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Wolf Castle (Phoenix Throne Book 4): A Scottish Highlander Time Travel Romance

Page 5

by Heather Walker


  Sadie picked up the next two blankets when a shout echoed down the passage outside the door. She jumped. Blair shot upright fast. Footsteps ran down the stone passage. Men’s voices chattered out of sight, and weapons clattered metal against metal.

  Sadie spun around toward the noise. Patients struggled to sit up all over the room. They cried out in terror, and many extended their hands to Sadie to help them. She raised her voice above the noise. “The attack! All of you stay where you are. Don’t move until we receive word.”

  Her voice didn’t pacify anybody, and it certainly didn’t settle her nerves. After three weeks in this hellhole, the first sign of attack set her hair on end just like everybody else. She wanted to scream and run for it, but she had to stay with the patients. Most couldn’t sit upright, let alone flee if they needed to.

  She turned one way and then the other, but she couldn’t do anything but wait. She caught sight of Lachlan and his men running past the door on their way to the Tower House entrance. She didn’t have to wonder what they were doing. Those bloodsucking vampires would come swarming over the hills. Lachlan wouldn’t take his men outside if they weren’t already attacking the castle in search of more victims.

  In a matter of seconds, the scene outside would descend into that bloodbath she saw when she first woke up in this strange country. Wolves and men would fight the vampires with everything they had. When the battle ended, one of two things would happen. If any McLeans remained alive, the survivors would bring any wounded here to this hall. Sadie would begin the terrible process of keeping them alive and nursing them back to health. Otherwise, the vampires would overrun the castle and slaughter everyone inside. That was the only other possible outcome.

  Her heart quailed at the thought of either possibility. She didn’t want to die, but she couldn’t go on like this. Lachlan saw it. Even the wounded saw it written on her face. She spent three solid weeks hoping and praying and giving every ounce of her strength to these wounded, only to watch them fall, one after the other.

  Every now and then, someone like Blair or Christie pulled through. The rest died and joined the mass grave of McLeans lying behind the Tower House. Sometimes Sadie wished she could go there, too, just so she wouldn’t have to face the next three weeks of her life.

  Blair flipped over on his hands and his one good knee. He rocked back on his heel and grunted. “Get me up. Get me up, I say!”

  Sadie rushed to his side. “You can’t, Blair. You can’t walk. You better stay here.”

  “Get me up!” he thundered. “I’ll no lie ’ere like a dog while those things drink our precious blood. Get me up! I’m no such a lump I cinnae defend this Hoose from ’em. Get me up afore I do summat I shouldnae.”

  His powerful hand clamped Sadie’s shoulder. He almost flattened her getting onto his good leg. Fresh blood stained his bandaged stump and dripped onto the floor, but he paid it no heed. He hopped to the corner and seized a halberd leaning against the wall. He hefted it in his hand and nodded, satisfied.

  He turned back to head for the door when that strange man appeared in the doorway. He carried his saber bare in one hand, and his eyes darted around the room. His gaze came to rest first on Sadie and then on Blair. The two men faced each other. Then Blair hopped to the door and confronted him. “Stand, mon. Stand and defend this hall from ’em if ye’re a mon. I’m no what I once was, but I’ll do me duty tae this Hoose afore I gi’e ’em another drop o’ me blood.”

  The stranger nodded, but before he could answer or move a muscle, an earth-shaking explosion shook the whole castle. Screams echoed through the hall. Blair whirled around to check the wounded when the ceiling caved in on top of their heads. Half the room collapsed in a smoking crater of stone, beams, and flattened bodies.

  Chapter 7

  Callum rushed into the hall, but he couldn’t see much through the clouds of dust. The implosion knocked down the candelabras illuminating the room and reduced visibility even further.

  The big one-legged Montgomery who first confronted him appeared at his side. “Where’s the wee lassie? Lassie!” he called. “Lassie, where are ye?”

  A young boy’s frightened cries pierced the din. The Montgomery went down on his one knee, and Callum saw that woman bending over a lad in a McLean tartan. The woman murmured in the Montgomery’s ear, but Callum couldn’t make out the words. Between the two of them, they hoisted the boy to his feet. He whimpered in pain, but the Montgomery supported him.

