by Victoria Zak
Bhaltair smiled. “I was hoping ye’d say that.” He picked her up and placed her on the horse, then quickly mounted.
Kerr rode ahead.
It was another overcast day, which Masie was thankful for. When Bhaltair had invited her out, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She only prayed the sun would stay hidden and he kept his hands to himself.
The wind blew and Masie shivered, cuddling deeper into her cloak.
“Ye cold, lass?” Bhaltair asked.
“A wee bit, but I’ll be fine.”
He removed his cloak and draped it over Masie’s shoulders. Bhaltair pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. “Better?”
Masie swallowed, uncomfortable against his touch. “Aye,”
“Masie, I apologize for my behavior last night. It was wrong of me to kiss ye. I hope ye’ll forgive me.”
“Aye. Some people react to herbs differently than others. I’m just happy that ye are well.”
“Thank ye for understanding. Though if I may be completely honest, I dinnae regret it.”
Her body stiffened. Mayhap, she should have ridden with Kerr. Apparently, Bhaltair was still experiencing the side effects of her blood.
They reached the village and Bhaltair dismounted, then helped Masie down. Kerr tied the horses to a nearby tree. She looked around. Merchants were set up in two long rows of shops and tents, selling goods and food.
“Shall we?” Bhaltair held his arm out for her.
Masie smiled, accepting.
The hairs bristled on the back of her neck as Kerr’s arm brushed against hers as he walked next to her. No matter how hard she tried to calm her thundering heart, it was of no use. Being this close to him heightened her senses, leaving her a lustful mess. As they strolled down the path between the stalls, Masie felt safe flanked by the Highland warriors. It reminded her of how her sisters always sheltered her.
Bhaltair pointed to a small kirk with stone crosses in the courtyard. “Last summer, our village suffered an attack, killing a lot of our people and destroying most everything here. The kirk has finally been rebuilt.”
“Och, the bloody bastards,” Kerr spat. “Justice was served swift and harsh.”
“The kirk is beautiful. Do ye know who was responsible for the attack?” Masie asked.
“A group of thieves. No one we recognized,” Bhaltair explained.
“I’m so sorry,” Masie said. “Innocents often suffer such attacks.”
“Aye, we live in troubled times when supporting the wrong king can verra well get ye killed. Clan fighting against clan, brother killing brother. ’Tis the way of the Highlands,” Kerr said.
“Aye, the Gunns and Keiths have been feuding for decades. Generation after generation fosters the same hatred. Sometimes I forget what we’re fighting for,” Bhaltair said gravely.
“Och, Brother, I will no’ forget.”
“Can I speak freely, Laird?” Masie asked.
“Aye.”
“I admire ye passion for country and clan, but ’tis the responsibility of each generation to change their fate. Ye can stop the fighting.”
“Ye make a good point.” Bhaltair patted her hand. “Unfortunately, politics get in the way.”
“No’ when ye rule wit’ an iron fist.” Kerr shook his hand in the air. “There will always be fighting. A warrior is perceived by how he swings his sword in battle.”
“But brawn does no’ make a man. ’Tis what’s in here that counts.” Bhaltair pointed to his heart.
Kerr rolled his eyes.
As the brothers argued back and forth, she ignored them, taking in the scenery. Something sweet permeating the air caught her attention. Rosemary and honey? Aye, that was exactly what she was smelling. Masie walked ahead, following the scent to a little auld woman selling fragrant soaps. She picked up a bar of soap and sniffed it. “’Tis rosemary, aye?” Masie asked.
“Aye, with honey.”
“’Tis heavenly.”
“’Tis my husband’s favorite.” The auld woman winked. “He says I smell like the sweetest flower in Scotland.”
Masie’s cheeks heated.
“My blends are quite popular with the lasses. Here.” The woman took a bar from underneath the table and gave it to Masie. “This one will bring a lad to his knees. White roses and honey.”
Masie smelled it.
The auld woman leaned in. “’Tis also good for cramps.”
Masie coughed, surprised at the woman’s blunt nature. She tried to give the soap back but the woman refused. “Nay, my gift to ye. Any friend of the laird’s is a friend of mine.”
