Cowal, Scotland

1312

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GRAHAM DIDN’T THINK but acted as he tore Bryce away from Christina. Aye, it made sense that he did such, but he wasn’t doing it to put on a show.

He was truly infuriated.

Bryce, it seemed, was just as angry. When his cousin chanted, and fire came roaring at him, Graham chanted right back and doused not only the fire but Bryce and mistakenly, Christina, in dank moat water.

“Enough,” his mother bit out as she stepped in front of him and glared up. “You’re first-in-command of this castle, Son. Act like it.”

“Bloody well straight,” Bryce sputtered, dripping wet as he glared at Graham.

Nicole spun and narrowed her eyes at Bryce. “And the last time I checked, you were a damn chieftain so shape up, Laird MacLeod.”

Bryce hung his head and sighed. “Aye, Auntie.”

Ma’s eyes whipped back to him, and she gestured loosely before she spat, “Come with me, Graham. We need to talk.”

When Adlin went to speak up, she shook her head sharply.

That, as usual, silenced his cousin.

It always amazed him how everyone fell beneath his mother’s wrath lately. His aunts said it was a combination of her being heartbroken over the loss of Fraser, then Rona being gone all the time, as well as Graham. Then there was mention of something called menopause. That, it seemed, was the true root of her power because his father and uncles always backed away and vanished when that plight came upon her.

He and his mother didn’t go far and certainly not far enough away from Christina before Ma spun on him with her hands planted on her hips and her eyes a little wild. “What the hell are you doing?” She poked him in the chest. “And where the hell have you been?” Before he could respond, her eyes welled, and she threw her arms around him, mumbling, “I was so damned worried about you. You have no idea.” She sniffled. “I worry every time you run off.”

Again, he tried to respond but had no chance to before she pulled back, wiped away tears that barely had a chance to fall and crossed her arms over her chest. Eyes narrowed, she shook her head. “Tell me what’s going on because I can already tell I don’t like any of it.” Her eyes shot to Christina then back to him. “And I’m not sure I like her either.”

Not sure was more than he dared hope given his mother’s current state. He imagined Christina managed to get that much approval because she was from the twenty-first century.

He knew he had to tell his mother what he would tell everyone else, but he was having trouble finding the words. Though he’d been keeping secrets more often than not lately, he had never lied straight to her face. Maybe he could manipulate his words to say things in such a way that he wasn’t really lying.

She tapped her foot when he didn’t respond right away. “Well?”

“I love her, Ma,” he announced, shocked when the words rolled off his tongue. That he was truly capable of lying to his mother for the greater good. “She’s the one meant for me. My one true love.”

“Really?” Her frown wavered a little, as though a smile might be lurking somewhere beneath. “Are you serious?”

“I am.” He nodded. “She’s the one.”

“Oh,” his mother said softly, tears welling again as she eyed him. “That’s sort of big, Son.”

“I know,” he said just as softly.

“She’s southern,” she commented.

“So?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. “I guess I’d hoped you might find a nice New England girl like myself.”

He just couldn’t help himself knowing full well his mother was not as sweet as she pretended. “Really, Ma? You were from Boston’s South End, and I’ve heard the tales of yer youth.”

“Watch your tongue, Graham.” Yet there was a flicker of humor in her eyes. “So you truly feel that Broun, MacLomain connection with her? That deep love?” She eyed him, clearly not all that convinced. “The sort of love your father and I share?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “I do. We do.”

“And the ring?” she asked, her eyes never leaving his face.

“What about it?”

“Does the gem shine?” She tapped the corner of her eye. “Is it the color of your eyes?”

Graham made to respond but tripped over his words. She didn’t need to use her magic to suddenly see the truth. No, she just used her motherly powers to see right through a plan he had barely had a chance to implement.

She flat out knew he was fibbing.

“Please, Ma,” he whispered. “Help me do what I need to do, aye?”

“Why should I when I don’t think I like her.” She narrowed her eyes at Christina again who was chatting with Bryce.

“Because I like her,” Graham said. “Verra much.”

His mother’s eyes returned to his and held for a long moment. “You do, don’t you?”

