Only Alec hadn’t taken two strides when he was slammed from behind. “No, don’t hurt him!” he heard Jane shout as he went down. “His ribs are sore! Father, make them stop! He didn’t know! Alec, stop!” she cried when Alec sprang to his feet, managing to land another blow to Mac’s jaw before ducking his shoulder to rush the other stranger with enough force to send him staggering into Duncan.
Alec went after Jane again as her captor mounted his horse, her struggles nearly making them fall. “Let her g—”
Titus cut him off by slamming his horse into Alec at the same time Duncan tackled him from behind. “Dammit, cut it out!” Duncan shouted as Alec went down again—thanks to Mac and the other man’s added momentum.
“Don’t hurt him!” Jane screamed. “Father, make them stop!”
“Enough, Maximilian,” Titus said calmly. “We have what we came for; leave him to Trace and Duncan.”
Being a dutiful son, Mac pushed himself to his knees by giving a hard shove to Alec’s ribs, and the last thing Alec saw was the wizard’s bloody mouth twisted in a feral grin just as an oversize fist slammed into his face.
Alec woke up feeling like he’d been run over by a goddamn bus, and kept perfectly still as he thought about how not well things had ended. He supposed it was nice he was still alive, but every one of his muscles was roaring in pain, he was lying on the cold forest floor with his hands tied behind his back and his feet bound, and he wasn’t alone. He could hear a fire crackling, men softly talking several yards away, and horses about twenty yards behind him. He slowly cracked open his eyes to see Duncan, Sam, and the other man responsible for his roaring pain lounging against their saddles next to a fire blazing in the half-finished pit.
Alec closed his eyes again, barely stifling a snort at the stellar champion he’d turned out to be, seeing how he’d almost literally been caught with his pants down but for the men arriving five minutes later, and Jane was right now back in the loving arms of her dictatorial father. Hell, she had saved his sorry ass. “Could someone untie me before my arms fall off?” he asked, making three sets of glaring eyes turn to him—not one of the bastards rushing to fulfill his request.
Duncan snorted. “Why, so you can pummel us again?” He rubbed his swollen jaw, his glare intensifying. “Where in the name of God did ye learn to fight like that?” Duncan got up and walked over to crouch down in front of him. “You’ve always been anything but serious, but I don’t recall your ever being an outright idiot. Mind telling me what possessed you to hide Carolina from Titus?”
“I don’t like bullies.”
“He’s her father,” Duncan snapped. “And you’re a goddamn idiot.”
“Thanks for the help, by the way, uncle.”
“Somebody had to stop you from committing suicide.” Duncan leaned closer. “Christ, man, ye don’t piss off the most powerful magic-makers on the planet.”
“You’re lucky Mac didn’t rip you to shreds,” the stranger interjected. “Considering the ten days of hell we just spent looking for her.” He visibly shuddered and shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of the Oceanus men quite so…crazy.”
“And you are?”
The guy rubbed his stomach where Alec had planted his boot earlier. “Trace Huntsman, Mac’s friend from Midnight Bay.”
“The lobsterman friend who coldcocked Mac and locked him in the cellar when his son’s uncles were trying to kill him?”
Trace nodded. “If you know the story, then I suggest you take note as to how Titus deals with people who mess with his family.”
“What in hell were ye thinking?” Duncan repeated. “Why didn’t you drag Carolina up the mountain the day you found her?”
“Because I don’t like bullies. Are you going to untie me sometime tonight?”
Duncan got up and walked back to the fire. “As far as I’m concerned, one idiot in the family is already one too many,” he muttered, sitting down and reclining against his saddle. “So I’m thinking ye should stay right where you are until ye find a little wisdom.” He rubbed his swollen jaw. “Or until I cool off.”
Alec dropped his head, trying to relax his muscles. Christ, he hurt; several of his ribs felt cracked for real this time, he was pretty sure he had two loose teeth, and his nearly healed wrist was swelling into the rope and throbbing. “Who was the bastard who rode off with her?” he asked without lifting his head. “Jane called him by name, so she must know him.”
“Jane?” Trace said, sitting up. “You mean you really didn’t know who she was?”
