Reckoning (Book 4 of Lost Highlander series)

by Cassidy Cayman

  “You didn’t want me to find it?” she asked, completely forgetting to feel self-conscious. She held her breath, waiting for an answer. Digging her fingernails into her palms in her frustration, she tried again. “Was it you who showed me where it was?”

  Her skin prickled all over as she waited. One of the burners on the stove sprang to life, a flickering blue flame underneath the tea kettle, and she started to shake. Just as the kettle began to whistle, softly at first, then building to a shrill whine, she heard it again. Way back in the recesses of her mind, almost more of a thought placed there instead of a voice.

  No.

  Piper jumped up and grabbed the kettle off the flame, sticking it in the sink. Flushed with exhilaration, she turned giddily in a circle as if she could see the source of the voice somewhere in the room. She fiddled with the burner, and ended up dousing the flame with an oven mitt, not even caring that she’d started another fire with her mind. Her chest felt like the iron band around it had been loosened.

  “I’ve got you,” she said, still looking around the kitchen, positive she wasn’t alone. “I know what you don’t want, you bitch. Now I’ve got you.”

  Chapter 11

  With her decision made, Piper found it difficult to get through the christening and the lovely reception afterwards. She put on a brave, smiling face and forced herself to act normal, and everything went without a hitch. Her godson was darling, the best baby in the world. She knew he’d grow up to be a good man, and hoped she’d get to see it.

  It took her a few days to get everything in order, and the entire time she warred with herself, not sure of her choice. She reminded herself frequently she didn’t really have a choice.

  Something had to be done before Daria’s spirit turned her into a full fledged monster, forcing the villagers to storm the castle with pitchforks and torches. She focused on that somewhat comically dramatic image, because she couldn’t stomach the more realistic, scarier image of Evie having to call her mother to come have her committed to a mental institution.

  She heard Evie pull up in the back drive, and hurriedly got her papers together, trying to decide how she would tell her, already chickening out. When Evie came in and began unbuckling Magnus from his car seat, Piper noticed it right away and screeched with joy.

  “What’s on your hand?” she shouted, scaring Magnus.

  Evie couldn’t hide her glee. Turning red, she held out her hand, the beautiful engagement ring Sam had painstakingly picked out for her so long ago finally sparkling on her finger. Piper found herself sobbing and had to sit down. All of the dark and sad emotions she had been struggling to keep at bay for so long, and it was happiness that broke her. Of course Evie couldn’t see someone cry without starting in herself, so they hugged each other and bawled until Magnus started up and Evie untangled herself to get him out of his car seat.

  “You have to tell me everything,” Piper said, wiping her face with a dish towel and pouring them some tea. “Act it out.”

  Evie laughed. “It was very Sam. He just went for it. Poor thing got down on both knees.”

  “Oh my God, you had to say yes after that.”

  “Yes, I had to.” Evie smiled a dreamy, faraway smile.

  Piper’s last bit of indecision melted away. She realized she’d been worried about Evie being unsettled, but now her happiness was assured. Whatever the outcome, Evie would be all right.

  She set the tea cups down on the table and dove in. “I’m going back to when Rose is,” she said in a rush. “I think she can help me with Daria.” She felt calm. This must have been how Rose felt when she decided to go back to be with John.

  “Like hell you are,” Evie said indignantly. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard you say,” she continued, putting Magnus in his bassinet. “I can’t even hold the baby, I’m so upset right now.”

  Piper was shocked. She had expected her to be uncertain, but not downright unsupportive. “I think it’s the best thing,” she said, wondering if she should explain about her creepy inner voice being scared of the diary. “Rose knows about Daria, how evil she was—”

  “Is,” interjected Evie. “She might still be alive in that timeline, remember?”

  Piper took a long swallow of tea to buy herself some time. She hadn’t remembered that. Dear God, was she going to have to keep killing this woman all across the ages? The thought made her want to walk into the lake.

  She tried to do the math. More than twenty years passed before Rose returned, and if they assumed time did flow concurrently, wouldn’t Daria still be dead?

