A Highlander's Destiny (Digital Boxed Edition)

by Willa Blair

  “Are you a ghost?” Nessa pressed her clammy hands to her throat. She hadn’t eaten very much today. Could low blood sugar cause hallucinations? She swallowed hard and took a deep breath to try and clear her head. Was she losing her mind? This day just kept getting worse.

  “Oh, nay.” Aveline shook her head, frowning as she toyed with the dials on the dashboard of the car. “When mother appeared to ye…she is a ghost. But I am an immortal. I canna die.”

  Nessa’s blood pounded in her ears. She had hit sensory overload. She covered her face and thought back to the woman at the goddess Brid’s well. “Now wait a minute. The woman in the woods…that was your mother, Rachel?”

  Aveline smiled again in agreement and folded her hands in her lap as she settled against the seat of the car. “Aye, Mother wanted to meet ye. She also pops in from time to time to help people along their way.”

  Her hand to her chest to settle her pounding heart, Nessa struggled to catch her breath. This wasn’t good. She couldn’t breathe. She really needed to calm down. Aveline meant her no harm. Perhaps she could tell her a thing or two. If Nessa passed out from not breathing, she couldn’t ask any questions. She had to breathe. Being an immortal, maybe Aveline could provide some insight as to how Nessa could bring some order into her life. Nessa inhaled a slow, deep breath. Much better. Why not? she decided, and turned to speak with her shimmering guest. “What can you tell me about Latharn MacKay? Any ideas as to why he keeps showing up in my dreams?”

  Aveline’s smile faded to a frown. She stared down at her folded hands. “I canna tell ye much. But I will tell ye this: ye need not ever fear him.”

  Her fears forgotten, Nessa huffed in aggravation and slapped her hands on the steering wheel. “That’s the same thing your mother told me. That and I just needed to look into his heart.”

  Aveline’s pale blonde brows arched in a thoughtful look and she gave a slow nod of agreement. “Mother is right. Look into his heart. Ye will find everything there ye need to know.”

  Nessa banged her fist upon the steering wheel and shook her head. “I don’t know how to look into his heart! I’ve been dreaming about him since I was eighteen years old. I didn’t even know his name until your mother told me a few days ago. If I can’t even figure out his name after ten years, what makes you think I’ll be able to figure out what’s in his heart? And answering questions is my job.”

  As silent giggles shook her shoulders, Aveline smiled and clapped her hands. “What fire! What passion! Trust me, Mistress Nessa, ye will find the way destiny means ye to travel. Ye must be patient and listen with your heart.”

  Nessa turned in the seat and glared at Aveline. “Isn’t there something you can tell me about your brother? Isn’t there anything else I might need to know?”

  Aveline gave a wistful smile as she faded from view. “I am verra sorry. At this time, I can tell ye no more. But know there are many MacKays watching over ye, both in this world and the next.”

  Nessa whacked the steering wheel again as Aveline disappeared. Clenching it in a strangle hold, she grumbled out loud as she started the car. “Fat lot a good all of those MacKays are doing. So far, all they’ve done to help me is told me his name and I shouldn’t be afraid.” She thought she heard the faint sound of ethereal laughter as she squealed her way back onto the road.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Where have you been?” Trish met her in the driveway, yanking open the door before the car rolled to a complete stop.

  “What’s the matter, Mom? Did I break curfew?” Nessa taunted as she gathered her things from the car. The last thing she wanted to hear right now was one of Trish’s lectures about how she should live her life. She wasn’t in the mood. If Trish had any survival instincts at all, she’d back off and leave her alone.

  Trish circled Nessa like a dog herding sheep, stumbling as she walked backward up the steps leading to the porch. “If you were with Gabriel Burns… You’ve got to listen to me. You’ll just end up regretting it. I found out a thing or two about our newfound friend. He’s a worthless piece of—”

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” Nessa interrupted, shooting Trish a meaningful look she knew Trish would never take to heart. “But I went to the Wi-Fi Café to see what the Internet could tell me about the MacKays.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask them?”

