Highlander's Beloved 02 - A Highlander's Passion (17 page)

“Damn him to hell.” Fer all the pain her mum had suffered at the hands of Fauste—or Gerrund as her mum called him—Kenzie shed tears of sorrow and sadness. Sobs of agony shuddered through her body over the humiliation and degradation her mum had endured at the hands of this monster—fer she refused to think of Fauste as her da. All the while, Bryce gently swayed her in his strong arms and hummed a tune. She blew her nose and asked him about the tune’s title.

“
ʼ
Tis a song I hum and sometimes sing to calm Colleen when she’s upset. ‘
Go to Sleep
Me Baby
.’ ”

She pushed away from him and stared. “Sweet Lord, yer singing me a lullaby?”

“Nay. I’m humming. When I use words, then I’m singing.” His slow, sexy smile spread. Oh, God, the man was so gorgeous. “It worked though, didna it? Ye stopped crying. I’d have sung a more bawdy song, but I was afraid ye’d blacken me other eye if I did.”

“Och,
ʼ
tis a scoundrel, ye are. But I love ye. I love how ye protect me even from something as small as getting upset over a video.”

His expression changed. The smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. “Dinna make light of yer feelings. Ye have every right to be damn pissed and to experience deep pain. Yer father was a bloody bastard who hurt ye and yer mum. Do ye agree to waiting until later tonight to watching the rest of it? I’m thinking ye and Effie should spend a few nights here, fer me own peace of mind. I need to ken yer safe.”

“Will I be sleeping in yer bed?”

His gaze was direct and determined. “Aye. We are engaged. Me family willna care.”

“What about Colleen? What kind of example will we be setting fer her? I want her to respect her new mum.”

“I’ll think on that today, of how I’ll explain it to her. But ye’ll be sleeping in me arms tonight.” He pecked her lips. “When yer mind wanders from the movie today, I want ye to think on another night in me embrace. On many nights. Dinna think on Fauste. He is me responsibility. Mine. Fer I will keep me woman safe.”

A tiny knock sounded at the door.

Bryce smiled. “
ʼ
Tis Colleen,” he whispered.

“Who is it?” he barked.

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

There was giggling from the other side of the door. “Wilby.”

Bryce nearly smiled from ear to ear. “Wilby, who?”

“We’ll be late for the movie if ye dinna hurry up.”

“Now comes the part where I snatch the door open and grab her.” He set Kenzie aside and ran fer the door, turned the key, and yanked it open.

Colleen squealed and leaped into his arms. “Did I fool ye, Da?”

“Aye, ye did. I didna ken who the madman was who knocked at the door.”

What a beautiful sight they were, da and daughter teasing each other. Had she ever shared moments like that with her own da? Nay, she doubted he ever had time fer her. He was too busy learning about the dark side and initiating Rune. What sights had her twin brother seen and been a party to so he would make his father happy? What kind of an immoral young man had Fauste turned her brother into?

A gigantic sob, a wail of colossal pain coalesced in her chest and Kenzie struggled to keep it there so she wouldna frighten the child. While Bryce and Colleen laughed and teased each other, she slipped out the side door of Creighton’s office and ran fer the front entrance of the lodge. She needed fresh air. Bloody hell, she needed to scream until she was hoarse and her body was emptied of all the sick pain. With all the anger she had in her fer Fauste, she could kill him with her bare hands.

As she jogged fer the wooded area along the side of the lodge, some unseen force called her toward the bridge.

After he’d run frantically through the house calling Kenzie’s name, movement caught the corner of Bryce’s eye from one of the front windows. Kenzie was leaning over the rocks edging the sides of the moat’s bridge, throwing up. A man he didna recognize, wearing a kilt made of the Matheson blue and green tartan, sauntered toward her. “Creigh, do ye ken that guy?” He motioned his brother to the window with his index finger. “The one heading fer Kenzie on the bridge?”

Creighton joined him, leaned toward the glass, and squinted. “Nay, but he’s wearing our tartan. I better go see who he is. I ken everyone in our clan. Bloody hell, a lynx is circling him.”

