by Lilian Jade
“No … no … no!” Angus roared. He was still in the vision. He again heard the whistle of arrows descending through the air, and just as fast they too lodged deep into her flesh—one in her right thigh, and the other just below her left kidney.
Angus kept his head cradled in his hands. The arrows were shot so fast that the woman didn’t even have a chance to get out of the way. Still Angus couldn’t see her face, but he watched as she slowly slumped to the ground.
And then Angus came to, his vision clearing like a fog dissipating in his head.
It took Lilith fifteen minutes from the hotel to Mount Peak. She had woken that morning with a small headache, so she popped two aspirin with a glass of water, showered, and slipped into the new outfit she had purchased from the Katmandu store down the road dressing appropriately in a pair of cargo pants, a woman’s thermal top, a windbreaker jacket, and trekking boots.
Wasting no time loaded the car up, Lilly put her belongings that papa had given to her in the boot of the car where the spare tire was normally situated. She figured if someone tried to rob the car or steal it when she was in the mountain, they wouldn’t find her things right away. She managed to fit the suitcase that was yet to be open, her handbag, and the gold jewelry box into the space. Lilith covered it all with the thin carpet of the trunk, before she sat the spare tire snugly on top, feeling just a bit more at ease. It was the best she could do.
From there she found a coffee shop and picked up her favorite hazelnut coffee, along with two chocolate swirl pastries. She needed to get something nice and sweet into her system. Most women would envy Lilith and the fact that no matter what she ate, she never gained an ounce. She maintained a narrow waist with a big, plump butt, and two generously-sized breasts. She had thin, long legs and curvy hips. Sure, women were envious, but somehow, Lilith still managed to feel like she wasn’t good enough for anyone. If she were, how come she hadn’t managed to find him yet?
Lilith parked on a rough, flat stretch of land at the bottom of the mountain. There were no parking lots, no cafés to wash up in or purchase food after hiking like she had seen in popular trails back home. Lilith unbuckled herself and reached over to the passenger side and did the same to Papa’s urn. Slipping out of the car, Lilith locked the doors and began to make her way up the steep trek. The walkway was narrow and a tad damp, but other than that, it wasn’t too challenging. The sun was high, and the birds and insects chirped cheerfully. Lilith tried not to think too much about what she was doing there—spreading Papa’s ashes high up on the mountain hillside in Scotland where he belonged.
Lilith smiled to herself. Papa would be happy here. The trees stood tall and lush, the moss coated the ground in a sea bed of many shades of green. It was apparent that even though the mountain mostly saw rain, it also got its fair share of sun. The wind blew in calming waves, cool and warm. Yes, her papa would have loved it here. Lilith kept a slow, even pace so she could enjoy the walk without breaking a sweat. It took just over forty-five minutes for her to climb to the top.
Looking around at the view, Lilith could see beyond a few buildings in the distance. They looked tiny from where she stood. Below her, there were more swells of hills and mountaintops running alongside a river or lake. She wasn’t sure which, but it was gorgeous either way, the water glistening silver in the sunlight.
“Well, Papa, I hope you like where I chose to spread your ashes. May you rest in peace … I will always love you.” Lilith took in a deep breath before removing the top of the urn and tipping out the ashes. “There are so many things that I want to say, Papa …” Lilith broke off, trying hard to compose herself. “But there are none that seem right. I wish you were still here with me, Papa; I don’t feel like I can live without you. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, Papa … I’m … I am so sorry you were alone when you died. And I desperately want to know what you meant when you wrote that you should have told me who I was and where I came from.”
Lilith’s tears ran freely down her cheeks. She swiped at her damp face with the backs of her hands. Suddenly, all she could feel was a mad, aching pain shooting straight through her. It felt as if her body was on fire, the pain was so mind boggling. Her chest, gut, arm, and leg radiated a terrible, searing heat, and all Lilith could hear was her own screams. She didn’t even recognize her own voice. When Lilith looked down, she saw that her body was covered in shiny, spiky arrows.