  “I see what you’re trying to figure out,” Evie said. “Your wheels are practically grinding. But you can’t know for sure if she got killed before or after. That cow is so powerful, she could be lurking around in any time, waiting for you to show up. She could be luring you there. Maybe this whole story with grandma Rose is codswallop, to trick you back to a time she’s still alive.”

  “You’re being a monkey wrench, Evie,” she said, unwilling to let her plan disintegrate.

  She felt fairly certain that she was supposed to find her grandmother. If Daria was still alive, she’d have to face that.

  “Because it’s a stupid plan. It deserves ten wrenches thrown in it.”

  “Look, you said it yourself,” Piper argued. “Daria’s powerful. Scary powerful, right? Well, her spirit is in me.” Piper shuddered, feeling the deep, skin crawling disgust of it. “And I want it out.”

  “We’ll find another way,” Evie said, waving at all the boxes in the corner of the kitchen that they hadn’t gone through yet.

  Piper groaned. She wanted to take action, not sit around the table for the next three months, going blind over old parchment, while Daria’s powers grew stronger and more difficult to control. It was time to bring out the big guns.

  She explained what had happened the other day, how she’d started another fire, about hearing an answer in her mind. “Daria doesn’t want me to go back. That alone is reason enough to do it, as far as I’m concerned,” Piper finished.

  “I still don’t like it,” Evie said, remaining unconvinced, but Piper could tell she was wavering.

  She took a deep breath and pushed onward. “I can’t let her win,” she said. “I don’t know how she did it, but she separated me from Lachlan. I’m glad I got Magnus back, please don’t ever think I regret getting back, but now Lachlan’s …” she swallowed hard. “Lachlan’s gone and I won’t ever see him again. Maybe that was her plan all along, to ruin my happiness. But none of it would have happened at all, if she hadn’t sent Lachlan here in the first place. He did everything he did for me, to save me from her, and now he’s … I won’t let him be her victim. I can’t let his death be in vain.”

  Piper rested her forehead on her arms. It had taken everything she had to say the words, admit them to herself. She’d known before she even met him that Lachlan was in her family crypt, that he died the same year he originally traveled from.

  She hadn’t wanted to believe it would truly happen, she’d held onto the silly belief that she could change things. And ultimately nothing had really changed. They’d just messed up the order, or possibly caused it all themselves. That was a thought she couldn’t bear, not for a second. All she could do now was make sure Daria didn’t get a happy ending.

  “Then I’ll go with you,” Evie said, reaching out to touch Magnus’s foot. The baby kicked and waved the blanket he clutched in his tiny, fat hand.

  “That’s hilarious.” Piper gave her the most threatening stare she could muster. “You most certainly will not. Don’t even bring it up again.”

  “You can’t go alone,” Evie said. She gasped, holding up her hands. “How can you go at all?” she asked, waving her fingers. “You don’t have any bones.” She dropped her voice to an agitated whisper. “Do you?”

  Piper shook her head. The bones were the least of her worries. She was absolutely certain she could make the trip without them, though she’d failed once before using the
more benign, boneless spell.

  “I won’t need them,” she said. “Not anymore. Daria made the unfortunate decision to possess me, so now I have some of her power. And I’m going to use it against her.” She grinned with satisfaction and looked around. “Didn’t think of that, did you?” She clamped her mouth shut, realizing she’d just spoken aloud to her dead ancestor’s spirit in front of Evie.

  Thankfully, Evie pretended not to notice. “She was seconds from being beheaded after all. It probably seemed like a good idea at the time.” She sighed. “I guess you’re probably all ready to go, aren’t you? There’s nothing I can say or do to stop you?”

  “I’m leaving tonight.” Piper knew there was no more reason to wait. Evie looked miserable and she scooted to her side of the table and hugged her. “Just a quick mission, in and out. I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

  Evie laughed a tiny bit, apprehension gleaming in her eyes. “Okay, time traveling warrior princess. Except I already miss you and you’re not even gone yet.”

