My Seductive Highlander (24 page)

“Kismet is more lethal than she looks and she's been hankerin' for a good fight. Things have been entirely too quiet around here lately.” Granny sat the disgruntled-looking black cat on the custom-made padded board attached to the front of Lilia's saddle.

“If you ask me, she looks pissed about having her nap disturbed.” Lilia smoothed a hand down Kismet's back and was rewarded with a soft growl. “See?”

Granny waved her words away and patted Lilia's leg. “She'll take care of you, gal, as best she can even if she is in a foul mood. She loves you as much as I do. She just doesn't always show it.”

“If you say so.” Granny sending her guardian along touched Lilia's heart more than she could say. Only the eldest time runner of each line was blessed with a guardian to help them navigate through life from cradle to grave. A guardian was a kindred soul—a lifelong friend and protector.

“I promise I'll watch out for her.” Lilia looked past Granny. Trulie and Chloe were patiently waiting at the edge of the bailey, holding their torches high to beat back the darkness while the men readied the horses. Lilia had insisted they leave as soon as possible. She didn't care that it was well past midnight by the time they got the supplies readied. A frantic urgency gnawed at her heart. Daybreak would be soon, but waiting for the full rising of the sun to begin their journey would waste too much precious time.

Lilia sat taller in the saddle, forcing a smile to Trulie. “I'll watch out for Karma too, Sis. I promise.”

“Watch out for yourself,” Trulie advised. “Karma and Kismet will be fine. They're wicked sly when they need to be.”

“I wish I could send Oren wi' ye but Mama said no.” Chloe scurried up, stretched on her tiptoes, and held out a length of purple ribbon. “Tie this 'round yer braid. 'Twill bring ye luck in gettin' Uncle Graham back.”

“Thank you, Chloe.” Lilia took the ribbon and tied it tightly around her hair. “I feel safer already and I'll have Uncle Graham back in no time.”
I hope,
she silently added.

Chloe blew a kiss then scampered back to her mother. Oren perched on the wooden hitching post beside her. The great white owl spread his wings their full glorious span then fluttered them a bit before resettling them back against his body. It was almost as though the bird, in his own way, was blessing the journey and wishing them luck too.

“Are ye ready then?” Gray brought his horse up beside her. His dark scowl almost made her laugh out loud. All the men were more than just a little perturbed that she was coming along. But once she'd shown them how good she was with a sword and bow, they acquiesced—grudgingly.

Granny, Trulie, and Chloe waved their torches one last time then hurried back inside the keep. Lilia clenched the reins tighter, hoping the family superstition held true. Granny had taught them all at an early age that you should never watch your loved ones leave. If you did, you risked them never returning. Always part face to face with kind words and a smile. That guaranteed your loved one would have a safe journey and make it back home safe as well.

Gray cast a frowning glance at Colum and the three other MacKenna warriors selected for the task. With an almost imperceptible nod, he turned his horse and led them all through the bailey, under the ancient stone arch carved with the clan crest, then across the bridge connecting the impenetrable stronghold of MacKenna Keep to the mainland.

Once safely across the bridge, Karma took the lead. He looked like a silent shadow skimming across the ground, his trotting lope at an impressive land-eating pace. Lilia urged her horse to catch up with the great black dog and stay close to him. Odds were that Karma would find the Buchanans faster than the several runners Gray had sent out ahead of them to home in on the rival clan and discover their location. Karma's instincts and sense of smell missed nothing.

Lilia fought the desire to push her mount into full gallop.
Gotta be patient.
Levelheaded. Save berserker mode for the Buchanans.

Gray and Colum caught up with her, aligning their horses on either side of her.

“Stay between us. Aye?” Gray said. The half-light of approaching dawn made his dark look even more stern. There'd be no arguing with her brother-in-law on this point.

“If anythin' happens to ye, there'll be hell to pay with Mother Sinclair and yer sisters,” Colum added, his reddish-blond brows knotted with a stern look of his own.

Lilia didn't bother answering. Just rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Protective alpha males.
Delightfully delicious but hardheaded. Lilia hitched back the urge to give in to tears. What she wouldn't give to have her own hardheaded alpha back in her arms right now.

