Revenge (Book 3 of Lost Highlander series)

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Revenge (Book 3 of Lost Highlander series) Page 15

by Cassidy Cayman


  “I’m no’ going to kill him,” he said, though the look he gave Pietro still made her shiver. “He’ll do that fine on his own.” He stood up and started toward the remaining horses. “Come along, then, Romeo. Let us go fix yer harebrained mistake.”

  “What are we going to do?” Piper asked, alarmed.

  “Ye are going to stay here with Redmond and warm yerself by the fire until we return. We are going to try and intercept my brother, or keep him from being taken prisoner if he’s already gotten so far as making demands of Tavish Glen.” He let out a long low whistle and a few moments later a man came from the woods, only half surprised to see Pietro had returned. “Stay here and guard the lass until we return,” Quinn ordered.

  Redmond nodded and sat down, holding his hands to the fire to warm them.

  Piper tried to argue, but Quinn was unyielding and soon she was sitting across the fire from a taciturn man who barely glanced at her and answered all her questions with grunts.

  He didn’t seem any happier to get left behind with her as she was to be left behind. Damn Quinn’s stupid chivalry. And Lachlan had left her behind too. She was sinking into a new low, and considered finding a way to sneak away from Redmond.

  “Dinna try it, lass,” he said, his voice surprisingly friendly when he used entire sentences.

  “Oh my God, do you damned Highlanders read minds?” she cried.

  Redmond merely grunted out a short laugh and went back to ignoring her. She tried to ignore him back, but he seemed to have a rash of some sort and whenever she managed to forget about him by staring into the flames, he started up a new round of scratching, jarring her out of her lonely misery. When he got up to inspect the perimeter, she was glad for the few minutes of respite from fingernails digging into hairy flesh.

  A gust of wind blew up her skirts, and she was sorry she hadn’t worn all the proper undergarments. At least they would have kept her warm.

  The few minutes dragged out, and she began to get anxious for Redmond’s return. She stood in a low crouch and peered out into the trees, but saw nothing but darkness and trees.

  If she went to look for him, he’d think she was trying to sneak off, she could tell he was the suspicious sort. She sat back down, pulling her shawl up under her chin and scooting closer to the fire.

  When a few more long minutes passed, she was seriously worried and quietly called out his name. She heard a scuffle behind her, then one of Redmond’s grunts. But it wasn’t a conversational grunt like what she had grown used to. This was definitely a grunt of pain. A crashing thud, and the sound of crunching leaves, as if something heavy hit the ground. Something Redmond sized.

  She stood up and hissed his name again, seconds from screaming at the top of her lungs or bolting in the opposite direction. A small, dark haired woman stepped out from the brush and smiled at Piper.

  “‘Tis a pleasure to make yer acquaintance at last,” she said, wiping a bloody blade against the bark of the nearest tree.

  Piper blinked. It was like looking into a slightly distorted mirror. Her legs gave out and she sat down hard.

  Here was Daria, at last.

  Chapter 17

  Pietro rode beside Quinn, feeling like himself for the first time in days. The pendant that Piper slipped over his head was still working to drain away his illness and every moment that passed, he grew stronger. He wanted to let loose with an American style yeehaw, but one glance at Quinn’s drawn face and he kept his mouth shut.

  They pulled up at the edge of the forest closest to the castle and surveyed the scene. Men were swarming the back courtyard, a steady stream going back and forth into the stables, all of them armed to the teeth as far as they could see at this distance.

  There was no glimpse of Ferguson red in the sea of men below and Pietro looked to Quinn, wondering if that was a good or bad sign. Quinn shook his head at Pietro’s stolen kilt.

  “Ye two must be fated to be together,” he said scornfully. “I canna imagine how ye got her out of there otherwise.”

  Pietro laughed. Disguising himself as a Glen had been a brilliant idea. Hooves thundered behind them and they turned to find Lachlan riding up, another man at his side. Everything was looking up, they were going to settle this once and for all.

  “Thank God ye have no’ gone in yet,” Quinn said, nodding at the castle.

