The Legend Mackinnon (38 page)

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Authors: Donna Kauffman

BOOK: The Legend Mackinnon
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“How are you here, Alexander MacKinnon?”

Her sudden question caught him off guard. “You would know better than anyone. Edwyna sent me through the portal of time. She claimed to love me, wished to save me from death on the battlefield.” He would have to be careful with this sprite. They were a tricky lot who craved war and enjoyed all its strategies. “Now it is time for my return. We are to wed.”

“Oh, I don’t think there will be a wedding.”

His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?” Could Edwyna know of his plan? Had she a way of spying on him from her place in the past? Had she sent faeries here before to spy on his actions and intents? He did not think so. Balgaire had a nose for intruders, no matter their origin or species.

“I can’t send you back to your own time. I’m afraid you’re stuck here.”

“That cannot be,” he demanded.

She shrugged. “Well, I can’t say there isn’t another way, but it’s not with me. The only portal I came through was that tunnel up there.”

He did not have to look away to see the passage she spoke of. “Impossible.”

“If you travel back down the tunnel, you’ll come to a set of very steep, wide stairs. Sound familiar?”

She had been in the tunnel. But he hadn’t opened that door in five years. Calum had entrusted the knowledge of the secret cavern and its passage to the sea to his eldest son only after his betrothal to Edwyna. There was one lever in Calum’s private council room, which was situated directly above the tunnel door, and another in the cavern itself, in one of the many catacombs. It was in those catacombs he’d hidden all but the most recent cache of armaments, sealing
each one shut from the water that filled the cavern when he was gone. And Calum’s council room was in a section of the castle that was now inaccessible due to rock fall. Unless someone had cleared it in the last five years. He hadn’t been in the castle in that time.

Stonelachen had kept her secrets well these past three hundred years. Waiting, waiting for him to find his way back and change the bloody treachery she did not deserve. But it was clear now that someone had indeed discovered at least some of her secrets. “If you’re not sent from the underworld by Edwyna, then how did you discover Stonelachen and the passageway to the cavern?”

“I told you, I inherited it.”

“This land has been the legal property of many, but not one has discovered her.”

“I had help.”

Just then the bristly tan hairs on Balgaire’s massive back lifted, a low growl rumbled from his throat. “What is it, lad?” The dog maintained his stance; his gaze intent on the upper tunnel. He was a massive shaggy beast, a deerhound whose origins Alexander knew not. He’d been but a pup when he’d made the leap through time along with his master. Alexander had come to be grateful for the animal’s companionship and his innate ability to serve and protect.

If Balgaire sensed something was wrong, it usually was. Alexander didn’t waste time. He hauled Delaney to her feet by her elbow and pulled her along. “This way. Come.”

“Like I have a choice?” After stumbling once, she kept up with him as he moved swiftly around the boulders and into a catacomb.

“I never even saw this last night.”

“They’re not designed for easy detection.”

Balgaire loped in behind them.

“Guard,” Alexander commanded. The dog dutifully sat at the entrance, nose to the air, gaze searching the area.

“Spooky beast,” she said as he pulled her deeper in.

“He is rewarded well for his service. In many ways, dogs make better compatriots than men.”

“That’s a cynical view. Especially for a Scot, and a clan chief at that.”

He stopped short and pushed her up against the wall, his face inches from hers. “What do you know of my past?”

“I know that if you treat your compatriots as well as you treat your dog, you will earn their loyalty and respect. A loyal man will lay his life down for you.”

“And what do you know of loyalty, little warrior? Have you tricked men into declaring fealty to you? Have you coerced them into giving their lives so you may go on to lure others with those fey eyes of yours?”

“I said nothing of trickery. I spoke of respect.” She didn’t struggle under his grasp, nor did she seem to have any trouble holding his gaze. “Perhaps that is why you must rely on a dog for a companion.”

“I don’t see anyone flanking your side.”

She had no answer to that. Instead of enjoying the taste of victory, he found himself wondering about the taste of her mouth. He yanked away from her and shoved her in front of him. Trickery.

“Where are we going? What are you afraid of?”