“What?” Effie, who’d just changed out of her baffies, elbowed her way between both of them to see who they were looking at. “Holy hell!” She swung toward the wide doorway. “It’s him! It’s Fauste! I’ll be damned if I’ll let him take Sparrow!” She yanked open the door and sprinted out in her high heels, screaming a curse.

As Bryce ran behind her, he inhaled. He didna smell sulfur. What would give Effie the impression…of course: the lynx. The large cat leaped, clawing and biting at the stranger’s neck. Growing claws of his own, the man tore at the cat’s flesh. The lynx howled and fell to the ground, bleeding.

Bryce tensed, anger boiling within when Fauste fuking touched his woman, then wrapped his arms around Kenzie’s waist and lifted her until her feet dangled.

Both Bryce and Creighton shifted into their bear forms as Kenzie beat the stranger with her fists, kicking and screaming to break free of his grasp. The wind shifted, transporting the odor of rotten eggs Bryce’s way.

Do ye smell that, Creigh?
ʼ
Tis sulfur.
Now there was no mistaking the stranger’s true identity.

The bears roared as they followed Effie down the lodge’s steps. Her chant grew louder—

“Wizard Fauste is puny and weak,

When up against this high priestess.

You’ll not get the woman you seek;

My coven beseech King Morpheus.”

With one arm, Fauste tucked Kenzie against his side as if she were a bag of potatoes. She thrashed against his hold. At Effie’s curse, he flung his daughter sideways like a rag doll. With the force of the impact, Kenzie rolled against the rocks, hitting her head.

Bryce’s bear raced to Kenzie. Fer a few seconds she lay still, as if stunned—or unconscious. Bright blood ran down the side of her face, over her temple and cheek. He nudged her with his snout. She moaned.

He’s made her bleed. The fuker dies!

Steady, Bryce, we need a plan.
Creighton stood on his hind legs and roared again.

Fauste threw back his head and issued a maniacal laugh at Effie. “You think you and your bears scare me, old witch? No one keeps me from having who or what I want.” He leaned toward her, his skin turning green for a moment. “No creature can stop me—and certainly not an old witch.”

I will not let him take her.
Bryce’s bear pulled Kenzie toward his chest to offer protection.

We circle and wait fer our moment to attack.

His natural instinct was to rip apart the man who’d hurt Kenzie, but she clung to him. “Dinna leave me. Not yet. Give me a couple minutes.” The faint odor of urea signaled her fear, but he sensed her struggling to find and hang on to her courage as she groped through his fur. Fer him. Fer some of his strength. Damn, he was proud of her, fer she wasna about to yield.

Bryce? She okay?
Creigh was stalking their prey, but glanced his brother’s way.

Aye, she’s got fight in her. Needs to catch her breath, is all.
He reached to scoop up the injured lynx, holding it against his warmth too.

Effie charged her adversary. Bright-colored lightning bolts flashed from her pink-painted fingertips. Fauste flipped away from her aim. He returned fire with green claws and the old woman ducked. Red flames shot from his mouth.

Bryce’s bear looked at his brother, fer he’d never seen anything like the battle before them.
Creigh, what the bloody hell?

Effie and Fauste exchanged neon yellow and orange lightning bolts, arching from both her fingertips and his claws. The explosions were loud, the stench of burnt flesh strong. Blisters rose on Effie’s skin, but not Fauste’s. He hurled a searing smoke bomb at her. Flames erupted over Effie’s head, turning the pink hair to red-orange, then brown foul-smelling smoke as first her hair and then her scalp burned.

Bryce’s bear telepathically communicated to his eldest brother.
Kenzie’s doing better. I’ll attack from the left, you from the right.

Aye. We’ll take him. Effie canna handle much more.

Kenzie stood and somehow—magically—gained a bucket on a rope. She tugged a filled container from the rippling brook in the moat, then tossed water like a sparkling salve on Effie’s head to distinguish the flames.

Kenzie tugged a smoke bomb from Effie’s trembling hand and heaved it at Fauste. A shower of orange sparks exploded across his head and shoulders. With a twirl of his wrist, a jewel-handled sword appeared in his hand from thin air. “You want to fight your father, little girl?” His silver eyes changed to white. He sneered an evil smirk. “Do you think you can best me? Or are you weak like your mother?”

“How dare ye speak of me sainted mum?”

