Avenged by a Highland Laird (The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Book 4)
Page 1
Story Overview
Laird Bryce MacLeod will do anything to see Scotland’s history saved. Even if it means chasing down Jessie, a twenty-first century lass who might very well be his enemy. What he discovers when he catches her, however, is someone with deep, dark secrets and unanticipated intentions. Hidden truths so remarkable a whirlwind adventure through time begins.
First, they find themselves in league with Angus Óg MacDomhnaill, Lord of the Isles, a noble Scottish captain rumored in some circles to be a pirate. Danger and intrigue abound as they help the Scots capture three English supply ships and deliver their cargo to the Scottish army. As they do and more mysteries are unveiled, attraction ignites and roars to life.
Caught in the throes of newfound passion, they finally join King Robert the Bruce and face off with the English once more at the Battle of Byland Moor. Yet there’s another enemy as well. An evil whose sole purpose is meant to test their hearts in a way neither saw coming. An enemy determined to rip Jessie away from Bryce forever. Will the power of love be strong enough in the end? Or will the curse that threatens Scotland be too much to overcome? Find out in Avenged by a Highland Laird, the epic conclusion of The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning.
Series Overview
The term a new beginning brings to mind many things. Hope and opportunity. A fresh start. For the MacLomains and the rest of Scotland, the year twelve ninety-six meant anything but. Instead, it marked the beginning of a new and oppressed era fraught with two long wars with England. This particular series revolves around the First War of Scottish Independence that took place from twelve ninety-six to thirteen twenty-eight.
Heroes are often lost to time and folklore, especially when magic is involved. The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning shares those mystical tales. Stories about Scottish lairds that came to the aid of Sir William Wallace and King Robert the Bruce. Brave warriors and their lasses who single handedly changed the face of history...or so the story goes.
Best Reading Order
Sworn to a Highland Laird- Book 1
Taken by a Highland Laird- Book 2
Promised to a Highland Laird- Book 3
Avenged by a Highland Laird- Book 4
The Seafaring Rogue- Spin off
Avenged by a Highland Laird
The MacLomain Series
A New Beginning
Book Four
By
Sky Purington
COPYRIGHT © 2018
Avenged by a Highland Laird
Sky Purington
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Edited by Cathy McElhaney
Cover Art by Tara West
Published in the United States of America
Contents
Story Overview
Series Overview
Pronunciations
Introduction
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Coming Soon
Dear Reader Letter
Previous Releases-Best Reading Order
Family Trees
About the Author
Pronunciations
By popular demand, I’ll now be including a glossary of pronunciations for Scottish and Viking names and places that run a little trickier to enunciate. The following names are characters you’ll run across in this particular book.
Aðísla (ah-ue-ee-slah)
Rona (rohn-ah)
Iosbail (ees-uh-bel)
Níðhöggr (neathe-högr or neathe-herd)
If you come across other names or places you’d like to see included when reading my books, shoot me an email because every tale’s pronunciation glossary is a work in progress. I love to hear from readers and consider your feedback valuable. Thanks so much for reading!
Email me anytime at Sky@SkyPurington.com or message me on Facebook.
Introduction
While the MacLomains and their Brouns know they’re facing a curse determined to end Scotland, their true enemy remains a mystery. Is it the warlocks they have been fighting all along? Or could it be Jessie, a Broun lass and supposed friend who seems to have followed them on their adventures? After all, it looks like Jessie might be in league with the very warlocks set to destroy them. What better way to find out the truth then to start back at the beginning with Jessie herself. And so the story goes...
Prologue
Northern Maine
1999
JESSIE SHOT UP IN BED the moment the first flame curled around the bottom of her grandfather’s old, threadbare curtains. It was already too late. There would be no stopping the fire this time.
Her heart pounded as she stumbled out of bed. Where was Mama? Did she know?
“Jessie!” her mother gasped from down the hall. “Help!”
“Keep calm, Jessie,” she whispered to herself over and over again. “Stay strong for Mama. She needs you.”
She always knew this day would come. That the man she called her grandfather would pass out drunk with a cigar and destroy what little they had.
By the time she made it to her bedroom door, fire was spreading quickly, crackling and roaring as it began consuming everything. Though her throat thickened and her nostrils stung, she pushed past fear and followed the sound of her mother’s wracking coughs to the kitchen.
“I’ve got you, Mama.” She had her mother wrap her arm around Jessie’s shoulders for support. “Just hold on and walk the best you can, okay?”
“You need to find your grandfather,” Mama croaked.