  “Aye, I came across Dougall before I reached the gate, with news that things were awry.” He frowned at Pietro. “And ye are to thank for that, I suppose?” he asked. His expression softened. “Are ye well? Piper was worried for ye.”

  Pietro patted the amulet under his shirt and assured him he was much better. “I didn’t know what else to do,” he said, his only explanation for mucking things up so badly. “I had to get her out of there.”

  “That ye did,” Lachlan said. He sighed heavily when he saw the sheer number of men gathering in the courtyard. He put his hand on Pietro’s shoulder, his expression serious. “We will surely lose in a fight, if it comes to it,” he said. “Is the lass close by where ye might fetch her? If we show her father that she is well and with me, we can hope he lets her go peacefully.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” Pietro bristled at the suggestion of riding in with Bella as if she were a peace offering or a pawn. His harsh tone caused his horse to shy, and Quinn reached out to settle it.

  “We willna let him take her back,” he said, looking to Lachlan for reassurance of his claim.

  Lachlan nodded once. “Ye have my word. ’Tis of great importance to me as well that we dinna lose her, aye?”

  Pietro remembered the looks that had passed between Piper and Lachlan the last time they were all together. He knew that Lachlan believed Piper’s safety, her very existence, depended on Bella staying with him.

  It killed him to have to tell her she would have to go back, even temporarily, but he trusted Lachlan’s word. If it came to it, they would fight. Looking at the number of men gathered in the courtyard of the castle, compared to the handful of Ferguson men, he sincerely hoped Tavish Glen would listen to reason. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He would kill a dozen men to keep Bella.

  “How far away have ye hidden her?” Quinn asked, shaking him out of his disturbed thoughts.

  He jumped in his saddle, once again upsetting his horse. He needed to settle down. “Not far,” he said. “I can have her back here very soon.”

  Lachlan’s face had turned worried while they were hashing out whether or not he would go get Bella out of hiding. He appeared to be counting heads.

  “Who is with Piper?” he asked, looking wildly over his men. “Have ye only left one man behind with her?” He sounded frantic.

  “Aye. Redmond has stayed back with her, Lachlan. What’s the matter?” Quinn asked, clearly not understanding his brother’s sudden upset.

  Pietro wasn’t sure what it was either. Their little camp seemed a safe enough way into the woods and Redmond was capable.

  Lachlan swore. “I must go,” he said, downright crazed now. “Get the lass and meet back here,” he said roughly, already turning his horse and whipping it hell bent back toward the camp.

  The remaining men stared at one another for a moment, not sure what had come over their laird. Pietro did what he was ordered, and took off for Bella’s hiding place.

  He got off his horse a few yards from where he’d left her and whistled low, trying his best to do the bird call she’d shown him. She’d been so excited about having a secret signal that he’d been happy to oblige her.

  Seconds later she emerged from behind the rock outcropping and smiled, a few leaves clinging to her dress. He knew time was of the essence but he scooped her off her feet and twirled her around, planting a kiss right on her laughing mouth.

  “Ye got us a horse,” she cried, delighted. “And ye look better. Ye look verra well, in fact.”

  He pulled the gold pendant from under his shirt and showed it to her. “Piper and Lachlan have returned,” he said.

  As
he suspected, her face fell. She barely glanced at the pendant and walked away from him, back behind the boulders. “I know what ye are going to say,” she said, tears already welling up in her eyes.

  It was like getting hit in the stomach. He would have done anything to never see her cry again.

  “They’ve given me their word that ye’ll not be returned to your father,” he said, gripping her shoulders and making her look at him. He leaned over and kissed her until her mouth yielded under his. Her lips parted and he pulled her body roughly to his. “They won’t take ye, I promise ye that,” he said breathlessly when he broke their tight grip on each other. “I swear it.”

  She dropped her head onto his chest and nodded. “I believe ye,” she said, catching her breath from their kiss. She leaned around him, still holding onto his waist, to look longingly at the horse. “And then we can go to Edinburgh?” she asked.

