A Highlander of Her Own

by Melissa Mayhue

  Her vision tunneled on him as she fought to catch her breath, searching every exposed inch of him for injury. Her focus was so intent, she barely noticed when Alycie was lifted up next to her.

  Only Alycie’s strangled “Holy Mother” drew her attention from Caden. The woman’s face had drained of all color.

  Ellie allowed her eyes to track the direction of Alycie’s gaze and found the source of their dread.

  Steafan was chained to a pole in the center of a massive pit.

  As she watched, the onlookers cheered and two enormous mastiff-looking dogs were brought forward and released into the pit with Steafan. His clawing, panic-stricken attempts to free his hand from the manacle that bound him sickened her.

  “Stop it. Stop it now, MacNab.” Caden’s voice was barely more than a whisper as he faced the monster who still held Ellie’s arm. “You must…” The words died in Caden’s throat when his eyes met Ellie’s.

  “Pardon, yer lairdship, but this is hardly fit sport for a lady’s eyes.” Dair somehow managed to control his tone, relaying none of the alarm he must have felt at his brother’s predicament.

  “I see no ladies,” the laird responded. “But I fancy I’ll have quite the appetite for what I do see after our sport here is finished.” He pulled Ellie’s arm to his mouth and ran his tongue from her wrist to the inside of her elbow. “Are you ready to turn over yer silver now, MacAlister?”

  “I’ll see you dead by my own hands for what you do, MacNab,” Caden growled, his eyes sparking with hatred.

  Ellie fought down the revulsion she felt and stroked a fingertip down the monster’s cheek, sliding her arm from his grasp and moving behind his chair. “Let me work on that appetite, your lairdship. I’ll help you relax while you enjoy your games.”

  She placed her hands on his head, threading her fingers into the greasy clumps of his hair and massaged. At his sigh, she transferred her attention down to the pit and the man struggling there.

  Opening herself to the thoughts of the beasts in the pit was as gruesome as watching them circle Steafan, darting in to nip at his legs while he screamed and kicked. These creatures were trained to kill. They were crazed with hunger and a thirst for human blood.

  Still, she had to try. Steafan might be a lying toady, but even he didn’t deserve something this terrible.

  She communicated with her dogs easily enough. There should be no reason she couldn’t use that same skill with these animals.

  Leave the Hu-man alone, she ordered silently, intentionally using the same inflection she’d heard her dogs use. The larger female swung her muzzle around, as if searching for the source of the noise invading her mind, but with a shake of her head, she quickly turned back to her prey, her need for the kill overriding all else.

  Ellie sensed this was the dominant female, the one she needed to convince.

  Leave the Hu-man alone, she repeated more forcefully, directing all her attention to that animal.

  A snarl of derision was her only answer.

  “You want to play rough? We’ll play rough.” Ellie muttered.

  “That we will, lass, if it’s what you want,” the old laird grunted, his eyes closing with pleasure as she continued to massage his head.

  Something. She needed to think of something that would frighten the animal so much she would stop her attack.

  As she tried to come up with any idea, she watched the scene below in horror. The animals leaped at Steafan. He raised an arm to protect his face and the alpha female closed her jaws around it as the other dog latched onto his leg, biting, tearing into his flesh.

  Now! Whatever she did, it had to be now.

  The memory of Missy’s fear in the graveyard flashed through her mind. That was it! If she’d been able to send those sounds and pictures to Missy, she could do the same here. It was simply a matter of combining sounds and pictures into thought. But it would have to be truly earth-shattering sounds and pictures to distract these beasts.

  What sounds bothered normal dogs?

  Ellie pictured row after row of speeding fire trucks, lights blazing, racing directly at her. She added the sirens, thousands of them, pitching the sound as high and as loud as she could possibly imagine. Faster, louder, bigger.

  Then she transferred the thoughts to the minds of the beasts.

  The animals let go immediately, dropping to the ground, howling.

  The men watching went silent.

  “What’s wrong with the damned beasts?” MacNab demanded, sitting up in his chair, dragging Ellie forward into the wood of the back. “Bring out the other pair!” he ordered before lolling his head back against Ellie’s breasts.