Glancing to her right, Lilia looked past Colum's wild red hair whipping in the wind. A pale morning mist, soft as a lover's touch, already stroked the rugged unforgiving landscape. This close to the sea, the land was wild and rocky but even in the gentle light of the new day, velvety patches of green and stunning purples of blooming heather hinted at the breathtaking beauty the full rising of the sun would soon reveal.

Cresting the sea, the horizon was just beginning to lighten. The warm yellow-pink glow slowly crept ever higher, brushing away the winking lights of the stars. The sun's fiery rim barely peeped above the glistening waves as though shy about bringing the dawn.

New day. New hope.
They had to get to Graham today. Lilia worried with the leather reins, willing Graham to hold on.
I'm coming, baby. Fast as I can.

Karma's deep baying bark interrupted her thoughts and the rhythmic pounding of her horse's hooves against the packed earth.

“He's found something.” Lilia spurred her mount faster, rushing to cross the narrow glen and catch up with the dog somewhere beyond the next hill.

“Dammit, woman!” Gray thundered past her, his sword already drawn. “Stay back until we see what the beast has found.”

“Like hell I will.” Lilia crouched lower, urging her horse into full gallop. Gaelic cursing filled the air around her, triggering a wicked smile as she clenched the reins tighter and leaned forward like a seasoned jockey. Her brothers-in-law might as well learn now: she did as she wished, not as she was told.

Lilia crested the next hill then pulled her mount to a full stop.

Gray had stopped his horse, his form seeming quite relaxed. He sat with hands folded atop the front of his saddle and head tilted slightly to one side. As Lilia pulled up beside him, he nodded toward the base of the hill at a lone tree growing beside the glistening path of a creek. “It appears Karma has somethin' for us—and though the light be dim—I do believe that be a Buchanan plaid in the beast's mouth.”

Lilia was first down the hillside. She eased her horse closer, peering up into the leafy branches of the great sprawling oak that had more than likely thrived for centuries in the sheltered glen beside the stream.

Gray, Colum, and the other three MacKenna warriors followed behind her with their weapons readied.

Karma stood at the base of the tree, hackles up, fangs bared, and the remains of a shredded plaid snagged in his bottom teeth. Gnashing and popping his jaws, he lunged upward against the broad gray trunk of the tree. His deep booming bark nearly shook the ground.

Kismet perked up, sitting taller on her padded seat. Ears pitched forward and the tip of her tail twitching, the black cat vibrated with a high-pitched growl. Her tail slowly grew in diameter, puffing up from the very tip and lifting a stiffened ridge of hair all the way up her back to between her ears.

“Who's your friend, Karma?” Lilia slowly circled the tree without dismounting. She finally spotted a pale hairy leg wrapped around the trunk. A helpful breeze shifted the leaves and smaller branches, revealing the hairy ass attached to the leg. Whoever it was had climbed as high as he could go to perch in the safety of the tree limbs that would still support his weight.

“A Buchanan bastard.” Gray pointed to the plaid. “Those are definitely their colors.”

“Call off yer beast!” The branches shook and the bare ass disappeared, replaced by one bare foot and one foot in a half-eaten boot trembling on the limb. A grubby hand shoved the leaves aside, revealing an equally filthy face. The man squatted low, balancing an elbow on one knobby knee, his sagging man parts swinging down from his nasty matted crotch. “Call off yer beast and release me or the chieftain shall hear of this.”

“I am the chieftain,” Gray replied.

“Yer no'
my
chieftain,” the man sneered down at them. “My fealty lies wi' the Buchanan and he'll make ye rue the day ye e'er stepped on Buchanan land.”

“This is MacKenna land, fool,” Colum said.

“No' for much longer—no' when the Buchanan finishes wi' ye.”

“You talk amazingly brave for a man who's bare-assed and trapped in a tree.” Lilia paced the horse back and forth, taking care to stay out of spitting distance. She knew this guy's type without a scan of his feelings. “The Buchanans took two men as prisoners. Ambushed them farther north of here. Where are they now?”

“Yer the witch!” The Buchanan weasel jabbed a bent finger at Lilia, his delighted cackle raking across her already raw nerves. “Old Borden said MacTavish's witch would come a-lookin' for him. Damned if ye didna do just as he said.”