  “Not those MacKays.” Nessa shot Trish an impatient look as she slid her laptop on the table in their room. “The history of the MacKay clan and all the legends surrounding them from the 1200s up until present day.”

  “Oh…those MacKays.” Trish shrugged a shoulder. “Well, what did you find out? Anything interesting?”

  Nessa chuckled as she bent to rummage through the tiny fridge. Memories of legends of time-traveling witches, cursed lairds, and Aveline’s sudden appearance ran through her head. From everything she’d discovered today, her dream Highlander had once existed. As she fished her way farther into the depths of the fridge, a shiver of excitement ran up her spine. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Rising with a soda in her hand, she winced as she popped the tab. “By the way, since you mentioned him, I think I also finally got rid of Gabriel Burns. There was just something weird about that guy that set my alarm bells ringing into super squall mode.”

  Trish’s face lit up in complete agreement. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. He’s physically abusive. He tried to strangle Fiona and then Brodie almost killed him.”

  Nessa froze, holding her soda in midair as she stared over the can at Trish. “What? When did this happen? I was only gone a couple of hours.”

  Her eyes growing wider with every word, Trish plopped down in one of the tall wooden chairs and plunged into her tale. “Fiona and Gabriel were engaged to be married. She said he was a control freak but she didn’t know just how cruel he was until he snapped on the night of the wedding rehearsal. She was thirty minutes late because she’d had a flat tire. He took her into the alley and almost killed her for what he considered shaming him in front of his friends.”

  Trish jumped up from her seat, waving her hands in the air. She became more animated with every word. “Brodie came along and pulled him off of her. Nearly killed him from what I understand.”

  “Wow.” Words failed Nessa as she pulled out a chair. So that explained the negativity surrounding Gabriel Burns. A stifling darkness always followed the man. He emitted a coldness that just couldn’t be explained. She sent up a silent thank-you to the fates and heaved a sigh of relief.

  Raising the soda to her lips, she paused, the can midair. Wait a minute. What Trish said didn’t make sense. “Then why isn’t our buddy Gabriel lounging in prison for trying to kill his future wife?”

  “Oh, it gets better.” Trish snorted, plopping back down at the table. “He blackmailed Fiona, saying the only way he wouldn’t charge Brodie with assault was if she kept her mouth shut about his part of the abuse.”

  “What a jackass.” Nessa huffed. Thank goodness she’d avoided the vicious bastard. A shiver of disgust rippled over her body. She thought back over all she’d found on the Internet and her conversation with Aveline. Nessa drummed her fingers on the table and studied Trish’s still-flushed face. She wondered just how open Trish would be if she told her everything she knew.

  She and Trish had been friends for years. She understood Trish’s intense hatred for Gabriel because of his treatment of Fiona and she would bet his abuse of countless other women. Trish had only been twenty years old when she’d been beaten and mutilated by a college acquaintance. That was how she and Nessa had met, their friendship forged by that traumatic event.

  Nessa had decided to take a shortcut back to her apartment that evening long ago. She’d just finished one of her kickboxing classes on campus and was on her way home from the session. She’d heard a muffled shriek come from a darkened outbuilding and had recognized it as a call for help.

  The adrenaline pumping through her veins had made her forget
she was barely five feet tall and on a good day pushed the scale to within a shadow of a hundred pounds. Nessa had kicked her way into the building and followed the sound of the weakening cries. She’d rushed to find Trish cringing in a bloody huddle, her assailant looming over her with an upraised knife. Nessa had grabbed a broken board off the floor, not noticing the jagged roofing nail sticking out of the end. She’d connected the board with the base of the attacker’s skull with all the might her adrenaline fueled.

  The man had died a few days later. He’d never awakened from the coma. There weren’t any charges because Trish had mumbled through a broken jaw that Nessa had saved her life.

  “I really hate it when your eyes glaze over like that, especially when you’re staring at me as though I’m a rare and exotic beast.” Trish banged her soda can on the table in front of Nessa.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking,” Nessa mumbled, tracing her fingertip around the top of her soda can. With an arched brow at Trish, she leaned forward and dropped her voice to an excited whisper. “How would you like to hear something so weird you’re going to think I’ve finally gone over the edge?”