“We are going where I can keep a better eye on you. And I am afraid of nothing.” Alexander had been stunned to find anyone in his cavern, but Balgaire had known immediately after he’d returned from securing his boat that someone had invaded his sanctuary.

As shocking as the discovery had been, he didn’t think anyone else had breached the lower sanctum. Until, perhaps now. He hadn’t forgotten her words just before the dog’s warning growl. She’d had help finding this place.

He kept them moving around another tight bend, then another, then pushed her into a small alcove. “Sit.” He pushed as he commanded and she complied with no resistance. Wise, that one. She knew when to fight and had the
patience to wait for her moment. His throbbing shoulder and wrist were constant reminders of her agility.

He lit a small kerosene lantern and sat on an empty wooden crate. The room was small, with a narrow rug, a crudely built table and the crate he sat on. There was another room behind this one with a narrow connecting passage that he slept in when he was here, which was only very briefly between voyages.

He laid his gun on the table and faced her. She sat against the wall, several yards from his feet. If her arms or hands hurt from being bound behind her back, she didn’t show it in any way. Her cheek was raw, but there was no blood. She had borne his brutish behavior without a cry or a tear. She held his gaze easily, as if she were his equal, not his captive.

She was an underworld warrior for certain. No one else could have found Stonelachen, much less the cavern. Was he to be invaded with bluidy
sithiche
? “Who helped you?”

“My cousins,” she responded.

Faery kin kept close ranks. “They know where you are?”

“What are you planning to do with the guns?”

Her question surprised him, but he managed to keep his expression even. “What guns?”

She nodded to the empty crate he sat on. “The ones that were inside that crate. The ones you have stashed amongst these little rooms. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, you know, buying from the right and from the left. But then, you didn’t plan on being here long enough to get caught in the middle did you? What is your plan, Alexander? To go back to your time and wage war with twentieth century weapons?”

He stood, shoving the crate back. “You say you are not faery, but you have the knowledge of a
sithiche.

“No, I have the knowledge of terrorists. And that is what you will be if you do this.”

“I come from a time of warriors, and a warrior uses
whatever tools he can find to defeat his foes. The battle goes to the most cunning. Edwyna made a tactical error and she and her clan will pay the consequences.”

“You seem to have forgotten one small detail,” she said. “How are you going to return? And how will you bring your pile of guns with you?”

He towered over her. “You will show me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I am a twentieth century woman whose great uncle left her a pile of rocks in Scotland. In those rocks I found Stonelachen.”

“With your cousins,” he said skeptically. “You of the amethyst eyes are no more mortal than Edwyna. I will not be tricked again.”

Delaney eyed Alexander. At any other time in her life, she would have been convinced she was dealing with a delusional psychopath. It said much for the experiences of the past few days that she knew him to be anything but. She was still stunned by the reality of his presence, but after reading the journals, she had no doubt he was Alexander MacKinnon. Born in sixteen-something. She stifled a shiver.

Her gut told her to convince him of who she really was and take him to his brothers. But she wasn’t an idiot. She had to look at the big picture. He had every intention of going back and kicking Claren butt. And he might well decide to begin with hers. What if the key her cousins and his brothers were presently looking for ended up unlocking this portal he spoke of? What if he talked Duncan and Rory into going back with him? And what of Maggie and Cailean then? For that matter, if the MacKinnon brothers went back and changed history, would she and her cousins even exist?

She had no idea what rules of nature he was playing with or what was best. Should she allow him to believe she was indeed a faery and lead him on a wild goose chase to buy
time? Or did she reunite him with his brothers and pray the portal never opened again?

She was saved making an immediate decision when Balgaire’s ringing bark echoed down the passageway.

“Stay put.” He grabbed his gun and left the room.

Delaney immediately rolled to her knees and stood up. If she could find a weapon, she might at least buy some time to think through a rational plan. First she needed to get this damn belt off her wrists. She moved quickly around the room, looking for his food stash.

