Chapter Twenty-Two
Evie led the way out of the tapestry room, Chloe on her heels and Brianna bringing up the rear.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Jamie and what the potential outcome of the siege would be if they didn’t mend the stone.
The thought of him dying at the hands of their enemy—albeit an enemy she had never laid eyes on—made her sick to her stomach.
As they entered the great hall, the sound of the battering ram bashing against the wood gate echoed through the keep.
The sound was followed by the shouts of men and agonizing cries of pain.
It was so close. Too close for her liking.
She halted a moment, peering at the door, with her heart in her throat.
It sounded as though any moment the oak door would crack and splinter and then they would be upon them.
Jamie.
What of Jamie? She tried to imagine him fighting, holding his own as he brandished his claymore and tried to keep his balance on the leg that pained him.
“Bri, come on!” Evie was at the foot of the stairs, ready to dash up them.
She glanced down at the piece of stone in her hand. The lines were glowing and it was faintly humming. The thrumming sound pulsed through her, vibrating through her hand and up her arm.
“My stone is humming.”
“Mine, too,” Evie said. “We need that knife.” She turned, ready to dash up the stairs, but something stopped her. She winced, pitched forward with her hand on her belly.
“I’ll get it. You stay.” Without waiting for her reply, Chloe dashed up the stairs.
Brianna moved to her sister, taking her by the arm and leading her to the nearest chair at the great hall table. Reluctantly, Evie lowered herself down.
“Are you all right? Is it the baby?”
“I felt a … twinge,” she said, her voice hitching.
“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. Maybe this blood magic thing isn’t a good idea.” Brianna’s voice trembled, giving her second thoughts. Worry punched through her as she placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “It will weaken you.”
“We have to do it.” Her dark brown eyes lifted to meet hers. “You said it yourself. We have to mend the stone.”
“But at what cost?”
Chloe returned at that moment, panting, her face pink from exertion. Sweat dotted her forehead. She thrust the knife into Evie’s hands.
“Here, Eve. It’s the only one I could find.”
“It will do.”
“I don’t know about this,” Brianna said, suddenly getting cold feet. “What if this is a mistake?”
With an intensity that made her heart pound, the twins’ gazes lifted to hers, their eyes blazing with a fierce and unwavering determination.
Chloe held up her stone, the hum thrumming through the air, the lines pulsing and glowing.
The bandage was already gone from her other hand, likely discarded while she retrieved the knife in preparation for what was to come.
A faint pinkish line cut across the middle of her palm, bisecting the brand of the stone.
“We don’t have a choice,” she said.
“We don’t,” her sister agreed. She placed her piece of the stone on the table along with the dagger. Then she removed the bandage from her hand. She had the same pink scar across her branded palm.
Brianna knew without looking that hers would be the same. She pocketed her piece of the stone and then unwound the bandage Jamie had wrapped around her hand. The pale scar was there, just as she knew it would be.
“If you’re sure,” Brianna said, breathing the words.
But she was unsure even as Evie reached for the dagger and slashed her hand open. Chloe took the blade and did the same, then handed it to her. Brianna, taking a deep breath, cut her hand and watched the swell of blood in her palm.
Evie got to her feet, holding out her piece of the stone. Chloe pressed her piece to hers. Brianna slipped her third piece into place. That click sounded. The fully formed lines glowed and the humming increased.
At the great hall door, there was a bang.
“They’re here,” Chloe whispered, her emerald eyes wide with fear.
“What do we do?” Brianna asked. “This didn’t work the last time.”
“You said mend the stone,” Evie replied. “How do we do that?”
Another bang on the great hall door. The wood cracked. Nothing happened other than the faint click of the stone. The lines continued to glow. The stone continued to hum.
“Blood magic,” Evie whispered. “We need blood on the stone.”
She squeezed her cut hand into a fist, then held it over the keystone. One drop of blood eked out and dripped onto it. Chloe did the same. It was up to Brianna then. She squeezed her hand into a fist, held it over the stone and watched as the slow trickle of blood dripped onto the stone.
When the last drop of blood landed, the stone hissed. The jagged lines of the stone emitted a bright yellow light. A strange sensation came over her as she peered at the glowing lines of the stone.
Suddenly, the words bubbled up and out of her.
“By our blood, mend this stone. What once was broken is now our own. Bound by magic, sealed in bone. Our destiny written, our power shown.”
As she said the last words, the stone exploded in a blinding light. Evie and Chloe both cried out in pain and released it, stumbling back a step. She clutched the now-whole keystone in her fist. As she did, the great hall door cracked again and splintered.
A man barreled through, holding a glowing great axe in one hand. His face was a menacing mask as his terrible sharp-eyed gaze landed on Brianna. He was a large brute of a man with broad shoulders and a face that was nothing more than a map of wrinkles.
“Seize the lass,” he ordered.
Two men shoved past the leader and grabbed her by her upper arms. She realized, too late, what was happening.
Two more men entered the great hall. One with sharp, dreadful blue eyes who immediately pinned Chloe with his nasty gaze.
She sucked in a breath when she saw him.
The man following him looked familiar. Brianna, clutching the stone in her hand, recognized him as soon as he stepped over the threshold.
He was the same man who had chased her across the museum terrace.
