Highlander’s Curse (19 page)

“There’s only one thing to do.” Colin’s urgent whisper broke her line of thought. “Wish us out of here. Send me back to my own time.”

Not again. Not here. Not now. She simply couldn’t take being cooped up in this dark little tomb with Colin flipping out again. “You are
not
going to start up on that Faerie Magic, time travel crap again. We’re in a lot of trouble here, Colin. Try to hold it together for me.”

Because if he didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could.

“Listen to me, Abby Porter. Dinna you say a single word until I’ve finished, do you hear? I ken the absurdity of what I say, but it’s the truth, every word of it. Yer a
descendant of the Fae. You’ve the power of their Magic and you used it to bring me to yer side that morning in Denver. I dinna ken the reason why but that’s of no importance now. That man out there is a Nuadian Fae. He took yer blood to share in yer Magic. He willna give up and he willna go away until he finds us. We must leave this place, Abby. It’s the only way.”

His last words rang in her mind, a duplicate of what he’d said to her in her dreams.

Her body began to tremble uncontrollably and he tightened his arm around her, whispering into her ear.

“You’ve the power, Abby. Wish us out of here.”

“How the hell—”

His large hand clamped over her mouth and he held her close. Only as she heard the footsteps directly outside did she realize he’d stopped her in time to keep her from giving away their hiding spot.

“I know you’re close,” Jonathan’s voice called from somewhere outside. “I’ll find you. It’s only a matter of time, you know. Make it easy on yourselves and give up now.”

Whoever had first said you weren’t really scared while something was actually happening, but only after it was over, should have his butt kicked seven ways to Sunday. Because whatever this mess was that she was in, it was happening right at this moment and Abby could confirm for a fact that she’d never been so frightened in her entire life.

Crazy guy in here demanding she
wish
them out of trouble; crazy guy out there taking potshots at them with a gun.

“How?” she whispered when Colin moved his hand.

“Wish it. Concentrate on sending me back to my own time. Wish us safely in our homes and say the words aloud.”

Insanity. But no more insane than sitting in a hole in the ground waiting to be murdered or eaten or crushed to death.

“I wish we weren’t here.” Though the words were more truthful than any she’d ever said aloud, nothing happened.

Not that she’d really expected it to.

“No,” he breathed into her ear. “You must wish for the places where we are to be. For the places we need to be. We’ll concentrate together. See it in yer mind. See us there in yer mind.”

How did he expect her to see a place she’d never been?

She closed her eyes while he held her close, snuggling her forehead against his chin as she formed a picture of the two of them together in her mind’s eye. “I wish for us to be in a safe place. In whatever place you would most like us to be. I wish to be in your home, in your time.” There. That should make him happy.

She tried to imagine the place she felt most safe, with walls firmly separating them and the maniac searching for them. Walls, hell, she wanted Jonathan in a whole different place from them.

Try as she might, the only vision she could bring into focus was the one from her dreams, she and Colin in that huge bed, the room around them lit only by the dancing flames of a fireplace.

A thought flickered through her mind, allowing her
to wonder if, when Colin concentrated, he saw them as she did, naked, limbs entangled in the great bed from her dreams.

“Wait.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “What words did you say?”

She had no time to think about Colin’s question, as the ground around them began to shake. Her eyes flew open as he tightened his hold on her.

“Oh, shit,” she breathed. This was it. The mountain really was coming down on them.

Her view was mostly obscured by her position in Colin’s arms, but from what she could see, she’d almost swear they were being attacked by a swarm of bees. Fast-flying, multicolored bees dived all around them, sounding as if they pinged off the walls on every side of them.

She waited, expecting to feel the sting of attack any moment. Instead, it suddenly felt as if the ground had given way beneath them, the sensation one of falling a great distance.

Only the knowledge that Colin held her, his arms tightening around her yet again, gave her any measure of security as the black void closed in and reality slipped away.

Either the mountain had given way or all this had, in fact, been no more than a bad dream after all.

F
ind her, find her, find her . . .

The words echoed inside Flynn’s head, pounding at his mind even as the pain seared through his thigh in a hideous, utterly foreign sensation. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his old self, he recognized that it was the Bloodlust that had taken him. The Bloodlust that tinged his vision as though he viewed the world through a red prism.

Even knowing, he was powerless against it. He had become the Bloodlust.

He scrambled higher up the rocky hillside, his feet slipping on the loose gravel and twigs. A flash of white brushed his peripheral vision and he lifted his weapon, firing a shot blindly in that general direction.

No! Too dangerous. Can’t risk killing her.

All would be lost if that happened.

