* * * * *
Marcas Mackenzie had watched the black-haired beauty for some time. She paced back and forth at the edge of his enemy’s camp. When she ventured near his hiding spot among the trees, he made his move.
And Kirk never saw me steal his prize.
Grabbing Kirkwall Gunn’s whore, while in close proximity to Lady Fia’s home, sent a thrill racing down his spine. A triumphant smile pulled at his dry lips soon to be quenched with a toast to his single-handed victory.
With one arm locked around her waist, he tugged the wench deeper into the quiet shadows of the forest. He’d been locked in a heated debate with another comely wench.
Even with his spy in Kirk’s camp, Mackenzie had opted to conduct the kidnapping in person. Soon, if God willed it, Lady Fia’s betrothed would lie dead and his men would celebrate. Kirk deserved to die. He had slaughtered many of his warriors, leaving him but a handful to accompany him to Castle Ruadh.
Such hatred for the Gunn laird made his fingers ache to slice the woman’s throat. It would make no sense to leave her alive to tell tales, especially after he killed Kirkwall Gunn. Yet, thoughts of Lady Fia rose, enflaming his lust while cooling his rage. She would not be happy if he harmed an innocent woman.
“Ye put me in a quandary, lass. Killing ye would hurt Kirk, but my beloved might not approve. God’s teeth! She has turned my life upside down.”
“Why don’t you go be with her?” his captive murmured beneath her covering.
“Quiet. I am thinking.”
“About time.”
Her surly comeback quickened his steps and tightened his grip. “Ye thought to leave me far behind, wench. We have followed ye since I buried the men yer lover murdered.”
“My what?” Her muffled surprise came through clear as day.
“Ye heard me. I saw ye kissing him beside the river and in the woods. I heard moans of pleasure from yer tent.”
She wrenched sideways, but he held her tight. Lifting her over a downed log, he listened to a slew of what might have been curses. Hard to tell.
“Quiet. I will not have yer lover aware his prize has left the nest until the trap is set.”
“A trap? Please don’t hurt him. I hardly know the guy. I met him the day I stumbled into your camp and—”
“The day ye ran from me? The day my warriors died?”
“I was lost and he came to my aid. Instead of offering to help a stranded woman, you threatened me. Your men chased me. They shot arrows at me!”
“And they missed. Under my orders, I might add. I wanted no harm to come to ye, my sweet. Ye appeared in our midst as a tasty morsel for men too long denied a fine meal. Then that murderous bastard galloped to yer rescue.” He clasped her waist tighter and continued to pull her through the trees. She struggled more, but could not wriggle out of his embrace.
“Kirk and his men saved me, but I don’t know them. I accepted their hospitality. I swear. We planned to separate and go our own way once we got to Castle Ruadh.”
“Neither Kirk, his warriors, or his wagons will get close to Castle Ruadh. This I have sworn. Since the laird took a shine to ye, now ye become the bait. My informant has been quite clear on this.”
“Informant? There’s a spy in Kirk’s camp? Who would work for scum like you?”
* * * * *
Haven bit her tongue to keep from uttering more words to incite her kidnapper. And who in Kirk’s camp was a spy?
“Many a man or woman can be bought for a few coins.” Mackenzie paused. “Or other favors.”
She read his meaning, loud and clear. The man oozed sexual charisma.
“Though my beloved lies trapped behind the gates of Castle Ruadh, I have faith we shall be together, soon.” When he pulled the hood off, Haven gulped mouthfuls of fresh air. She pushed away from his chest accompanied by a ripping noise. Cool air nipped at the bare skin of her breasts. He’d torn her dress.
She shrieked.
“Quiet, or die where ye stand.” He pulled her into his chest and slapped a gloved hand across her mouth, then smiled.
Fear quieted her momentarily.
“Ignore that order. Scream all ye want, woman. Kirk’s camp is far behind. Thick trees thwart any sounds. My warriors await, and have no idea I bring them a treat. Please, scream. Fuel their lust.”
“You bastard,” she said, then sobbed. Haven yanked her clothing, attempting to cover her nakedness. Her mind swam as she thought of a way out of this mess.