“Aye.” He nodded, never more truthful. “I’ve never enjoyed a lass’s company so much.” He grinned. “She makes me laugh.”

“You’re quick to laughter these past few years,” she countered. “Oddly enough despite all we’ve been through.”

She genuinely makes me laugh though, he nearly said but stopped himself. If he said that it might lead to more questions. Mainly about the chipper false front he put up far too often nowadays. Which might lead to secrets that ran too deep. Even from his mother.

“I care for her, Ma and that’s all that should matter right now in light of everything,” he said. “More than that, the poor lass just traveled back in time and is about to face some verra frightening things. Do ye not remember what it was like when ye first traveled back and met Da?”

“Oh, I remember,” she murmured as she sighed and cupped his cheek. “It just all looks a little different when you’re the mother of a highlander meeting his modern day lass. So bear with me, okay?”

He smiled and nodded, always amused by how modern she still sounded after living in medieval Scotland for well over twenty winters. But his mother was stubborn, so he supposed it made sense on some level. She would only adapt so much.

“So what’s next?” She pulled her hand away, worry in her eyes. “Is it your turn to go to the next historical battle and face a warlock?”

“Aye, I think mayhap ‘tis,” he said. “Though it could be Bryce.”

“We both know it’s not,” she said softly as she took his hand. “Just promise me you’ll stay safe, Graham. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

He frowned. “Stupid?”

“Yeah, stupid.” She stood on her tip-toes, kissed his cheek and clenched her jaw. “Like get yourself killed.”

“He knows better than that,” his father said as he joined them. “Aye, Son?”

“Aye, Da.” He embraced his father, always glad to see him. “How have things been here? Have the Sassenach been about?”

“Nay, not for a few weeks,” he replied. “It’s been...eerily quiet.”

He tensed at that. Quiet could be good or very, very bad.

“What of the surrounding clans?” He looked back and forth between his parents. “Any word? I know many were set to seek shelter here.”

“Aye and some have,” his father reported. “The MacLauchlins any moment now.”

He tensed even more, tempted to scan the woodline, better yet lead out scouts. “I will gather men to greet them.”

“Adlin’s already sent them,” his father said, watching him a little too closely. “With any luck, they should be here soon.”

“Good.” Graham nodded at his parents. “’Tis verra good to see ye both. We’ll talk more later, aye?”

Before they had a chance to respond, he headed Adlin’s way. It almost seemed his cousin anticipated his words because he spoke before Graham had a chance to.

“I sent twenty of our best warriors, Cousin,” Adlin said. “So ye need not worry.”

Because the countryside had become so dangerous, Adlin usually only trusted Graham to oversee things like this. That was half the reason he had spent so much time away from the castle the past few years. Not only did he help protect allied clans but often brought many back to seek shelter behind the castle walls.

“I will head out anyway,” he said, troubled. “They may need my help.”

“And leave yer new lass alone at such a crucial time?” Adlin frowned and shook his head. “Ye’ll do no such thing.”

“She willnae be alone.” Graham met his frown. “All of ye are here right now.”

“So ye are not worried about Laird MacLeod then?” Adlin sounded dubious. “When Milly and I came together, the verra last thing I would have been inclined to do was leave her alone with any man so interested in her.” He eyed Graham with amusement. “Especially one who just kissed her.”

He made a good point.

Graham kept frowning as his eyes drifted to Bryce who was by Christina’s side, enjoying her company. She, in turn, seemed to be equally enamored as they walked together over the drawbridge.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered and headed in that direction after he nodded to Adlin that he would remain here for now. Christina smiled when he joined her, clearly glad to see him again. But then she seemed to be offering that same charming smile to Bryce as well.

“My apologies for getting ye wet, lass,” he said. “’Twas not my intention.”

“No worries.” She grinned then scrunched her nose. “But a bath is gonna feel good because I’m pretty sure I stink.”

Not to him.

“Nay, not at all.” He took her hand and narrowed his eyes at his cousin. “Laird MacLeod, however, is another story.”

“Och,” Bryce muttered. “You’re lucky my dragon didnae go after you, Cousin.”

