by Sandy James
Since Rebecca had retreated—probably to use the element of surprise—he would give her the chance to make the odds as even as possible.
This would be a fair fight.
His chance for justice might be forever lost. Without Helen’s backing, how would he be able to face Artair MacKay?
No.
Ian had made his decision. Rebecca was more important than revenge. He only hoped Helen wouldn’t kill him when Rebecca escaped.
“The game ends tonight,” he whispered.
“What did you say?” Helen demanded as she came to stand at his side.
He shook his head. “To what do I owe this pleasure, m’lady?”
“I told you, I have news.”
“Well then, share your news and be gone. As you see, I’m in the middle of my meal and wish to finish it before my meat grows cold.” When he looked down at what remained of their dinners, he noticed Rebecca’s knife was missing.
What a smart woman she was, and damn, if he’d never considered that she could use it against him. In that moment of recognition, he knew she cared for him. She could have easily slit his throat. After kidnapping her, it would be no less than he deserved.
Helen clucked her tongue. “Ever disrespectful, aren’t you, Ian? After all I offer you—”
He snorted, a habit he shared with Rebecca. Seemed whenever she laughed, a small snort would slip out. Worse, whenever she wanted to let him know just how displeased she was with him, she’d do the same.
Such a strange sound from such a beautiful woman.
Helen knit her brows. “What’s wrong with you? It’s like you’re not hearing a word I say.”
“Oh, I heard. I’m supposed to be grateful for all you offer me.” He gave his head a small shake. “I’ve yet to see any of these offerings.”
“You’re alive. You’re in your own castle and holding Rebecca hostage.” A sly smile crossed her face. “Have you seduced her yet, Ian? Have you cuckolded your enemy? Better yet, have you stolen her away from her husband? I want him to know true pain before he dies.”
Ian caught Rebecca’s movements and tried to distract Helen. “Nay. The lass will not be seduced.”
“Then try harder—rape her if you have to. I want Artair MacKay to suffer. I want Rebecca to suffer too.”
“Too bad you got the wrong Amazon.” The knife was pressed between Helen’s shoulder blades before the goddess had a chance to react.
“Wrong Amazon?” Ian’s thoughts spun. “What are you talking about?”
The woman he’d thought was Rebecca marched Helen toward one of the chairs. She had to know she couldn’t kill Helen, but that knife could do a lot of temporary damage.
He couldn’t make himself move. His mind was in turmoil. “You’re not Rebecca MacKay?”
“Get me something to tie her up with,” she replied.
“Answer me!” His voice echoed off the tall walls.
This woman he cared for—the one he was risking everything for—had lied to him. His conscience shouted that she’d had every right to fool him, yet his heart felt betrayed.
He should have known the moment he’d realized she’d been a virgin. A man like Artair MacKay would never have left his wife unbedded.
“Are you Artair MacKay’s wife? Are you Rebecca?”
* * *
Sarita winced. “No, I’m not Earth, and I’m not married to Artair. I’m Sarita Neeraj, the Water Amazon.”
“Why did ye nae tell me?” His brogue always got thicker when he was emotional, and right now, he was clearly spitting mad.
She’d known he might not take the news well, yet she hadn’t expected to see him so red-faced. “I knew you wanted Rebecca. I was protecting myself and my sisters.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. His hand trembled. “After what we shared—”
Despite being held at knifepoint, Helen laughed, long and loud. “So you did seduce her, didn’t you?”
Ian narrowed his angry green eyes, but Sarita wasn’t sure if the gesture was meant for her or Helen. His face was filled with a fury that made her heart clench.
Now wasn’t the time for sentimentality. She had a job to do, damn it. Explanations, apologies and forgiveness would come later. Much later.
Sarita spared Ian having to answer. “I seduced him.”
“Aye, she did. Came to me like an evil succubus in the night.”
That remark stung. “I’m a succubus? You’re the one who started this damned game. You kidnapped me. You told me you wanted Artair dead. Then you wanted me to betray Artair and you wanted to let this bitch get my sisters. And you’re calling me names?”
“Hard to betray a husband you don’t have!”
Good goddess, this was a stupid argument. There were bigger things at stake here than either of their feelings. “We’ll talk about everything later. Just get me something to tie Helen up. I’d like nothing better than to kill her, but we all know I can’t.” She sighed and tried to find some control. “We’re getting out of here before she can hurt you.”
“We? Why would I go with you?” he snapped.
“Don’t be stupid. I’m not leaving you here with her. Let me protect you.”
“He can’t leave,” Helen said, her voice arrogant. “He’s pledged his loyalty to me. He has nowhere to go. Nor can you leave this castle.”
“I’ll find a way out, and I’ll take him to Avalon,” Sarita insisted. “The Amazons can protect him. I’ll protect him.” Tired of waiting, she gave Ian one last chance, using the tone her Sentinels always employed when they wanted no refusal. “I need some rope. Now.”
“Leave,” he said, his voice a command. “While you’ve got the chance, just go.”
“No. I’m getting you to my home, then I’m bringing my sisters back here so we can finally take care of Helen.”
