by C. A. Szarek
“Alexandria.” Alana frowned. The name was an admonition, but as beautiful as the baby.
“Well, if the clan didna believe in Fae before, they’re certain ta now.” Duncan shook his head, but his words were wrapped in amusement.
“Umm….” Jules rubbed her eyes.
Nope. Kid’s still here.
“My daughter can blink.” Alana’s voice was a breathy sigh.
Claire giggled. “Lately she does it a lot. Lexi, come here!” Her sister opened her arms and the baby disappeared. Only to appear seconds later in Claire’s arms.
Jules frowned. “What the hell?”
“Blinking is a magic ability.” Xander finally put Jules out of her misery. He pressed his very pregnant wife, Janet, into a chair and rubbed her shoulders as he spoke, even though the brunette beauty had told him not to fuss over her. “Alana and Angus can do it, too. They picture where they want to go in their minds,” he tapped his forehead, “and simply appear there.”
“So like travel by telekinesis?”
“Aye,” Claire answered. Everyone else looked confused by the word Jules had said.
“Wow.”
“Pretty much.” Her sister bounced the cute kid in her arms.
“She’s too young to understand magic in the castle can be dangerous, despite my attempts to explain.” Alana’s fair brows drew tight.
“It’s just natural for her.” Claire smiled at her niece.
The baby reached for Claire’s face, patting her cheek, and giggled. She had dark hair, like Duncan and Alex, but her eyes were big and violet, like Alana’s. She was beautiful, with chubby pink cheeks and the most perfect rosebud mouth that’d make a vain woman jealous because of the natural red color.
“When she’s mad at Alana, she always finds her dad.” Claire’s green eyes danced.
The princess frowned. “My daughter and I will have words, no doubt, many times as she grows.”
Alex chuckled and kissed his wife. “Worry no’, mò chridhe, I’ll always be here ta intervene.”
“Or gather wagers.” Duncan smirked.
Claire giggled and Jules had to swallow to school her expression. The princess didn’t look pleased with her man and his brother—or Claire. Alana’s gorgeous face was twisted in a scowl.
Xander cleared his throat to cover what suspiciously sounded like a laugh and Janet was grinning, too.
The patriarch—his name was Iain—sat in a chair by the door, grinning and shaking his head.
Jules watched the dynamic of the people in the room and her stomach flipped. These people were her sister’s family. Didn’t matter that they were four hundred years removed from what was familiar.
People were the same here. Love was the same.
She bit down to stave off unwanted emotion. Jules was going to lose her sister.
At least Claire belongs here.
For some reason, Hugh danced into her head. Her heart sped up, but she ignored it. She wasn’t where she belonged. Not in Scotland, and definitely not in 1675. Dwelling on the MacDonald laird was more than foolish—something Jules never allowed herself to be.
Claire handed the baby over to her mother. The movement caught Jules’ eye and her gaze collided with her sister’s, tugging her from her thoughts.
“You okay, big sister?”
“You got it.” Jules plastered on a smile.
Claire came to her side and slipped an arm around her waist. She squeezed in comfort, as if she’d known Jules was full of crap.
She was far from okay. Didn’t feel like being specific, though. “When do we start looking for this chick?”
“Now,” Duncan said.
* * * *
Jules had everyone’s full attention when she explained Bree—Bridei, whatever—had been living in the cave of the Faery Stones in the twenty-first century.
No one expected her to be stupid enough to stick around in this century, but all the men agreed it would make sense to start there. Jules and Bree had arrived in 1675 via the portal, after all.
It didn’t take long to get organized and mount up to head there. Duncan felt they needed to start before it got dark, and the Fae halfling—as they all called her—had had a head start. Jules had been with Hugh at Armadale all day and overnight.
She rode her own horse, and couldn’t help looking over her shoulder for a big black stallion, chiding herself every time.
The beach didn’t even look remotely familiar, although it couldn’t be far from where Hugh had found her. She’d been naked and disoriented, so Jules didn’t figure she could’ve wandered far.