She couldn’t think straight. Lilith slumped to the ground in throbbing, heart-wrenching agony. Damn it! she thought. Had some hunter been out for deer or wild boar and missed his target? Was she going to die here and be left to rot? Maybe whoever shot at her was going to realize that he shot a human. Perhaps he would freak out—bury her himself to cover up his accident rather than take her to a hospital. No one would come looking for Lilith. She had no family left.
“No!” Lilith spoke, her thoughts surfacing just above the pain. She had to get to the car fast before she became the lifeless, forgotten corpse that no one would ever look for or even mourn. Lilith got to her hands and knees and crawled back onto the path that she had followed.
Every little movement felt like she was being burned alive. She moved through the pain as quickly as possible, her mind clouding over, stars shooting in front of her eyelids all the while. Lilith didn’t know how long she crawled. She was tripping over her own hands, causing new cuts and bumps to form on her already aching body. Lilith crawled, stumbled, and partly rolled out of the bush, her vision blurred by sweat and dirt. Blood coated her entire body.
At last she could see her blood red dodge viper. She resisted the urge to fall prisoner to her own unconsciousness, just barely. She quickened her pace that little bit more. Lilith fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice and finally getting the lock on the third try. She unlocked the door, climbed in, and started the car. Lilith sped off, swerving unsteadily down the abandoned road.
“Angus … Angus, are you okay? Angus, what happened?” He was aware of Hunter’s voice, but the pain was still too intense. Angus opened his eyes to find himself bent over with his head between his legs. He could feel that his face was wet, like he had been crying. When did he ever cry? Angus McClain cried over nobody—and especially not over some fae woman he’d never even met.
“She … I mean, the fae … she has been injured, or mayhap even killed. They found her.” Angus straightened just as they pulled into their long driveway.
“How … where? Fuck.” Hunter jumped out of his seat at the same time as Angus, both slamming their doors just as Occam pulled up behind them. The front door to the castle flung open and out ran Elle. She flew past the door and jumped straight into Duncan’s arms.
“Oh, Duncan, thank God you’re home. Something awful has happened … I don’t know what it is, but I have never felt anything like it before.” Elle stood there, visibly shaking.
“There, there, lass. Everything is going to be all right,” he said, trying to reassure her.
Elle pushed out of Duncan’s embrace, looking up into his face. “That’s just it, Duncan. It is not going to be okay. We are all in danger … something’s out there, and it’s coming. It’s hunting something … oh, Duncan!” Elle broke off, grabbing Duncan by the waist. She tugged him to her and held on tight.
Duncan looked to his brothers. “Angus, what are we to do?”
But Angus didn’t know what to do. How could he fight something he did not know how to kill? How could he keep this fae woman safe if he didn’t know where she was, and she was out there somewhere, dying in some hidden bush he would never find? “I don’t know,” Angus told his brothers. “I really. Don’t. Know.” Angus knew that his brothers could see his frustration and loss at having made a promise that he was unable to fulfil.
They all stood motionless on the drive, no one knowing where to go or how to fight whatever danger was upon them. “Duncan,” Elle spoke suddenly. “Something’s hurt, no … someone’s hurt.” Elle closed her eyes, thinking hard ab
out what she was seeing or feeling.
Elle had been gifted from birth. Being a direct descendant of Bridget Bishop, the first of the witches to be accused and hanged in the 1692 Salem witch trials. Seventy-two were allegedly tried, and twenty were executed. Elle rarely spoke about her family line, and the brothers didn’t usually push her for answers.
“Someone’s hurt … a woman. She’s badly hurt … you have to help her … she comes … something’s hurt her. No … no … no … Duncan!”
Lilith was in deep shit if she didn’t get help soon. She could feel herself almost slipping into unconsciousness. If that happened, she would end up dying in a car accident. Never, she thought acidly to herself. She needed to hurry and get to a hospital fast, but her mind was fogging over. She wasn’t sure if she could feel her legs, or her entire body for that matter.
Lilith could see stars with each blink she took; she worried that if she kept her eyes shut for a second too long, she wouldn’t open them ever again. It was as though she could feel her brain shutting down from all the pain and loss of blood. “Papa, where are you?” Lilith murmured to herself.