“Thank ye.” There was something refreshing about the woman’s kind nature. She looked deeper into the woman’s eyes. Aye, there was something very familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“There ye are,” Bhaltair called out, startling her. “I see ye found Ms. Graham’s soaps. They are verra popular wit’ the lasses,” Bhaltair said.
“Aye. Ms. Graham is verra talented,” Masie agreed.
Masie nodded to the woman before she followed Bhaltair back down the village path.
“Seize the witch!” a voice rang out.
Instantly, Masie trembled as she quickly spun around expecting to find one of Cormag’s men coming after her. To her relief, a throng raced to a wooden platform where five people were performing.
“The play is starting. Are ye coming, Kerr?”
“Ye should warn her.” Kerr arched a brow.
Masie looked at the brothers. “Warn me about what?”
Before Masie knew what was happing, Bhaltair excitedly pulled her toward the stage. With her heart racing with excitement, she followed Bhaltair as he shouldered his way through the crowd, finding a spot in front of the stage.
Bhaltair leaned toward Masie. “These actors have performed in front of the king.”
Relief washed over her. Thank the gods she wasn’t witnessing an actual witch being hung, drawn, and quartered. Yet, the visual before her frightened her more.
A huge wooden dragon head sat on the forefront of the stage. His mouth was wide open and flames burned inside. Twin black horns stuck out from its head and his eyes glowed red. Indeed, a fierce beastie. The actors were dancing provocatively in front of the dragon as if they were conjuring demons.
Masie couldn’t tear her eyes away from the madness unfolding before her, until she saw a black-cloaked woman in the middle of it all. Her arms were outstretched to the sky, her black hair flowed down to her waist. Her face was painted white and her lips were red. She opened her mouth and showed her fangs. Masie gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. Masie couldn’t believe what she was seeing and began to tremble.
All of sudden, men dressed in leather tunics with devil masks on came running out of the dragon’s mouth with torches in their hands. They charged the dancers, herding them toward the open jaws of the dragon head, until they were engulfed in flames.
“Into the mouth of hell, sinners,” the crowd chanted.
Masie franticly searched the faces in the audience. Fists pumped angrily in the air. They roared louder as two guards grabbed the fanged woman and lifted her over their shoulders. Kicking and screeching, they entered the mouth to hell.
Masie grabbed Kerr’s hand tightly and looked away. The chanting became deafening and Masie couldn’t stand it anymore. She buried her head in Kerr’s chest, fear overtaking her. When was the play going to end?
Chapter Eight
Kerr’s breath seized in his lungs as soon as Masie grabbed his hand. He didn’t know what to do. Damn Bhaltair for not warning Masie about the violent play. She was clearly frightened.
Apprehensively, he placed his hand on her head. “Shh,” he whispered, then did something surprising. He kissed the top of her head.
Masie looked up at him, their gazes locked. “Let’s get ye out of here.”
Masie nodded. “I can no’ see any more of t-this madness.”
He caressed her cheek. “Can ye make it back to th
e horses?”
“Aye.”
Kerr smiled. “Follow me.”
Holding her hand, Kerr lead her away from the stage and angry people.
“Stop,” Masie called out breathlessly.
Kerr turned around. “Are ye well?”
“Nay.” Masie bent over, resting her hands on her thighs. “I can no’ catch my breath. I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
God’s bones, he didn’t think he could stomach seeing Masie sick. He started pacing.
“Please,” Masie begged. “Please stop. ’Tis no’ helping my stomach.”
Bhaltair finally caught up to them. “Why did ye leave?” he asked, looking at his brother.
“Ye fool!” Kerr strode in front of Bhaltair. “Ye should have warned her how vulgar the play was. She’s frightened to death.”
Bhaltair glanced at Masie. “I’m sorry, lass. I—”
“What?” Masie exclaimed. “That I’d enjoy seeing such ruthlessness, such…such crudeness.”
“Nay, I wanted ye to experience—”
“Hell!” Masie yelled.