He chuckled. “Yer lover will come for ye once the trap is set. The wedding between Lady Fia and that bastard will not take place and then she shall be mine.”
“I don’t understand. Whose wedding?”
His laugh jerked her off balance. When he loosened his grip, she struggled to keep from stumbling to her knees. The fragrant scent of pine, mixed with smoke, told her they’d arrived at Mackenzie’s camp.
Haven wiped away hot tears with the back of her hand. Enough moonlight peeked through the trees to highlight her captor’s profile. With his lips curled into a sinister sneer, he dragged her farther and farther from the man she loved.
I love Kirk. Damnation.
She’d traveled through time, fallen in love, and now might die. Or, worse.
When his grasp around her wrist tightened, she dug her heels into the ground. He’d put his knife away and she felt confident she could break his grip, lift her skirts, and run. As she pulled, she remembered his statement about a woman named Fia marrying…
“Oh, no. She’s marrying Kirk?” Before he answered, she knew the truth. Kirkwall and the treasure were on their way to meet his bride. She’d ignored the signs. He’d kept the truth from her. He’d almost made love to her, while on his way to be married. As if her kidnapper’s dirk had stabbed her heart, pain flooded her chest and Haven fought for breath.
How could I have been so naïve?
Kirk had never professed his love, but he had pursued her as if she was the only woman in his world. His tantalizing caresses, sweet words, and intoxicating kisses convinced her she was falling in love.
Romantic pangs instantly turned to rage. Haven dug her fingernails into both palms, stumbled, then yanked against her kidnapper’s hold.
I have to get free, find Kirk, and kill him.
How could he do this to her? Again, she’d lost her heart to a jerk. A sudden sinking feeling came to an abrupt end when she imagined Kirk’s face. He had never forced her to love him. Actually, he’d held back from full intimacy. She’d felt the evidence of his arousal, often, yet he stopped at kissing and touching.
Haven turned her thoughts to her current predicament. Mackenzie had snatched her from camp with ease. Would anyone care? Or, would they think she’d decided to leave early? After Kirk’s less than gentle actions beside the wagon, in full view of so many people, who would blame her? She’d bet ten-to-one odds everyone knew the big secret at Castle Ruadh. “Except stupid little me.”
“Stop mumbling. Stay on yer feet or I’ll drag ye by the hair.”
She no longer cared if he pulled out his dirk and sliced her throat. Stuck in this time, without Kirk to return her love, she might as well lay down and die.
Would Reid miss her? He, alone, knew the tribulations she’d endured. He, alone, knew she wasn’t from this time or place. Would he expect her to disappear without a word? What about the spy?
Gavina’s poisonous gossip and half-truths came to mind. The jealous young woman thwarted their relationship at every turn. Gavina wanted Kirk for herself, but would she risk his life? Mackenzie expected Kirk to try to rescue her.
He might die. Gavina wouldn’t risk Kirk.
Yanked into a clearing, Haven stumbled and fell into a heap beside a small campfire. The heat licked at her naked calves. Smoke irritated her eyes. Mackenzie laughed when she clutched at her clothing, attempting to cover her breasts.
Leaves rustled, tethered horses whinnied, and voices rose. Surrounded by warriors, she caught snatches of murmured threats and several disgusting plans f
or her, after Kirk arrived.
All except Mackenzie.
He stood to the side, a wistful look on his face as he glanced in the direction they all traveled; toward Castle Ruadh, and Lady Fia.
Two men grabbed her and held her down. She screamed. The exhilaration of being able to warn the camp made her smile until one of the men kicked her in the side. “You said I could scream.”
“Let her go. They can’t hear her. When I am ready to set the trap, we shall haul her closer to Kirk.”
She rubbed her bruised ribs as she looked around, then glanced back in the direction of Kirk’s camp. The forest looked impenetrable. Her scream probably traveled no farther than the closest bird’s nest. How would Kirk hear her warning?
A sudden dizziness made her stomach lurch. She should’ve eaten some dinner, then remembered the blood trickling down her throat. Crushing her arms to her chest, a thought popped into her head. The ancient text she’d discovered in her aunt’s herbal shop had pages of odd little incantations.