“I don’t think I was this far down,” she said to no one in particular. She glanced around, sitting taller on the dark brown pony Duncan had given her to ride. He’d told her the beast was gentle and would be easy for an inexperienced rider.
“Alana has magic covering the area, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember where you were.” Xander’s smile was kind as their eyes met.
She was struck by his handsomeness. The guy was almost too good-looking. No man should have eyes that color or cheekbones that high. His face was flawless. Hairless and supermodelesque. His short white-blond locks shifted in the breeze as Jules maintained eye-contact with those violet orbs. “Ah.”
Xander smirked. “Lass, I can read your thoughts.”
Heat kissed her cheeks. “Uh, sorry.” She averted her gaze and took a breath.
“Don’t fret. Just picture a wall in your mind. It will help.”
She looked back at the Fae man and nodded. “Thanks for the tip. But if you can read my mind, can you read everyone’s?”
“Aye. Except my wife’s.”
Well, that’s irony if I ever heard it.
“Geesh. That sucks. Sounds like it’d be noisy. How do you get any peace?”
He smiled again, this time his feelings for his wife palpable, making him practically glow. “Janet gives me peace.”
Envy roiled Jules’ gut, but she ignored Hugh’s face when it popped into her head.
The look Xander sported suggested he’d caught that as well, and Jules frowned. She consciously constructed a brick version of The Great Wall in her mind and screamed at herself to stop thinking of her barbarian.
“Jules, grab the reins tighter. Seamus will wander.”
She jolted at her sister’s admonition, but straightened and forced another nod. Jules muttered thanks and bit back a jibe to Claire that went something like, ‘since when are you a master horseman?’
Her sister rode a white filly that was slender and gorgeous. She’d told Jules her name was Fancy, and she definitely looked it. The horse was larger than the long-haired Highland pony Jules was on.
They might be Texans by birth, but both were most certainly city girls. Neither had been on horseback, save a petting zoo pony ride or two when they’d been little. They’d had one or two foster placements that’d been decent and ‘parents’ that’d taken them to an occasional carnival.
Xander’s gaze was warm, concerned, when their eyes met a second time, but Jules didn’t say anything to the former Fae Warrior about what he’d most likely ‘overheard.’ “We’re close the cave.”
“Good.” Jules shifted on Seamus’ back and wrapped the leather reins tight around her knuckles. “I don’t think Bree will be there. She was pretty insistent on getting home.”
“I doona’ disagree, lass, but ‘tis worth a look.” Duncan sat on a huge white stallion and nodded as he maneuvered around her and Xander to the front of their group.
Jules’ stomach lurched and a sense of dread washed over her. “I don’t feel so good.” She swallowed hard—twice—to talk the ‘ol tummy out of tossing her breakfast. Was the horseback ride making her nauseous? Riding with Hugh hadn’t bothered her.
Stop saying his name!
“Magic. I think I feel it, too,” Claire said.
“Alana’s spell is designed to make being in the area undesirable,” Xander said.
“Well, it works,” Jules force
d out.
Duncan called a halt, one arm up, and they all dismounted.
Jules bounced on her heels when her boots hit the sand, but she was glad she didn’t face plant since her legs wobbled and her ass ached from the ride.
Her sister grabbed her arm and flashed a smile. Claire had put on some pants, but she’d had to argue with her husband to be able to tag along.
Men.
No, not just men. Pushy Highlanders.
Alana had stayed with Janet and kids, but Alex had allowed his son, Angus, to come. The kid had proudly announced to Jules he’d just turned twelve.
He was basically a mini Alex, with shaggy dark hair and blue eyes. Tall for his age, too, so no doubt he’d be a giant like the other men in his family when he was done growing.
Jules almost wanted to ask what was in the water. All the MacLeods she’d met were broad and tall. Muscled from hard work, even the shortest of the bunch still had to stand about six feet. The women were on the tall side, too.