  Chapter 12

  Lachlan had to remind himself that Bella’s pregnancy wasn’t the worst possible thing that could have happened. Except, it felt like it was the worst possible thing. He knew he must have a horrified look on his face and he tried valiantly to smile reassuringly at Bella. He failed and she rolled over, burying her face in her pillow and moaning as if the world was ending.

  Which it felt like it was. Deep in his heart, he was relieved she wasn’t dying of some strange illness, or poisoned by her own people. Her being with child was actually a good thing, as history was righting itself. It was just such bloody awful timing. It hit him in the gut that there was no way now he could carry out his slow, peaceful plan of easing Pietro under the Glen’s noses. Bugger it all, they had no time at all now.

  Bella would need to be married to Pietro as soon as humanly possible. Sooner. The child had to be recognized as his, not Lachlan’s. He staggered over to the basin and splashed a few drops of water onto his face, unable to believe he once again might have screwed up Piper’s timeline.

  He couldn’t handle thinking about it. Action, he needed to take action.

  “Dinna fret,” he said, reaching for their chamber door. “I shall tell Pietro at once, and we’ll come up with a new plan.”

  Bella twisted around and sat straight up in bed, her pale, tear streaked face twisted with rage. “If ye dare to do that, I shall murder ye in your sleep.” She clenched her fists. “Are ye the stupidest man who ever lived?”

  “Bella, he must know,” Lachlan said reasonably.

  Her face crumpled and she fell back against the pillows again. “I know that, but I want to tell him.”

  Lachlan considered this, feeling bad for her. Everything had gone so wrong for her in the last weeks, pretty much all due to him. Well, not this newest thing, that at least wasn’t his fault. But he was responsible for not keeping her closer to hand, for trusting those two to be alone together, when he knew they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

  “I dinna know, lass. I canna have anyone see ye together, not after what happened in the woods.”

  He hated to shame her and make her remember that terrible night. She hadn’t stopped crying about it for days after, and wouldn’t eat in the main hall until he practically dragged her down. She had sat regally but silently that night, and when she realized it was him who was hated and everyone mostly felt sorry for her, she started acting somewhat normally again.

  The moony stares she gave Pietro were going to be the death of them all though, but now he better understood her melancholy of the last week, as well as her sickness. The look on her face was so sad, he couldn’t bear to tell her no.

  “I shall find a way,” he finally promised.

  She relaxed and thanked him profusely. With all of that churning in his mind, he left the room to find his brother.

  Quinn was in his tiny chamber reading a book, a frown burned into his brow. Lachlan noticed how tired his brother looked, probably from the constant vigilance he had to practice, afraid to turn his back on any Glen, and having to watch his every word.

  “A moment?” he asked, closing the door behind him. He could tell Quinn saw the worry on his own face and his demeanor sank further.

  “Aye,” he said. “What is it now?” He closed his book and motioned Lachlan to the one chair in the room.

  He looked around Quinn’s miserable chamber. A tiny pallet, a wooden spindle chair and basin made up the sparse furnishings. It was an inner room, so there was no window and Quinn read hunched over the light of a candle stump. He was surprised he hadn’t complained more, or found solace in the arms of more willing wenches. Quinn was being really quite stalwart, and he felt a surge of pride in his previous wastrel of a baby brother.

  “I have news,” Lachlan said. “No’ good, I’m afraid.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes and motioned for him to continue, obviously not expecting good news.

  He told him Bella’s situation, hoping he might find it less of an emergency, and would have a different perspective. Perhaps a silver lining could be found.

  Instead, he released a string of swear words that raised Lachlan’s eyebrow. He wasn’t wrong, then. Things were bad.

  “Things are terrible,” Quinn said. “Our plan is gone by the wayside. We have no time. We must act, and fast.”

  “Aye, thanks for that,” Lachlan said sarcastically.

  “Should we flee in the night?” he asked, ignoring Lachlan’s morose attitude.

  “And have all the Glens upon us in the morn?” Lachlan asked. “That will be certain war.”

  “Why is Pietro not here to help us plan?” Quinn asked, getting up to go find him.