“Go! Now!” Ian moved to her side and reached for her knife.
The blow was landed against her temple so quickly, Sarita never saw it coming. Lights flashed through her head as her knees buckled.
She sank against the cold stone, the knife clattering across the floor and out of her reach.
* * *
Ian bellowed his outrage when Helen whirled to slam her elbow against Rebecca’s head.
No, not Rebecca.
Sarita.
When she fell, her eyes closed and she lay still as a corpse. He gave Helen a hard shove to get her away from Sarita. Never had he struck a woman, but this was no mere woman. The instant she stepped out of the protective walls of his castle, she would be a goddess—an Ancient of great power. She would be able to reduce him to dust with a blink of her elegant blue eyes.
But right now, she was vulnerable.
Fearing for Sarita, he kept his attention on Helen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Old Ewan move to Sarita’s side and knew his love was in good hands. The old man could never stand violence against women. If Helen made a move on Sarita, she just might find a vengeful ghost launching himself at her.
“So the little bitch seduced you?” Helen pulled a jeweled dirk from the folds of her gown. “Duped you too, I’d say.”
“You were the one who sent her to me in the night,” he sneered. “’Twas the reason I believed her to be Rebecca. I captured the same woman who’d tortured me, the one I saw defeat the demon you had me set loose to lure Earth out of Avalon. This was your mistake.” Despite the situation, he couldn’t help smiling over the fool Sarita had made of Helen.
Until he realized she’d made a fool of him as well.
“It was the damned Aramaic,” Helen whined—something she did whenever she was trying to deflect blame for her own error. “I knew something about the spell wasn’t right.”
“Perhaps you’ll live long enough to learn from your mist
ake,” Ian chided.
Helen brandished her dirk. “I’ll celebrate her death when I drive this into her heart. She may not be Earth, but she’s an Amazon. One down, three to go.”
When she took a step toward Sarita, Ian blocked her path. “Don’t touch her.”
“You’re insane. She’s an Amazon. She has to die. You knew the plan all along.”
“You’ll not kill her.” He shoved her back hard.
After glaring at him for a few moments, she let a lazy smile fill her face. “Sweet Zeus. You fell in love with her, didn’t you? That’s why you’re standing here, begging me not to kill her.”
“Get out of my home!”
Helen’s mood changed in a heartbeat, and she lashed out at him with her weapon. He blocked the blow. She slammed her other fist into his ear.
For a woman, she packed a Highlander’s punch. His ear stung and a high-pitched whine drowned out most sound.
Before he could retaliate, Sile flew in from the kitchen, circling the ceiling in her ghost form. She swooped down in front of Helen, blocking her path to him. Then Sile let her true self show, screaming a banshee wail while her face aged, contorting into a grotesque corpse.
Helen didn’t bat an eye, simply walked through Sile’s shadowy form to face Ian again.
Ignoring both his pain and the annoying buzz in his ear, he went for the dirk Helen held. If he disarmed her he could hold her at bay until Sarita could escape.
Where he’d go after that, he had not a clue. Helen would kill him and send him to hell. Or back to limbo. Truth was, even if he survived he was a man with no country, no family and no one who cared whether he lived or died. Even Sarita had betrayed him.
Helen fought well, and she was able to keep the dirk from his grasp, inflicting several good cuts along his forearm and a particularly painful slice to his midsection. Someone had trained her well. Through the attack, she uttered words in a language he’d never heard, no doubt trying to break the Seior she’d used to shield dorcha àite.
Good. That would aid Sarita’s escape.
He glanced to her. White lights suddenly appeared, swirling around her like tiny stars.
The magicks around the castle had been broken.
As Sarita sat up, her dark eyes locked with his. In that moment, he knew he’d give his life to protect her.
“Ian...” Her body faded as the light intensified.
Her sisters were calling her home.
Chapter Ten
The world spun around Sarita, making her dizzy and queasy. She recognized the feeling from when her sisters had cast a spell to bring her and Gina back from the desert where they’d faced Sekhmet. Sparks of white light filled her vision.
She looked to Ian, her heart breaking. She’d never have the chance to explain her deception. Although he held Helen back, Sarita didn’t dare to hope he’d abandoned his plans for vengeance. Helen surely wasn’t on his side any longer, considering he’d cost Helen her best chance to kill an Amazon.
That thought made her smile until another realization hit.
She’d probably never see Ian again.
As the world around her faded, she stretched her hand out to him. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
Then there was a void. For a few moments, the world didn’t exist.
Cold dew touched her hands. Without opening her eyes, she tangled her fingers through the blades of grass, caressing the moisture and drawing strength from it. A familiar scent filled her nostrils.
Home.
“It worked. Thank God!” Gina said.
“Sarita? Are you okay?” Rebecca asked.
Opening her eyes, Sarita nodded. “I’m fine.”
She glanced up to see her three sisters holding hands as they encircled her. The last time Megan and Rebecca used the spell, they’d come through the ordeal looking as though they’d just weathered a hurricane. Having three Amazons casting the spell was evidently less draining. All of her sisters were their normal, beautiful selves—dressed in casual clothes.