Each one said it was natural to use nature to aid a person in need. One group of words she remembered quite well. Was this the type of incident to which the book referred?
What have I to lose?
Turning her head away from her kidnappers, she uttered the memorized words and hoped they worked.
Breath of hope, oh monstrous breeze.
Open a path among the trees.
Hear my plea, so mote it be!
Before she could repeat the words, Mackenzie stormed closer. Had he heard? Haven screamed at the top of her lungs.
As he raised his hand to strike her across the face, branches above them snapped and waved. Mackenzie stayed his hand, turned, and drew his broadsword.
“Spread out.”
His men obeyed.
* * * * *
“I tell ye, my laird, ‘twas a scream. A woman’s scream.”
Kirk questioned the guard at length after the stricken-faced man had raced into camp. The sentry swore no animal could make such a sound. He believed him. His clansmen were wary hunters, worthy of his trust.
“My laird, ignore his hysterical words. We are within the boundaries of Castle Ruadh. The Keiths are barbarians,” Gavina chimed in, smiling up at him. Several men grunted in agreement.
“My men are to investigate all noises too close to our camp.”
“What this man heard might simply be two young lovers, rutting. Screams are part of such pleasures, aye?”
“Return to yer duties, woman.”
When she hesitated, Anice grabbed Gavina’s arm and hauled her away. As each warrior gathered weapons, Kirk scanned the confines of their camp. Something felt wrong.
“Where is Lady Haven?” The moment the words left his mouth, his body snapped to attention and he ran to her tent. Empty.
Something terrible had happened. He could feel it in his bones. Kirk shouted several commands and his men searched every corner of the camp while he marched to his tent.
Once inside, he stripped naked to the waist, grabbed his broadsword, and slipped his dirk inside his belt. Reid appeared at his side. He ordered the lad to collect his hunting bow. Kirk listened to the cries of his men as they called out Haven’s name. His eyes clamped shut when she did not answer them. No matter how deep her hatred toward him had grown, would she have left the safety of the camp?
“She is gone, and not willingly,” Reid whispered inside the dark tent.
Kirk’s eyes snapped open. “Aye.”
Without waiting for his men, Kirk crept through the trees and past the last place Haven had stood. If Gavina had not waylaid him, Haven would still be safe. Scanning the darkness, Kirk listened. A high-pitched scream rang out, echoing throughout the forest.
He froze.
“There it goes again, my laird.” The sentry who had reported the first scream knelt at Kirk’s elbow, pointing.
“Lady Haven.”
Kirk listened again while a slight breeze grew into a powerful rush of air. The trees bent apart with an ever-increasing roar as limbs clacked against other branches. Leaves rustled and an owl screeched. A shaft of moonlight pierced the darkness, revealing a trail. Someone’s feet had scuffed the ground, as if dragged.
“This wind blows with an eerie breath, my laird. ‘Tis unreal.”
Kirk grunted in agreement. He reached down and wiped his fingers in a small puddle of dark red ooze. When he brought his fingers to his nose, his stomach roiled. Fear wrapped his body in a tight fist when he smelled the metallic tang of fresh blood.
Her blood.
“Make haste.” Muffled footsteps announced that the rest of his warriors approached. Who had grabbed her? His worst fears would come to life if Mackenzie had a hand in her abduction. The likelihood of a trap came to mind. The man had once used Cora as a lure.
Back then, Kirk had placed a spy in Mackenzie’s camp who had warned him of the bastard’s plans. Kirk’s warriors had attacked first and won the battle, but not before beautiful Cora lay dead.
Mackenzie harbored a deep animosity, yet Kirk had been the one injured. His heart lay broken, his face disfigured, and his future had looked bleak.
Until I met Haven.
Kirk raised a fist, signaling his men to stop. Another hand sign, relayed to several men at the back of the contingent, ordered them to return to camp.
“If this be a trap, perhaps the treasure wagons are the real prize. Not the woman. Why kidnap a plain-dressed wench? She has no money, no rank, and no connections. She has no value.”
Except to me.
