“Effective?” Niall asked.
“Yup.” Nicole’s eyes were on Erin. “We four Brouns were a support group. Cassie pulled us together so she was always sorta the leader. I say what’s on my mind so I called bullshit when I saw it. That meant trying to keep everyone open about their disabilities. Jackie was the wise one. Quiet, withdrawn, but always knows the right thing to say. And Erin, well, she always made sure we kept communicating, that we never lost touch. She had a thing about that even though she’s not a big talker by nature.”
Nicole grinned. “And though it pains me to say because I’m becoming a kick ass fighter, Erin was always our muscle if people started crap with us.”
“I find that hard to believe knowing you.” Niall sniggered. “Besides, she’s smaller than you.”
“I know, right.” Nicole chuckled and nodded at Erin. “But trust me, that chick could probably take you both down before you saw her coming.” She grinned at Niall. “I think it was you that told me powerful things come in small packages.”
“Aye.” He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in for another kiss before she could say anything else.
“Cassie went blind. You face going deaf,” Rònan said. “What’s Erin’s disability?”
Nicole’s lips didn’t leave Niall’s for a second but her telepathic words did float through his mind. “Figure the odds of me telling you that. Go find out for yourself.”
It seemed he wasn’t the only one who was curious because Darach had just plunked down beside Erin.
“Och,” Rònan muttered and stood. He was heading in that direction when Grant Hamilton intercepted him.
The arch-wizard lifted a brow. “A moment of yer time, lad?”
Rònan bit back a sigh. “Aye.”
He loved his uncle but he had poor timing. Regardless, he accepted a skin of whisky and sat with Grant before the fire. But he made sure to sit at an angle that allowed him to keep an eye on Erin and Darach. Out of curiosity, of course. Because even though she wasn’t here, he had to remain focused on Jackie and his oath to protect her.
As if he read his mind, Grant led out with that very thought. “Have ye had another vision of Jackie?” His eyes went to the child sleeping beneath the blankets nearby. “The wee Bruce seems safe enough for now but still, where’s yer mind at, lad?”
Rònan knew what Grant thought. That if Jackie made contact, he would abandon the king to fulfill his oath to the woman who had come to him in his darkest hour. Though frustrated, he understood his uncle's concern mainly because he understood his own nature. How fiercely loyal he could be, especially to someone who had come to his aid like Jackie had.
He was half dragon.
Half beast.
He was also half MacLeod and half MacLomain.
But what should probably mean the most and leave no doubt about his unwavering devotion to Robert the Bruce was Rònan’s new title, Laird MacLeod. Yet some might question if he took his position as seriously as he should...as they hoped he would.
“I will protect the wee Bruce before all else,” Rònan said, not obediently but firmly as he met Grant’s eyes. “Jackie hasnae come to me again. But if she does, I will let ye know.” He frowned. “She wasnae in New Hampshire, yet I dinnae sense harm around her. Have ye any idea where she might be?”
“Nay.” Grant’s eyes never left his. There was a slight hitch in his voice that he’d never heard before. “I sense nothing.”
Grant was powerful so under normal circumstances that should be a good thing.
Yet he got the impression it was not.
“When and if ye do sense something, tell me what ye want me to do,” Rònan said.
“Aye, lad,” Grant said softly.
For all his reassurances, they both knew Rònan was merely trying to convince himself he would do one thing when he’d likely do another. He would go to Jackie if she reached out. Yes, he’d spent his life training to face the evil that might someday be thrust upon the future King of Scotland. That was his duty. His calling. Yet deep down, he would never let a lass suffer in the Celtic Otherworld. Not after she somehow saved him. Because she had. His light in eternal darkness.
So though he had been trained to protect the king, he had become a liability.
A false hope some might say.
And both he and Grant knew it.
Hell, likely all of the Next Generation knew it.
Yet Grant's next words led him to believe that though he wanted Robert the Bruce protected, he also remained concerned about the Broun/MacLomain connection. Then again, igniting the power of the ring through love worked toward such a goal.
