Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) (27 page)

With a wide thrash, Keir shot out his hand and black lightning erupted.

As if materializing from thin air, the mysterious stranger formed into Colin. He flung his arms up in the air and started to chant.

“Ecce terra mea, et in arcem ex me tibi iniqua interdicunt. Nunc et usque in sæculum.”

Seth, teeth gritted, started to repeat the same words.

A voice, maybe Torra’s, entered her mind and said the words so that she would understand.

Here on my land, in my castle, I ban you from this ground. Now and forever.

Over and over, Colin and Seth chanted.

Then, through all the chaos, the ghostly form of a robed man with long white hair appeared. Just like in her dream! He said nothing but lashed out against the fiery form of Colin MacLeod. Soon caught in their own private war, the two struggled within twisting tunnels of fire and wind.

Meanwhile, her husband and Seth shot bullets of black and white lightning at Keir. Caught between a warlock and the magic his own son had taught another, the dark enemy began to struggle. But he was by no means ready to give up. Infuriated, he lashed out at Seth first.

When her friend took a direct hit, pain sliced across his face. His shield over them weakened and she felt a portion of what he’d felt when her muscles suddenly tightened. She could only compare the feeling to one big body-ridden Charlie horse. Inhaling sharply through her teeth, McKayla looked at her cousins as best she could. Blatant pain was apparent on their faces as well.

Though her eyes shone brighter and brighter, Torra seemed at peace.

Worried about Seth and her cousins, it took several long seconds to realize that Keir had swiftly turned his attack back to Colin. His fellow MacLomains, still caught in a time vortex, could do nothing but watch. Terribly enough, their laird was somehow trapped, ensnared and imprisoned magically by their adversary’s rage. With a crazed roar, Keir unleashed an even stronger bolt of energy at Colin.

McKayla watched in horror as a tornado of darkness wrapped around Colin, whipping him up the wall so fast that it appeared his head snapped against the ceiling. Like a ragdoll he fell to the floor.

“Ecce terra mea, et in arcem ex me tibi iniqua interdicunt. Nunc et usque in sæculum,”
Seth croaked over and over.

Like a cool wind over sunburned skin, another soft voice joined him.
“Ecce terra mea, et in arcem ex me tibi iniqua interdicunt. Nunc et usque in sæculum.”

Keir Hamilton’s aura bubbled with sparks and what almost appeared to be the misconstrued pixels on a fuzzy television screen. Staggering backwards, he swung his gaze her way.

But it wasn’t actually directed her way at all.

No, he looked at Torra MacLomain.

“I’ll find you no matter where you go
Nathair sgiathac.
You belong to
me,
” he promised, his tongue sluggish. Now he was caught in the same anti-gravity he’d inflicted on everyone else.

The energy that Seth had maintained fizzled away as he fell back and Torra stood. Fine boned and stunningly beautiful, her gaze fell on all in the room. There was compassion and trust in her surreal gaze.

Her eyes, shining with a ferociousness meant only for him, once more connected with Keir’s and she repeated, “
Ecce terra mea, et in arcem ex me tibi iniqua interdicunt. Nunc et usque in sæculum.”

Then, fleet of foot, she dashed across the room and leapt onto the window’s eave.

For what felt like several long excruciating moments, she hovered there.

What was she doing? Oh God, no. Don’t do it.

After a long inhale, Torra’s body rippled and she jumped.

With a mad cry of outrage, Keir was sucked unwillingly into the fire. Before he faded away, the ghostly man with long white robes shot one last ravenous bolt at the vanishing form of Colin MacLeod. In an instant the fire sizzled down then puffed out, taking the evil creatures with it. 

As soon as Keir and Colin MacLeod warped away, the blackness on the walls turned to water and trickled down. All were released from whatever spell they’d been under. Blades still swinging, they were met with an empty room.

Horrified, McKayla ran to Colin. “Please don’t be dead,” she said over and over and over. “Don’t you dare be dead.”

All stumbled to them, their attention torn between their laird and their kinswoman, Torra.