  She froze, her mind a momentary blank. The mind trick had worked on the first two dogs, but she didn’t know if she was strong enough to hold off four.

  Once again she forced herself to smile and massage her fingers through the muck of his hair, promising herself that if even one louse crawled out of that slime and onto her skin, she’d find a way to make the bastard pay for it. Big-time.

  “Before the fresh beasts arrive, I’ll give you one last chance, MacAlister. Will you give me the location of yer silver now?” MacNab kept his eyes closed, pressing his head into Ellie’s breasts, rubbing from side to side.

  “The only thing yer ever getting from me, MacNab, is yer own death.” Caden strained at the ropes, leaning as far toward the laird as possible.

  MacNab sighed. “Well, then, lad, since I’ve no need for that, I suppose I’ve no more need for you. Yer friend down there tells me you had the silver the morning we captured you. It’s more work than I wanted, but we’ll scour yer path from yer last camp to the place we trapped you. We’ll find that silver, even without yer help.” He lifted his hand and motioned to one of his men. “Take him to the pit and chain him there with his friend.”

  The hand MacNab held aloft fisted onto Ellie’s shift, pulling her toward him as his men passed by to take Caden away.

  Her mind raced as she leaned in toward his face. She had to think of something. Quickly.

  MacNab’s eyes were little beads of greedy desire. He opened his mouth and his foul breath wafted up, stinging her nostrils just before he latched onto one of her breasts, his tongue wet against the material of her shift.

  When all hell broke loose around her, it only seemed fitting she should take advantage of it.

  When he’d seen Baby outside MacNab’s hideout, Caden had been convinced the animal hadn’t understood his instructions to go for help. Perhaps he’d been mistaken and the animal had simply followed to see where to bring that help.

  None of that mattered right now. How Ellie had gotten here, or why, was beyond Caden’s reasoning. He knew only that she was here and in danger. Rational thought beyond that one point wasn’t within his power any longer.

  A haze of red fury clouded his mind, his only desire to get his hands on MacNab’s throat and squeeze the very life from his body. Caden watched as the blighted bastard’s mouth came down on Ellie’s breast. She lifted one hand toward the sky and arched into him.

  The red haze around Caden exploded.

  The growl emanating from the depths of his soul was more animal than man but he could no more control the sound than he could stop his body from leaping toward MacNab the moment the ropes were lifted.

  He surged from his chair, pulling at the arms attempting to hold him back. The elbow to his face wouldn’t have stopped him, any more than the hands grabbing at him. His anger was too great to be controlled by mere men.

  But the grim smile on Ellie’s face, that brought him up short.

  He suddenly felt as if he watched what happened from somewhere outside his body. Time slowed down, stretched out.

  From somewhere she’d gotten her hands on a long, thin dagger, so much like the one he’d given Sallie years ago he would swear it to be the very same one. And she held it poised at MacNab’s throat.

  Caden watched as the man’s eyes narrowed and tiny beads of sweat broke out across his
forehead.

  Dair had disarmed the guard closest to him. He carried a sword in hands now and at least one of the men was down as he made his way toward them.

  None of MacNab’s people moved, all of them waiting to see how the drama on the dais would play out.

  “You tell those men to get their hands off Caden and back away from him. Now.” Ellie tightened her hold on MacNab’s hair, pulling his head closer, into the blade.

  “‘Caden,’ is it? Are you his woman, then?”

  “Now,” Ellie repeated through clenched teeth, ignoring the question. “Or I slice you a new opening.”

  “Yer no serious.” MacNab’s hand slid from his hold on Ellie’s shift to his own lap.

  “Oh, I’m serious as a heart attack, mister. Now do as I say or you die.”

  “I’ve no plans to be dying this day,” he answered, his eyes narrowing as he stared out at his men.

  The twitch of MacNab’s shoulder was the only outward sign.

  Caden shouted out her name in warning, but it was too late. MacNab’s stick shot up, catching Ellie in the forehead, knocking her head back, loosening her hold on him as a wicked dagger flashed up in his other hand.