Must find her. Reason with her. Convince her to come with him.

“I know you’re close.” He called out in his desperation, hoping against hope they’d give their position away. “I’ll find you. It’s only a matter of time, you know. Make it easy on yourselves and give up now.”

Not far now. He could all but feel her. Could almost feel her heart beating in time with his own.

Must be systematic. Slow down.

He retraced his steps, stopping where the path curved into the trees.

Find her, find her, find her. . .

No longer able to ignore the throbbing in his thigh, he dropped to his knees, struggling to breathe through the pain.

It was then he saw it, dancing in the corner of his vision. A green light that seemed to glow from the misshapen branches to his right. Branches oddly growing from the rock face.

He stuffed the gun into the pocket of his jacket before he reached out to clasp his hand around the rough bark, intending to pull himself to it for a closer inspection. But the wood gave way, revealing an opening in the rock.

What had appeared as a mere glow through the branches burst from the opening in a shaft of brilliant emerald light, knocking him flat even as it bathed him in a flood of frenzied sparkles.

From this vantage, he could see beyond the opening, into the interior of the shallow cave. There, in the very
heart of the light, the woman he sought, cradled in the interloper’s arms!

He would have called out, would have dragged himself forward to claim what was rightfully his, but the world turned upside down and sucked him soundlessly into a vast, black void.

C
olin awoke in the dark, aware only that he was no longer in the cave. The Magic had worked, and though he sensed no immediate danger, where the Magic had taken him—or when—he had no idea.

Where or when it had taken
them
.

Abby lay in his arms, her legs entangled with his. Warm, soft, and invitingly naked, her skin caressed his, seriously impairing his ability to concentrate on their surroundings.

When her hand slid up his chest to his face, tenderly guiding his mouth down to meet hers, what little sense he had deserted him completely. He ran his tongue across her lower lip before dipping inside. Just as he remembered, she tasted sweet, like a marvelous mix of mint and honey.

She anchored her hand behind his neck and pressed
her body against his. He tightened his arms around her, deepening the kiss, losing himself in the moment. She moaned against him, a soft mewling, needy sound that drove him wild with desire.

Rolling her to her back, he fit himself into the warm cradle between her legs, eliciting another of those little noises as she locked her ankles behind his back. He rocked against her once, twice, his need growing until he thought he might burst.

She met each of his moves with one of her own, and on the third he found his mark, inching slowly inside her tight heat.

Like coming home to a place created just for him, in this moment, he feared he’d never find its equal again in this life.

Her hips lifted, grinding against his pelvis, and he dropped his hands to those lovely hips, holding them still while he prayed he could last long enough to satisfy them both.

Slowly, very slowly, he eased himself almost all the way out before slowly sliding back in again.

By the Fates! Swiving had never felt like this before.

“Yes. Oh yes,” Abby breathed the words into his ear, urging him on with the movement of her hips against his. “Yes. . .
No
!” Her hands swept from his neck to his chest, pushing against him. “Oh my God! This is real. It’s not the dream at all. This is actually happening. You have to stop. You have to stop this right now!”

Stop? What was this
stop
she spoke of?

His mind blanked and his entire body shuddered as he ceased all motion, still buried just inside her warm sheath.

“We can’t do this. We
cannot
be doing this! Get off me!”

Abby wiggled beneath him and he tightened his grip on her hips, pinning her to the bed below him. Much more of that from her and it would be too late to stop.

“Be still, woman,” he ordered, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “I’ll do as you ask, but dinna you move again. Give me but a moment to collect myself.”

He rested his head against her breast, fighting to regain command of himself as he listened to her heart beat a furious tattoo under his ear. At last, his control somewhat returned, he withdrew, rolling off her and onto his back. Eyes closed, he concentrated on an intricate series of sword work patterns he’d learned in Wyddecol and the footwork involved in each thrust and parry.

Thrust
. He groaned and tried once again to clear his mind.

“I know this place.” Abby’s voice came from just above him in a breathless whisper. “I’ve seen it a hundred times in my dreams. Where are we? How did we get here?”

When he opened his eyes, a dull gray light filtered through the room, emanating from the early morning sun shining through a crack in the wooden shutters high up on the wall. He knew the place as well.

“This is my own bedchamber.”

As soon as he could move again, he’d have to deal with all this. Dun Ard was not where the Magic was supposed to take them, though why he should have expected the Magic to do as he wanted this time was beyond him. His intent had been that she should be
sent to the safety of her own home even as he should have found himself in the woods near Methven. He had certainly not planned on bringing Abby back through time with him, no more than he’d planned on bedding her.