“Let’s get ye back to the castle.” Kerr helped Masie to walk. “Once ye rest, ye’ll feel much better.”
Kerr picked Masie up and set her on his horse, then mounted behind her. Once again, he felt his body come alive as she snuggled against his chest, sweet and soft like a wee lamb. Strong, yet so delicate. He couldn’t help but protect her.
The stable lad met Kerr outside the stable and took his horse as he carried Masie to the castle and up to her bedchamber. He laid her down on the bed, removed her shoes, and tucked her in underneath the warm furs. Once she was comfortable, he walked to the hearth and placed some peat on the flames.
Before he left, he walked back to the bed and watched Masie sleep. Her dark eyelashes rested on her creamy cheeks. Her lips were made for kissing. Before long, he vowed, he would kiss that luscious mouth. Her chest rose in a soothing rhythm. At least she was resting and far away from those horrific images.
God’s teeth, he hoped his gut was wrong about her, she couldn’t be a spy.
*
The memory of the fanged woman being thrown into the flames at the play had plagued Masie’s dreams. She couldn’t shake the bad feeling. Her gaze darted around the bedchamber as she sat up. Shadows swayed on the stone walls. The dogs outside barked and howled as if they were chasing something down. Mayhap the men from the play were coming to get her, to burn her just like the fanged woman. The Baobhan sith are me and my sisters. It was only a matter of time before they found out who she was. She didn’t want to be around when the witch hunters came.
Masie padded over to the wash basin and splashed water on her face, scrubbing the nightmare from her eyes. She patted her skin dry with a square of linen. Still shaken from her dream, she looked under the bed and searched the dark corners. Maiden, Mother, Crone. ’Tis only a dream. Masie exhaled, frustrated for allowing herself to be easily frightened. But the fear was real.
Even as powerful as she was, she couldn’t outrun or destroy an angry mob.
She had to find something to occupy her mind, to forget about those horrid images. She opened the trunk at the end of her bed and pulled out a green dress with matching slippers. Bhaltair had kept his word and made sure she had clean clothes to wear. The trunk was filled with dresses, shifts, and shoes, which were more than she needed.
The dress fit perfectly, snug around her breasts and tapered into a full skirt. Her mother’s brooch sat on the table next to the bed. She pinned it on the inside of her dress, next to her heart.
The cold air would do her good, so Masie left the bedchamber and rushed downstairs and out the door. She didn’t know where she was headed, and cared little as long as she wasn’t stuck inside that nightmare.
She took the cobblestone path down into the bailey. It wasn’t long until she found herself standing in the stable, stroking her horse’s mane. Her soul was lost. She didn’t have a home or a clan to call her own. Where did she fit in?
She liked Wickshire. But if the townsfolk found out what she was, they’d kill her.
It was ridiculous to desire the unattainable: a home, family, and most of all, a man who could love her—all of her. Every time Kerr was close by he brought out those feelings. She couldn’t explain it, she just wanted to be near him, wanted to know what made him happy. She wanted to know everything about him.
Masie, ye’re the enemy. His words were unforgettable.
Time here was coming to end. It was rather silly to think she’d be welcomed into the mortal world. She could still hear the queen’s warning, once a mortal finds the unexplainable a threat, they destroy it out of fear.
“Planning yer escape?” Kerr’s voice slithered up her spine. Goddess, why did he have this effect on her? Her body tingled and he hadn’t even touched her.
She whipped around. “Are ye following me?
“Nay, I have men that will do that for me.” He winked and walked to his horse.
He still didn’t trust her. Masie, ye’re the enemy. “I know, I know,” she whispered, trying to stop her nagging conscious.
“Did ye say something?” Kerr looked at her, brows furrowed.
“Nay—I mean—are ye going for a ride?” Goddess, she was at a loss for words.
“Aye.” He studied her for a moment. “Would ye like to join me?”
“Ye trust me no’ to run?”
“Aye, yer sisters are still here. Ye wouldn’t leave them.”
He was right, she wouldn’t. Her stomach fluttered thinking about being alone with him.
“I promise to be a proper gentleman.”
Please, dinnae.
