Chapter Twenty-Nine
Joey
Fulvio and his duplicate minions have pulled out their weapons, and it's clear that An Bodach gifted them with one last helpful device---a Tommy gun. I really hate that bastard. Whatever it takes to rid the world of these jerk-offs, I'll do it. They wanted to kill me, after all, so I don't feel too bad about taking them out.
Kieran smiles with smug satisfaction as he winks at me, then hollers to the crowd. "We shall never concede to the enemy! Why? Because 's e Albannaich a th' annainn !"
Rachel presses her lips to my ear. "That means 'we are Scots.' It's a battle rallying cry."
"No shit. I wouldn't have guessed." I know she grasped my sarcasm. Rachel is wicked smart.
The Scots raise their weapons, shouting so loudly that I can't hear my own thoughts. I whip out my dirk, ready to go.
And the battle commences.
Chaos erupts as the Scots charge forward, their battle cries echoing across the glen. I'm swept up in the tide of kilts and claymores, and my dirk feels pathetically small compared to the massive broadswords around me. But hey, size isn't everything, right?
Fulvio's goons open fire with their handguns and a solitary Tommy gun, the rapid staccato of bullets cutting through the air. I duck and weave, thanking my lucky stars for all those hours spent playing Fortnite. Who knew virtual battle royales would prepare me for actual combat?
Rachel's by my side, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and excitement. She mutters something in Gaelic that I'm pretty sure isn't appropriate for polite company, then hurls a fireball at the nearest gunman. The guy goes up like a roman candle, screaming and flailing.
"Nice trick," I shout over the din, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. "Got any more where that came from?"
Rachel grins wickedly, her hair whipping in the wind. "Aye, plenty. Watch and learn, outlander!"
She raises her hands, and suddenly the very earth trembles beneath our feet. The grass ripples like waves on a stormy sea, and several of Fulvio's men lose their footing, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs and curses.
Kieran charges past us, his massive claymore cleaving through the air with deadly precision. He's like a force of nature, all raw power and Highland fury. I watch in awe as he takes on three goons at once, his blade singing a lethal melody.
"Don't just stand there gawking!" Rachel yells, snapping me back to reality. "Use that dirk of yours before someone mistakes you for a statue!"
Right, the dirk. I grip the handle tightly, my palms sweaty against the worn leather. A goon charges at me, his face twisted in a snarl. I dodge his wild swing and, before I can overthink it, plunge my dirk into his side. The blade slides in with sickening ease, and the man crumples to the ground with a gurgled cry.
My stomach lurches but I push through the nausea. Another attacker is already coming at me, this one wielding a wicked-looking knife. We dance around each other, feinting and jabbing. He's good, but I'm faster. I duck under his guard and slam the pommel of my dirk into his solar plexus. As he doubles over, gasping, I bring my knee up to connect with his face.
The goon drops like a sack of haggis, and I can't help but feel a surge of pride. Maybe I don't suck at this medieval combat thing after all.
But my moment of triumph is short-lived. A deafening crack splits the air, and I feel something whiz past my ear. The Tommy gun. I'd almost forgotten about that modern menace amid all this old-school sword swinging.
"Get down!" Rachel screams, tackling me to the ground just as another burst of gunfire tears through the space where I'd been standing. We roll together, like a human sandwich, and wind up with Rachel on top of me. For a split second, I forget we're in the middle of a life-or-death battle, distracted by the feel of her warm, soft body pressed to mine.
Rachel gives me a quick, hard kiss. Then she smirks and springs to her feet, dragging me up with her. "Focus, Joey, would you? The fight isn't over yet."
She's right, of course. The battle rages on around us, a chaotic symphony of clashing steel, gunfire, and magical explosions. I spot Fulvio near the edge of the fray, barking orders to his remaining men. His eyes meet mine, and a cruel smile twists his lips.
"Time to end this," I snarl, gripping my dirk tighter. "The mafia has no place in medieval Scotland."
Rachel nods, her face set with grim determination. "Then we must stop them, aye?"
"Absolutely." I glance around to get a better lay of the land, but the smoke from the guns and the deafening clash of swords make it difficult. "Listen, Rach, you should gather the women from as many clans as possible. Maybe they can help. They might even have some weapons, huh? The ones who don't have magic, that is."
"Oh, aye, Scots women are hardy. That was a brilliant idea, Joey."
While she races off to conscript the Scottish lasses, I charge toward Fulvio, weaving through the melee. The residual magics from Rachel's spells clear a path, sending enemies flying left and right. I deflect a sword strike with my dirk, feeling the shock reverberate up my arm. Damn, that hurt.
Fulvio sees me coming. He raises the Tommy gun, but before he can squeeze the trigger, a blur of tartan and fury barrels into him from the side. Kieran, his face splattered with blood and his eyes wild with battle rage, grapples with Fulvio for control of the weapon.
Is that Fulvio? Or one of his duplicates?
When Kieran thrusts his blade deep into the enforcer's gut, the guy disintegrates into a pile of black sludge. Okay, that must have been a duplicate.
I seize the opportunity, sprinting toward another fake Fulvio. The creep manages to wrench the gun free, but before he can bring it to bear, I'm on him. My dirk flashes in the fading light as I slash at his gun hand. He howls in pain, the Tommy gun clattering to the ground.
Kieran doesn't waste a second. He scoops up the fallen weapon. "I reckon you know what to do with this better than I do."
He tosses the Tommy gun to me, and I spray a volley of bullets at Fulvio's remaining men, knocking them down in quick succession, roaring like a wild man. The tables turned in an instant when the goons found themselves on the receiving end of their own firepower. All the fake mobsters are gone.
