon.

 
Duncan screamed the MacLeod battle cry and rushed the guard. His pale blue eyes went wide as Duncan knocked him over, and brought the hilt of his sword down on the Fae man’s head.

  He slumped to the stone floor, blood tricking down his forehead.

  “Ye didn’t kill him.” Alex had one dark eyebrow arched when they made eye contact.

  “I canna’ kill an unarmed, naked man, even a Fae guard.”

  “Marriage has made ye soft.”

  Duncan frowned and ignored his brother’s jibe. He whipped the guard’s armor up and off, draping it over his body. “Let’s go join our wives, as ye say.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Claire yelled when the two MacLeod men finally burst through the trees. She rushed to Duncan without acknowledging the man behind him, throwing herself into his arms.

  His mouth took hers.

  She kissed him back without thought or effort.

  Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and Claire fought the lump climbing up her throat.

  She didn’t have much time left with her husband.

  When they parted, she blinked the tears away and snuggled into his chest, hiding her face against him. Didn’t want Duncan to see how much this was tearing her up.

  Our time together is stolen.

  If Bridei had opened both portals at the same time, Claire would’ve already been back in modern-day Skye.

  An end to my adventure, right?

  She gulped, shaking against the man she’d fallen in love with.

  “Well, well. My little brother chose a fine wife.” The voice was very similar to Duncan’s, and the words were wrapped in amusement.

  Claire looked at Alex MacLeod—and gasped. It wasn’t his scruffy appearance, or the princess plastered to his side. He did look a bit rough for wear, but six months in a dungeon would do that.

  But he also looked exactly like her husband. Same height. Same long dark hair. Same blue eyes. Same face, despite the thick beard Alex wore.

  “Twins?”

  Alana looked amused, too.

  “You never thought to mention your brother wasn’t only your brother, but your twin? You said he was older than you.”