  With a grin, Trish leaned forward to meet Nessa halfway across the table and propped her chin in her hand. “Try me.”

  Nessa took a deep breath and prepared to tell her tale. She spread her hands on the table in front of her. Leaning forward just a bit, she struggled to control the tremble in her voice as she glanced at the door joining their room to the MacKays’ private residence.

  “I met Rachel MacKay in the woods by a spring. Or should I say…I met her ghost, even though I didn’t realize who or what she was at the time.”

  Nessa waited for Trish’s reaction. Nothing. Trish just sat there and stared at her. Nessa frowned. She raised her voice and leaned in closer, her fingertips curled into her palms. Trish would react when she told her the rest of the story. “She told me the Highlander in my dreams is Latharn MacKay and that I should never fear him. I didn’t find out until today that Latharn MacKay is her son.”

  Trish frowned just a bit. She rubbed her chin, tapping her bottom lip as she spoke. “How exactly did you find out that Latharn MacKay is her son if you didn’t know who she was when you were talking to her?”

  Nessa leaned in closer, propping her chin in both hands. She paused to build the suspense, watching Trish’s face. Her friend was taking this information entirely too well.

  “Her immortal daughter, Aveline, told me who she was when she appeared in the car with me on the way home.”

  Trish continued rubbing her chin. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. The ghost of Rachel MacKay appeared to tell you the man in your dreams is her son, Latharn MacKay, but you didn’t know who she was or that he was her son until you talked to…did you say the immortal daughter, Aveline?”

  Nessa struggled against the sly smile tickling at her lips and waited for Trish to demand she quit joking around. Any minute now Trish would explode. She knew Trish would think she was crazy. It was a good thing she’d never had a history of alcohol or Trish would accuse her of tying one on. She gave Trish two thumbs up and a wink as she replied, “I’m impressed. It took me a couple of times to get it figured out but it sounds like you’ve connected the dots the first time around.”

  Nessa leaned back in her seat and waited for what she was positive would be Trish’s traditional reply of, “Bullshit!”

  Trish took a deep breath and stared at her hands as she chewed on her lower lip. “Well what else did Rachel and Aveline tell you?”

  Nessa couldn’t believe it. Why was Trish acting so weird? She wasn’t even reacting! “They both told me even though Latharn is forbidden to speak to me in my dreams, if I’ll look into his heart, I’ll know the truth.” Nessa folded her hands on the table and tilted her head to one side. “Pretty unbelievable, huh? What do you think?” If Trish didn’t give her a reaction pretty soon, she was going to reach across the table and smack her. She wasn’t being any fun at all.

  Trish rubbed her nose. She drummed her fingers on the table. “Oh, hell. I give up. It’s time to tell you.” Trish slammed her hands on the table. “They couldn’t tell you anything else because they were forbidden. If they broke the rules, Latharn’s soul would burn in the eternal abyss. The curse says that any person of MacKay blood or marriage must not help you in your quest.” Trish buried her face in her hands.

  “My quest?” Nessa repeated. She waited for Trish to look her dead in the eye so she could figure out if she was pulling some sort of practical joke. This was not the reaction she’d anticipated from her flamboyant friend. “My quest for what?”

  Trish rose from the table and motioned for Nessa to follow as she headed for the MacKays’ adjoining door. “Follow me and I’ll show you. Since I’m in no way related to the MacKays, I’m pretty sure it’s safe for me to tell you what you need to know.”

  Nessa’s heart fluttered and her mouth went dry. What was Trish talking about? Nessa reminded herself to breathe. She followed Trish into the MacKays’ drawing room. There sat Brodie and Fiona as though they’d been waiting for her arrival. On the table between them sat the violet sphere. The orb bathed the entire room in an eerie light.

  “Have ye told her?” Brodie searched their faces as he rose from his chair.