Jessie couldn’t help but notice that her mother had said ‘find’ not ‘help.’ No surprise really. He was awful. Evil. Rotten to the core. Nevertheless, once she got her mother to safety, she took a deep breath then headed back into the burning house.
Smoke stung her eyes as she made her way down the hallway past rooms already consumed in flames. As she suspected, her grandfather was passed out on his bed.
“Grandfather,” she yelled, shaking his shoulders. “Wake up! The house is on fire!”
As she choked on ever thickening smoke, she kept trying and trying, but he wouldn’t budge. Was his skin more ashen then usual? His lips blue? She covered her mouth with the top part of her nightshirt, took shallow breaths and pressed two shaky fingers to the pulse point on his neck.
No heartbeat.
He was already dead.
Shocked, she stared at him, bereft of emotion. Was this the fate of such a cruel man? Was this the fate of a man with dark abilities? She swallowed hard as her eyes narrowed on the small ancient looking notebook on his bed stand. There it was. The c
ause of many a nightmare.
That was what her mother thought needed saving.
Why, though, when nothing good ever came of it? Yet even as she recoiled, she felt compelled. As though so much depended on it. So though loathe to touch it, she scooped it up and started to race out of the room, only to stop short. Fire was everywhere. The hallway was engulfed.
There was no way out.
This was it. The end she saw coming. An endless fire that ripped everything away. Fire that had all the control. Terrified, she began screaming. For who though? Her mother certainly couldn’t help her. Nobody could.
“It can’t end like this,” she whispered and shook her head. “I won’t let it.”
She had lived her entire life in fear. All ten years of it. Now she was going to give up? Give in? Let everything fade away before she had a chance to live a life without her grandfather in it? She shook her head, and narrowed her eyes, madder by the moment before she roared, “Let me live!”
Heat seemed to well not only around her but within her as her vision hazed red.
This fire had no control over her.
She controlled it.
Moments later, a strange sensation rolled through her, and a twisting tunnel began to form down the hall all the way to the front door. Free of fire, it was a path of safety created solely for her. She looked from the book to the hallway. Had she manifested it or had the book? Dare she trust this? Because it could easily be some kind of trick left behind by her grandfather.
Either way, it was her only hope, so she had no choice but to risk it.
As she raced forward, it felt as though wind whipped and propelled her out even faster. Coughing, she stumbled down the steps into her mother’s waiting arms.
When she looked back, the house was completely consumed.
“Good girl,” her mother murmured. “You got the book.”
“I did,” she said warily as she tried to hand it to her.
“No.” Her mother shook her head. “You need to open it, Jessie...just in case he put anything more in there.”
She swallowed and shook her head, as a whole new type of fear embraced her. “No, I don’t want to. We should just throw it the fire. Let it burn.”
“That’s the worst thing you can do if he added to it. If he saw through his threat.” Mama’s eyes became very calm as they met Jessie’s. “The fire would only seal it. Nothing could control or stop it after that.”
A shiver raced through her as she whispered, “Well, I can’t control it.”
“You can. You have to. You’re the only one,” her mother said firmly. “Now open the book.”
She had dreaded this thing her entire life. What it could do. The power it had. Yet deep down she knew she had no choice. Too much could be at stake. So, hands trembling, she opened the book, wide-eyed as she realized her mother was right. Her grandfather had seen through his threat.
“Just as I thought,” her mother whispered, staring down at the open page before her damp eyes returned to Jessie’s. “Now you’re Scotland’s only hope.”
Chapter One
North Salem, New Hampshire
October 2017
The Day Jessie First Arrived at the Colonial
SHE LOOKED UP AT THE old oak tree in front of Milly’s new house and realized it might be too late for Scotland. That she had taken on a great deal more than she bargained for all those years ago.
Now here she was, ready to undertake something so much bigger than her. So much more powerful. Or was it? Could she stay one step ahead of what was about to happen to Scotland’s history? Could she continue to influence dark magic with such an evil goal?
“Jessie?” came Milly’s faraway voice. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”
When a hand landed on her shoulder, it ripped her out of the dreamlike place she was in. Startled, she met Milly’s eyes. What was her friend doing here? Moreover, how did Jessie end up here, to begin with? The last thing she remembered she was at her cabin in Maine. In fact, the last thing she recalled, she was battling with herself. She needed to go to Winter Harbor then come here. She needed to see this tree.
After that, everything was a blank.
“I’m sorry,” Milly said softly. “You were really scaring us. Are you okay?” She looked around and frowned. “How did you get here?”