Duncan snorted before Alec could answer. “Of course he knew.” He took a sip from a bottle of Scotch—his bottle, Alec couldn’t help but notice—then used it to point at him. “My nephew might be an idiot, but he’s not stupid.”
Alec also couldn’t help but notice that Sam Waters didn’t have much to say about anything—just like he hadn’t earlier when everything had been going to hell in a handbasket. Not that he blamed the man, considering Mac’s mood at the time.
“So, who was the bastard?” Alec repeated.
“Nicholas,” Trace said, motioning for Duncan to hand him the Scotch. “I don’t recall hearing a last name. He’s supposedly Carolina’s bodyguard from mythological Atlantis.” He took a swig from the bottle and handed it to Sam before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “And after spending the last ten days scouring four continents through five friggin’ centuries with him,” Trace continued with another visible shudder, “I figure the bastard gave fighting lessons to Attila the Hun.” He shot Alec a nasty grin. “Mac told me Titus is encouraging Nicholas to court Carolina over the next few weeks, since they’ve known each other since they were kids.” Trace snorted, taking the bottle when Sam handed it back. “Assuming he won’t get lost in the crowd of competition arriving at Nova Mare this weekend.”
Alec gritted his teeth to propel himself upright and leaned against the tree behind him. “What competition?”
Trace handed the bottle off to Duncan before looking at Alec again. “The way I understand it, six men from various centuries, all chosen by Titus for their skills on the battlefield, are coming to Spellbound Falls to vie for Carolina’s hand in marriage. According to Mac, his old man personally hand-delivered each of them an engraved invitation to Nova Mare’s grand opening ball that’s taking place in three weeks, along with enough power to breach time to get here. Mac said Titus instructed them to arrive no later than this weekend, to come alone, and to leave their weapons at home.”
“The old bastard’s made his daughter a goddamn prize?” Alec growled. And the crazy woman had rushed to save his sorry ass? “Christ, no wonder she changed her name and ran away.”
“Mac said Titus let her run away, thinking to give Carolina a chance to find a husband on her own.” Trace pushed himself to his feet and, after snagging the bottle from Duncan on his way by, crouched in front of Alec and grinned. “But apparently the best she could find was you.” He held the bottle to Alec’s mouth and let him take a swig before lowering it to look him in the eyes. “I figure you have two choices the moment the ropes come off; you can head home to Pine Creek and forget you ever heard of Carolina Oceanus, or you can wrangle yourself an invitation to Nova Mare’s grand opening ball.”
“Or,” Alec said quietly, “I can steal Jane back and make sure she disappears for good this time.”
Trace apparently had to think about that before he slowly nodded. “You could try,” he said just as quietly, “if you don’t have an aversion to dying.” He shrugged. “Titus doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who makes the same mistake twice. He lost Carolina to kidnappers two weeks ago; I doubt he’ll lose her again. The energy he’s going to expend securing Nova Mare will probably suck the sun dry.”
“Did you catch the third kidnapper?”
“No.”
“Did Titus figure out how they were able to cut off her ankle bracelet?”
“No.”
Alec smiled. “Do ye suppose my bringing him the
head of the third kidnapper will get me invited to the ball?”
Trace gave a chuckle and started untying Alec’s feet. “Hell, you do that and you could probably walk in the front door, toss Carolina over your shoulder, and walk back out again without anyone stopping you.” He pulled Alec forward and untied his hands then straightened, his ice-blue eyes stone-cold sober. “It was a hell of an ugly ten days when we didn’t know if Carolina was even alive. Mac and Titus are still pissed that they can’t figure out who had the balls to take her, so I doubt either of them is going to let her out of their sight anytime soon.” He grinned again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man tags along on her honeymoon.”
Alec carefully rubbed the circulation back into his hands. “Assuming Jane hangs around long enough to get married.”
