Heart Of A Highland Warrior

by Anita Clenney

  “It was walking with…purpose,” she said. “So I followed it.”

  “Probably looking for a mouse,” Faelan said.

  Bree looked at the coffin. “It led me to this grave. It was here a minute ago. I think it left when you showed up.”

  “Smart cat,” Ronan muttered.

  “This is the second grave opened near the house,” Bree said. “I think it must be a Civil…someone looking for treasure.”

  Faelan shook his head. “In the same spot where my time vault was buried?”

  “The same spot?” Ronan looked at the open field, bordered by trees. “You’re right. I didn’t notice before.”

  Neither had Bree. Faelan had shown them roughly where he had encountered Druan and the other ancient demons—Malek, Voltar, and Tristol—before Druan trapped Faelan in the time vault.

  “Aye.” Faelan crossed his arms over his chest and gathered his face into a spectacular frown. “Too much of a coincidence for me.”

  “Bloody odd,” Ronan agreed.

  “Maybe someone thought it was senseless to waste a perfectly good hole,” Bree said. The Civil War had started not long after Faelan’s time vault was buried. It was possible that a soldier had been buried there after the time vault was moved to the crypt.

  Faelan squatted, kilt dangling between his knees. “The grave wasn’t open when we left for Virginia to help Cody. So who dug it up?”

  “Maybe it was the cat,” Ronan said, rolling his eyes.

  Bree shook her head. “No, the cat wasn’t here then. It was in Virginia.”

  “Are you serious?” Ronan asked, and then said to Faelan, “I think your wife’s losing it.”

  Of course he was joking. But still…“Cats can dig,” she said lamely. Especially big, mysterious cats with hypnotic green eyes.

  Faelan scoffed. “If that cat’s digging up graves, it’s time to find him a new home.”

  “Maybe Anna found the grave,” Bree said.

  “How would she have known this grave was here?” Faelan asked.

  “Maybe she discovered something in Angus’s notes,” Bree said. “He was sent here to look for Faelan’s time vault key. He could have made some note about this spot.”

  “Anna hadn’t found his notes when I talked to her a couple of days ago,” Ronan said.

  “She could have found them later. I’m surprised she hasn’t come back,” Bree said. “She left all her stuff.”

  “At your house?” Ronan asked.

  Bree nodded. “Her clothes and her boots. Even her purse.”

  “She left her boots?” A frown started along his forehead. “She always wears boots.”

  “Maybe she brought another pair,” Bree suggested. A demon hunter would need more than one pair of boots. Certainly one as good as Anna. “Although I don’t know why she’d leave her purse.”

  “Can’t see any female doing that,” Faelan said.

  “Her wallet’s still inside?” Ronan asked.

  “I didn’t check.”

  “We should.”

  “You’re worried about her?” It suddenly occurred to Bree what a great couple Ronan and Anna would make. They were both gorgeous, and despite Ronan’s reputation, Bree had never seen him with anyone. The same went for Anna. She didn’t even flirt, unlike Sorcha, who tormented Duncan with her blatant come-ons to any hot guy who happened to be around, which was often, since all the warriors were hot for the most part. Beauty was part of a warrior’s armor. Demons were distracted by beauty like women were distracted by diamonds. In some way, Bree supposed it made sense. Distract the demon with your looks, and then catch him—or her—off guard and bam him with your warrior powers. Strength, speed, strong senses.

  “Why would she leave her boots and her purse? You’re giving me that look,” Ronan said.

  “What look?”

  “The one that makes me feel like you’re inside my head.”

  “Just wondering if you miss Anna.”

  “Miss her?” Ronan asked.

  “She’s beautiful,” Bree said. “Not married.”

  “She is a beauty,” Ronan agreed, and Faelan nodded in agreement.

  Bree frowned at him. She didn’t need Faelan noticing how beautiful Anna was.

  “Are you playing matchmaker?” Ronan asked.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who feels it’s her duty to marry off everyone around her.”