“Both horses are here,” Grant murmured. “Tosha and Eara.” His eyes went to Rònan. “Why did you not ride Eara? She is connected to Jackie.”
“The storm.” Rònan shrugged. “Darach took Eara. I rode Bradon’s horse.”
“’Tis not good if ye’ve a true need to find yer lass,” Grant murmured.
“I’ve a need to find her,” Rònan assured. “But the horses seemed to have a mind of their own.” His eyes stayed on Grant. “And we both know that evil finally found its way to the twenty-first century. To the Colonial. So great and thorough was it that only our last hope saw us…”
“Shh,” Grant bit out as his eyes shot to Darach. “Say no more.”
They both knew that if the old oak's magic had become a part of this, then they were closer to the end than anyone wanted to admit. And his son, Darach, like Rònan, was their last hope to fight this evil.
And the enemy would only become more vicious.
“Rònan,” Erin whispered.
His eyes shot from the burning fire in the center of the cave to Erin. It sounded like she was right here but she still sat next to Darach. He frowned. As if she sensed his confusion, her eyes met his.
The fire flared and sparks shot up nearly a hundred feet.
“Och,” Grant muttered. “Ye need to choose yer battles and choose them wisely, lad. For a lass like that isnae one that can be ignored.”
What did he mean by that? Before he could ask, his uncle vanished. So did everyone else in the cave. The only one left was Erin. Her arms hung loosely over bent knees and she stared at the fire. Was he dreaming? Was this real?
Though he stood and called out her name, the flames only grew taller. More vicious. But fire didn’t scare him. Rather it was his friend. Though it flared at him, he headed in her direction. Even as the flames crawled up his calves, he felt no pain. The interesting thing, however? He had no power over it like he usually did.
Yet he sensed no evil.
He had nearly reached Erin when her gaze again met his. Shocked, he realized that fire didn’t just reflect in her eyes but actually burned within them.
“What’s the matter with you?” she said, frowning.
Rònan blinked several times. Not only was the fire gone from her eyes but everyone had returned to the cave just as they had been before. Nobody had moved except him. Just like in his vision, he stood in front of her.
“Are you well, Cousin?” Darach asked.
Was he? He had no bloody clue. When he glanced back, he discovered Grant still sat where he’d left him. The arch wizard’s eyes narrowed as though he knew precisely what had just happened.
While tempted to question his uncle further, Rònan decided he’d prefer to stay here and investigate. So he sat down next to Erin, his frown still in place. “Have you a love for fire, lass?”
Her brows flew together. “Come again?”
“Every Broun is a witch but ‘tis not always clear where their magic lies,” he explained. “I thought mayhap you might have already figured yours out.”
“Listen, I’m not in the mood for this right now, okay?” She kept frowning. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that everything Nicole and Jackie said is true.” Her eyes flickered to his plaid before she sighed. “Believing in magic, witches and wizards is gonna take time. Never mind that I might possess magic.”<
br />
“And dragon-shifters,” Darach reminded gently, his eyes on Rònan. “You need to believe in them as well.”
“Right.” Erin swallowed and he swore she shifted a little closer to his cousin before her eyes met Rònan’s again. “Just learned about that before you headed this way.”
Rònan narrowed his eyes. Had he seen that vision of her because she’d just learned what he was? Though tempted to further explore the possibility, he wasn’t overly fond of her eying him the way she was. He was used to lasses adoring him, not looking at him with a mix of wariness, distrust and mayhap a wee bit of disgust.
He much preferred the flicker of lust he caught in her eyes back in New Hampshire. Better yet, the scent of it.
“I willnae hurt you, lass,” he said softly.
Erin offered no response and her eyes didn’t warm any. Rònan ground his jaw, surprised to feel a flare of anger. It seemed the dragon within didn’t like her contempt either.
Darach came to his defense. “Rònan would never hurt a lass.” He shrugged and winked. “Outside of the evil one we face.”