  Caden clearly heard the ring of metal as Dair advanced, but he couldn’t turn to follow the knight’s progress. With an almost superhuman effort, he broke free of the men holding him and surged across the narrow space separating him from MacNab, his arms outstretched, reaching.

  He hardly felt the metal of MacNab’s weapon slice across the arm he threw out to deflect the weapon’s path. Closing his fingers over Ellie’s, he jerked her hand hard, pulling her dagger up and into MacNab’s throat, cutting through the skin and bone under the blade they held jointly.

  MacNab’s eyes rolled up and a dark red line formed on his neck, but Caden didn’t have time to worry about the fake laird. It was the shock on Ellie’s face and the swelling pink knot on her forehead that had his concern.

  He kicked the arm of MacNab’s chair, sending it tipping over the side of the dais. The brigand’s body landed with a thud, his head flopping back from his body as a pool of blood formed around him.

  Ellie stared at the body, her eyes huge round saucers.

  “Oh, shit,” she breathed.

  “Look at me.” Caden grabbed her shoulders, giving her a little shake when she wouldn’t look away from the body. “Look. At. Me.”

  Slowly her head swiveled his direction, her eyes still wild. She gazed down at the knife still clutched in her fist, the blade red with the brigand’s blood. “Holy freakin’ shit. What did I do?”

  “You dinna do anything.” Caden grasped her chin and gently forced her face back up to meet his gaze. “Do you hear me? I did that. No you.” He wouldn’t have that on her conscience. He’d kill the fiend a thousand times over again if given the chance, especially since it had been a matter of MacNab’s life or Ellie’s. Still, he wouldn’t have her blaming herself for the act.

  “Let go of me.”

  “Ellie, dinna do this to yerself. You dinna…”

  “Let go!” she shouted, pulling away and dropping to her knees.

  He couldn’t stand that she blamed herself for the villain’s death. He was fully prepared to shoulder the responsibility. He was used to that. But her look of horror as she pushed away from him ripped into his very soul.

  He dropped to his own knees in front of her, reaching out to grasp her shoulders. “Ellie, listen to me.” Caden leaned close, horrified at the fear he saw in her eyes.

  She tried to shove his hands away but he was having none of that.

  Instead he pulled her closer. “Speak to me. What is it?” he demanded.

  In response, she promptly emptied the contents of her stomach down the front of him.

  Twenty-six

  “Try to sleep, Cousin. You’ve no any reason to think she’s come to harm. And even if she had, yer pacing about like a caged beast will give her no aid.”

  Colin was right, of course, but that knowledge didn’t help Blane in the least. He felt as helpless as the caged beast Colin compared him to, and he would until Catriona showed up at the window just before sunrise and he could see with his own two eyes she was unharmed.

  “You’ll want yer rest, whatever happens.”

  Blane stopped his pacing to meet his cousin’s brilliant blue gaze; he was the only one of Rosalyn’s children to get her eyes, the MacKiernan eyes.

  “Whatever happens?” he echoed.

  “Aye.” Colin remained motionless in the shadowed corner. “I’ve fashed myself over what’s become of Dair long enough. I intend to have my answers from the next guard who walks through that door.”

  Blane nodded slowly, as if his body acknowledged what his mind could not. The time had come to fight. “We try to escape?”

  A low, sinister chuckle was his response. “You do. I’m no leaving until I’ve my answers about Dair.”

  Blane stared into the dark corner where Colin lay, hoping to catch some glimmer of the young man’s emotions, but nothing betrayed his cousin’s thoughts beyond what he had shared.

  “Verra well.” Blane slid down against the walls of his own corner, leaning his head back against the cold stone. He closed his eyes and wondered how he’d ever manage to pass a night as long as this one promised to be.

  And then he heard the noise outside their door.

  The quiet scrape of a footfall on gravel followed by the unmistakable sound of a key fitting into the lock.