Just when she thought her luck was all used up, a massive, stunning castle came into her view. She could see cars out front with people standing around. How had she not noticed such a structure when she passed by earlier?
Lilith took note of the driveway. She knew she was driving too fast to make the turn, but she needed to make it work. She had to give it a try—it meant life or death for her, and she had far too much desire to live to give up now. So Lilith gunned it into the drive, making it with only a few inches to spare. Pulling up the hand break, Lilith screamed out for help. Or at least she thought she did. The sound came out a faint, desperate whisper before darkness yanked her under.
Angus and his family watched the commotion with their mouths agape as the blood-red Dodge Viper they had seen earlier was now careening down the road in the opposite direction toward their home.
Suddenly the driver changed course. “Fuck, it’s not gonna make it!” Angus roared. “Get out of the way … fuck!” They all jumped back in unison as the Dodge viper made it through the concrete archway that covered the entrance by mere inches. The car came to a dead stop.
A muffled sound came from deep within the sports car, but to Angus, it sounded like a desperate plea for help. Occam turned to his BMW to retrieve his double-barreled shotgun while Angus and Kevan each pulled out their .45 caliber handgun.
Angus signaled them to stay put while he checked things out. No one made a move.
“She’s hurt, Angus,” Elle said in a hushed whisper. Angus didn’t know what to say to reassure the woman that everything would be okay, because for the moment, nothing was okay.
As Angus made it to the driver’s side, he heard movement behind him. He looked back to find Kevan on his left, and Occam on his right. All three of them had their guns at the ready, prepared to face whatever it was they were about to face.
With one hand on his gun and the other on the driver’s side door handle, Angus spoke quietly to his brothers. “One, two, three.” With a hand gesture he yanked open the door, revealing a woman covered in blood.
Her hair was matted with mud and leaves, her clothing caked in dirt and blood. Her body was pierced with gold and silver arrows. Angus heard Occam’s shocked gasp at the gruesome sight.
“Is she alive?” Occam questioned, his voice coming thick and husky. Angus knew his brother was furious at what he saw. He placed a finger on the pulse at her neck—he had to hold it there for a few seconds, but he finally managed to catch the faint beat of her heart.
“Barely. I don’t even know how she managed to drive, let alone walk away in the condition she is currently in.” Angus was holding in his madness by a very thin thread. Looking at the sight of this female, he felt such a deep hatred for whoever had harmed her that it frightened him. He needed to get her out of the car, he thought. He needed to do whatever he could to somehow save her. Angus knew in his gut that the time it would take to get to the nearest hospital would be more than the amount of time this woman had left. They were going to have to do it themselves.
“We are going to need towels,” he yelled. “Lots of them. Get some hot water, antiseptic, scissors, and whatever else we might need … fast! I will take her inside.” Angus bent and carefully scooped the women into his hands, trying not to cause her any more pain. He rushed up the front staircase and in through the double doors of the front hall. He moved quickly down the hall and up the stairs, careful not to jostle her along the way.
“Where are you going, Angus?” came Hannah’s worried voice behind him.
“To my room, lass. It will be easier for me to keep watch over the woman there.” Angus reached his room and kicked open the door. He cleared his large desk with one hand as he gripped the women in the other. Once cleared, he set her down. Relief filled him as he let go of the woman; it was like his body was being shocked by mini lightning bolts just from holding her in his arms.
“Angus, we got everything we could find that might be useful,” Kevan said. “Marissa has gone off to find Marcus. It’s his day off, but he could still be somewhere around the keep.”
“Thank you.” Angus took everything out of Kevan’s hands. The woman still had a pulse, but she was out cold. Angus started with the scissors, cutting away at her clothes and baring a little of the woman’s belly. He stopped what he was doing and looked up to see that Kevan was still in the room. Angus hesitated to reveal more of the women in front of Kevan. Despite the danger she was in, he felt protective of her modesty.