  “Not yet.” Trish pointed to a chair on the other side of the table and motioned for Nessa to sit. “Latharn MacKay lived in the year 1410 until he was cursed by an evil sorceress from a neighboring clan. It appears he was quite talented at pleasing the ladies but when he didn’t fall in love with the witch, she decided to make him pay.”

  Nessa glanced around the room at the anticipation shining on everyone’s faces. Trish’s words played right along with everything else she’d learned today. Nessa had an uneasy feeling of where Trish might be headed with her tale.

  “And just exactly how did she curse him? Did she send him to some mystical plane where he can only wander through people’s dreams?”

  Trish shook her head. She slid the crystal orb across the table until it was sitting mere inches from Nessa’s face.

  “No. She cursed him into this witch’s ball until such time as the spell is broken.”

  Nessa’s heart pounded up into her throat. She felt the rhythmic beats synchronize with the pulsating light of the orb. Her mouth grew even drier. She lost the ability to breathe as she glanced into the depths of the ball.

  “Latharn’s soul is trapped in there?”

  Trish nodded.

  Nessa remembered all the tales she’d found about the MacKays’ loves and their losses. Hands pressed against her cheeks, Nessa’s heart swelled in her chest, sympathizing for Latharn’s pain. As she realized all Latharn must have witnessed, everything he knew and loved torn away. Nessa’s throat ached with unshed tears. She couldn’t imagine the misery he’d suffered, trapped in the crystal as he watched his world die away.

  She splayed her fingers on either side of the globe. Nessa drew her face even closer to the swirling surface.

  “Oh, Latharn, I’m so very sorry,” she whispered. Nessa’s heart clenched with the sorrow he must have known. She couldn’t imagine her gentle Highlander trapped inside the tiny glass tomb for nearly six hundred years. Her eyes overflowed with tears of compassion; she didn’t bother to wipe them away. She just watched as they rolled down the surface of the shimmering witch’s ball.

  “Latharn, you’ve taken such good care of me all these years. You’ve made me what I am today.” Her tears came faster. Nessa closed her eyes. Her lips trembled as she whispered, “I want you to know I’ve always loved you and I’d give anything to be able to set you free.”

  As soon as the words fell from her trembling lips, thunder and lightning split through the room. Wild energy spun around in a cyclone of blinding light, ripping everything from the shelves. Furniture crashed against the walls as chairs and tables lifted off the floor. Nessa dove under the table, joined by Trish and the MacKays. They shielded their heads with their arms and
whatever cushions they could grab. Then all went silent. The storm died just as soon as it had risen. Not an object in the room was untouched by the fierce energy that had ripped through the house.

  Nessa remained motionless under the table, afraid something would fall on her head. She just knew the building must be about ready to collapse from the violent attack it had just endured. Strong hands closed around her arms, and lifted her from the rubble. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into a set of deep green eyes she’d only seen before in her dreams.

  As he tenderly stroked the curve of her cheek, Latharn groaned with satisfaction. “’Tis about time ye said the words for me, lass. I’d begun to think I’d never be free of that hell.”

  Nessa’s jaw dropped to her chest, her lips moved but no words came out. Speechless, she stared up into his face. She’d never imagined how his voice would sound. His deep Scot’s burr, the way his words rolled off his tongue—the sound set fire to her blood. The richness of his voice stroked her body, making her ache for more. Running her fingertips across the stubbled whiskers of his jaw, Nessa finally whispered, “It’s really you.”

  Latharn lowered his mouth to hers. He savored his first true taste of her lips. When her trembling hands slid up his chest, his heart swelled to near bursting. He deepened his kiss of possession. He tightened his embrace. He’d waited for this moment for centuries. To hold her, the one woman he ever loved, to feel her breathless against his chest.

  The one way he’d maintained his sanity all these years was by searching for her with his mind. He’d used his powers. He’d traveled the mists until he’d finally located her soul in the energy of eternity. Once she was born, he’d waited for her to become a woman so he could be with her in her dreams. He’d watched Nessa since her soul first came into being now at last, he held her in his arms.

  Latharn raised his head and smiled down into her eyes. “I’ve waited for centuries to hold ye like this. Now that I have ye, I’ll never let you go.”