  He nodded and picked her up, carrying her to the horse.

  “I can walk,” she squealed. He tossed her into the saddle and got up behind her, urging the horse around.

  “I just like having my strength back,” he said happily.

  As they set out at a brisk trot, she reached around to get a look at his pendant. “More witchcraft,” she said. “I dinna know if I should fear ye or no’.”

  He frowned at the pendant in her hand, supposing there wasn’t a way around it. He’d been pushing the thought aside since he’d woken up on the floor of the stable, in the completely wrong time. He had to admit it must be something outside their realm that set him down there.

  “Ye should fear me,” he teased, deciding it didn’t matter how he’d ended up in this time, or how a bit of metal could have healed him. He’d found her, and that was good enough for him. “But not because of that. Because I am your lord and master.”

  “Bugger that,” she said and then blushed cherry red at her language. He howled with laughter. “See, that is why I canna be scared of ye,” she said. “Ye just laugh at me when I’m terrible.”

  “I must laugh at ye all the time, then,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head to let her know he didn’t mean it.

  Quinn and the others were now visible in the distance and she shrank against him. He kicked the horse to go faster, wrapping one arm around her to try to reassure her. When they pulled up, he saw that Lachlan hadn’t returned from his mad dash to make sure Piper was all right.

  “What do we do now?” he asked, still holding tight to Bella.

  “We wait,” Quinn said.

  Chapter 18

  Piper’s head was spinning, little motes of light faded in and out of her peripheral vision, and all she wanted to do was put her head between her knees. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Daria, afraid she would disappear or suddenly appear directly in front of her like in a horror movie.

  The monster, the witch, the source of all her fear, was a tiny Scotswoman who looked almost exactly like her. And she was still smiling. Piper’s hands curled into fists and she remembered, far too late, the knife she had strapped to her ankle.

  “Where’s the baby?” Piper demanded, able to find her voice at last. She was relieved that it came out strong and clear and she sat up straighter.

  Daria shrugged and sat down across from her. Piper thought her eyes flared unnaturally in the light of the fire. Get a grip, she told herself. Terror and rage grappled in Piper’s chest. She chose one, holding on tight and hoping she could make it through.

  “Where is the baby?” she gritted, brazenly leaning forward.

  “He’s safe, for now. I made him a little lean-to out of the wind.” Daria continued to smile.

  “You left him alone?” Piper found the strength to stand up, yearning to take her by the hair and smash her face into the fire.

  “Shall we go and see him?” she asked.

  It was bitterly cold out, and Piper was desperate to make sure Magnus was properly covered. Swallowing the acid taste in her mouth, Piper nodded meekly. She would get to Magnus, then decide how to fight.

  “Come along, then.” Daria turned and walked into the darkness.

  Piper followed her, shuffling her feet to try to leave tracks, brushing against branches to try to bend them, all while trying not to be obvious about it. Daria shook her head and laughed from the few feet ahead of her and Piper’s blood turned to ice. She had to clamp her frozen hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

  Daria knew what she was doing, but didn’t seem to care. The ruthless laugh echoed through the trees. Piper clung to thoughts of Magnus safe, of Lachlan finding her, of Daria falling into a deep, dark hole.

  They walked past poor Redmond and Piper forced herself to look, praying he might still be alive. She choked at the sight of him and started to cry. He was very much not alive and Piper feared his blank, staring eyes would haunt her all her days.

  “Ye’ll need to stop that,” Daria said, raising her hand.

  Piper’s eyes dried up and she stopped crying halfway through a sob, as if something dusty and brittle had reached into her and yanked it out. She clutched at her throat and struggled to breathe, gaping at Daria’s back. Barely able to see through her gasping panic over what had just been done to her, she crashed through the dense underbrush, afraid she was going to end up flat on her back or clotheslined by a low hanging branch if she was forced to keep up the reckless pace.

  Despite the darkness and the overgrown path, Daria moved surprisingly fast. Her skirts never snagged on the many low branches and her feet barely made a sound.

