CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Nick asked. He did not bother to lower his voice, as they were in the midst of a thick forest and entirely alone.
He glanced upward to locate the sun. Although he saw slivers of blue sky, he gave it up and reached into his pack for his GLD, a palm-size device that would instantly tell him where they were—but not if he’d made it to the right time.
Jan was also clad in camouflage, carrying a small pack with her gear, and she stood, brushing dirt and pine needles from her thighs and seat.
She had resisted going back until liftoff, arguing that she was needed at HCU to hold down the fort.
But, never one to hold a grudge, she said, “I’m fine. Where are we?”
He smiled. The best thing about Jan, other than the fact that he considered her family, was that she was all business when it counted. He glanced at the LED screen. His smile vanished. “Motherfucker. We’re just north of Loch Gairloch.”
Jan didn’t bat an eye. “You know how hard it is to pinpoint a landing. How far are we from Blayde?”
He tapped the screen and a moment later, an estimate had come up. “About twenty miles. And there’s a few big puddles between us and them. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have an inflatable raft in my pack.”
Jan folded her arms, appearing cross. “Come to think of it, considering the high percentage of water in the Highlands, why didn’t we pack one?”
“Last time I flew by Scottish Air, I landed right on target.” He tapped the screen. “We’re really close to Melvaig.”
“Tabby’s at Blayde. Or that is the most likely scenario. My money says Kristin’s wherever Tabby Rose is.”
“What would I do without you?” He grinned.
He liked going back in time, especially to medieval Scotland, even if this was only his third trip back.
The air was so damned invigorating. And he loved the fact that he couldn’t predict what the hell they would encounter.
Now they’d have to borrow a vessel from Melvaig.
Jan said, “You should have told me about the flashbacks.”
He shrugged as if he didn’t give a damn, even though his gut clenched. There’d been four—when he’d hoped that first one would be the last one. They were getting more intense and closer together.
“You need a psych evaluation. You should not be here, now, damn it,” Jan said, her beautiful green eyes flashing.
She’d been arguing about the mission when he let the information slip.
She kept telling him to take Sam or MacGregor or the new Russian guy.
She’d had that steely look in her eyes that meant she was never going back in time again, not for anyone, not even for him.
And that was when he’d told her he was having flashbacks.
They’d almost killed him once.
They’d killed an agent instead.
He couldn’t do this alone and he couldn’t tell anyone. They’d put him back in psych. And he had HCU to run.
“No one has ever been able to determine how long a leap takes. For all we know, it takes years.”
“You should not be in the field! You cannot afford to have a flashback in the middle of hand-to-hand combat with some six-foot medieval demon. We both know you are incapacitated during a flashback.”
“That’s why you’re here, sweetheart.” He glanced at his GLD again. “I know you’ll take care of your old boss.”
“Don’t you dare sweetheart me. I can’t stand this.”
He became concerned. What looked like static covered the screen. What the hell? He looked up. “You went through hell, Jan, but you made it, and that last trip was a long, long time ago. Time to move on.” He glanced at the screen. “Shit. Look at this.”
Jan came to stand beside him and her eyes widened. “I’d say an energy source is nearby.”
He slid the useless GLD into his vest pocket.
“Yeah, but is it friend or foe?” He looked upward.
There was no way to discern where the sun was.
He knew they should head down the forested ridge toward Melvaig and Blayde, which lay to the north, but without guidance from either nature or the GLD, they would probably lose their way.
Jan pointed at the towering pine behind him. He got it. They decided on a patch of black far below, and started in silence down the ridge, using both markers to keep going in a straight line. Suddenly shadows consumed the forest. Clouds had blown in, and their black object was gone.
He tried the GLD again. Nothing.
“We’re going to get lost,” Jan said, stating the obvious.
“Not if I can help it.” Nick was determined. He was going to nail Kristin, no matter what it took, and make her talk about her unholy connections.
They started in silence down the ridge, brushing branches out of their way.
Above them a deep-throated owl hooted. Birds sang.
It was actually a helluva pleasant day, except for the fact that they were not alone.
Nick kept checking his GLD every few minutes, but the static remained.
A source of energy was nearby—and it had lots of power.
But Nick didn’t sense evil. Neither did Jan; she’d say so otherwise.