  The woman took the boy’s arm. “Let me take him, Blair. You need help, too.”

  Blair pushed her off. “Go alaing o’ ye. I’m no dishrag. I can take care o’ meself. Ye deal tae the others, lassie.”

  She looked around the room. For a brief instant, her eyes met Callum’s but he couldn’t move or speak. He would recognize her strange language anywhere. All this time, he thought she saw any ordinary Highland maid, when she was really one of those time-travelers all the time.

  He stared at her face. Her clothes, her hair, and her behavior blended into her surroundings. No one would ever guess she was one of Elle and Carmen’s friends from the other side of eternity. How did she get here, when the spell transported Elle, Carmen, and Hazel to Urlu?

  One more woman of their group remained unaccounted for. Where was she? She could be anywhere in creation. Maybe she was back in her own country. Maybe she went to Faery the way Fergus suggested. Callum could only guess, but he had to face the situation in front of him. This woman belonged to another race, another time and another reality, yet here she was in the heart of Clan McLean.

  She looked over her shoulder. No one could see the rest of the wounded beyond the mountain of debris cutting the room in half. She took a few steps forward when Blair grabbed her arm. “Dinnae go in there, lassie. We mun’ get out o’ ’ere.”

  “But where?” she asked. “Where can we go? Lachlan is outside fighting those things, and nowhere else in the castle is safe.”

  Blair shook his head. “I dinnae ken where we’ll go, but we mun’ go, nonetheless. Look. The roof collapsed on the others. We’ll no get ’em out now. We mun’ take Christie and ourselves and flee while we ha’e the chance.”

  Callum shook himself. “There’s another room across the passage. It mun’ be empty, if it’s still standin’. We can go there until we decide what tae do.”

  Blair nodded. “Aye. That’s the way. Ye lead on. Ye’re the ainly able-bodied mon o’ us, and I mun’ take young McLean here.”

  “I’ll take him,” Callum replied. “Ye ken this Hoose better than I, and I ha’e twa good legs tae carry him. Ye take the lassie, and I’ll take the lad.”

  Blair hesitated. Then he bowed to Callum’s logic. Callum took the whimpering boy on his shoulder. Blair made his way to the door with the woman at his side. Blair swung his halberd in front of him and surveyed the passage in both directions. Apart from his hopping gait, no one would know he ever lost his leg.

  “Awright,” Blair murmured. “Gang ye across, and hurry!”

  The woman rushed forward. She stopped halfway to wait for Callum, and all four ducked into the room where Callum had his conference with Lachlan. The party barely got into the room when the window exploded broken glass all over the place. The woman screamed, and her arms flew up to protect her face. Before anyone could move, a hideous creature crawled over the windowsill into the room.

  Callum caught one glimpse of the thing. That’s all he needed to realize it wasn’t human, even though it had arms and legs and a head like any normal person. Its eyes glowed fiery red, and blood ran from its mouth to dribble down its chin. It bared its pointed fangs at the friends inside.

  Blair lunged for the thing. A ragged bellow escaped his lips. He chopped the thing’s head off with one stroke of his halberd, but it would never be enough. More and more of the creatures swarmed through the broken window into the castle.

  For one fraction of a second, Callum and the woman stood rooted to the floor. All of a sudden, the woman whipped around. She
snatched the fire iron from the cold hearth and dove into the mix. She smashed the vampires’ heads in and shrieked to raise the dead.

  Callum broke out of his shock. He lowered Christie into the nearest chair and plunged into the fight next to the woman. Blair, Callum, and the woman fought side by side to drive those things back and stop them entering.

  They succeeded in forcing the enemy out of the room. When he got near the window, Callum’s eye rested on the scene outside, and his blood ran cold. Thousands upon thousands of those vampires rushed over hills. They closed ranks with the McLeans and fought for every inch of territory between the Tower House and the coastline in the distance. The demons swarmed up the walls to the roof, where men fought them off in a desperate battle to defend the castle.