  Concentrate on Magnus, picture his little sweet face. As she imagined him sleeping peacefully on her lap, she began to feel steadier. Next she pictured Lachlan bursting through the trees, knocking Daria’s teeth clean out of her mouth with the butt of his axe. Yes, that was very soothing.

  “Is it no’ strange that we should be together at last, after all we’ve been through?” Daria asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  Piper gratefully felt her terror subside and her anger return. Did this cow expect her to make pleasant conversation? She started looking around on the ground for a branch big enough to bash Daria’s head in. Once again a low chuckle wafted back to her and chills washed up and down her spine.

  “Dinna be so angry with me, I only wanted to get to know ye. We are verra much alike, after all.”

  Piper bit her lip to keep from spitting out a retort that might get both her and Magnus killed. A trickle of doubt also made her pause.

  “Why do you think we’re alike?” she asked.

  She had been trying for so long to get answers from Daria’s diary, and now she realized she had the actual author of that book right in front of her. Daria slowed her pace until Piper was almost next to her. Too frightened to be any closer, Piper hung back.

  She turned around, her eyes flashing again in the moonlight. “It touches some, but not all,” she said. She smiled, making Piper want to hit her. “And some more than others. I have been waiting a long time for the likes of ye.”

  “What in the hell do you mean?” Piper cried, her fingers itching to grab hold of Daria’s throat and squeeze. Why did she have to be so cryptic?

  “I mean what I mean,” she said, seeming to find Piper unworthy of her time after all, and quickening her pace again.

  A painful lump rose in her throat and she would have cried if she’d been able to. She couldn’t believe she had dared to think she might get reasonable answers from this crazy woman. Her only hope now was to get Magnus back.

  They came to a clearing and stopped. Daria pointed to a thorny bush that had several large branches butted up against it, forming a tent like lean-to that thankfully kept most of the wind off the baby. Piper dropped to her knees and saw he was swaddled tightly in a modern blanket, and covered again with a rough wool shawl, piles of dried leaves packed all around him. He was sleeping fitfully, shuddering whenever a gust of wind blew overhead and rattled the branches.

  “Completely safe,” Daria said.

  “
You’re lucky an animal didn’t get him,” Piper spat, trying to reach out for him, but was unable. She saw her hands resting on her knees and wanted to lift them to pick him up, but couldn’t find the will to do it. It was as if her brain wasn’t firing properly. She turned and glared at Daria.

  “No animal could have gotten him, as ye can see for yerself,” she said smugly.

  Piper dropped her chin to her chest, the odd sensation of pent up tears burning behind her eyes. “Please, let me pick him up,” she begged.

  Daria shrugged and like that, Piper’s hands shot forward for the baby. She gathered him carefully, wrapping the shawl around the thin modern blanket, and held him tightly.

  She relaxed when she felt his small body was warm and he wriggled against her. She slowly eased herself down and leaned against the nearest tree, tucking Magnus into the crook of her arm and stroking his soft, chubby cheek. Her overtaxed heart finally slowed its frantic beat now that she knew he was alive. Daria raised an eyebrow and sat down a few feet away, steepling her fingers, unbearably calm.

  She kept her eyes trained on Daria, awash in an eerie sense of looking at herself in a nightmarish mirror. Her hair was carelessly wrapped into a ratty bun, wild wisps flying around her pale face. There was no way they weren’t related. The resemblance was uncanny. She didn’t look nearly as much like her own mother as she did Daria. Piper slowly tilted her head to the side, almost expecting Daria to do the same. They sat in silence until Piper couldn’t bear it any longer.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  Why did she lure them here, give her visions, kill her livestock, steal Magnus? Was it all just to have a friendly chat with a long lost family member?

  “I can see that, and ‘tis disappointing,” Daria agreed.

  “Is it because of Brian?” she asked, hoping the mention of Daria’s dead lover didn’t send her into a psychotic rage. “Because that was self defense,” she continued. “He was going to kill me.”

  She shook her head. “Ye couldna take Brian from me,” she said calmly, a faraway look in her eyes. “I see him when I choose.”

 

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