“Aye, ye might’ve had more than just the moat but the whole bloody loch thrown at ye,” Graham said. “Though I should have tossed as much at ye anyway for kissing my lass against her will.”

Smug, Bryce grinned. “I wouldnae say ‘twas against her will.”

“Well, it wasn’t voluntary,” she countered but certainly wasn’t chastising him as her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Bryce saw hope in that. “But ‘twas good, aye?” He shrugged. “It seems to be the thing to do with lasses from the future so I didnae think you would overly mind.”

“Actually...” Christina gave him an apologetic look. “Though you seem sweet enough, that can’t happen again, Bryce.” Her eyes went from him to Graham. “Because I’m already taken.”

Though Graham was pleased with her words, he found himself wishing he had waited a moment longer when Bryce first kissed her. Would she have kissed him back? Had there been a spark there? Because there were far more sparks than anticipated when Graham had kissed her.

He dragged his eyes from her face and tried not to think about how she had felt in his arms. How he had not wanted those kisses to end. They had fit together so perfectly. Not just their mouths but everything else. He could only imagine what it would be like to lie with her. To feel her soft but toned body against his.

She was in exceptionally good shape, and he had seen it first hand when she ran through the forest earlier. Yet he sensed something else as well. Magic. Her magic. It complimented her physical form somehow, giving her more speed and agility than the average human.

“So did Adlin mention if there had been any sign of Jessie?” Her worried eyes met Graham’s. “Because I assumed he pulled us back in time, right?”

“Actually, he didn’t,” Milly said, catching up with them. “It seems you two are mysteriously time-traveling like the rest of us did.” Her eyes met Christina’s. “Why, what’s going on with Jessie?”

Christina explained everything that happened. “It all started getting really strange right before we traveled back. As if, maybe, she might not have been there all that time. Or at least part of it.”

“What does that mean?” Bryce frowned. “Was she glamouring herself somehow?”

“Glamouring?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “’Tis a form of magic that allows a person to look like another or mayhap be in one spot when they are really someplace else.”

“Ah.” Christina shook her head. “I have no idea.” She shrugged. “Maybe. Because something definitely wasn’t quite right.”

Milly tilted her head in question at Bryce. “I thought glamouring was a dragon thing?”

“Aye, it typically is,” he said. “But it can sometimes happen otherwise. Our great uncle, Colin MacLomain, could do such a thing and he was no dragon but a wizard who could shape shift.”

Christina’s eyes widened. “So you’re saying Jessie might be a...shape-shifter?”

“Aye.” A little light entered Bryce’s eyes. “Or mayhap half dragon herself.”

“What?” Milly and Christina exclaimed at the same time.

“Ah, I heard another time-traveler had arrived,” Aunt Cassie announced as she and Uncle Logan approached and introduced themselves to Christina. She was clearly relieved they welcomed her a bit better than his mother had. She was also thrilled to meet the woman who had created the forum where she and her friends had met.

He had to give his aunt and uncle credit. Though times had been especially difficult for them since losing Fraser, they remained strong. Unified. Focused on their clan. Perhaps it was because they had led the MacLomains for so long and were determined to keep morale up or maybe it was something more. Maybe deep down they refused to accept their only son was gone.

“You poor thing. We need to get you cleaned up.” Aunt Cassie shook her head as she frowned at Graham and Bryce before smiling at Christina. “It’s not always easy being caught in the middle of wizards who clearly still have some growing up to do, is it?”

“It seems not,” Christina replied, grinning. She was about to say more but suddenly stopped, cocked her head as if listening to something, then whipped around.

Graham and Bryce followed as she sprinted back the way they had come. She moved so fast, they couldn’t keep up with her before she barreled right into his mother who had remained beyond the first portcullis talking with Rona.

“What the hell?” his ma gasped. For a split second, he and everyone else remained confused until Christina held up an arrow and mumbled, “I think trouble’s coming.”

Shocked by her unthinkably quick actions, he and Bryce glanced at each other, before Adlin started roaring orders and everyone sprang into action. Christina pulled his mother up, and they ran across the bridge with Da protecting them.

Meanwhile, Adlin went very still, eyed the forest and murmured a chant before he muttered, “I dinnae know who shot that bloody arrow but there’s trouble a ways out. Our men escorting Clan MacLauchlin are being attacked.”

