“Go fight him to be sure.” Thomas continued muttering under his breath about traitors as food and drink were served. “I’ve enough men. There’s no need to suffer a long, expensive siege.”
“Isn’t it safer to stay near the king, though?” Julie asked. “Why not stay here and fight outside the gates if need be?”
He frowned at her then gave Tiernan a look she wanted to wipe off his face.
“’Tis a sad day when a MacLomain lets his lass speak so boldly.” Thomas’ brows whipped together. “Especially when a lass should have no say in matters such as this.” His eyes narrowed on her. “’Tis clear enough she’s from these parts and should know better.”
“Excuse me,” Julie began but snapped her mouth shut when Tiernan shot her a look.
“I apologize, Regent,” Tiernan said dutifully. “’Twill not happen again.”
Before she could speak, he spoke in her mind. “Something is off with him, Julie. Set aside your anger and help me figure out what that is.” He looked at her and spoke aloud. “If ye hope to remain by my side ye best watch yer tongue, lass.”
This was going to take some patience, wasn’t it? Yet when she caught little David out of the corner of her eye peeking around the corner, she did what she needed to do.
“Of course,” she murmured softly, lowering her head subserviently. “I am sorry.”
Thomas didn’t bother with a response but continued sharing his battle strategy, which, as far as she could tell, pretty much stunk.
“So what are we thinking?” she said into Tiernan’s mind. “That a Disinherited is possessing him?”
“’Tis quite possible,” he replied. “Though you would think if that were the case, he would just do away with David now. He has easy enough access.”
“True.” She offered a small smile hello but little more when David peeked around the corner again. Best to keep Thomas’ attention off the boy. “I’d nearly forgotten that Thomas heard my voice as though I’m from here. Any new thoughts about that?”
“Only that you’re meant to be here,” came Aidan’s voice in their minds. Though tempted to glance at him in surprise because he’d not only heard their internal conversation but spoke telepathically, they remained focused on Thomas.
“You’re speaking in our minds, Cousin,” Tiernan remarked. “That's a good sign.”
“Aye,” Aidan agreed. “Verra.”
If he spoke after that, they didn’t hear him, so they questioned him later after leaving Thomas’ company. The regent had continued to treat her far differently than he had at the beginning, his regard for women callous.
“What happened back there, Aidan?” Tiernan asked. The three of them sat in front of a fire in one of the chambers they had been given for the night. “You mentioned that Julie’s accent sounded correct to Thomas because she was meant to be here, then you went silent.”
“Actually, I continued talking, but you never responded,” Aiden revealed. “I saw a flash of the Stonehenge in Ireland and knew for certain she was supposed to be here. So much so that her magic will do whatever it takes to ensure that. To see things through.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What does Thomas hearing a local accent have to do with me seeing things through?”
“I dinnae know,” Aidan replied. “All I know is what I told you. ‘Tis interesting that it happened right before your mind opened to mine, aye? As though ‘twas intentional.”
“You think ‘twas her ancestors sending her a message?” Tiernan said.
“Aye, to be sure.” Aidan wore a thoughtful expression. “But more than that too...a bridge of sorts struggling to connect a divide.”
“What does that mean?” she asked. “Like your magic getting back to what it should be?”
“In part,” Aidan said. “’Tis verra hard to describe but most welcome. Whatever it is, it means to connect those it wishes to protect.”
“Like MacLomains with fellow MacLomains not to mention MacLomains with Brouns?” She shook her head and glanced at Tiernan. “Though I thought that happened all on its own anyway.”
“It typically does,” he replied. “As they grow closer.” He looked at Aidan. “What you’re implying sounds like it’s happening beyond the normal MacLomain-Broun true love connection.”
“Mayhap,” Aidan said softly. “But why would that be? Telepathically connecting was always a telling part of MacLomains and Brouns coming together. It allowed them to know they were with the right person, did it not?”
“Aye,” Tiernan concurred. “But then their magic wasnae fluctuating. Their clansmen werenae forgetting MacLomains ever had magic.” His gaze went to Julie. “And they didnae have a Guardian Witch thrown into the mix to protect them. One who I know will keep us on course.”
“While I’m glad I’ve got your vote,” she sighed and sipped her whisky, “I’m not so sure you should be singing my praises quite yet.”
“Too late.” Aidan shrugged. “Besides, you always put Tiernan first and saved our good king. How can I not sing praises for such a lass?”
“Well, I appreciate your vote of confidence.” She toasted him. “Here’s hoping when push comes to shove I don’t let you down.”
“You will,” Tiernan whispered. She felt the strange sensation that washed over him when he looked at her with suddenly haunted eyes. “You willnae disappoint me...but ye will verra much disappoint someone.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“FOR A TIME there, I felt like we were on the right track, but now nothing feels right about any of this,” Julie said when he joined her at the window. Aidan had gone to sleep, and the hour was late. A swollen moon sat high in the sky, illuminating her in soft lunar light.
“I’ve got this nagging feeling that something horrible is going to happen,” she murmured.