The same man who tried to steal her piece of the keystone.
This man was John MacDonald from her future.
Her first thought when she saw him was how? How had he managed to come back in time when she was certain she’d left him standing on the terrace.
The second thought was panic skipping through her at the thought they had somehow got past Jamie, Malcolm, and Callum.
Where were they? Had they been captured?
Or—worse—dead? She didn’t want to even consider they might be dead because that meant all of this was for nothing.
Holding the newly mended stone in her hand hadn’t done a damn thing to shift the timeline.
She cast a quick glance to her sisters. They huddled together, the same look of worry creasing their faces.
John MacDonald walked right up to her, halting in front of her to give her a good once-over. His gaze drifted over her face and down her body in a way that made her want to cover herself. The vibes coming off him told her he was bad news.
“We meet again, lass.” His face split into a smile she didn’t like.
She said nothing, merely gripped the stone in her blood-and-sweat-dampened fist.
“I’m sure ye’re wondering how I got here.” He said it as though it was a pressing topic. As though it was top of mind.
She wasn’t interested. All she was interested in was finding out where Jamie was. Her gaze flickered to the men behind him at the splintered door, but she saw no sign of him.
“Och, he’s alive. Dinnae worry,” he said, watching her intently. He knew she was looking for him.
“Where is he?” she asked, her voice strong and sure. She was proud of herself for that.
Movement caught her attention as the other man approached Chloe. She lifted her chin in defiance as he halted in front of her.
“I told ye I’d see ye again.”
Her sister glared daggers and then spat at him. Her spittle landed on his cheek. Anger flared bright in his face as his fist clenched. He drew back his arm, but John stopped him.
“Leave her, Bruce,” he snapped.
Ah, so this was Bruce MacDonald. The one who had followed Chloe through time.
John turned his attention back to Brianna. “Hand over the stone, lass. I ken ye have it. It calls to us.”
As if in response, the stone buzzed against her palm. Like a warning. She clenched her fist tighter.
“Give it to me and I willna hurt anyone else.” He held out his hand.
“No,” she said. The stone buzzed again against her hand. “I know why it calls to you.”
He said nothing as he continued to glare at her, then turned to one of his men. “Bring the lad.”
Her heart thumped hard against her chest as she held her breath, waiting to see which of the MacLeod brothers they’d bring. Moments later, two of the men dragged Jamie in through the destroyed door. His defiant gaze met hers.
His face was dirty and sweaty. His clothes were splattered with blood. His hands were tied in front of him as he limped into the great hall.
Behind him, Callum and Malcolm followed in the same state. Chloe reached for Evie, grasping her by the hand as they huddled together when they saw their husbands were also captured. Evie whimpered.
John waved the two men holding Jamie forward.
They stopped within an arm’s length of her.
Jamie was close. So close she smelled the musk and leather scent clinging to his skin.
She kept her face impassive, pretending he meant nothing to her.
It was that moment, though, she understood how much he really did mean to her. She hated seeing him as their prisoner.
“Hand over the stone, lass.” There was a warning in his voice.
Brianna kept her eyes trained on Jamie. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“It calls to you because you’re cursed,” she said. “Because your ancestor tried to steal it from the Triple Goddess. They cursed him and his descendants for all Time.”
A feral smile crossed Rory MacDonald’s face as he stepped toward her. “Ye ken yer history, lass. Ye also ken the prophecy, I’d wager. But what ye dinnae ken is how to break our curse.”
Her defiant gaze flickered to him. “You think opening the Realm of Chaos with your fancy great axe will allow you to get what you want. You think controlling all of Time will give you peace. But the truth is…” She paused, taking a deep breath.
“The truth is possessing the keystone will not break your curse.”
It was a gamble. Honestly, she didn’t know what would break the curse, but she wanted to seem as though she had more information than he did.
In her hand, the stone hummed and buzzed, as if urging her to take action. She cut a glance to her sisters hoping they would give her some sort of sign. It was clear neither of them knew what to do either.
It was all up to her now. She was alone in this. Or was she?
You have the power within you.
Blood warms to blood. Ye have my brothers and me.
Two bloodlines. One destiny.
The words echoed through her mind. Her gaze flickered from the MacLeod brothers to her sisters down to her enclosed fist where the stone continued to hum.
“Give me the stone!” John demanded.
“Dinnae do it, lass,” Jamie said.
That awarded him a smack in the side of the head with the hilt of a sword. He winced. Blood trickled down the side of his face. Her fingers opened a bit to reveal the keystone resting against her bloody palm. The lines were pulsing and glowing in concert with the humming and buzzing.
“Blood warms to blood,” she whispered.
There was a flash of bright light, blinding all who stood in the great hall.
She looked at Jamie as he shielded his eyes against the light.
The stone in her hand burned against her palm.
A silent communication flickered between the two of them as she sent up a silent prayer for the safety of the keystone. It could not fall into MacDonald hands.
She lurched forward, stumbling on her own feet, causing her to fall into Jamie. She pressed her hand against his as their gazes collided. Question flickered through his, then understanding.
The power surging through her was more than she could bear. The moment their hands touched, the light exploded between them. She swayed backward, the light pulsing around all of them, followed by a loud boom. The last thing she recalled before she passed out was Jamie’s face etched in concern.