The man licked his lips and reached down between his legs. With a look that made Lilia want to vomit, he grabbed his limp cock and shook it at her. “I ain't tellin' ye nothin', whore. Not unless ye wish t'barter.”

Colum whipped out his bow and nocked an arrow. “Tell Lady Lilia what she wishes t'know afore I nail yer cods to that tree.”

The squatting man quickly stood, scampering along the limb to a thicker shield of leaves. “I can stay up here as long as it takes.”

“I've had enough of this shit. Kismet—you're on.” Lilia drew closer to the tree and the softly growling black cat gracefully launched herself up into the branches. Lilia returned to her designated position between Colum and Gray.

Colum slowly lowered the arrow and bow, turning to Lilia with a gleam in his eye. “Yer a great deal like yer grandmother, are ye not?”

“I hope so,” Lilia said. “Kismet will get him down without maiming him so badly that he can't give us any information.”

The outer limbs of the tree shook and rattled. Leaves exploded free of branches as Kismet convinced the man it was time to climb down. The Buchanan's shouts and curses played a perfect duet with the feline's yowls and hisses.

“Off me, demon. Leave off, ye bastard!” Limbs cracked and popped. The man bellowed, bouncing down through the branches with Kismet firmly clamped around his face. He hit the ground flat on his back with a hard thud. Wheezing and gasping for air, he flailed both arms, clawing at the cat still attached to his face.

“That's enough, Kismet,” Lilia called. “It's Karma's turn now.”

The black cat immediately disengaged, leapt back to her perch on Lilia's saddle, and started licking her paws, furiously grooming away the filth she'd just encountered.

In one great lunge, Karma straddled the man's body, bringing his snarling muzzle within inches of the man's face.

“Now.” Lilia eased her horse closer. “I'm going to ask you again. Where are the two prisoners? And if you lie to me, I'll make you wish Colum's arrow pinning your nuts to the tree was the only pain you had to worry about.”

The man lay perfectly still, terror reflected in his face as he kept his unblinking gaze locked on Karma's dripping fangs. “Not far. Go north. Keep t'the glens. Ye should meet them well before midday.”

“How many?” Gray asked.

“Four.” The man blinked rapidly as Karma lunged closer, his clicking growl sounding hungrier. “But more come. The Buchanan himself. And his son. Maybe more.”

“When?” Colum asked. “And how many more?”

The man didn't answer, just locked his jaws and flinched his face away from Karma's teeth.

“Why are more coming?” Lilia asked. “Why are more men needed?”

The man remained silent, his mouth clamped shut in a stubborn scowl.

Karma settled his jaws around the man's throat and rumbled a deeper warning growl.

The man's eyes popped open, his expression a strange mix of defiance, rage, and fear. “The Buchanan means t'regain the honor stolen from him. He'll no' stand bein' cuckolded by MacTavish nor made the fool by the MacKenna. He means t'make ye both pay for the way ye've soiled his name. MacTavish will pay with his life. The MacKenna will pay with his clan's land.”

Karma crunched down and twisted with a hard jerk. The man hissed out a gurgling wheeze; his legs jerked and kicked. Then he went still. Karma shook the limp Buchanan clansman one last time then stepped away. The great dog sneezed and raked a paw down his muzzle. With one last glance down at the man, Karma sneezed again, then calmly trotted over to the nearby creek. He splashed in and drank deep, blowing and sloshing water in and out of his mouth as though rinsing out the taste of the filthy Buchanan.

“Well…” Lilia chewed the corner of her bottom lip, then looked over at Gray. “I guess that settles that. Now what do we do with him?” Enemy or not, they couldn't leave the man's body exposed to whatever might wish to pick his bones clean.

“When our business is finished, word will be sent to his clan.” Gray scowled down at the man, obviously pissed at the inconvenience. His cold, matter-of-fact gaze lifted and settled on Lilia. “I'll allow them safe passage to retrieve their kinsman and take him home. Nothing more. We've no time t'tarry.”

Lilia suppressed a shudder. This was the first time in all her visits back to the past that she'd keenly felt the rawness of the era. She forced her gaze away from the dead man and looked to the MacKenna warriors, their mounts fidgeting in place, waiting for orders from their chieftain.