  “No. It’s just that Anna’s beautiful and you’re…handsome.” That drew a scowl from Faelan.

  “I respect Anna. I don’t have a thing for her,” Ronan said, but he looked uncomfortable.

  “Maybe she’s not your destined mate, but I don’t think that stops you from…playing,” Bree said.

  Something suspiciously similar to guilt quickly crossed his face. Was she on to something? Or was he just thinking of his reputation as a player?

  “Anna doesn’t play.”

  Then why did he look guilty? “Why not?”

  “Bad history. She won’t talk about it.”

  “How do you know then?” Faelan asked, giving Ronan an interested stare.

  Ronan’s cheeks darkened. Bree had never seen him blush. “She mentioned it…once.”

  Bree would like to know the circumstances of the once, but from what she could tell, Ronan didn’t kiss and tell. The other warriors were happy to spread the gossip for him. “She doesn’t date or anything?”

  “Not that I’ve seen. She says she’ll be a warrior forever.”

  Faelan looked puzzled. “I can’t believe a woman would never want a husband and a family. I suppose looks like hers usually means an easy road or a hard one.”

  “How do you mean?” Bree asked.

  “Beauty can open doors, but it can also bring unwanted attention. Make things damned awkward,” he said.

  Bree tilted her head and gave him a smile. “Are you speaking from experience, my beautiful man?”

  Ronan laughed and punched Faelan on the arm. “You mean Agnes?”

  “Angus?” Bree frowned. “What’s Angus got to do with it?”

  “Not Angus,” Ronan said. “Agnes.”

  “Who’s Agnes?” Bree asked.

  Now Faelan was the one who looked uncomfortable.

  Ronan smiled. “He didn’t tell you about sweet Agnes, one of his loves?”

  “You told Ronan and didn’t tell me?” Bree knew they were close, but she was his wife.

  “She wasn’t a love,” Faelan said, tossing Ronan a hateful look. “Just an irritating lass who thought she was in love with me.”

  “Why tell Ronan and not me?”

  “I was telling him about the first demon I killed, and Agnes was there. The stupid girl had gotten lost, and when Tavis and I went to find her, we were attacked by a demon.”

  “You told me about the demon,” Bree said, “but you didn’t mention a girl.” Faelan had been just sixteen, he’d told her, much too young to kill a full demon. The whole clan had been stunned. Then Kieran, one of the best trainers, offered to train him early. That was the beginning of the legend that would become the Mighty Faelan.

  Bree suspected the legend had started earlier, after his little brother Liam was killed by a demon in front of Faelan and another brother, Tavis. She knew Faelan well enough that she was almost certain he hadn’t been the same since the day Liam died because he was still haunted by the incident, still haunted by the demon. Bree also knew enough about human nature to know that the responsibility he felt for the clan, for her, for the world, was in some way an effort to make up for not saving Liam.

  That was one reason she wasn’t harder on him when he became too protective. She would think about the seven-year-old boy who believed it was his fault that his baby brother died. That made her want to wrap her arms around hi
m and take the weight from his shoulders for a while. Then there were times when she wasn’t so understanding. When she just wanted to scream at him to wake up and realize he couldn’t change the past, that he couldn’t protect her and the world every waking minute just because he believed he hadn’t saved Liam or stopped the Civil War. Her sweet, sweet, chauvinistic, chivalrous alpha man. How would she ever make him forget all the pain he’d suffered?

  “I wish I’d never told anybody about the bloody lass,” Faelan muttered. “Can we figure out who this poor blighter is that’s been dumped in a hole without even a marker?” He jumped down inside the grave.

  “Should we call the police?” Bree asked.

  “Not until we have a look,” Faelan said, examining the wooden coffin. “First I want to know who used the place where my time vault was buried.”

  “I’ll come down and help you open it,” Bree said.