As McKayla ran her hands over Colin, she murmured that his gods bring him back from wherever he was. “Please, my love,” she prayed.

“Holy hell, look,” Sheila whispered, one concerned hand on McKayla, the other on the window sill.

Stone still clenched in her hand, she barely glanced but that was enough. Hands on her husband, her jaw dropped as she stared. 

As if whipped away by the events, or perhaps created by the events themselves, the hurricane was veering off and unveiling a large round moon. But that’s not what Sheila referred to.

Not at all.

No, her steadfast gaze was on Torra as she sailed away with wings spread wide and her strong body fluid in the air.

Not a woman at all…

But what could only be a dragon.

“Ouch!” McKayla ripped away her riveted gaze and tossed aside the stone.
Hot!

But there was little time to wonder why.

Suddenly, a horrible sucking sensation pulled at her. The smell of burning sugar stung her nostrils. Mortified, she looked down at Colin only to find that he’d vanished. Crippled beneath what she knew were the side effects of time-travel, she wrapped her arms around her mid-section and put her head to the ground.

“No, no, no,” she whispered.

As fast as it’d happened the terrible jarring sensation soon passed.

“McKayla,” Sheila groaned.

“It’s okay. We’re home,” Leslie reported, her voice shaky.

Careful, still trying to adjust to her surroundings, McKayla sat up. They were on the front lawn of the old colonial. Head in hands, she said, “Please tell me I didn’t imagine all that.”

“You didn’t. We were there,” Leslie assured, holding her head as well.

Sheila grabbed the bench to steady herself. “But how? The last thing I knew Colin and Seth had sort of defeated a real nasty guy, the next we were looking at a…”

“Dragon,” McKayla whispered.

“Still undecided on that,” Leslie said, blinking to adjust to her surroundings.

“Really?” Sheila rolled her eyes. “You saw the big winged creature with scales and claws yet you’re not sure?”

Leslie frowned. “We witnessed things in that chamber far beyond our wildest imagination. While I concede things were crazy I certainly won’t agree to having seen a
dragon
. That’s a bit of stretch.”

“Seriously, you’re going to play Agent Scully after all of that? Good thing there’s no Mulder to say, “Uh what?” because he would. God, again,
really
Leslie? Time froze, people were speaking Latin, and oily black stuff was everywhere.”

“And I concede to all that,” Leslie granted, pulling up until she sat on the swing. “What I’m saying is that there’s no proof what we saw was a dragon.”

“Alrighty, Scully.” Sheila rose to her feet, hand braced against the tree.

“Enough!” McKayla said.

Both looked at her and quieted.

“Enough,” she repeated softer. “And I won’t apologize for being sharp this time.” It was hard not to panic. “Last I knew Colin was very ill. I have no idea if I healed him or not. He could be dead.”

“You can heal people?” Sheila said.

“I don’t think he’s dead,” Leslie added.

“Yeah, I guess it’s my gift,” McKayla said, coming to her feet. When the world swayed she braced herself against the bench. “Or at least I thought it was. But then Colin was hurt and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t able to help him.”

“Pretty sure you did,” Leslie said.

“I appreciate your optimism but if I had wouldn’t I still be there?”

“Not sure it’s necessary.” Sheila nodded toward the house.

Her eyes flew back to the colonial. Heart skittering like a mad animal in her chest, she stared at the man standing in the doorway. Colin, kilted and well enough considering.

Afraid that if she blinked he’d vanish, she ran.

Still weak, she stumbled a few steps but it didn’t matter. He met her halfway and swung her around. The minute her feet hit the ground his lips were on hers. Warm, alive, he was right here. Not dead at all. Pulling back, she cupped his cheeks and asked, “How are you here? Are you okay? I don’t understand.”

“There’s plenty of time to understand.”

She studied his eyes, the trauma of what they’d just witnessed still rippling through both her body and emotions. So much had happened. Terrible things. Why
was
he here alone? Almost afraid to ask she whispered, “Where’s Seth?”

“Seriously? You have to ask?” With a wide, devilish smile, Seth appeared in the doorway. “I would’ve been out here to greet you but Colin says I need to rest.”