“Sassenach?” Graham asked. Or something else? Uneasy, he remembered Jessie's cryptic warning to Christina back in New Hampshire. Something he probably should have mentioned by now. So he filled Adlin and Bryce in about what she had said. About another possible dragon coming that might be determined to ruin Scotland.

“Another dragon?” Adlin frowned and shook his head as he resumed giving orders. “Bryce, I need ye to stay and defend my castle. Embrace yer dragon if need be.” He spoke to Graham next. “Gather weapons and men. We’re riding out.”

He nodded and raced for the armory. After he had strapped on as many weapons as he could handle, he found his second-in-command and had him rally a handful of well-trained men. Christina was with Milly in the courtyard, more composed than he imagined she would be.

“Thank ye for saving my ma, lass.” He pulled her close as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Go into the castle with Milly and dinnae come out again until Bryce says it’s safe, aye?”

Christina nodded, her eyes skimming over his weapons. “You stay safe too, okay?”

Caught not only by the genuine concern in her eyes but the fear he felt leaving her behind, he kissed her with more passion than intended. When she kissed him just as deeply, he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight.

Pretending with this lass was very easy indeed.

“’Tis time, Cousin,” Adlin called out. His words barely got through until Da cleared his throat. “I willnae let anything happen to her, Son. I’ll keep her safe.”

Graham pulled away, brushed his fingers down her cheek then nodded before he turned away and swung onto his horse. Moments later he raced over the drawbridge, then across the field beyond the castle. When he glanced back, the gates were shutting, and Bryce was standing on the battlement above. He clenched the blade at his side and nodded at Graham in reassurance before they left the castle behind and flew into the forest.

“Be wary, men,” Adlin warned, able to enter everyone’s mind. “Someone shot that arrow and though I cannae sense them that doesnae mean they arenae about.”

As it turned out, they never came across anyone in the darkening forest, dragon or otherwise, but rode hard for some time before Adlin slowed. Graham frowned as he concentrated, trying to sense what his cousin did.

“Many Sassenach still live.” Adlin shook his head. “So expect the worst and prepare to fight.”

“We’ll not use our magic unless necessary,” he said into Graham’s mind. “In case a warlock or something else may be about.”

Based on the concern in Adlin’s internal voice, he realized his cousin was more daunted by that mysterious arrow than he let on. Did he think an unknown dragon was involved? Or mayhap a warlock? Perhaps to set a trap such as this or even worse, leave MacLomain Castle more vulnerable?

They left their horses behind and crept through the night until they spied campfires. Evil warlocks and mysterious dragons in mind, it seemed more of a trap based on how few men the Sassenach had guarding the area. Tired men without armor. The rest sat around campfires with many tied up nearby, including several MacLomain and MacLauchlin clansmen.

In any case, trap or not, they needed to save these people.

His heart in his throat, he searched their faces, eager to find one in particular. Where was she? He ground his teeth and clenched the hilt of his sword tightly, awaiting Adlin’s orders. Thankfully, he issued them soon after, and they took out the watchmen first. Graham came up behind the Sassenach closest to him and slit his throat before he attacked the small encampment alongside his comrades.

Seconds later, he heard a lass’s scream.

“Kenna,” he roared as he crossed swords with a soldier before he knocked the blade out of his hand, punched him in the face then kicked him hard in the gut.

He scanned the encampment as he crossed blades with another. They didn’t fight long before Graham lopped off his sword hand then sliced his throat open. His heart pounded as he kept eying the area while battling yet another.

There was no sign of her, but he knew she was here.

She must be in one of these tents.

“Kenna,” he roared again, unable to find his usual berserker laughter as he fought like a madman.

“Graham,” she screamed in reply.

She was close. A few tents over.

He cut down man after man, trying not to panic. Please don’t let it be too late. Please don’t let her be hurt.

Nothing but pure fury hazed his vision as he opened a tent flap to see a man on top of her. Enraged, not sure if she had been raped or not, Graham yanked him back, drove a blade into the side of his neck, and seethed, “Get off my wife ye bloody Sassenach.”