CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #4
Macleod reached down and lifted him to his feet. “Bring yer witch mother to me.”
Coinneach snarled, “I dinna think to obey ye, Macleod. An’ if ye think I’ll show ye mercy, think again. Ye’ll die here, today, by my blade, at my hand!”
Macleod stared at Coinneach. Suddenly he pitied him. His life would be one of bloody revenge and it would never change—unless he found a great lady like Tabitha.
Let me help you.
He flinched. Now he understood what she had been trying to do for the past century.
And Coinneach jerked, as if he sensed a change in Macleod.
He tightened his grasp on him anyway, as dozens of soldiers began rushing toward them from the ramparts and the hall.
He would use Coinneach against the witch if he could.
There was no other choice, even if Coinneach was an Innocent. He felt her evil approach.
He tensed. Thunder rumbled—but it wasn’t Criosaidh, it was the gods. Surely they were not displeased now?
And as the evil intensified, as the hatred welled, as the fury rushed toward him, he slowly looked up.
Criosaidh stood in a tower embrasure, staring down at him and her son. Even from this distance, her black eyes blazed.
Then he felt a frisson of surprise trickle through him. Sensing an unfamiliar white power, he glanced at the soldiers surrounding them. Either a Master was present or someone very close to the gods. Whoever it was, he did not know him.
Behind several soldiers he saw a tall, dark-haired man, whom he instantly recognized.
They had never been introduced, but he had observed Nick from his hiding place outside the school after the hostage crisis, during the hours Tabitha had been forced to remain there, answering his questions.
He had learned his name and determined that he toiled to fight evil.
He was clad as a Highlander, as was the beautiful blond woman with him. His ambition seethed.
Their gazes locked.
Nick sent him his thoughts. I am hunting Kristin.
Mayhap I will leave her fer ye.
I want her alive!
Macleod didn’t care what Nick wanted. A big MacDougall man stepped forward. “Coinneach, are ye all right?”
Coinneach smiled coldly. “I’ve been starved an’ beaten like a dog, but Macleod willna live to see the night fall. We’ll have our revenge, Douglas.”
Douglas’s eyes hardened. “Ye’re a fool, Macleod. Ye come alone? Ye think we will accept Coinneach’s return an’ feast with ye? Thank ye? Release him now. Ye’re outnumbered here. Yer day is done.”
“Bring me Criosaidh,” Macleod said.
And suddenly the wind blasted through the courtyard, stirring up leaves and dirt, tunics and skirts lifting. “Release my son.”
Macleod looked up at the tower window where Criosaidh stood, haloed in a dark mist on a bright sunny day. “Come down an’ ask me nicely.”
He felt her rage. The wind blasted him this time, causing dirt to strike him in the eyes. But even though briefly blinded, he did not release Coinneach. Instead, he sent his power at the tower, intending to strike stones from it.
But his powers failed him entirely.
He was furious and disbelieving.
The gods would dare to interfere now?
He had sworn off his vengeance against the MacDougalls, and his revenge now was against the evil hunting Tabitha!
But he was trying to change history, and it was not allowed.
Criosaidh laughed and this time, her black magic brought hail upon him. He withstood the onslaught somehow, refusing to cower, refusing to release Coinneach, who remained untouched by the debris. When it was over, he was bleeding and breathless and furious.
“You dare to fight me?” she called down to him. “I am the most powerful here!”
He looked up, wiping blood from his eyes. And then he saw the other witch at her side, pale, blond and diminutive in size.
Furious and aware of being weakened, he flung his power at them both—with no results.
Criosaidh roared and lightning cut across the bright blue skies. Macleod tensed. If she could strike him with the lightning, he would become very mortal, he had not a doubt.
Leap away.
Macleod looked past the Highlanders at Nick and the woman. Nick was telling him to flee like a coward. He wasn’t a coward but he needed his power to vanquish Criosaidh. There was no other possible way.
“Macleod!” Tabitha screamed.
Stunned, he turned. In doing so he accidentally released Coinneach, who ran into the safety of the MacDougall soldiers. And he saw her standing with Royce and Allie, her face pale with fear, her expression imploring him to run and hide.
“Get her gone!” he shouted in alarm. He was afraid Criosaidh would try to destroy her again and, this time, succeed.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the lightning bolt came.
He saw it come from above, veering toward him. And as its fork sizzled toward his heart, he knew he was going to be struck and that he would die.
Tabitha screamed in horror.
The lightning blazed into him, fire meeting flesh, searing it, and going through tendon, muscle and bone.
Macleod fell.
Blue flashed before his eyes—the bright blue Highland sky—and then there was only darkness.