Overjoyed that they’d all made it home safe she gave him a long, heartfelt hug too. When she pulled back the strain in his face was clear. What he’d done back there had taken a lot out of him. “Are you all right?” she asked, worried.

“If I’m alive, I’m okay,” he said. “Trust me on that one.”

Seth looked over her shoulder at Colin. “Your man, however, not so much.”

“I’m fine,” Colin muttered.

But he wasn’t. She was so happy that he was alive that she hadn’t seen he was hurting. Yet this hurt had nothing to do with Keir.

“You healed me,” Colin assured and sat down on the bench.

Still off-kilter, Leslie said, “Hang on. I’ll get something for him to drink.”

McKayla sat down next to Colin and frowned. “Oh no. The mark on your side. You were never supposed to travel to the future again!” Frightened, she studied the circle. Angry and red, it appeared almost closed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“He’s stubborn,” Seth muttered when Leslie brought out both water and whiskey.

“I had to know you and your cousins arrived safely,” Colin said, taking the water.

She looked around and frowned. “Where is Ferchar?”

“Home already, glad to be reunited with his family.”

“And what of Keir Hamilton? Was he destroyed?” Sheila asked. “And is your sister
really
what I think she is?”

“Enough with all the questions,” Seth said. “Can’t you see the man’s in pain?”

“Nay, ‘tis fine,” Colin said and downed his water. “Though we’ve banned him from the castle ‘twill not be the last we hear from Keir Hamilton. And now we know that Nessa MacLeod was his minion and Colin MacLeod his ally. No doubt he will strengthen his army and pursue Torra. While I’m sure he’ll not give up on his blood oath to destroy me, his main focus as it has always been will be my sister.”

“So there truly is a Colin MacLeod,” McKayla murmured.

“Without doubt,” Colin reported. “A wizard who can manipulate fire like Ferchar but possesses a darker heart. Keir has partnered himself with a formable power indeed.”

“Colin MacLeod said he’d planted his name in my mind.” She shivered and touched her fingertips to her temple. “How do I know he’s still not in my head?”

“He’s not,” Colin assured. “He but used the power of suggestion via magic. A timeless trick that inspired you to write his name. ‘Tis a simple bit of magi that is untraceable.”

“Are you sure?”

“Never more so.”

Then she would have to take his word for it. Nothing good could come from dwelling on the idea that a monster had influenced her thoughts

Puzzled, McKayla said, “And the old man from my dream was there. It seems he’s defended me twice now. Or should I say us.”

Colin nodded. “Aye. ‘Twas the ghost of Adlin MacLomain. I suspect our paths will cross again.” He and Seth exchanged a bemused look. “As we learned briefly before, it seems my kin has already visited with your warlock several times.”

That’s right! Interested, she looked at Seth.

“During the unraveling of Calum’s curse when I discovered what I’d become,” he reminded. “But those stories are better left for another day.”

“Stories we’d be interested in hearing for sure,” Sheila said, eyes round.

Seth winked but said nothing more about it.

McKayla, though still processing everything, found her mind wandering back to his sister. Awed, she looked at Colin. “Torra is a dragon, isn’t she?”

For a moment, his gaze seemed far away. “Aye, at least partly. ‘Tis why she became a recluse. The beastie inside of her struggled for freedom. But Torra didn’t want to leave her clan, her brethren, so she fought to repress it all these years.”

The girls, even Seth, stared, expressions equally slack with disbelief.

“She must be incredibly strong,” Leslie said with admiration.

“More than we ever knew,” Colin acknowledged, emotion in his voice.

Sheila nodded. “She’ll be okay. I don’t doubt it for a second.”

Colin worked at a weak smile.

“So I assume Keir’s anti-time-travel gate is destroyed?” McKayla said.

“Aye, and much to William’s relief, Coira made it back to the castle safely.”

Glad to hear it, McKayla rested her hand on his shoulder and squinted. A small mark was forming just above his collar bone. Her eyes widened. “This…this looks like the tattoo that was on my book’s cover model. And it’s in the exact same spot!”