  “No, you won’t,” Faelan said. “Don’t even think about coming down here.” A good solid glare showed her he was serious. “Ronan, keep her up there.”

  Ronan grinned and whispered, “If we hurry, we can sneak away before he climbs out of the hole.”

  “And I’ll chop you up into little pieces,” Faelan’s muffled voice said.

  “You need to get over yourself,” Ronan said. “Move over. I’m coming down.” He jumped down beside Faelan and studied the grave. “It’s not every day you see a wooden coffin. Well, I guess you did, since you’re so old.”

  Bree moved closer to the hole. Half her foot was over the edge. “The wood is rotten. It’s certainly old.”

  “It can’t be older than Faelan,” Ronan said, examining the lid. “Not if this is the hole his time vault was buried in. Let’s open the coffin and find out who’s inside.”

  “Looks like someone already tried to open it,” Faelan said. The lid creaked as they pushed it aside. Both of them went still, hunched over the coffin.

  “Who’s in there?” Bree asked. Faelan and Ronan’s shoulders were blocking her view.

  “He’s wearing a kilt,” Faelan said, his voice hushed.

  “A kilt?” Bree moved around until she could see. The body was just a skeleton, with bits of shrunken flesh and scraps of clothing attached to some of the bones. The shirt had been light colored at one time, and the kilt primarily red. “I wasn’t expecting a kilt.” She looked at Faelan’s kilt and light shirt and felt a chill. So much for the farmer or soldier theory. “Can you tell from the kilt how old he might be?”

  “You’re the historian,” Faelan said.

  She studied history. He’d lived it. “Oh, this might help. I found something underneath the coffin.”

  Faelan glared up at her. “Under the coffin? Did you climb inside this grave?”

  Ronan grunted and shook his head.

  Bree lifted one shoulder. “Sort of.”

  “Sort of!” Faelan said. “How do you sort of climb into a grave? You’re pregnant, carrying my bairn, and you climbed into a grave!”

  “Good grief. It’s not even that deep. I’ve been in much worse places than this.”

  “We know,” both men said at the same time.

  This was one of those times she wanted to hit Faelan. And Ronan too. Instead, she pulled the dagger from her waistband and held it up. “Magnificent, isn’t it?”

  Ronan took the dagger from her. He hadn’t examined it before. He’d been too busy pulling her out of the grave. “Looks old.”

  “I figure it’s eighteenth century,” she said. “Maybe seventeenth.”

  “Eighteenth,” Faelan said, his voice just above a whisper.

  “That’s pretty impressive,” Bree said. Then she saw he was staring at the dagger, his face ashen. “Are you OK?”

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Ronan said.

  “I’ve seen this dagger before.” Faelan reached for it with trembling hands. “It was my brother’s.”

  Bree’s eyes widened. “Your brother’s?”

  “It belonged to Tavis. I gave it to him for his birthday.” Faelan looked back at the bones in the coffin. “I think you’ve found my brother’s grave.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  WE’LL GIVE HIM a real burial,” Ronan said to Faelan. Several of the warriors had met at the Albany castle to discuss the grave. The elders were in another part of the castle meeting about the same thing. The entire clan was disturbed by the discovery of the grave, but Faelan was taking it particularly hard. He’d already lost Tavis once. Lost his whole family. Now he had to deal with his brother’s death all over again. That must suck. Ronan could sympathize. It had taken him a long time to get over Cam’s death, if he had. He couldn’t imagine having to face it all over again.

  “Shouldn’t we check DNA?” Cody asked. “Sam might be able to pull some strings and get it done quicker.”

  Cody’s friend Samantha Skye was with the FBI. She sometimes helped the clan cover up activities that couldn’t be explained by normal means. She complained that she risked losing her job, but they all knew she loved the danger and excitement. And she had the hots for Jamie, Shay’s ex-fiancé, which made Cody happy since he was still jealous of the warrior who had almost married Shay. He watched his bride-to-be like the crown jewels in a den of thieves. Especially when Jamie and Ronan were around.