He knew his cryptic comment about her eventually disappointing someone hadn’t helped. Saying it felt like a foggy dream he could barely remember. Though he seemed to have known who she would disappoint, now he had no clue, so his ominous message remained a mystery.
“Something horrible is going to happen according to history,” he said softly, referring to Thomas' imminent demise. That in itself could explain her nagging feeling. “Until then, all we can do is continue protecting wee David to the best of our ability.”
“Right, and let Thomas die.” She white-knuckled the windowsill. “Which seems more and more likely considering he won’t just stay here at the castle like he should.”
“’Tis not meant to be.” He pulled her back against him. They gazed out over the woodland and flickering torchlight of Edinburgh. “If he did, history would not unfold as it should.”
“I know.” She leaned her head back against his chest. “Gotta say, after all these years watching over time-travelers, I thought I had a grasp on what they dealt with, but I had no clue. I had no idea how hard it could be.” She sighed. “Because one way or another, I imagine it was just as difficult for all of them.”
“Yet, they got through it.” He kissed the top of her head. “They faced what they had to, no matter how fearful. No matter how much they worried about letting others down. And they succeeded.”
“You’re using my own words on me.” She turned in his arms. “Don’t think I don’t remember.”
“Aye, but they were good words.”
He thought back to the day he’d sought her out not just for advice but the comfort of being with someone who had always been there for him. She was every bit as important as his kin. More so, actually.
“You knew this day was going to come,” she had said, strolling through the Salem Stonehenge with him. They were out to enjoy the autumn day and its riot of colors. “You knew you’d become chieftain.”
“Aye, but I didnae think ‘twould come so soon.” He watched her out of the corner of his eye, wishing he could pull her into his arms at last. Wishing she could stay by his side as his wife when he became laird. “Da is still plenty young enough to be chieftain.”
“But old enough to want to enjoy a few years with your mom before he’s too old,” she pointed out. “He and Milly deserve it more than most.” Her eyes widened. “You know how much work goes into running a clan, especially one the size of yours.” She shook her head. “You’re still young, unattached, well-liked, and pretty damn smart, so it makes sense to hand the reins over to you.”
“What if I dinnae measure up to da?” He sighed. “What if I let them down?”
“You can’t think like that.” She stopped and met his eyes, her hair turning to pure fire in the setting sun. “Not only are you amazing with others, but you’re the son of Adlin and Milly MacLomain.” She perked a brow. “Not to mention you’re an arch-wizard.” She shook her head again. “How could you even doubt yourself for a second? I certainly don’t.”
“Because you only see the good in me,” he muttered. “You dinnae see my flaws.”
“Sure, I do.” She quirked the corner of her mouth. “You’re stubborn and a little too picky about women, in my opinion.”
“Picky about women?” Because none of them are you. But he couldn’t say that. “Lasses arenae a priority right now.” He shrugged and moved the conversation along. “And the stubbornness cannae be helped. I'm Scottish.” He slanted her an amused look. “Those are my only flaws, then?”
“Yup, and honestly, I’m not so sure I would even call your stubbornness a flaw.” She grinned. “Mostly, it’s just charming.”
“Och, you really do only see the good in me then.”
“Maybe, but then you make it easy.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him with both compassion and a sternness she rarely displayed. “If Adlin feels confident enough that you're ready to take over, then I do too.” She gave him a pointed look. “That means there’s no room for fear and insecurity. It’s time to serve your clan the way you were always meant to. You face what you have to, no matter how fearful you might be.” She shook her head, knowing him all-too-well. “No matter how much you worry about letting others down.”
The sun sank more and hit a stone in such a way that for a second, it seemed like her fiery hair connected to it through a long stream of light.
Much like the ley-lines now guiding them.
“Bloody hell,” he whispered, returning to the present, absolutely certain he was right. “’Twas your magic even then...struggling to break free.”
“I followed what you were thinking about,” she murmured, contemplating. “You know I never realized how often we went to that Stonehenge. How many conversations we had there.”
“Often and many,” he concurred, amazed now that he gave it more thought. “You took me there to explore when I was a child, then coached me through my teenage years at those verra stones.”
“I even brought you there when you were an infant,” she said softly, fondness and amazement in her eyes. “Come to think of it, that particular stone was the first one I brought you to in order to show you...”
When she trailed off, he finished for her.
“To show me the sun set over the stone that aligns with the summer solstice,” he said softly. “And you took me there on the actual solstice.”
“Wow,” she whispered. “What are we supposed to make of that other than my magic possibly being at work already?”
He thought about it. What other relevance it might have.
“Typically, the solstice is a symbol of new beginnings and ends.” He cocked his head in consideration. “Though many cultures believe many things, your magic seems tied in with the Celts. For those from Ireland, the summer solstice was a time to honor Goddess Étaín.” He narrowed his eyes. “’Twas also a time to banish evil spirits and open up a path towards light and abundance which typically meant a good harvest. But I sense Guardian Witches meant it quite literally.”
“They did,” she said softly, certainty in her eyes as they met his. “My ancestors harnessed the power of the solstice to banish the Disinherited when they tried to stop Adlin’s conception. Essentially they opened up a path of light and a way forward for the MacLomains. A way to exist and do all the good they would do over the centuries.” She shook her head. “And I don’t think anyone, wizards and mortals alike, knew about it. Not until us right here right now.”