Or was it because he didn’t want to share this woman with anyone, not even with his brothers—or any other man for that matter? The truth was, Angus didn’t want a soul near her but him. Angus didn’t even know this woman, and he couldn’t understand his reaction towards her. Just being near her sent his heart rate soaring.
“I don’t think your wife would appreciate you ogling another woman,” Angus said.
Kevan simply nodded at him and agreed to stand outside the door. “I’ll be just in the hall if you need anything,” he said, before turning and closing the door behind him.
Angus resumed cutting off the young woman’s clothes, starting with her top. He’d planned to leave her bra on, only to find she wasn’t wearing one. It took a while, but he managed to take all the heavy items off, trying his best to keep her breasts hidden beneath her tattered top.
But he failed miserably. His gut dropped at the sight of the woman’s full, rounded breasts, her rosy red nipples, and the sun-kissed skin that felt so smooth to the touch. Even after wiping away the dirt, and dried blood that still stained her gorgeous skin.
This woman’s body was perfect. Except for the multiple arrows sticking out of it! Angus reminded himself. He had to stop thinking with his cock and keep his mind on the more important matters at hand.
He started again with the scissors, cutting up the right leg of the woman’s cargo pants. He cut through the fabric, pulling it away from her skin without causing further injury. Her leg was smooth with a warm, tanned glow to it. All Angus wanted to do was run his tongue up the inside of her beautiful, lean leg.
That’s when he noticed the tattoo. It was exactly the same as the woman’s tattoo in his dreams. And the tribal design was unlike any he had seen before. Angus took a deep breath, trying to calm his scattered nerves. This woman couldn’t possibly be the woman of his dreams. It was too unlikely.
Nay, everyone got inspired by other people’s designs. That must be it; this woman must have seen the tribal tattoo on the internet or in some magazine Angus shook his head for his barbaric thoughts. She wasn’t his—his dream woman was not sprawled out before him on his desk, dying.
Angus cut away the rest of the fabric to find that the tribal tattoo expanded to cover her hips and pelvic region. He was starting to see red. His vision blurred for a fraction of a second before he tried his hardest to calm his thoughts. This had to be a trick of the
mind—some sadistic play at impersonation, or something else, but not the woman he had dreamed.
Angus felt a slight trickle of something warm and wet on his cheek. He swiped at his face with one hand.
Surely he wouldn’t cry over this unknown woman. Surely. So then why? Why was he crying? Or was the situation more complex than he was making it out to be? Perhaps his emotions came from not having a woman to love.
Angus looked down at the four gold and silver arrowheads sticking out of the woman’s body.
Touching the arrow in her shoulder lightly, Angus noticed that the arrow grew longer. The spikes had actually grown in size. Angus knew that this woman had been hurt by those rat bastard faes—the arrows were exactly the same as the ones he’d seen in his vision.
Frowning at himself, Angus tried to think of why any fae would want to kill some human they didn’t even know. Or better yet, why were they after a human? And why did he have a vision about this human? All of the visions Angus experienced were visions Devlin had shared with him. Were these somehow related to Devlin’s granddaughter, who was also a fae? Could this woman be Devlin’s heir that somehow didn’t inherit the fae blood? No, that wasn’t it—this woman couldn’t possibly be fae, or Angus would have been able to sense her. So if she wasn’t a fae, then that meant she wasn’t Devlin’s heir.
Angus had barely touched the tip of the arrowhead when the mysterious woman practically jumped out of her skin screaming to hell and back. It had Angus nearly doubled over. The sound was so loud, it felt as if his head were being ripped to shreds. The woman’s hands clung to him, pulling him so that his ear was very near her mouth.
Angus pressed her back down to the table gently, trying not to move her around too much. If he was correct, the arrows did indeed grow when they were moved or touched, and her sitting upright would surely make the damn things grow. Angus lowered his head to listen to her as she spoke.
“The car … in the boot …” That is all she spoke in her hoarse voice. Causing Angus’s body to ripple with goose bumps. Even with her voice so weak, the woman still sounded like an angel; it was the very voice he heard whispering such promises to him in his dreams. With that said, she fainted again.