  In that moment, Callum understood as never before just how hopeless the McLeans’ position was. They couldn’t win against this force invading from the sea. The vampires would keep attacking until they slaughtered the Clan to the last man.

  How easy it would be for Callum to launch off the castle roof, spread his wings, and incinerate this menace in one blast of his flaming breath. Why did he hesitate? Was Jamie outside right now with Lachlan? Was Jamie already using his Urlu powers to defend these embattled people?

  Another cry caught his ear. He spun around to see one last vampire bending over Christie. Where did it come from? How did it sneak into the room without anybody seeing it? It must have snuck around behind them while they were busy with the others.

  Christie fought the thing off as best he could, but he couldn’t muster the strength in his arms to hold it off. The vampire loomed closer to the boy’s throat. Its rapacious mouth yawned open to sink its fangs into his neck.

  Just then, Christie yanked the dirk from his belt and plunged it into the vampire’s stomach. The monster roared out loud, but it didn’t fall away. Callum reacted on pure adrenaline. He leapt at the thing and raised his sword to slice it in half when an overwhelming weight hit him in the back. It knocked him off balance.

  The next thing Callum knew, he tumbled head over heels under the body of another vampire. For a moment, he reeled in surprise. The next instant, he lunged back in a rage. He forced himself to his feet.

  In front of his eyes, the first vampire grabbed a handful of Christie’s hair. It forced the boy’s head back to expose his throat. Christie kicked and struggled, but the vampire jammed him down in the chair so he couldn’t get up.

  Callum charged the thing with the second vampire still clinging to his back. He took hold of his saber in both hands and swung. The blade whistled through the air, and Callum felt no resistance when it sliced the vampire’s head clean off.

  Blood spouted from the severed neck and rained all over Christie, but Callum didn’t see that. White-hot needles sank into his shoulder. He whirled around to face his enemy, but he couldn’t face it stuck to his own back.

  Callum roared in pain and fury. He spun one way and then the other, but the vampire clung to him and wouldn’t let go. Callum’s mind went into overdrive. He had to get rid of this parasite. It already bit him once, and it would kill him if it got the chance.

  He thought fast. He turned sideways to smash the thing against the wall when a feral bellow blasted into his ear. The next thing he knew, the vampire sailed off him, and the oppressive weight lifted off his shoulders. He could breathe again.

  He turned around to see that woman standing there with a halberd in her hands. Blood dripped from its blade, and the vampire’s headless body lay twitching at her feet. Their eyes locked. She saved his life killing that thing.

  The halberd didn’t look right in her hands. Nothing about her made sense, but Callum sensed his destiny caught up in her. Whatever she was, wherever she came from, he could never turn his back on her again.

  She faced the window, and they both came face to face with the terrible consequences of her actions. Blair Montgomery stretched out on the floor with one of those devils latched onto his neck. The vampire gulped and sucked at Blair’s throat.

  The woman lunged at the thing and jabbed it in the ribs with her halberd. It jerked its mouth away from the gaping hole in Blair’s neck to snarl at her, but she didn’t back down. She brandished the weapon in its face. “Get back! Get away from him!”

  The vampire hissed and spat its bloody drool at her, but it withdrew to the window and vanished into the night. The woman stood transfixed for an instant before she fell on her knees at Blair’s side. She burst into tears and bent over his face. “No, Blair! No! Don’t let this happen. You can’t die like this, not after all we’ve done.”

  A sickening rattle boiled out of the stricken man’s throat. Callum stood back and watched the deathly pallor creep over Blair’s face. He turned his glassy eyes on the woman. “Lassie. My lassie.”

  “No, Blair. Please, no,” she sobbed. “Don’t leave me, Blair. You’re gonna be okay. I know it.”

  Blair raised one disembodied hand and laid it against her cheek. “Thank ye, lassie. Thank ye fer me life. Ye ga’ed it back tae me when I thought I was surely dead. I thought I’d die on me back in that hall o’er there. It’s thanks tae ye I died on me feet defending this Hoose. Tell the Laird that. Tell him I died on me feet.”