Xander said some words she didn’t understand, and the pressure and trepidation melted from her body. She felt lighter and rolled her shoulders. Jules heard many of their group—which numbered about twelve not including the Fae man and the twins—whispering sounds of relief and straightening their backs.
Duncan’s cousin Cormac winked when Jules met his gaze. He was cute, in a rough way. Sporting a short beard, he had pleasant dark eyes—that were nothing like a certain barbarian’s even though they shared a color.
Dammit Jules, really?
Duncan’s shouted orders to spread out yanked her from her thoughts. The men jogged or rode away, and Cormac—who was their best tracker, according to Claire—got down to business on the beach.
Jules followed her sister when Alex motioned the remaining group forward.
She looked around. Foggy recognition kissed her mind. The area looked like itself in her century, but the cliff was wider, more defined. Sat further from the water, too. The fissure that doubled as an entrance to the cave containing the portal wasn’t significantly different, either. Wider, maybe. Except the big MacLeods in front had to turn sideways to enter.
“Nothin’,” Claire announced when they’d all piled inside.
Xander hovered with a torch over Jules’ shoulder as she turned her cop brain on and started to look around. He’d probably read her thoughts again, and he knew what she was trying to do, but she wasn’t complaining. She needed the light to mentally catalogue everything around her.
She circled the Faery Stones—which pretty much looked the same in modern times. The center crystal that sat higher than the rest caught the firelight and seemed to wink at her. “I don’t see any signs that anyone was here,” Jules said.
“I sense Alana’s spells and the normal hum of the Stones,” Xander said.
The twins and Claire exchanged a look, but said nothing.
Angus stood next to his father, much too quiet for a kid his age. Deep concentration overtook his expression. “I feel nothing, Da,” he said after a few moments. “No other magic, Xander.”
The Fae man nodded and Alex patted the kid’s shoulder, muttering something in Gaelic.
Claire had told her Angus was like his mom, had a lot of magic.
“If she wanted to go to Ireland, how could she get there?” Jules asked.
“The lass could hire a ship,” Xander answered.
“With what money? And no clothes. If I was naked, so was she.”
Xander gave her a long look, and Duncan smirked.
“The lass needs no coin. Desperation guides her,” Alex said. His eyes darted to his son, as if the boy’s presence was keeping him from being frank.
“But how would she…” Jules looked at Claire, who wore an uncomfortable expression. “Oh…” A little slow on the uptake there, Jules. Bree would sleep her way onto a ship? Ew.
“We know no’ where she migh’ go,” Alex said, his head tilted to one side.
“All I know is she was very insistent on getting home.”
“For all we know, she went into the Fae Realm,” Claire remarked.
The men seemed to consider that for a few moments of silence.
“We know no’,” Duncan said finally, slipping his arm around Claire’s shoulders. “But if the lass is on Skye, we willna cease ‘til we find her.”
They searched the beach and surrounding hills until it was dark. Cormac confirmed the only trail he’d scented out was a faint one that was probably Hugh’s horse, but there were no signs of Bree or anything else.
“She may have masked her trail with magic, though I sense nothing,” Xander said when they’d all remounted their horses.
“Nay, I would feel it.” Angus nodded emphatically. “Mother said she would know if tha Stones opened, and they didna. I too can feel them. They call to me, bu’ now they sleep.”
“Good job, lad.”
The boy beamed at his father’s praise and sat taller on his Highland pony.
The ride back to Dunvegan was full of strategy and observation. Duncan had two shifts of men he was planning on sending out to scour the island, and three of his cousins agreed to stay out overnight—or at least longer than the rest of them.
Jules quickly explained how she would set up a search grid and was shocked that her sister’s husband and his brother not only listened, but took her suggestions to heart.
At least Duncan and Alex aren’t barbarians.
She smirked, then screamed at herself for the hundredth thought of him.
You’re freakin’ hopeless.