Shocked to realize she had been crying, Jessie quickly resumed her usual expressionless mask, wiped her tears away and shook her head. She kept her voice soft and level. “I’m not sure.” She glanced from the tree to the house before she started walking down the dirt road. “I’m sorry. I have to go home.”
She didn’t bother saying hello to Christina or Jim but continued down the drive in hopes of finding her car. Though she had no recollection of driving here, she must have. Thankfully, she soon spied her Volkswagen Beetle.
“Oh no you don’t,” Milly exclaimed and stepped in front of her. “It’s almost nighttime, and it’s a long drive back, honey. You’re spending the night.”
“I cannot do that.” Jessie’s eyes met hers. “You know I cannot, Milly.”
Her friends knew she rarely if ever left her home. What they didn’t know was why. They assumed Jessie was just anti-social and likely suffered from some sort of well-masked anxiety.
“Of course you can.” Milly steered her back toward the house. “There’s just the four of us here, and you know everyone.”
“Not Jim.” Jessie didn’t look in his direction. “I don’t know Jim, and that’s not good.”
“But you’ve heard lots about him so in a way you do.” Milly kept steering Jessie along.
She didn’t put up a fight because she knew it was pointless. Not only that but she went out of her way to avoid confrontation. As Christina hopped in Jessie’s car and drove it to the house, Milly made introductions. “Jessie this is Jim.” She motioned between them. “Jim, Jessie.”
Jim started to hold out his hand to shake but stopped, obviously aware of Jessie’s aversion to being touched. “Nice to finally meet you, Jessie. I’ve heard a lot of good things.”
“Nice to meet you as well.” Jessie met his eyes, seeing what she knew she would, before she whispered, “I thought so,” then kept walking.
Jim and Milly had dated for years before they became just friends. Though they were apparently in agreement about it, Jessie saw that he had not wanted it to end. At least back then. Now they were both beyond it, and Jim was simply a friend to them all. Well, at least Milly, Christina, and Lindsay.
Milly, it seemed, was destined for another man altogether. Adlin MacLomain. A man intricately involved in Jessie’s past though he had no idea. She suspected Adlin had already contacted Milly, who was a real estate agent, under the pretense of wanting to sell this very house.
Moments later, realizing she was right, she stopped short and turned her eyes Milly’s way. “So you met him then? How did it go?”
Milly frowned. “Met who?”
Jessie was a little shocked Adlin hadn’t been more forthright and couldn’t stop the slight raise of her brows as she touched Milly to understand better.
“Oh, I see,” Jessie said softly. “He likes to play games.”
“I’m not following, sweetie.” Milly shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“You met him right here in this very spot.” Jessie’s eyes stayed with hers. “You’ve met your Scotsman, Milly.”
What she would not share, was his name. That was for Milly to discover on her own.
Jessie allowed them to settle her in a chair a few minutes later and said nothing when they treated her as though she’d been traumatized. Milly made her tea then everyone continued bringing in boxes and unpacking. Though tempted to help them out and say she was okay, Jessie had worked hard to create her persona.
Withdrawn. A recluse. Someone easily shaken.
It had long been a way to keep them safe. To keep Scotland safe. Now her well-laid plans were about to be tested. Her demons were rearing their head
s, ready to set things in motion. Demons she fully intended to turn the tables on.
After all, she had all but birthed these demons.
Jessie patted her pocket, relieved to find her grandfather’s little book there. It would make all the difference with what she intended to do.
When Jim left, and Milly and Christina joined her, they proceeded to discuss Jessie’s bold statement in the driveway. She couldn’t tell Milly much other than the man in the driveway was the man she was eager to meet.
Milly’s eyes narrowed on the picture on his business card then went to Jessie. “We’ve never meddled because we respect your privacy, but I think it might be time you share a bit more about yourself.” She gave her a knowing look. “Because you clearly have...something going on.”
They had no idea.
“No.” Jessie nodded at the picture. “I would say you have something going on.” Her eyes turned to the fire, and she said more than intended. “At least it’s just you for now.”
“What do you mean just Milly for now?” Christina sat in the chair opposite them and sipped wine. “Because that almost sounded like you and I might become involved in whatever this great mystery is you’re keeping from us.”
“You all know I’m different and have accepted me regardless, so you deserve to learn more about me.” Jessie’s eyes went between them. “I have certain abilities. The strongest of them is the ability to sense other people’s emotions.” Her gaze drifted to the fire, and her voice softened. “I suppose the technical term for it would be empath.” Her eyes returned to Milly’s. “I felt your Scotsman’s emotions out in the driveway. How strongly he feels about you. How long he has been waiting for you.”
There was more to her gift. Much more. But now wasn’t the time.