When he looked at the screen again, it was a frenzy of static activity. “We have company,” he began, when thunder boomed. Not from overhead, but from up the ridge, behind them. The earth moved beneath their feet.
There was power, lots of it, but it was the good kind.
Her eyes sharp with interest—Jan was rarely afraid—she touched his arm as they turned to face the slope above them. He was damned curious, too. The forest was dark now, silent, unmoving. The snow on the GLD screen continued to dance like crazy.
The trees shifted and branches parted. Nick watched a rider on a horse emerge from the shadows and his eyes widened.
A woman sat a white stallion, her reddish-gold hair falling down her back, a huge sword in one hand, her muscular arms ripped.
He took one fast look at her face and his heart lurched hard.
She was shockingly beautiful. He quickly looked at her bare muscular thighs, wrapped around that horse—he couldn’t help himself.
She was dressed the way the Highland men dressed, which meant she was showing a helluva lot of leg, and she had frigging great legs.
Jan breathed, “Chill.”
He caught himself. The woman was a warrior and she had power—lots of it. She halted the horse a dozen feet from them, unsmiling. Her eyes were green, he realized, and un-blinking. Her demeanor could not be called friendly. In fact, it was cool and wary.
He smiled to disarm her and said in Gaelic, “We’re lost. Can you help us?” She’d know that they had power, too, so there was no point in stating the obvious, that they were all on the same side.
She did not return his smile. “Aye. Ye wish to go to Blayde,” she said flatly, in Gaelic. Her horse moved restlessly but she did not seem to care.
“Yes, we do.” Now he became a bit perturbed. He was acutely aware of her but she was as cold as ice. Not that it mattered, except that he was used to stopping women in their tracks. He lurked and was shocked when he couldn’t get into her thoughts. His gaze returned to her.
She stared, and he thought the corners of her mouth had lifted ever so slightly in triumph.
So she meant to keep him out of her mind. Two could play that game. He envisioned her stark-naked on that stallion, really liking the mental image, and then blocked his thoughts from her.
He could have sworn that a hint of a flush came to her face, but it was hard to tell, because her eyes turned to ice. “Ye’re goin’ east, Outsider. Ye need go north. There’s a trail that will take ye toward Melvaig and on to Blayde.” Her power seemed to seethe. “The witch is at Melvaig,” she added.
A new excitement began. “The witch from my time—Kristin Lafarge?”
She gave him a look of pure disdain. “I dinna ken her name. I dinna care fer yer future time. She’s evil—an’ great evil is with her.”
“I need a guide. I’m sure there’s something I can offer you in return.” He did not want his thoughts to zip into the bedroom, but they did.
Jan jabbed her elbow into his ribs. “Cut it out,” she said.
“You have nothing to offer, Outsider.” She tightened her reins, flushing. “Domnhal!”
A huge, dangerous-looking, very human Highlander rode out of the woods.
She finally smiled at him, coldly. “Domnhal will show ye to Melvaig so ye can vanquish the witch an’ go back to yer time. Outsiders are nay welcome here.”
Their gazes finally held. Nick smiled slowly at her; she did not smile back. He reminded himself not to alienate her. “I appreciate it,” he finally said softly. “But you should know that you are welcome in my time.”
Although her eyes were ice, her color seemed to deepen.
But he wasn’t having entirely dirty thoughts.
He wanted to know who she was and what she was capable of and her part in the war—and if she was somehow associated with the Masters.
But she whirled the horse, galloping into the forest, before he could try to entice her into a dialogue. It thundered as her army joined her.
He became thoughtful. That woman was a warrior and she seemed fearless, but he’d had the odd notion that she just might be afraid of him.
“What is wrong with you?” Jan cried. “Do you have to come onto everything in skirts?”
“That wasn’t in a skirt,” he said thoughtfully. His blood continued to pound. She was hot. “She has a lot of power. I wonder what, exactly, she can do. She is one of us. She needs to lighten up, though.” His mind couldn’t help moving back to the medieval bedroom.
“Oh, and a few hours in your bed will do the trick?”
He had to smile. “Probably.” In fact, he had no doubt he could ease her mind, among other things. He looked at Domnhal. “Who was that?”
“The Lady of An Roinn-Mor…a daughter of the gods.”
MACLEOD REACHED the chamber’s threshold. In horror, he saw Tabitha pinned to the wall.