“And now the evil spirits, or Disinherited, are no longer banished,” he replied. “But have found a way to return.”
“Yes.” She nodded, a strange look in her eyes, her voice momentarily deadpan. “They were a secret brotherhood. Righteous, entitled men with dark hearts.” She blinked several times, snapping out of it, her tone normal again as she put his concern for her at ease. “I'm okay. That was my ancestors speaking through me.” She shook her head. “Not the bad guys.”
“Grant was absolutely right,” she went on. “We’re at the beginning of something that won't be easy to banish, but because of us, I think we have access to the light again. We stand half a chance of wiping out what’s rising up.” Her eyes met his with conviction. “We’ve got to close off access to the Calanais Stones though. If we don’t do that, they’ll harness the power of the other sites far too easily, and there will be no stopping them.”
“Yet we still dinnae know how to do that,” he murmured.
“We will,” she said softly, suddenly distressed. “Soon too.” Fear flashed in her eyes. “Whatever it is we need to do to close off the Calanais Stones from the Disinherited ties in with the bad feeling I have.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “It hurts my heart, Tiernan.” Her eyes welled. “There’s this heaviness...like unimaginable grief.”
“’Twill be all right, lass.” He wrapped her up in his arms. “’Tis always all right when MacLomains go up against evil.”
She didn’t respond, just wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. Eventually, she whispered, “Can we pretend for tonight that everything’s normal?” Her eyes returned to his. “That we’re simply visiting a medieval castle and getting ready to go to bed like a normal couple?”
Yet another thing he had longed for over the years.
“Aye, lass.” He brushed a curl back from her cheek. “I would like nothing more.” He offered a crooked grin, determined to put a smile back on her face. “What, precisely, do you mean by normal, though?”
“Anything that doesn’t include trying to figure out what’s next.” She stood on her tip-toes, cupped his cheeks, and brushed her lips across his. “Anything that makes me forget all the bad stuff that might lie ahead.”
Of the same mind, knowing full well what she needed, he propped her on the window ledge and came between her thighs. He didn’t chant them out of their clothing but kept things as normal as possible. Yet he soon realized normal was nearly impossible when it came to her. When it came to the feel of her lips opening beneath his and the sweet taste of her tongue.
He kept one arm around her to anchor her safely and explored her soft, womanly contours with his free hand while continuing to kiss her. Sometimes lightly, sometimes more passionately, all the while relishing the feel of her. From the curvature of her breasts to the downy softness of the fine hair at the nape of her neck. He ran his hand along her delicate collarbone then down the side of her waist.
As he touched her, she did the same, feeling him as though she’d never felt him before, exploring his chest, arms, and abdominal muscles with eager hands. The more her passion grew, the more impatient she became, wrapping her legs around his waist, tugging at his tunic.
“Patience, lass,” he murmured against her lips, thrusting slowly against the material between her legs, teasing. “’Twill come soon enough.”
“Yeah, it will,” she murmured back. Suddenly, their clothes vanished without being chanted away. Had she done that? She must have. Before he could make sense of it, before he even had a chance to note her eyes weren’t quite right again, she grabbed his arse and steered him into her.
Caught by the exquisite sensation, he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to. All he could do was grasp her bac
kside and thrust deep. She cried out and dug her nails into his back, but he barely felt it. All he felt was the mind-blowing sensation of being inside her. The feeling of thrusting, again and again. Drawing closer to what he ultimately craved. What he needed like nothing else.
“Follow me,” she gasped. “Follow it back to me.”
Assuming she meant release, he did just that, thrusting one last time as she locked up and hit her pinnacle at the same moment as him. Lost in the feel of her milking him, it took a moment to realize she cried softly against his shoulder.
“What is it, lass?” he whispered, sensing those weren’t tears of joy. He tilted her chin until her eyes found his. “What’s the matter?”
“That’s part of the horrible feeling I’ve got.”
“What’s part?”
“You,” she whispered. Her lower lip wobbled. “You’re at the heart of my grief, Tiernan.” She shook her head. “Because I can’t be certain you follow it back to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE NEXT DAY dawned dreary, a bleak beginning to even bleaker news.
“Is Thomas serious?” She frowned at Tiernan and Aidan. “Tell me he’s joking.”
“Nay, the wee lad is in the courtyard ready to leave.” As upset as they were, Aidan shook his head. “I cannae imagine what Thomas is thinking bringing the king beyond the safety of these walls. Especially when he knows he’ll be fighting Balliol.”
“I dinnae think he’s thinking clearly at all.” Tiernan gave them a grim look. “I think one of the Disinherited is at work here.”
“But why not finish the wee king here then?” Aidan said. “Why draw this out?”
“Because they need something,” Julie murmured, sure of it. “Something they can’t get if they simply kill him here.” She met Tiernan’s eyes. “Remember, there’s more to this than Balliol becoming sole king.”
A Scot's Pledge (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #1) Page 16