Trace turned and sat down against a tree, picked up the bottle, and waved it toward the campfire. “Help me out here, Duncan. Since your nephew is obviously another one of you MacKeage throwbacks, will you please help me explain to him that Carolina isn’t leaving Nova Mare without a wedding band on her finger. And Sam, if you get any quieter, I’m going to start digging your grave.” He looked over at Alec. “Titus predates history, for christsakes; marriage isn’t an option for the daughter of the king of the drùidhs, it’s a requirement.”
Having noticed the bottle was nearly empty, Alec snatched it away from Trace and lifted it to his lips, not lowering it until he’d coaxed every last drop down his throat—after, that is, he’d swirled it over his loose teeth and the inside of his swollen jaw.
“You could do worse than Carolina,” Duncan said softly.
Alec glared at him. “Aye, and she could do a hell of a lot better than me.” He shook his head. “I’m never getting married.”
Duncan snorted. “I seem to recall telling myself that very thing not so long ago. Marriage isn’t a death sentence, Alec; it’s a rebirth.”
“It would certainly solve Carolina’s problem,” Sam interjected, finally finding his voice. “And yours.”
Alec turned his glare on Waters. “I wasn’t aware I had a problem. Or I didn’t have one until Jane Smith suddenly showed up in my neck of the woods—uninvited, I might point out.” He looked down at the bottle, pushing at the label with his thumbnail. “So I’m guessing that particular problem’s over now.”
“But hers isn’t,” Sam growled. “In fact, based on what Trace just said, she’s got seven problems.” He nodded when Alec snapped his head up. “Or are you forgetting the six invitations Titus personally delivered, as well as Nicholas?” He cocked his head. “You spent, what, ten days getting to know Carolina? Tell me, do you think she’ll make a good warrior’s wife and enjoy living in some ancient century?”
“She’s from mythological time,” Alec said on a hiss, feeling like he’d just taken another punch to the gut when he remembered Jane’s iPad full of science books. “Any century later than the one she was born in will seem modern to her.”
Sam eyed him for several heartbeats, then leaned back against his saddle with a shrug. “Yeah, she’ll probably be too busy having babies to miss technology, anyway.”
“Actually,” Trace said, drawing Alec’s attention again, “you do still have a problem; namely, those very ten days you spent alone out here with Carolina, not to mention knowingly hiding her from her family. I’m not all that certain Titus is going to let that slide.” He snorted. “I sure as hell know Mac won’t.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what we went through trying to find her. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Titus offers Carolina to whichever of those seven men brings him your head.” He ran his gaze over Alec and suddenly grinned. “You think you can survive running a three-week gauntlet of epic proportions?”
“Over my dead body,” Duncan growled, getting to his feet—to better glare at Trace, Alec assumed. “No one is hunting anyone for sport on my watch, especially not one of my clansmen. And a couple of pissed off, pain-in-the-ass wizards sure as hell aren’t turning my nephew into a means to win a goddamn princess wife. MacKeages are warriors, and we do the hunting.”
“This isn’t your fight, Duncan,” Alec said softly.
Duncan pointed at him. “I’m driving ye back to Pine Creek tonight.”
“Last I knew, MacKeages don’t run, either.” Alec set down the bottle and slowly pushed himself to his feet, stifling an urge to cradle his ribs. “Assuming there’s even anything to run from,” he continued, gesturing down at Trace. “He’s just speculating on what Titus and Mac might like to do—which I’m betting they won’t. They’ll calm down now that they have Jane back unharmed.”
“Carolina!” Duncan snapped. “She’s Carolina Oceanus.” He pointed at Alec again. “And if ye don’t want to spend the next three weeks rotting in that goddamn hole in the belly of my mountain, you’ll stay the hell away from her.”
“Not a problem, uncle,” Alec said, walking over and snagging the strap on his backpack. He slid it onto his shoulders and turned to him. “I’ll call you when I’m ready for this site’s lean-to and privy to be delivered.” He started down the trail in the direction of his old campsite. “Enjoy the view when you wake up in the morning, gentlemen,” he said, waving an obscene gesture over his shoulder as he walked into the night. “Ye have Jane to thank for it.”