“Aha,” she breathed quietly, as she spied the two crates in the corner. She could hardly see the contents since the corner was deep in the shadows, but she spied the bottle of oil easily. She cast a quick look at the doorway. Alexander could return any moment. She turned and knelt with her back to the box and leaned back until her fingers grasped the long neck of the bottle. She moved to the table, then laid the bottle down with the cap hanging over the edge, keeping her eyes trained on the door as she unscrewed the lid. The oil would ruin her clothes, but it was a small price to pay for freedom.

The oil ran over her wrists and the leather, which she began working immediately. Her wrists were already chafed but she worked at the bindings heedless of the scrapes and the mess she was making. “Bingo.” One wrist slid free and the belt fell to the floor. She immediately ran for the passage, but saw Alexander’s looming shadow indicating his return.

“Damn.” She spun around and spied the small door at the back of the chamber. She darted around the table and the oil slick on the floor and dashed into the dark passageway beyond just as Alexander strode in.

His roar filled the small room and filled her with no small amount of trepidation. She ducked around the narrow bend as she heard him pounding down behind her.

The passage ended around the next corner. There was a
room on either side. She dove left, hoping for another way out, but it was pitch black and she struck her shin on something big and hard. She swallowed the curse and ran her still slick hands over the object, hoping against hope it was a crate filled with guns.

“Delaney! You will not escape me!”

She started at the nearness of his voice, but stayed on task. The object was a table, or felt like one. Nothing was on the surface. She limped forward, hands out to protect herself in the total darkness and ventured deeper into the room, hoping he searched the other room first.

Her hands met air, but her shins met metal. She pitched forward before she could catch herself and landed with a thud on what felt like a padded slab of stone.

Alexander, who obviously knew the maze of rooms far better than she did, entered the room right after her. He had grabbed the kerosene lantern, which he hung on a peg by the door. A doorway he more than filled.

Delaney darted a look around the room but quickly saw there was no way out but the one presently blocked with about two hundred pounds of very angry male.

She looked down and found she was indeed sitting on a padded slab of stone. His bed? She looked back at him and tried to will her heart to slow down and get out of her throat. “Not exactly a Posturepedic. This can’t be good for your back.”

“ ’Tis no’ my bed, but Balgaire’s.”

His pronounced accent was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. The glint in his eyes as he closed the distance between them was not.

“Well, since I’m in the doghouse, this seems apropos, don’t you think?” She tried a smile.

He said nothing, just continued coming toward her.

She resisted the urge to crawl backward and plaster herself against the wall. “Speaking of the dog, what was the ruckus about?”

“He is barking up at the tunnel.”

She worked to contain her elation. Duncan and Rory must have opened the door and found her note! “Shouldn’t you be checking that out?”

“I will know who enters here soon enough, but I knew better than to trust you to do as I asked.”

“Commanded,” she corrected.

He stopped a foot away and lifted one brow. He’d pulled his hair back into the tight ponytail again, giving her a chance to really see him. He wasn’t gorgeous, but he had that same striking intensity as his brothers. Brothers he would be meeting shortly.

“You must listen to me.”

“I will do as I please, not as you direct. Stand.”

“I have to explain things before they get here.”

“Stand!”

She sighed in frustration and slid off the stone bed, stepping over the gunstocks she now saw piled on the floor, the same ones she’d struck her shin on. “Figures,” she muttered. Uzis, she noted. MP-5s. And other assault weapons that had recently been introduced on the growing international arms black market. This guy meant business.

“You will show me this portal before your cousins arrive.” He moved closer and took hold of her arm. “I will tolerate no more games.”

She looked at his grip on her arm, then back up at him. “You know, it’s a good thing I’m not a faery, because I could really get into turning you into a toad right about now. Or maybe a pig.”

His eyes widened for a split second and his grip loosened a fraction. The laugh burst out of her before she could stop it.

“You almost bought that, didn’t you? Damn, I should have just gone for it.” He opened his mouth to argue and she impulsively reached up and covered his mouth with her hand. “Listen to me,” she said, but faltered to a stop when
his eyes flared again. There was no fear of faery magic in them this time. This look was purely mortal male reacting to mortal female.

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