“So it’s all true.” Erin’s eyes went from the wee Bruce to Darach. “You and your cousins are trying to protect the future King of Scotland from an evil bitch named Brae Stewart and her dark Laird, who’s only appeared as a massive black cloud so far.” Then her eyes went to Rònan. “A cloud that brought you to the Celtic Otherworld and did things to you that you don’t remember. It was there that you supposedly saw Jackie.”
“Aye.” Rònan nodded. “’Twas because of her that I made it through the darkness.”
Nicole and Niall joined them as well as Logan, the current MacLomain Laird.
“Move over,” Nicole said, plunking down between him and Erin. When he scowled at her, she shrugged and spoke telepathically. “Eye on the ball, buddy. Jackie’s meant for you, not Erin, remember?”
So they assumed.
Guilt flared at his traitorous thoughts. Rònan scowled more fiercely and sat down on a rock beside Niall. His cousin and closest friend eyed him with amusement. “Ye seem to be lacking yer usual humor, lad.”
“Ye cannae really blame him,” Logan said. “He set off to find one lass but came back with another.”
Their words were tempered with magic so they would not reach Erin’s ears. Even so, though Nicole and Erin were chatting, the men continued their conversation telepathically.
“It seems all these Broun lassies are bonnie, aye?” Niall prodded, knowing full well Rònan was disgruntled because he was attracted to Erin when he was set to save Jackie.
“We dinnae know with any certainty who yer meant for, Rònan,” Logan said before his eyes went to Darach. “Or you for that matter.”
“Ye and Jackie spent time together in the twenty-first century,” Niall reminded Darach. “How was it betwixt ye?”
“You know damn well how it was. Nothing but lusty stares between them,” Nicole cut in and frowned. “Now stop talking telepathically until Erin knows how to join in. It’s rude.”
“’Tis just habit, lass,” Rònan said.
“What’s up with you and habits?” Erin said, eyes on Rònan.
Everyone looked at her.
“Rònan started on me back in New Hampshire about habits.” Erin scowled. “Now he’s talking about them again.”
Nicole bit the corner of her lip. “He didn’t say anything…”
When she trailed off, Rònan finished her sentence. “Aloud. I didnae say anything aloud.”
“I think she can hear ye speak within the mind, Rònan,” Logan said. “Say something else.”
Rònan shrugged and asked something he remained curious about as he looked at her. “Why is turning that stick of fire on and off one of your habits?”
Her pupil’s flared and she came to her feet. “How the hell did I just hear you talk but I didn’t see your lips move?”
“It’s okay, Erin.” Nicole stood. “Everyone can speak telepathically. Though, for some reason, you can only hear Rònan right now.”
Erin’s brows drew down. “Bullshit.”
“I get your reservations but it’s true,” Nicole said. “He just asked about your obsession with lighters, right?”
Erin’s expression went blank. Something she did to hide her feelings. He had noticed that early on. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah you do.” Nicole gave her a knowing look and squeezed her hand. “And while I totally respect your privacy, there are a lot of things you’re gonna have to get used to here. Magic being at the top of the list.”
Erin pulled her hand away. Other than that, she showed no signs of distress. Her face remained emotionless. He wondered what had happened to her that she’d perfected such a look. Because something had happened. Something that made her guard herself against the world.
Something he was desperate to figure out.
Rònan clenched his jaw, frustrated with himself. He preferred open, fiery, lusty women who said what they thought and enjoyed him as much as he enjoyed them. Not lasses like Erin who wanted nothing to do with life and all it offered.
“I won’t get used to magic or anything else with Rònan around,” whispered through his mind.
It was Erin speaking. But when he looked at her, she was focused on Nicole. She had no idea he could hear her thoughts. Or at least the ones directed at him.
She stopped talking to Nicole when Grant joined them. His uncle’s eyes were kind when they met Erin’s. “Might I have a word alone with you, lass?”
After she nodded and went with him, Rònan spoke aloud. “Are any of you hearing Erin’s thoughts?”
Everyone shook their head. Nicole looked perplexed as she joined him. “So you obviously can, eh?”