* * * * *
Haven’s head ached and her throat burned. She awakened bit by pain-wracked bit, then recalled the horror of her abduction. Captured by Cal’s lookalike, the man had threatened to throw her to his men. Before she slipped into unconsciousness, her words from the ancient text and subsequent screams had thwarted their plans.
Mackenzie had shoved her into the dirt as the treetops bent under a gust of unearthly wind. She’d uttered words that seemed to cause the trees to spread apart, allowing her screams to travel far. When she had tried to scream again, someone knocked her on the head with the hilt of a sword.
Mortal danger lay in wait because of her. Kirk’s desire for her had been evident to his clansmen and to whoever spied on the camp.
If any harm comes to that pig-headed, muscle-bound, two-timing Kirk, I’ll never forgive these bastards.
Or, herself.
The news of his pending nuptials cut her like Mackenzie’s blade, and the memory made her groan.
“She awakens, my lord.”
Why pretend to sleep? She had to warn Kirk. Especially since she sensed he travelled closer. She snapped her eyes open and screamed an ear-splitting shriek from her gut. A hand clamped around her mouth.
Pinned to the ground, unable to scream, in an unknown forest with men she most assuredly would never want to meet in a dark alley, she struggled. They dragged her to the far side of the camp then pushed her back down. The campfire spit when a man doused it with the contents of a water skin. The sudden, total darkness concealed whether the trees were still parted. She felt the breeze against her skin, and smelled the stink of fearful men.
“What is yer name, wench? How did ye come to be the mistress of Kirkwall Gunn?” A man’s hot breath danced along her skin, below her right ear. Haven clutched her tattered dress tight to her chest before answering.
“How many times must I tell you? I am no man’s mistress. Let me go. I’m no good as bait. Kirk couldn’t care less about what happens to me.”
“I find these words hard to believe,” Mackenzie whispered in the dark. His scent was more pleasant than his men and reminded her of smoke, spice, and leather.
“Let me up.”
“Not until ye tell the truth. Your name!”
“He shoved me against a wagon only a few hours ago and I’ve the bruises to show for it. He detests me and the danger I’ve brought his men. My name’s Haven MacKay.”
“Ha! A Gunn wo
uld never keep a MacKay in his camp unless it be strung from a tent pole.”
She slumped back and quit her attempts to sit up. All movement made her dizzy. Mackenzie knelt so close, he could easily choke her into unconsciousness. Or, he might slash her in two with his sword. She had to bide her time. Kirk would save her.
When Mackenzie got to his feet, slithered away, and issued orders she eavesdropped. Nothing made sense. It sounded like he wanted Kirk to find them. Footsteps took off into the dark in several directions. Groping hands bound her own hands in front and then a prickling sensation passed over her nipples. She rolled to her side, away from the foul stench of a mercenary. A cool breeze proved her dress’s bodice lay open to the weather. Had they touched her while she’d lay helpless?
Would Kirk care if they had?
“Kirk doesn’t care about me.”
“Should yer words ring true, I will let ye go.” Mackenzie crouched beside her once more.
“You lie.”
“Believe what ye will. All I want is for Kirkwall Gunn to die.”
“What has he done to fill you with such hatred?” She squirmed on the hard ground. She sensed him draw closer and she pulled at her bonds.
“I explained. With his death, my love will be free to marry me.”
She let the words sink in while his men muttered nearby.
“The night grows cool,” Cal’s evil lookalike droned. Gloved fingers slithered over her hip as she tried to scoot away. He circled close to her breast. She tensed, disgusted.
His laughter reverberated across the small clearing.
She had to act with one purpose in mind—to make these bastards think she had no interest in fleeing or doing them harm. A sharp pain pressing into her hip kept her from rolling further. If she could sit up, she might find a way to slip her dagger out.
Let him think I’ll submit. I still have my knife.
A gloved hand stroked her head, and her shoulders tensed. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her to her feet and into the moonlight. She couldn’t reach her dagger.
* * * * *
Kirk peered through shadows at the scene unfolding on the other side of thick brambles. Neck muscles tensed while both fists clenched his weapons. A man clad all in black stood too close to Haven. With his back to him, the beast had forced his woman to her feet by the hair.
10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 150
