CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #4
Sam had also liked Claire on sight. The woman was tall, buff, fairly serious and deadly earnest. It was the determination she probably felt instantly and liked the most. There was no question that Claire could fight: she was well armed and she carried herself the way a warrior would.
She also wore jeans beneath her long linen gown, which amused Sam.
And she had a ton of her own white power. It almost felt like a Master’s, but feminized.
She’d also had the briefest chance to meet Malcolm and Royce, two of the sexiest, most mouthwatering men she’d ever come across. She might have fallen for Ian but she wasn’t blind, and she’d been unable to resist taking a few prolonged looks at both men, especially because they were bare legged.
Now, everyone was focused entirely on the page of illusion and the old gods.
Tabby apparently expected some help from them.
But Sam could not concentrate. She kept seeing Ian, drugged and in pain on the concrete floor of that warehouse, or as he’d been just before their capture, impaled on the ramparts.
Then she’d think about the damned sex tape, which was in his possession. There was no end to her dismay.
She wanted there to be a reasonable explanation, one that she could accept—one that wouldn’t make her walk away from their beginning.
Except, she was probably a fool to think that anything was beginning for them! And if she didn’t focus on the page and finding it, or at least feeling its power, there wouldn’t be a beginning, just a terrible ending.
Sam realized that Tabby had fallen silent. She opened her eyes and saw her sister staring grimly at her. Sam flushed.
“I could barely focus, with your thoughts raging as they were!” Tabby released Claire’s and Allie’s hands and stood.
Sam got up, as did Brie. “I’m sorry.”
Tabby sighed as someone hit the lights. “We’ll never locate it this way. You have to stay focused, Sam.”
She was right. But even as Allie reached for the door, it burst open and Gerard stood there, holding a yellowing parchment page in his hand.
Its power trickled into the room.
“I was going downstairs when this came up the stairs,” he exclaimed. “It was floating.”
Tabby’s spell had worked, Sam thought, amazed, as her sister took the page carefully from Gerard. “There’s so much power here,” Tabby said softly. Then she turned to Sam. “If the monk can unleash the power, it won’t be good.”
Sam stared at her. “I don’t have a choice.”
Tabby glanced at the other women. Allie said, “Do it, Sam. I’d do it for Royce. We’d all do it for our men.”
Sam reached for the page when something crashed downstairs.
It almost sounded as if the door had been broken down.
A second crash followed which sounded like a man being hurled at the wall.
She didn’t feel evil—to the contrary. Ian’s Loch Awe home had been filled with white power ever since the women had arrived with their husbands.
Malcolm and Royce had gone to Brooklyn with Aidan to help him look for Ian, but Macleod remained downstairs, just in case someone nasty decided to pay the women a visit.
Sam had a sudden inkling. She took the page from her sister and said, “Get Macleod, Tabby, please, and have him take me to Maclean’s Park Avenue house.” Carlisle had said he’d reach her there when she had the page.
Tabby hurried for the door. But as she did, Sam looked past her and saw Macleod coming up the stairs. Nick was on his heels.
She cursed.
“Yer sister’s friend barged in,” Macleod said, clearly annoyed. “He is lookin’ fer Sam. I decided not to take his head, but tell me otherwise an’ I’ll change my mind—gladly.” His smile was cold.
Nick stepped past Macleod. “Hello, Sammie. I was really glad to see you when you showed up at Maclean’s fancy town house in one piece, but you’ve gone renegade on me, haven’t you?”
Nick had Ian’s house on tape and she and Gerard had obviously been recorded. “No. No way. I know what you want and the answer is no! The monk has Ian, Nick. He’s hurt. Badly. I’m making a trade.”
Nick seemed resigned. “I can’t let you do that. The greater good and all. I am sorry, Sam.” He winced as his power sizzled toward her.
Sam cried out, struck hard enough that she fell to her knees. Nick had actually hit her. As she looked up, she saw him standing over her, holding the page, his face grim. “Nick!” she screamed furiously.
He vanished.
“I’ll get him,” Macleod shouted, vanishing, as well.
“Guy,” Tabby protested, but it was too late. Both men were gone.
Sam tried to get up. Claire and Allie rushed to her, but she pushed them away. She was beyond fury now.
Ian was in the hands of that monster and Nick had the page.
She had nothing to trade with.
Allie put her hands on her, sending an instant healing power into her. “All better?” she asked, but her smile contradicted the concern in her eyes.
“No,” Sam said, standing. “I am not better. Someone get me to HCU!” That was when she saw Brie.
Her eyes were wide but sightless. She was holding on to a chair for support. In that instant, Sam knew she was having a vision.
No one moved. They watched as Brie blinked, the color starting to return to her face. Her eyes finally opened. And then she looked at everyone with growing horror.
“He’s back,” she said.