“Thanks for getting me back.”
“Quite an outfit,” Megan said, dropping Gina and Rebecca’s hands to crouch. She ran her hand over the flowing skirt of the gown. “Where’d you get this?”
Sarita snorted at the redhead. “How much time do you have? ’Cause it’s a long story.”
Rebecca reached for Sarita and helped her up. “And we want to hear every word of it.” She embraced Sarita. “I’m glad you’re back, honey.”
“Glad to be back, Guardian.”
Gina pulled Sarita out of Rebecca’s hug. She gathered Sarita in her arms and squeezed the breath right out of her. “I’ve been worried sick. I tried and tried to get you to answer, but—”
Sarita hugged her closest sister just as hard. “We should all talk.”
“I missed you!” Gina’s thoughts came into Sarita’s mind.
“Missed you too, sis.”
When Gina finally turned her loose, Megan gave her a hug as well. Whether Sarita was the weakest Amazon or not, her sisters loved her. That love filled her and renewed her. They needed her as much as she needed them.
It was enough for now.
* * *
Goddess, it felt good to wear sweats again. After a long, hot bath, Sarita had found her favorite clothes draped over her bed. Beagan and Dolan, Avalon’s shapeshifting caretakers, were welcoming her home.
At least her cabin had been upgraded since her sisters married and were given houses by their patron goddesses. Sarita’s humble home was expanded to include a wonderful spa tub that she used often and a shower stall. She no longer had to traipse across the compound to the old communal shower room.
Avalon was finally updated for the twenty-first century.
She sat on her mattress and let Gina brush her hair before plaiting it into a braid. Megan had sprawled over the desk chair, and Rebecca leaned against the wall with arms folded over her breasts.
For a moment, Sarita imagined they were nothing more than sorority sisters sharing gossip about what each would be doing on her weekend date. Sometimes it was easy to forget exactly why the four women had been drawn together.
“Where were you?” Megan, as usual, got right to the point. Patience wasn’t a part of Fire’s personality.
“Scotland,” Sarita replied.
“Where in Scotland?” Megan pressed. “We had the goddesses send all of us there—even the guys—and we couldn’t find hide or hair of you.”
“Did you get Marbas?” Sarita asked.
“Yeah,” Rebecca replied. “He’s back in Tartarus. Kampe doesn’t know how he got loose to begin with.”
“Ian let him out.”
All three of her sisters gaped at her.
“Who’s Ian?” Rebecca asked.
While it might be fun to keep them hanging on her every word by drawing out the story, Sarita couldn’t torture them that way. Besides, Helen had to have been busy while she was away, and the sooner they went after her, the safer things would be.
“I’m confused,” Megan said, shifting her gaze between Rebecca and Sarita.
“So am I,” Gina added. “How about we start at the beginning?”
“Aye. A verra good idea.” Artair held the door to her cabin open.
Without waiting to be invited, he came in. Johann and Zach were right behind him. The size of the three men made the cabin suddenly seem far too small.
“We all need to hear the tale,” Artair said.
Hearing his rich brogue—so much like Ian’s—made Sarita’s heart hurt. She knew she’d left part of herself back at dorcha àite, but until that moment, she hadn’t recognized how deeply she’d fallen for her Scot.
Goddess, I’m a freakin’ idiot.
The feeling re
fused to be pushed aside. No, she loved a man she could never have—a man she’d likely never see again.
Unless—
What if Ian convinced Helen to take him back under her protection? What if he remained part of whatever scheme she’d cooked up this time? What if he came after Artair as he’d planned? Sarita could easily find herself staring at him down the blade of her sword as she drove it into his heart.
Could she do that? Could she kill the man she loved to save her sisters or her Sentinels? Could she kill Ian to protect Zach or the changelings?
She needed to feel that Ganga was close, so her gaze swept the room for her sword before she remembered she’d left it behind. “My sword. Did you find my sword?”
Artair strode to the bed and frowned at her. “Yer sword? I’m asking you where you’ve been, and you’re worried about yer sword?”
Sure, it was a stupid thing to ask considering they all needed answers.
She still wanted to know.
“It’s at my house,” Rebecca replied. She put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Give her some breathing room, Artair.”
Johann glanced up from his electronic table. His gaze caught hers. “Glad you’re back in one piece. You did me proud.”
“Thanks, Sentinel.”
“She’s probably been through hell,” Zach chimed in.
Hell? No.
Dorcha àite hadn’t been hell. In some ways, it had been heaven.
“I found your sword,” Johann said. “Gave it a good polish while we waited for news.” Which translated into I was worried about you.
“Thanks for bringing it back.”
“Sarita, what’s wrong?” Gina’s voice filled her thoughts again.
This was one of the few times Sarita considered their telepathic connection intrusive. What she’d shared with Ian should remain between her and her lover.
But that couldn’t happen. She was an Amazon. Her life wasn’t her own.
“Ian took me prisoner to lure out Artair. He let Marbas out to get Rebecca to come after him. He thought I was Earth. I let him keep thinking that until I could escape.”