Chapter Twelve
Jane—she really didn’t feel like Carolina anymore—knelt in front of the chair with her arms wrapped around her mother’s waist, unable to stem the flow of tears that had started the moment Nicholas had deposited her inside the door of her parent’s private cottage. “You have to help me, Mama,” she said on a sob, straightening to wipe her eyes. “I need to go after Alec. He saved my life, and instead of rewarding him, Mac beat him up and Father left him at the mercy of Trace and Duncan.”
“Hush, baby,” Rana crooned, pulling her back into a fierce hug. “Duncan will protect his nephew.”
“But his ribs are still bruised from a fall he took, and the men pummeled him.” Jane straightened again. “Alec didn’t know who I was. He thought he was helping an ordinary woman named Jane Smith. I have to go back and explain why I lied so he won’t hate me. Oh God, I hurt him worse than Mac did,” she sobbed, burying her face in her mother’s bosom again. “Please help me, Mama.”
“I’m sorry,” Rana said thickly, her lips touching Jane’s forehead. “But I doubt the combined power of the gods could get you out of here now.” She threaded shaking fingers through Jane’s tangled hair and tilted her face up. “We didn’t know if you were dead or alive, Caro,” she whispered, her own tears spilling free. “Or what unspeakable horrors you were experiencing. Why didn’t you come to us? Why did you run to Alec MacKeage instead of Maximilian?”
“This is why! I didn’t want to be locked away like a misbehaving child, then given to the first man brave enough to ask for my hand in marriage.”
“I’ve managed to keep that from happening so far, haven’t I?” Rana said calmly, brushing her thumbs over Jane’s cheeks. “My word, Caro; I won’t let your father force you into marriage. But,” she said, dropping her hands to grip Jane’s shoulders, “I’m afraid I couldn’t stop him from scouring the world looking for warriors to bring here to court you in the weeks leading up to Nova Mare’s grand opening ball.” Jane reared back with a gasp, but her mother’s grip was unbreakable. “Listen to me,” Rana said firmly. “It’s time for you to get serious about settling down. You’re nearly thirty-one years old, and your childbearing years are waning.” Her eyes softened. “Don’t you want babies, Carolina? Beautiful sons and daughters who will fill your heart to near bursting as you and Maximilian have filled mine?”
“Not if it means I have to marry a man I don’t love.” Jane jerked away and jumped to her feet, hugging herself. “Mama, please, you have to make Father stop this insanity. This is the twenty-first century,” she cried, gesturing angrily. “Fathers do not force their daughters to marry in this time.” She gasped when her mother lowered her gaze. “No! No, I refuse to l
ive in any other century!”
Rana lifted beseeching, pain-filled eyes. “I persuaded Titus to give you two years to find a husband in this century, Carolina.” She stood up and walked over to touch Jane’s cheek. “Two long, heartbreaking years with the entire world at your disposal, and you still couldn’t find anyone to love.”
Jane threw herself into her mother’s arms again. “I promise to stop being so fussy! I just need more time.”
“Hush now,” Rana crooned, holding her tightly. “You mustn’t ever stop being fussy, Daughter, or settle for anything less than true love.” She leaned away, smiling tenderly. “You deserve a husband you absolutely adore. A man who steals your breath away and makes you glad you were born a woman.”
“But I did find such a man,” Jane said, dropping her head to her mother’s shoulder again on a lingering sob. “Alec makes me feel smart and strong and feminine and alive.”
“Then why didn’t this wonderful man bring you home to us?”
She straightened. “Because he doesn’t believe in treating a grown woman like a mindless child. He was waiting for me to decide how to handle Father, and offered to stand beside me instead of fight my battle for me.”
Rana tucked a lock of Jane’s hair behind one ear, her eyes crinkling with her smile. “Then you did indeed find a rare treasure, Caro. But,” she said, gripping Jane’s shoulders again, “I’m afraid Alec MacKeage is not one of your father’s or Maximilian’s favorite people at the moment. You might see him as an exciting, modern male, but they see him as the bastard who put us through ten days of hell. It wasn’t until Olivia finally told Duncan what was going on that Duncan said he suspected you were right here in Spellbound Falls.”
“Then that makes Duncan the bastard,” Jane hissed, pulling away. “He betrayed his own nephew.”
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