Kerr returned to saddling his horse. “I just thought ye might want a change of scenery. I’m sorry if I crossed the line.”
That line had already been breached. He’d seen her naked.
“Aye, I’ll join ye. Can I ride my horse? I’ve missed her dearly.”
Again, she’d fallen under his suspicious eye. “What’s the harm if ye know I will no’ escape?”
“Och, lass, I trust ye. Ye can ride yer horse.”
She let out an excited squeal.
“But…” He stepped in front of her. “Do no’ mistake my kindness as weakness.”
The intensity he displayed rendered her speechless. “Kerr, I’d never take yer kindness for granted, nor would I think ye as weak.”
“Good.” He walked back to his horse and mounted. “Now, keep up.”
Before Masie could think, she mounted and raced out of the stable. She didn’t need a saddle to ride. Leaning over her horse, Masie whispered, “Fly.” Without delay, her mare galloped like hell through the bailey, easily catching up with Kerr.
They raced each other deep into the glen, weaving between trees. Masie took a measurable lead when the forest opened into a clearing. She slowed her horse and encouraged the beast to walk around in a circle to catch her breath. That’s when she heard something from beyond the trees. She smiled. “Come out ye coward. There’s no shame in being bested by a lass.” No reply came. He couldn’t be that far behind, could he? Was he hurt? She began to panic. “Kerr, ’tis no’ funny.” She searched the tree line for movement.
Happiness quickly turned to panic and she jumped down, feeling shaky. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Goddess, she couldn’t breathe. She fell to her knees, sucking in air.
“Masie!” Kerr came running from the opposite side of the glen. “What is it?” He cradled her in his arms. “Masie, talk to me.”
As soon as she saw his face, she calmed down. “Dinnae ever do that to me again.”
“Do what? Best ye?”
“I was here first.”
“Are ye sure, because I was right over there setting up a target when I saw ye reach the clearing.” He pointed.
Masie stood, shaking away the nerves. “Ye should have answered me. I dinnae see ye over there.”
“I wanted to surprise ye.” Kerr lead her to the target. “Have ye e
ver shot a bow?”
“Nay.”
“I thought ye should learn how. I saw how upset and frightened ye were yesterday and I want to teach ye so ye can protect yerself.”
Masie regarded his words. He wanted to teach her how to defend herself? She didn’t know how to take his sudden kindness. Yesterday, he took her away from that violent play and now he wanted to teach her how to shoot a bow. Why the sudden change of heart? “Are ye sure ye can trust the enemy with an arrow?”
Kerr smirked. “Aye, ’tis my heart I dinnae know about.”
Kerr pulled an arrow from a quiver leaning against a tree. He stood a distance away from the target and readied the bow. “Watch carefully.” He drew back, then let go. The arrow landed in the center of the target. He grabbed another arrow. “Come.” He motioned for her to stand in front of him. “Yer stance is verra important. Feet should be shoulder width apart.” He gripped her hips, moving her into position. “And stand up straight.”
Taking in a shaky breath, she inhaled his scent as he wrapped his arms around her, positioning the bow. He slid her hair to the side, her neck exposed to his lips. “Draw back.” How was she supposed to pay attention when he was awakening her desires? Goddess help her. “Now, let go.” His lips brushed against her ear softly and her insides melted. Aye, she wanted to let go and kiss him, but that’s not what he meant. She leaned into him, giving him a sideways glance. “Ye’re distracting me.”
He grinned and took a step back. Masie aimed and the arrow sailed through the air, splintering the center of the target. “Ha, did ye see that!” Excitedly, she turned to Kerr. “I hit it!”
“Ye’re a natural. It takes most people several shots before they even hit the target.”
“And I’ve bested ye.” She gave him a playful shove.
“Och,” he grumbled. “I was warming up. Another round?”
“Aye.” She tipped her chin up, accepting the challenge.
Chapter Nine
The next morn, Masie raced to her sisters’ chamber. She knocked on the door. After spending a day with Kerr and sharing an evening meal together, she was going to burst if she didn’t tell someone about it. When no one answered, she opened the door. “Adaira? Leana?”