Claire showed her to a guest room as soon as they were sealed safely inside Dunvegan’s walls, and Jules soaked in the wooden tub when her sister insisted she needed a bath. It was probably a good idea after the horseback ride. She didn’t need stiff muscles in the morning.
When she climbed into the big borrowed bed and lay down, all Jules could see was Hugh MacDonald when she closed her eyes—no matter the amount of cursing at herself.
She couldn’t help but wish he was next to her.
Dammit.
Chapter Eleven
Life seventeenth century style started early and Jules yawned her way through breakfast and mourned the no-coffee thing.
She should be used to it, since it was the third morning she’d woken up at Dunvegan, but not so much.
Duncan had offered her mead, but she certainly wasn’t going to drink an alcoholic beverage before noon. The warm milk option was out, too. She hadn’t had a glass of milk since she was a kid. And besides, it was goat’s milk. Just…ew.
“Awfully picky, big sister, arencha?” Claire winked and sipped water—the only option Jules thought about going for.
“Scots eat weird stuff in the morning. Even in the future.”
Her sister laughed when all the males at the table grumbled.
Jules pretended to not notice and reached for a warm roll—the only offering that looked appealing.
Claire handed her a small pot of honey and she muttered thanks as she poured some on. The bread was moist and warm; the honey sweet on her tongue. Jules sighed and closed her eyes. She fidgeted in the stupid corset that was stealing her breath. Day three wasn’t working for her attire, either.
“You don’t want your boobs on your stomach, do you? No bra, get used to it,” Claire had said the first morning, when she’d popped into her guestroom with clothes.
The corset was tight and did the job of supporting her breasts, but damn. It was uncomfortable. And way too girly. All feminine curves and the fabric had a sheen even though it was black. Every night when she’d taken it off her torso had ached, no matter how long she’d lingered in a hot bath.
The shirt Claire had given her—she’d called it a leine—was ivory and had puffy sleeves, but Jules didn’t mind that. The neckline was low cut and didn’t constrict.
She’d refused a skirt and Claire had rolled her eyes, but had given her a pair of pants that actually fit—unlike the ones Mab had found. They were dark brown bru
shed leather, and as comfy as a pair of pj’s. She didn’t mind wearing them for the third day in a row.
The boots were the best part of her outfit. Deerskin, with fluffy insides and white rabbit fur at the top. They fit perfectly, and even though her sister hadn’t said, Jules suspected they belonged to Janet. The woman matched Jules in height and build—minus the pregnant part, of course.
Movement to her right drew her attention, and Jules’ gaze collided with Janet’s sapphire one—as if the woman had known Jules was thinking of her.
Janet smiled and reclined in her chair, rubbing her distended tummy.
Xander leaned over, kissing his wife’s cheek. “Are you well, mò aingeal?”
“I am.” The smile for her husband was brilliant and they gazed at each other as if there was no else at the table—or in the world.
Jules tried not to stare, or admit she was jealous. Not of Janet for Xander or anything, but because she didn’t have a guy to look at her like that.
Geeze, get over yourself. Since when are you a sappy chick?
She definitely ignored the memory of the very vivid—erotic—dreams she’d had every stupid night she’d been there, starring a certain barbarian and a whole lotta naked.
Xander placed a wide palm on his wife’s stomach, a dreamy smily curving his lips.
“He’s kickin’ somethin’ fierce this mornin’.” Janet grinned.
“I hope he joins us soon,” Claire said, biting into an apple.
“Me too!” Angus grinned. “I want to meet him.”
“I hope you all will be jus’ as happy, if he is a she,” Janet said.
Xander chuckled and whispered something in his wife’s ear that made her blush and beam.
“’Tis a lad,” Angus said.
No one contradicted the boy, and Jules bit back the urge to ask if he knew from some sort of magic.
Conversation and bantering continued until the men all tapered off to start their collective days. They’d discussed finding Bree for the hundredth time, and mentioned the party that had already left Dunvegan before dawn to continue the search.