Fauste laughed again and leaned forward, legs spread, tossing the sword from one hand to the other. “That was always her problem. Anatol hated anything bad, no matter how
good
bad can feel. Oh, the things I could teach you.” His voice turned enticingly sensual. “Oh, the sweet pleasures I could introduce you to. Come with me. I’ll show you how to enjoy all the dark desires of the world.”

“I am Macha Verena, one of The Protectors, and ye will not hurt me charge anymore, Johann Fauste.”

“Yes, I had heard you were being trained. Better to be trained by your father than this old hag, too feeble to hold her own. Your blood is pure Wiccan—your mother’s and mine. Think how strong I could make you. Why, you could have anything you ever wanted.”

The two bears circled the wicked wizard. Their presence didna seem to intimidate him, fer he circled them too, shooting flames from his claws to singe their fur coats. A musty stench filled the air. At each incendiary blast, the bears rolled across the ground to put out the fire, to ease the burn, but also to cleanse some of the disgusting odor of burnt fur that tainted the air.

Kenzie charged Fauste. “No way would I go with ye, fer ye are the devil’s spawn. I’m not as easily swayed to the dark side as Rune.”

“Be careful what you say”—Fauste trailed the edge of the sword’s blade across Kenzie’s neck and blood-coated her skin—“I might change your mind.”

Kenzie stumbled backward, eyes glazed with shock.

Anger fisted in Bryce’s chest.
The fukin’ bastard has hurt her. He must die. Kill him. Kill!

Bryce’s bear attacked. A mighty roar ricocheted off the surrounding hills. His claws raked deep in the wizard’s chest and his jaws clamped on his neck, tearing tendons and veins. Fauste swung the sword twice over his blond head before he lowered it. Skin spliced, and pain erupted through Bryce’s leg. He squeezed his eyes tight. His teeth clenched. The coppery scent of blood invaded his nose and pain seared his leg.

Effie scrambled to her feet. Fer a woman in her seventies, the injured witch was one mean fighter. She did a spinning back kick in her high heels, and knocked the sword from Fauste’s grasp. She had him on his back, her stiletto in his neck. Hell, she wasna even out of breath as she chanted the words she’d spoken earlier.

Bryce and Creighton each bit into one of Fauste’s ankles. Bones snapped as they held his legs in place, both their claws digging into his cold flesh. Kenzie snatched the handle of the sword and, with a grunt of strength, planted it in Fauste’s chest. She made a quick rotation, his ribs cracking, before yanking the sword back out.

“Oh, I do love a worthy adversary.” The man from the dark side wheezed. Then he transformed into a shimmering puddle of water and floated skyward as a dark cloud.

Bryce’s bear snatched Kenzie toward him, blowing hard and trying to ignore the piercing pain of the cut in his hind leg. His eyes swept over her. Blood coursed down her face and neck, soaking the top of her T-shirt. Her knees were scraped and bleeding.

“I’m okay, Bry. What about ye? Yer leg’s been cut.” Her hand scratched behind his ears, and he welcomed her touch. “I love both sides of ye. I have since we were kids.” She leaned her head against his jowls and kissed his fur. “When Fauste’s sword sliced through yer leg as if it were butter, I nearly died. You make me mad as hell at times, but I love ye more every day.” She burrowed farther into his fur and his front legs embraced her. “Does it hurt, love? What can I do to help ye? Can ye shift so ye can talk to me?”

Didna his calico-eyed sweetheart ken her words of love, so freely given, were all the salve his body needed? What was a little damn cut? His woman loved him. She needed him. In a couple weeks, they’d be married—his human and her. But she loved his bear side, too, and that endeared her to him all the more.

Kenzie’s attentions moved toward Effie. “Sweet Lord, is Effie all right?” She crawled toward the old woman, who was gasping fer air.

Paisley ran toward them from the lodge, clutching her grandmother’s purse. “She needs her heart pills.” She dropped to her knees next to Effie, rummaged through her purse, and leaned it toward Effie in fearful exasperation. “Where are they?”

Effie’s trembling hand rose to touch an outside pocket.