“Aye, the ones directed at me.”
“And she can hear yours,” Nicole murmured, giving him a sly look. “Interesting.”
Now Nicole was much more his type with her open attitude and frank opinions.
“I dinnae think Erin much likes the bond we might be forming,” he muttered. “And I dinnae like that I cannae make sense of it.”
“Well, worry naught, Cousin,” Darach said. “Erin has agreed to stick by me whilst in this century so that you might keep your oath to protect Jackie.”
Nicole snorted.
Niall chuckled.
Logan smirked.
Rònan crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that right?”
“Aye.” Darach shrugged. “’Tis the verra least I can do for you considering all you went through in the Celtic Otherworld.”
Rònan rubbed his chin and considered Darach. His cousin had been very obvious about his initial desire for Logan’s lass, Cassie and managed to develop a cozy enough friendship with Nicole before she arrived here. Then there was the rumored attraction betwixt him and Jackie. Now he was determined to stick close to Erin.
“You dinnae have any issues finding lasses here in Scotland,” Rònan remarked. “Yet you cannae seem to get enough of our futuristic Brouns.”
“Och, ‘tis just a way for Darach to keep evading his Da and becoming the new Hamilton chieftain,” Niall said.
“Take it easy, guys,” Nicole interjected. “Now’s not the time to sweat who matches up with who.” She nudged Rònan’s shoulder. “Besides, what do you care? It seems to me Darach’s helping you out. I mean seriously, a few days ago you were hell bent on getting to Jackie and don’t tell me it was just because you were determined to protect her.”
Before he could speak, she kept going. “Jaqueline this. Jaqueline that. Such a bonnie lass you were set to protect and damn if you didn’t fly outta here faster than hay going up in flames when you heard Darach was flirting with her.”
“I wasnae flirting,” Darach defended. “For the most part.”
“Hay going up in flames,” Rònan said softly, shooting Nicole a quizzical look as he recalled what he had so recently warned Erin about with her ‘lighter’ back at the barn. “Why would you use such a comp
arison?”
“I dunno.” Nicole shrugged, a little confused. “It just popped into my head.”
Things just seemed to be getting odder and odder.
Too many strange coincidences.
“Why does she carry that lighter?” he asked. “Why does she flick it on and off like she does?”
Nicole’s eyes stayed with his as she debated on whether or not to answer.
“Please,” he said. “I need to know.”
“She should tell you.”
“But she willnae. So you must.”
Nicole sighed and started shaking her head when Niall said, “Please, lass. If my cousin thinks ‘tis important then ‘tis.”
Nicole’s eyes met Niall’s for a long moment before she nodded. “Okay.” Her gaze went to Rònan’s and her voice softened. “She flicks the lighter on and off to remind herself how damaging fire can be. It’s her way of controlling the flame…of feeling in control…”
When she trailed off, Rònan murmured, “Is that all?”
“No,” Nicole whispered. “It’s also her way of remembering her dad the way she last saw him.” Her eyes met Rònan’s. “Engulfed in flames.”
Chapter Three
“I DON’T SEE what the big deal is about me wearing this ring,” Erin mumbled.
“’Tis not safe hanging around your neck such as it is,” Grant said. “It could too easily be lost.”
“This chain is pretty strong,” she tried to reassure yet again. “It’s not going anywhere.”
“But it will, lass. Easier than you might think.” The chain suddenly fell but he caught it. “See?”
“Don’t mind him,” an attractive older woman said as she joined them. “My husband tends to take matters into his own hands on occasion.” Her eyes fell to the chain he held. “Literally.” She held out her hand to Erin. “I’m Sheila. A Broun originally from the twenty-first century.”
Ah, this was one of Leslie’s cousins who had traveled back in time early last year. Regrettably, time went by far quicker here and while Leslie was pushing thirty, her cousins who stayed with the Next Generation of MacLomains in the medieval period were in their fifties. Something about the past trying to catch up with the future.
Oath of a Scottish Warrior Page 3
