CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #2
Tabby couldn’t smile. Allie was right—she wasn’t alone. And while she wanted to know how she’d wind up in the fifteenth century, she decided not to ask. She could be flung there in five minutes, but Allie had said she’d been with Royce for almost sixty years—and she still looked twenty-five.
Maybe time travel changed the aging process.
Or maybe there was something to that family joke about the Rose women getting better with age. Maybe MacNeil had known Grandma Sara when she was really young and time travel hadn’t been involved. It was a mind-blowing notion.
Allie hugged her another time, taking Royce’s hand. He nodded at her, and then they slipped outside into the dusk.
Tabby turned, her heart racing. Macleod remained at the fireplace, arms folded across his chest, and MacNeil was still seated at the table. He stood and walked over to her. “He tasks even my patience, finally.”
She tensed. “He does have every right to hunt evil.”
“He went to destroy Criosaidh to change the future.”
Tabby tensed. There were no secrets. “He’ll leave Criosaidh alone. I’ll make sure of it.”
MacNeil was skeptical. “Put a leash on him, then.” He paused, his green eyes suddenly concerned. “They’re so enraged they took his powers from him when he needed them most—and they’ll do so again. I am worried about him.”
Tabby inhaled. She had the certainty that MacNeil rarely worried about anything. “Maybe they don’t know…It was only one time!”
MacNeil laughed mirthlessly. “He’s been defying the gods fer a century.
He’s misused his powers time an’ again. He swore to take his vows—but he then goes to change history.
He walks a very fine line, Lady Tabitha.
An’ whatever he intends next, he’s blocked me from his thoughts.
I’d guard him well now—and send him swiftly to Iona, so he can take his vows afore the gods change their mind about him. ”
“Okay,” Tabby whispered. That was two threats, not one, she was certain. The gods were going to take his powers from him another time, and maybe, just maybe, refuse to make him a Master of Time.
MacNeil glanced at Nick and Jan. They were staring at him, too. “The Brotherhood is secret fer many great reasons. I dinna care much fer intruders.”
“Nick fights evil with all of his heart and his entire soul. He’s not here to spy. He’s hunting Kristin.”
“Aye, but he has too many questions. We live by the Code, Tabitha. It is clear. We dinna speak openly to Outsiders.” MacNeil gave the duo another cool look and vanished.
Nick said, “Shit.”
TABBY STARED INTO THE bedchamber she shared with Macleod. The moment MacNeil left, he had gotten up from the table and stalked upstairs. Tabby had followed him. “Are you all right?”
He paused, about to unlock the chest at the foot of the bed, and smiled at her. “Ye worry like a wife.”
His eyes were filled with affection and Tabby’s heart hammered. “I love you.”
He knelt and unlocked the chest, then took out the amulet in its cloth wrapping and stood somberly, holding it tightly. “Ye almost died because of me.”
Tabby shook her head. “We don’t know why Criosaidh’s ghost is hunting me, Macleod.”
“She hunts ye because of my war, my vengeance. Dinna ye feel their hatred and fury today? ’Tis worse now than before. ’Twill become worse with every passin’ day.” Anguish strained his face. “Ye almost died!”
“And you almost died today, too!” Tabby cried. “We’re in this together.”
“I brought ye back here,” Macleod exclaimed.
Tabby breathed hard, aware that she must convince him this was not his fault. “The ghost found me in New York,” she reminded him.
“Aye, because ye fought with it at An Tùir-Tara!”
“And that is written, Macleod.”
He shook his head grimly. “When ye can leap, ye can find anyone at any time, Tabitha. Each moment in our lives will always be happenin’. Ye call it parallel dimensions, but the cycle has to have a beginnin’.”
“What are you getting at?” she cried worriedly.
“MacNeil said ye have never been at Blayde till now. I started this when I brought ye here.”
“I’m glad you brought me here!”
He appeared ravaged. “I only wanted to keep ye safe. I failed ye, Tabitha.”
Tabby cried out and rushed to him, suddenly seeing him as a boy on the beach, bloody, sandy and weeping. She embraced him. “Let me help you!”
He jerked. “What did ye say?”
“Let me help you,” she implored. “I love you, Macleod. You have never failed me and you never will! You did not fail your father, your mother, your family. You did your best to defend them—you were only a boy. And you defended me. I am alive because of you!”
“I would die fer ye…I will die fer ye, Tabitha.”
Was he telling her that he loved her? Or was he telling her something else?