Paisley’s fingers extracted a silver pill holder. “Open your mouth for me, Gram. Lift your tongue.” Once her grandmother complied, she slipped a tiny pill under her tongue. Paisley tugged her cell phone from her pocket and thumbed some numbers. “I’m calling for an ambulance.” She glanced around at everyone. “Or two.”

As the bears shifted back to human form, their mum ran out of the house, her arms full of clothes and boots. “Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I never witnessed anything like that in me entire life. I made Cook take Colleen to the kitchen so she couldna see.” She released the pile of clothes and then dropped to her knees. She kissed Effie’s nonblistered hand.

“Sweet Pea.” Effie’s voice was weak. “Go inside. Lie down. Protect the baby.”

“I’m fine, Gram. I won’t leave you. Ever.”

Creighton placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “I’m thinking ye should listen to yer gram so as not to cause any undue stress on her, ye, or the bairn.”

Paisley shot her husband an irritated, narrow-eyed glare. “I’m thinking you should cover your naked ass. I would never do anything to harm our child. But you, you big galoot.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her. “If you do anything to get hurt, I will simply fall apart. ‘Do ye ken what I’m saying, lad?’ ” she said, faking a Scottish burr, and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips, love gleaming in his eyes.

“Aye, beloved.” Creighton’s large hand stroked her blonde hair. “I ken yer meaning, fer I would fall apart without ye.”

His mum hurried to Bryce to run a hand down his cut leg, and when he hissed at the contact, Paisley focused on her mother-in-law. “How bad is it, Fiona?”

“Deep.” She cupped his cheek. “Ye’ll need lots of stitches, son.”

Paisley’s training as a veterinary assistant kicked in, even though she was dealing with humans. “Fiona, run and bring me antibiotic cream and lots of bandages. Do you have tubes of burn ointment and a clean sheet to cover Gram?” Paisley swiveled on the balls of her feet. “Kenzie, how did you get hurt? You’re bleeding so much.”

Fiona ran back toward the lodge, yelling she’d bring bottles of water too. “I’d best call Earnan to meet them at the hospital.” As the bear sleuth’s veterinarian, he often treated both sides of the shifters, the bear and the human.

Kenzie answered Paisley’s questions. “I have a few places that sting a little. Just me nerves, I’m thinking. Bryce needs more medical care than I do.” Her gaze darted to the old woman lying prone on the road. “I didna know what to do to help her.” She waved an open hand at Effie and appeared to fight back tears. “When…when her hair caught fire, a rope with a bucket attached suddenly appeared in me hand. Everything happened so fast, I…I didna have time to question the whys or the hows of it. I just filled it so I could douse the fire in her hair.

“I’d been out here crying from what I’d learned in the video Bryce and I watched. It was so bad, I was throwing up when this man approached. He looked and sounded Scottish, but once I got a whiff of sulfur, I kent who he really was.”

“He’ll be back, but in a different form. It’s best we stay here where more men can protect us.” Effie’s voice sounded stronger. “How much of my hair is gone? Do they make wigs in pink?”

Paisley broke into tears. “Oh, Gram! You and your damn pink hair.” Fiona returned with the ointment and sheets, and Paisley squeezed liberal amounts over her grandmother’s many burns.

Kenzie touched Paisley’s bent head. “Do ye mind if I recite a healing chant me aunt Una often used?”

“No. Whatever you think might help.” She kept squeezing ointment over the many burns.

Swaying her hands over Effie’s body, Kenzie recited—

“God in heaven, angels abound,

Take this illness and turn it around.

Bring us healing. Grant us peace.

Take the pain and give release.”

An ambulance wailed in the distance. Bryce’s heart was still doing double time in his chest as his mum helped him step into his boxers. She wrapped bandages around the cut in his thigh, then he jerked on his T-shirt, but all he could think about was his fiancée. “I want ye seen by the medical personnel, luv. We dinna ken for sure how bad that fukin’ bastard hurt ye. There’s a cut and swelling on yer forehead and a cut across yer neck from his sword. I dinna like all that blood.”

“What about the wound on yer thigh? It’ll need stitches too. I guess our plans fer the theater have changed. Poor Colleen will be so disappointed.” She snuggled in his arms and repeated the chant over him a couple times. He kissed her between each repetition of her recitation. Dear God, how he loved his woman.