But where is the real one?
"Joey, look out!" Rachel's voice cuts through the chaos. I spin just in time to
I spin around just in time to see the real Fulvio lunging at me, a wicked-looking dagger glinting in his hand. Time seems to slow as I raise the Tommy gun, but I know I won't be fast enough.
Suddenly, a blur of tartan and flashing steel intercepts him. Rachel, her expression the picture of defiant determination, parries Fulvio's strike with a sword she must have snatched from a fallen clansman. The clash of metal-on-metal rings out, but the hefty sword makes her stagger backward.
"I thought you were gathering the women, Rachel!"
She gives me a sloppy grin.
Fulvio pulls out his Glock, aiming the gun straight at the woman I love.
"Here, Joey!" Rachel cries out, tossing me her sword.
With a mighty battle cry, I leap in front of Rachel, claymore in my hand. I catch the sword in mid-air, its weight nearly pulling me off balance. But adrenaline surges through me, and I manage to bring the blade up just as Fulvio fires.
The bullet ricochets off the steel with a resounding clang, sparks flying, the impact vibrating through my bones. Fulvio's eyes widen in shock, and I seize opening. With a roar that would make Kieran proud, I charge forward, swinging the claymore in a wild arc.
Fulvio dodges, but he's not quite fast enough. The tip of the blade catches his arm, drawing a line of crimson. He hisses in pain, stumbling back.
"Not so tough without your goons, are you?" I taunt as a rush of confidence hits me. I think I'm getting the hang of this medieval warrior thing after all.
Abruptly, I notice that all the other warriors, and the witches too, are standing in a huge circle encompassing me and Fulvio. That bastard made my life hell, and he would've killed me if I hadn't been thrown back in time. But now he is the only bad guy left. The enforcer is going down. Right now.
Rachel appears at my side, her hands glowing with an eerie blue light. "Together, Joey, we do this together."
"Damn straight."
A sensation of raw power emanates from her, and the blue glow gradually spreads outward to encompass every single Scot, man or woman. We advance on Fulvio, who's now backed against a rocky outcropping, his eyes darting frantically between us and the circle of Scots who have surrounded the clearing.
"It's over, Fulvio," I growl, leveling the claymore at his chest. "You're a long way from Chicago, and your mafia tricks won't save you here."
He sneers, blood dripping from his wounded arm. "You think you've won? You're nothing but a punk kid playing dress-up in a kilt. I've survived worse than this."
Rachel's eyes narrow dangerously. "Aye, but you've never faced a Highland witch before."
She raises her glowing hands.
Fulvio's sneer falters as he glances nervously at the pulsing blue light. "What the hell is that?"
"This," Rachel says, her voice resonating with power, "is justice, Highland style."
The blue glow intensifies, spreading from Rachel to me, then rippling out to encompass the entire circle of Scots. I feel a surge of energy coursing through my body, making my hair stand on end. The claymore in my hands hums with an otherworldly vibration.
Fulvio raises his gun, but his hand is shaking. "Stay back! I'll blow you away, Finnegan, I swear!"
"Go ahead," I taunt, feeling invincible with Rachel's magic coursing through me. "Your bullets can't hurt us now."
Fulvio's eyes dart wildly as he aims the gun at my chest. He pulls the trigger, but the bullet dissolves into blue sparks before it reaches me. He gasps. "Impossible. This can't be real, I'm dreaming or...something."
He fires again and again with the same result.
I advance slowly, the claymore glowing with ethereal light. "This is for everyone you've ever hurt, you bastard."
With a primal yell, I swing the sword in a mighty arc. Fulvio tries to dodge, but he's too slow. The blade slices clean through him, and for a moment, everything goes still.
And Fulvio's body crumbles to ash, scattering on the wind.
The blue glow fades, and I slump to my knees, exhausted.
Rachel kneels beside me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "It's over, mo leannan . You did it, Joey. You saved us all."
I look up at her, my vision blurry with sweat. "We did it. Together. Every single person here today played a role."
"You are too humble, Joey. I still remember your arrogance when we first met, and I love that part of you too."
Rachel raises my hand high above us. "All hail the hero who vanquished Fulvio!"
The circle of Scots erupts in cheers, their voices echoing across the glen. Kieran strides over, his huge body casting a shadow over us. He extends a hand, pulling me to my feet with surprising gentleness.
"Well fought, laddie," Kieran declares, clapping me on the back hard enough to make me stagger. "You've proven yourself to be a true Highland warrior on this day."
Rachel's great-aunts trot over to us, beaming as if they know an amazing secret. Efrica speaks for the trio. "Dinnae ye realize what has transpired? Everyone who participated in this battle has become a part of history. On down the ages, from this moment onward, this day shall be known as the 'Witches' Confrontation' and 'twill be forever remembered."
"Thanks to our MacTaggart witches," Kieran says with a smile. "Rachel, Efrica, Lachina, and Morna. Your names might vanish from remembrance, but your valiant efforts on this day will never be forgotten."
Hamish thrusts his sword above his head. "All hail the valiant witches of Dùndubhan!"
A chorus of voices repeats the statement, expressing their appreciation for these amazing ladies.
Kieran claps a hand on my shoulder. "You are the hero of this day, Joey Finnegan, the man whose mysterious appearance at Dùndubhan heralded a true hero's arrival."
I pull off a weak smile. "Thanks, but I couldn't have done any of this without Rachel's magic. Or your claymore."
Big Daddy squeezes my shoulder. " Macan , I think it's time we forged a claymore specially for you."
I grin.