  Though he’d opened his eyes at the first sound, Colin was already at the door, his poised figure highlighted in the moonlight filtering through the little window in the back wall of their cell.

  The door slowly opened, and in a blur of movement Colin had pinned the intruder to the wall.

  “What in the name of the Fae?” he grunted, stepping back from his captive.

  “Please. We must hurry.”

  “Catriona?” Blane couldn’t believe his ears. “I thought you said you’d no betray…”

  “It disna matter what I said. I’ve come to set you free. Now follow me.” The woman turned back to the door, her hand on the pull.

  “Wait!” Colin grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “What can you tell me of the fate of the knight I traveled here with?”

  Though she stood in the beam of light coming in the little window, Blane could see no movement as she answered, her entire form shrouded in the heavy hooded cloak she wore.

  “Nothing, I’m afraid. I’ve no seen yer friend.”

  “I can give you word of him.” The door swung wide, the opening filled with the man who spoke. “But not until you release the lady.”

  “They dinna hold me, Sim. I’ve come to set them free and I’ll no have you trying to stop me.”

  Blane stepped forward, putting his body solidly between Catriona and the intruder. It was lunacy on her part to think she could order the warrior about!

  “I’ve no desire to stop you. In fact, when I saw you sneak from yer room, I suspected I’d find you here. I’ve come to help you.”

  “And why would one of Wodeford’s guards help us escape?” Blane made no effort to hide the sarcasm in his question.

  “You could rot in this cell for all I care, MacKiernan. It’s my aunt I’ve come to help. And as to why?”

  The young man moved so quickly, Blane barely had time to react, grabbing onto his arm as the young man flipped Catriona’s hood from her head.

  “This is yer answer.”

  Catriona stood in the moonbeam, her head bowed. Blane reached out a shaking hand, placing his finger to her chin to lift her gaze to him. Though her beautiful face was a swollen mass of cuts and bruises, her eyes were determined and clear.

  “I’ll kill the bastard with my bare hands.” The growl came from somewhere deep inside him, propelled by a force he could understand no better than he could control it.

  She stopped him with a gentle hand to his chest, her touch calming the beast that raged in his soul.

 
“No. I’ve a much better way to get even with my brother. Here.” She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small cloth bag, which she handed to him. “This is yers. The loss of yer silver will wound Austyn far deeper than any physical injury ever could.”

  “You said you know what’s happened to the knight who traveled with me?” Colin stepped out of the shadows.

  “Aye, Maxwell was sent to carry Austyn’s demand for additional ransom for yer laird here. It’s to be delivered by the heir, riding alone to Wode Castle.”

  Blane’s stomach lurched at the news. “Then I canna go. I’ll no have Caden riding into Wodeford’s arms.”

  “It’s no a problem.” Colin swung the door open, a rare smile on his face. “We’ll catch up to Caden before he gets close to Wode Castle.”

  “But how? We’ve no idea which back roads he might travel.”

  “Trust me, Cousin. Now that I ken who it is that comes, I can feel for him.” Colin shrugged. “I’m no my mother’s son for naught. I’ll find him. Dinna fash yerself over that.”

  “Then we go.”

  Colin placed a hand against the door barring their way. “I say we eliminate Wodeford first. I’ve no a taste for a man whose heart is filled with vengeance to be trailing my steps.”

  Blane looked into Catriona’s face, her eyes pleading for words he did not want to speak. His cousin had the right of it. Alive, her brother would always be a concern for the MacKiernan. And yet he could not repay her trust with such an act.

  “No. We leave him alive.” As much as he personally would wish it otherwise.

  Colin tipped his head in acknowledgment. “As you say, my laird.”

  His cousin was right to doubt him. Still, he was the laird and it was his choice. That Colin conceded the point spoke of his loyalty.

  There was yet one matter to resolve.

  “And you?” Blane laid his hand on Catriona’s shoulder, once again gazing into her gentle eyes. “What will become of you and yer nephew once you’ve helped us escape?”

  “It’s no yer problem, Blane,” she answered softly. “We’ll find someplace to go. Somewhere we’ll be safe from Austyn.”