  Lachlan stayed him, explaining how Bella wanted to be the one to tell the joyous news, and how he’d promised to make it so.

  “Ah, poor wee thing,” Quinn said.

  They sat in silence, trying to feel compassion for her, but filled with anxiety over how to handle it.

  “The child must be Pietro’s,” Quinn said after a moment.

  “Of course it is,” Lachlan said, jumping to Bella’s defence. “What do ye think of her? Or me?”

  Quinn closed his eyes, letting his head drop against the wall behind the pallet he sat on. “I’m no’ casting aspersions on anyone,” he explained. “I’ve grown quite fond of her, in fact. I rarely want to throttle her anymore. I only meant, the Glens must accept it as Pietro’s, no’ yours.”

  Lachlan felt a headache blossoming the like he hadn’t felt since he was so gravely ill from traveling to the future without a protection amulet. “I shall arrange somehow for her to meet with Pietro tomorrow. After he knows, we can make a new plan.”

  ***

  “I am going to kill ye,” Pietro said, after he’d had a few stolen minutes alone with Bella.

  Her face was pale, but her eyes were free of tears, and a tremulous smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. Lachlan nodded, letting Pietro blow off steam.

  They were in the fruit orchard. Bella had gone with her maid that morning, but then sent the maid back when the basket was full. Quinn watched by the edge of the trees for her return, on which Pietro would slip away down the back of the hill. They only had a few minutes until the maid came back with a new basket, maybe more if Quinn was able to charm her into flirting with him.

  “No, I’m being serious,” Pietro said. “That’s the new plan. We need you out of the picture, fast. There’s no time to be diplomatic or subversive anymore.”

  Lachlan looked at Bella, wondering how she could be standing so calmly by while Pietro spoke of murdering him. He thought they’d reached an understanding.

  He glanced to the edge of the orchard where Quinn still stood alone. He felt responsible for all of this, and wanted desperately to make it right, but he’d never been much of a martyr. He thought of Piper’s obsession with him being in the Glen crypt in her own time. Was this how he made it there? Should he let history right itself or fight for
his life? He frowned at Pietro.

  “Bloody hell, Lachlan,” Pietro said, pulling him further into the orchard. “It should be easy. I shall whip the ones who can be whipped into a frenzy of blood lust against ye. All we need are a few.”

  “Are ye really asking me to go along with my own murder?” Lachlan asked incredulously.

  Pietro threw up his hands. “No, ye idiot. Do ye not see?”

  Lachlan did not see and shook his head.

  “I haven’t worked out all the details, but obviously we wouldn’t really kill ye, fool. But ye could get away, go back to your land, or Piper if ye think ye could. These folk would think ye were dead, so leave ye alone.”

  Lachlan raised his eyebrows in shock at the simplicity and beauty of the plan. With his own plan, there was always the chance the Glens would get a bee in their bonnets and want to come after him again one day. If he were believed to be dead, they could just celebrate and forget about him. Pietro would be a hero, could marry Bella, and all would be right with Piper’s future.

  “That’s brilliant,” he said. He heard Quinn’s whistle, which signaled the maid’s imminent return. “Can ye work out the details in a hurry?”

  Pietro looked embarrassed. “As I said, it should be fairly easy to convince them. There’s a few who I’ve actually been keeping from killing ye. We’ll need to be careful, though, as it’ll have to be me, and we’ll have to be alone. Och, let me think for a day or two.”

  Pietro gave Bella a farewell kiss and ran from the orchard, just as the maid walked up, giggling at something Quinn said. She stopped abruptly and jumped a foot away from Lachlan when she saw he had joined her mistress. Lachlan barely acknowledged her indifferent curtsy, grunted a goodbye to his wife, then marched away with his brother trailing behind.

  “What?” Quinn asked when they were well out of earshot of anyone.

  “It seems I am to die,” Lachlan said, quickly explaining the rudimentary plan.

  It was clear Quinn didn’t like it one bit. “Do ye trust him?” he demanded. “Pietro Gardioli, or Connor McKellen, whatever he is.”