  “It has to be Tavis,” Faelan said. “It’s his dagger, and the kilt was the right color. We know he was here. He helped dig up my time vault and move it.”

  “Why does everyone think he was buried at sea?” Shay asked.

  Ronan felt Declan move behind him. He didn’t even have to see his twin to know he was there. “Probably a cover story,” Declan said. “They wouldn’t want his grave connected to Faelan’s hiding place.”

  Faelan nodded, and his hand found Bree’s. “We’ll have the funeral and put Tavis to rest.”

  Bree leaned closer and put her other hand on his chest. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she started sliding off the couch.

  Ronan shot forward, but Faelan had already caught her before she hit the floor. “Bree! What’s wrong? Is it the bairn?” Faelan held her close, his face pale. “Get Tomas. Someone get Tomas.”

  “He’s not here,” Marcas said. “I’ll find Coira.”

  Shay knelt beside her sister. “Her pulse is strong. I think she’s had one of her visions. Bree, can you hear me?”

  “She did get that distant look on her face.” Faelan’s voice was hopeful. He was terrified of losing the baby. And Bree. Like he’d lost everyone from his life before. Ronan was doing everything he could to see that Bree and the baby remained safe.

  “These spells affect her more now that she’s pregnant,” Sorcha said, her tone edgy. “It can’t be healthy for the baby.”

  She wasn’t even flirting with Lachlan, who sat next to her. Of course Duncan wasn’t here to witness her show.

  “What do you want me to bloody do about it?” Faelan asked, scowling.

  Ronan shook his head at Sorcha. “You’re good with a sword, Sorcha, but you don’t have crap for tact.”

  Brodie scoffed. “Sometimes I wish I lived back in Faelan’s day, when we didn’t have to deal with female warriors.”

  “I can fix it so you don’t have to deal with a female anything,” Sorcha sneered.

  “Back off, Sorcha,” Ronan said. “Go yell at Duncan.”

  “That’s her problem,” Brodie muttered. “Duncan’s not here, so we’re taking the brunt of her bitchiness. I wish they’d just jump in the sack and get it over with so the rest of us could live in peace.”

  Sorcha’s face turned red. She clonked Brodie on the shoulder and left.

  “Now what’s this?” Coira asked, entering the room as Sorcha swept out. “Marcas said Bree fainted.”

  “We think she had a vision,” Shay said.

  “Or it’s the bairn,” Faelan added, st
roking Bree’s cheek.

  Before Coira could reach her, Bree gasped and bolted upright. “Anna.” She tried to stand, but Faelan held her still.

  “Don’t stand up,” he said. “You might fall.”

  “He’s right,” Coira said. “You need to sit still.” She checked Bree’s pulse.

  “I’m not going to fall. I just had a vision. Anna’s in trouble.”

  “Do you know where she is?” Ronan asked. He’d been the last to talk to her.

  Bree put one hand protectively over her stomach, something she did unconsciously these days. “I think she’s in a castle.”

  “Scotland?” Shay asked.

  “She didn’t mention going to Scotland when I talked to her,” Ronan said. “She’d just gotten back from there.” The clan had two castles. The Connor castle in Scotland, the clan seat, and this one near Albany, New York, which Druan had used. They were still trying to find out how the demon had a castle that was identical to the clan’s.

  “Jamie called Scotland earlier,” Declan said. “She wasn’t there.”

  Cody’s arm slipped around Shay’s shoulder. “Where is Jamie?”

  “Had something to do,” Declan said. “He’ll be back.”

  “Huh,” Cody replied.

  Shane stood several feet away, quietly observing as usual. “We should check the secret passages here and in Scotland. I’ll take a look at these. Niall can help.”

  “Me? You know I hate those damned passages,” Niall said. “They’re made for dwarves.”

  “I thought it was fairies,” Shane said. “Stop complaining and come on.”