  “I will,” she told him. “I’ll tell him you died fighting. You always were unbeatable, Blair. You always were.”

  “Aye, lassie.” He gave a deep sigh. “I allus was.”

  His hand fell away from her cheek. His head lolled the other way. He took one more terrible breath and lay still. The woman covered her face with her hands and cried.

  Chapter 8

  Sadie let out all her grief over Blair’s death. She didn’t care if that stranger saw. She certainly didn’t care if Christie saw. How could she stand this? She worked for weeks to save Blair’s life and to ensure he got back on the one leg he had left. Now he was dead, just like the others.

  She couldn’t do this. She didn’t give her heart and soul to caring for these men, only to watch them die horrible deaths like Blair’s. She didn’t look up until she vented all the tears she had to shed. She cried for dozens of other men who died in the same way. She cied for the women who lost their husbands and the children who lost their fathers. She cried for all the McLeans and everything they lost in this war.

  When she shed the last tear, she stayed where she was. She knelt next to Blair’s body and stared down at him. Her heart died with him. She couldn’t care about anybody anymore. She couldn’t pay the price of losing them.

  She wiped her face on her apron and stood up. Moping over another dead man didn’t solve the problem facing her right now. She rounded on that stranger and found him watching her with his deep sad eyes. He looked straight through her, but she wouldn’t back down now. He saw her raw grief. He might as well know everything.

  “We better get your shoulder cleaned up before the infection sets in.”

  He shrugged. “It’s naught. Leave’t alone.”

  She walked up to him. “I’ve seen too many men die from these bites. I won’t have another death on my conscience. Take off your shirt.”

  His head shot up. “Eh?”

  Sadie blushed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean like that. I have to clean the wound. I won’t lie and say it’s not going to hurt, ’cuz it hurts like a bastard. Just ask Christie.”

  They both looked at Christie. He lay unconscious in his chair. His head fell back, and his hair tussled to one side. “Well,” she muttered, “you could ask Christie, but I guess not now.”

  The man studied Christie’s inert form. “Is he hurt? Did he get injured fightin’ those things?”

  “He got his chest torn open a few days ago. I’ve had to clean out his wounds and disinfect them at least once a day, but we got the infection under control. Come on. Let me see your shoulder.”

  He hesitated a moment longer. Then he set to work. He sheathed his saber, moved his plaid aside, and peeled his shirt over his head. Sadie’s head came up to his bare chest. His smooth ski
n gleamed in the lamplight.

  Sadie got a hold of herself. She couldn’t check him out right now, and she didn’t want to check him out at all. She took the alcohol bottle from her pocket and wet a piece of cloth with it. She touched it to the wound, and the man sucked his breath through his teeth.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’ll get it done as fast as I can. What’s your name, and how did you come to this island?”

  He snarled between gritted teeth before he found voice to answer. “Me name’s Callum Cameron. Me brother and I—we were travelin’ o’erland tae our Clan up the loch, and we wound up ’ere.”

  “How did you manage to do that?” she asked. “You’re on an island off the Scottish coast. It’s not like you could accidentally stumble here.”

  He didn’t answer. He tensed all over, and his muscles stretched under his skin in front of her eyes. She tended enough men in various attitudes of undress over the last weeks. She learned to ignore their bodies and concentrate on the work. She couldn’t do that now. She found herself studying the fine grain of his skin and the deep valley where his chest muscles attached to his sternum.

  She glanced up at his grimacing face. “I’m all finished. You can put your shirt back on.”

  She took a step away, but she watched him pull his shirt over his head. God, what was wrong with her? She better get herself under control before she made a fool of herself. “I’m Sadie. Sadie Cole.”

  He nodded and tucked his shirt into his belt. “I ken aboot ye.”

  Sadie stared at him. “What are you talking about? How could you know about me?”

  “I mean,” he replied, “I ken aboot ye. I didnae ken yer name, but I ken how ye got ’ere and where ye come from. Ye were with ’Azel and Carmen and Elle at ’Azel’s hoose, and ’Azel cast a spell tae send ye all tae Camelot, and ye wound up ’ere. Am I right?”

 

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