“The boy failed them…I willna fail ye.”
“He didn’t fail.”
“I hate that boy!” Macleod raged, twisting away from her.
Tabby started to cry for him. “I love him,” she said.
He whirled. “Ye love me!”
“I love that lost little boy and I always have and I always will. He is a hero—my hero—just as you are!” She went to him and took his face in her hands.
“Macleod, I know you would die to save me, if you had to, but dying won’t bring them back.
And I won’t let you die—no one is dying here! ” Tabby realized his eyes were moist.
A long moment passed as he breathed hard, trembling. “Criosaidh’s ghost must be stopped.”
Tabby tensed. It was almost as if she could read his mind, she thought, because she knew he was also thinking about failing to destroy Criosaidh that day. He wanted her destroyed still. “We can’t change what is meant to be. She’s not meant to die now. She will be at An Tùir-Tara…with me.”
His face hardened.
Tabby cried out, “Haven’t you learned your lesson? They took your powers from you when you needed them most!”
“I canna stand by an’ wait fer evil to destroy ye.”
“Stop!” She touched his mouth. “I can accept Fate. You have to, too. Macleod, even if it takes me a hundred years, I am going to convince you that the massacre is not your fault—and that this is not your fault, either.”
His eyes softened fractionally and his mouth shifted just as much. “We are at an impasse, Tabitha.”
In that moment, she loved him so much that it hurt. “We really don’t know what happens at An Tùir-Tara. It’s a long time from now. Let’s just take this one day at a time. We’ve been through hell. We need a respite. And…I need you, Macleod.”
He unwrapped the cloth and the gold pendant glowed brightly in his palm. “Ye’ll take this now. Ye’ll wear it an’ it will keep ye safe.”
Tabby stared at the bright gold palm, feeling its powerful magic more strongly than ever before. More tears came, filling her vision. Of course she would accept it now—but at what cost? “Whatever you are planning, please don’t do it.”
He walked behind her and lifted her hair, settling the necklace around her throat, the pendant warm on her skin in the neckline of her dress. He dropped her hair and clasped her shoulders from behind and spoke against her ear. “It suits ye, Tabitha.”
Tabby felt how hot and hard he was, and how desperate. He wanted her, but his urgency meant something terrible. She turned to face him and found herself in the circle of his arms. “Tell me what you intend, damn it!”
He pulled her close and murmured, “To make love to ye.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” she cried, afraid. “You’re giving me the pendant as if this is goodbye.”
“If ye keep the pendant,” he said hoarsely, “I will always be able to find ye.”
He abruptly lowered his face, claiming her mouth frantically with his. Tabby was so afraid for him, but as their mouths fused, it felt as if it had been so long. She seized his shoulders, kissing him back desperately, so hard their teeth grated and she tasted his blood.
He bent her backward, over the bed, lifting up her gown.
Tabby raised her leg high, hooking her calf over his waist, the movement familiar and natural now.
He grunted, the sound harsh and sexual, triumphant.
Tabby couldn’t stand the anticipation. He knew.
As her back hit the mattress he smiled and plunged into her.
Their union was so intense, so powerful and so right that Tabby cried out, instantly overwhelmed with the power of their love. And so much pleasure began.
He gasped her name and somehow Tabby opened her eyes, reeling in the blinding rapture. Their gazes met. She clasped his face. “I love you.”
His eyes blazed. And he gasped and she felt his seed, hot and burning, as he joined her. He murmured her name, and then he held her, hard, as they soared wildly through the stars together.
But it didn’t last. They were barely over the precipice when he stilled, only his mouth moving as he kissed her cheek and ear.
It was never over so quickly. It took her one heartbeat to become sane and know this was some kind of ending—a goodbye.
“Why are you giving me the pendant now? Why do you think that, with it, you won’t lose me?
Damn it!” She hit his shoulders repeatedly.
He stroked her hair, once, and got up from the bed. “I must do what I must do, Tabitha. I plan to come back to ye. If I dinna, summon MacNeil to take ye home.”
“No!” She rose to her feet.
“I’m going to An Tùir-Tara to finish this once an’ fer all.”
ALTHOUGH HE HAD only just been given the power to leap, he was confident that he had mastered it—as long as the gods did not interfere with him now.
The landing dazed him but he was prepared for that.
As he opened his eyes, the light was blinding.
He was in Melvaig’s large central courtyard but the sky above was on fire.