Leslie and Sheila leaned closer, slack-jawed.

“
Exactly
like it,” Leslie said.

“Your story has always interwoven with all that has happened,” Colin said. “I believe ‘twas the magic in you, lass. A magic determined to bring you closer to me and Scotland.”

“The mark seems to darken even as we speak,” she murmured, running her finger over it.

“Bradon and Malcolm developed the same mark but in different areas. They began to form when Torra left so we’re guessing they have to do with her. Though we cannae be sure yet her reasoning.”

“Interesting,” Seth said.

“Verra,” Colin said.

“And what does that circular tattoo mean?” Leslie asked.

McKayla took a deep breath and swigged down some whiskey. “That he never should have come. It has the ability to trap him here.”

“And as it turns out ‘tis not of Keir’s device,” Colin said. “‘Twas of the MacLomains. My ancestors. Mayhap even Adlin. A punishment of sorts for manipulating time travel as I did when I killed my mentor and brought McKayla back with the Lucid Dream mask.”

“That’s terrible.” McKayla shook her head. “Why would they do such a thing to one of their own?”

Colin didn’t seem overly troubled by it. If anything, his response was somewhat reverent. “To reiterate that traveling through time is to be respected. Doing such has the ability to change the course of history. We must always be verra careful. This mark reminds not only me but my brethren and future generations that such negligence willnae be tolerated.”

“So you’re not upset?”

“Nay, I have no right to be. I’ve learned my lesson,” he said. A flicker of pain crossed his face and he held his side.

“You need to get home now, friend,” Seth said.

McKayla looked from Seth to Colin. “He’s right, isn’t he? The door is almost closed.”

“Almost,” Colin said, expression stern as he looked at Seth. “I need to know they’ll be safe.”

“Really?” Seth asked. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’ll protect them with my life.”

“Right,” her husband said. “But I expect more than that.”

“I know a few more warlocks. Trust me, they’ll protect all in this time period just as readily,” Seth pledged.

McKayla looked between the men. It seemed they were no longer enemies but allies.

A strange look passed over her face when Sheila asked, “How did Malcolm fare? I know his wife wasn’t well liked but still…”

“He’s in a dark place right now, lass,” Colin said. “I was only home a day after but ‘twill take much time for him to recover.”

McKayla was shocked to see her cousin’s eyes glass over. “Of course, I can’t imagine the heartache.”

“May none of us come to such an end,” he murmured a prayer to the gods.

“So true.” Leslie cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “And what of your brother? He put up a good fight. Is he well?”

Colin’s eyes met McKayla’s, amused before his attention turned to Leslie. “He’s well enough. Much thanks for asking.” But then her husband’s eyes grew troubled. “It seems he’s made a vow to find, protect and bring home our sister.”

Leslie thought it over briefly. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“The vow of a highlander is always a good thing. But ‘tis a quest he wishes to make on his own. As his brother, that worries me.”

“Right,” Leslie agreed. “It certainly sounds like a strong promise.”

Once more, the ring on her finger burned so McKayla held up her hand and twisted it. “Seth, don’t you think it’s time to remove this?”

Sheila and Leslie looked at her, twirling similar rings and almost at the same moment held up their hands.

“Why have I got one?” Sheila asked.

“I don’t do Claddagh rings. Please remove mine immediately,” Leslie said.

“No can do,” Seth said, a speculative look on his face. “While I put the first one on McKayla’s finger, it seems hers and yours have since taken on a new purpose.”

“What?” Leslie and Sheila said at once.

Sheila was thrilled.

Leslie was upset.

“I told you this might not go well,” Colin volunteered.

Seth shrugged. “Again, it’s not all me.” He looked at Colin. “And you did have a small part in it. That rock says it all.”

“What rock?” McKayla asked, then trailed off.

The rock from the trunk.

The very stone she’d been holding before they’d traveled back to the future.

“Aye,” Colin admitted. “Mayhap I had a wee bit to do with it.” He looked at Seth. “But so did you and Torra to be sure.”