Sea Wolf Magick (Highlander Magick Series Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter 3

“But, Captin’. Do ye not think it wise to take the lass to shore before the others return? With this bloody wind, they shouldn’t trace her scent. If we hurry, they’ll never know she came on board. Besides, surely one of the locals from the nearby village will run across her soon enough and take her in.” McGregor grumbled and shook his head while lowering the rope ladder back over the starboard side of the ship.

Quinn carried the sleeping woman across the deck and headed below to his cabin. The tapping of McGregor’s wooden crutch followed close behind. Quinn stepped to the side to let the old man pass and listened to his friend rattle with protests. Tired and growing impatient, Quinn sighed, waiting while McGregor finally propped himself on his crutch before reaching to open the door to his cabin.

“I wouldna turn me back on a hurt animal, much less this woman. She’s in dire need of our help.” Quinn replied over his shoulder, as he laid her shivering wet body on his mattress and held out her arm. He waved his hand over the inflamed mark. “And just what do ye suggest I do? Abandon the lass and hope whoever takes her in still takes care of her once they spot this?”

McGregor leaned over and squinted, inspecting the image. His face paled and clouded with concern. He straightened, his eyes wide open as he raked his fingers through his gray stubby beard. “Aye. This does put a different light on things, but I warn ye, Captin’ she might not be any safer here amongst the crew. I still say there’s gonna be trouble if she stays.”

“They’ll have to understand. She’s just as cursed now as the rest of them.” Quinn sighed and wiped his hand over his wet head. “McGregor, my friend, I’ll need your help. ’Tis already been a bloody long night. I need to get the lass settled, and meself cleaned up, before the others return.”

“Go on, Captin’. I’ll take care of her while ye get some rest.” McGregor’s left leg dragged behind as he hobbled to a drawer in the corner of the quarters and snatched out two new shirts and some clean rags. He tossed one of the tops to Quinn while making his way back to the bunk and began tearing the cloths into narrow strips. The old man concentrated on cleaning the fresh wound. “Ye had me worried there for a wee bit, lad. I was beginnin’ to think I’d have to use the boat hook and rescue the lass by meself. I was afraid ye might have finally met yer match from that beasty below.”

“Aye, ’twas touch and go for a bit. After the demon completed its wicked deed, it was determined to finish me off. I made sure it willna hurt anyone else.” Quinn picked up a towel from a chair and dried off his chest before draping the clean shirt over his head and tucking it inside a fresh dry plaid. “I canna understand. For the first time, my instincts proved me wrong. The gray wolf I thought needed our help turned out to be the wretched creature that cursed this lass to an eternity of hell.”

Quinn’s gaze rested on the woman’s bulging naked breasts as McGregor gingerly removed her soaked clothes. At the sight of her chest rising and falling with each breath, his blood boiled and raced through his veins. Long black ringlets draped across her rosy cheeks and slim neck. His inner beast raged at the sight of the distinctive emblem scarring her delicate skin.

Struggling to control his increased cravings, he paced back and forth and watched his best friend tend to her. His knuckles cracked in clenched fists
. I should be the one removing her clothes, not McGregor.

A rumbling growl escaped through his clenched lips. Common sense told him McGregor was old enough to be their father and the only person he could trust. It still didn’t ease the discomfort gnawing at his guts. His thoughts reeling, he forced himself to turn around and head for the door. With his hand clutching the doorknob, he stopped, sensing the old man staring at his back.

“Faith and Begorra! I wouldna have believed this without seein’ it with me own eyes. I dinna think yer instincts were wrong after all, Captin’.” McGregor’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Come take a look for yerself.”

Like a vision of a beautiful angel, the woman slept soundly on her side, her lips curved in a smile. Sweeping curls draped across the pillow. The old man lifted flowing locks from the back of her head and exposed a long slender neck. He tucked the blanket over her bare shoulder.

In a wink, Quinn bolted beside the bed, his attention focused on her distinctive birthmark centered below her hairline when he spotted the tiny design in the shape of a witch’s pentagram symbol covering the emblem of a full moon. He rubbed his chin.

The hairs prickled across his arms. He finally spoke, breaking the confused, growing silence. “This settles it. ’Tis my own fault the lass got hurt. Now, she canna leave. Our friend Kalista will keep a close watch over her.”

Boisterous laughter from on deck startled Quinn awake. His eyelids sprung open, and he jumped from the cot. He hurried up the creaking steps, taking several at a time.

His skeleton crew made up of nine other wolf shapeshifters just returned from spending the night on land. It wouldn’t be long before their keen senses detected the woman’s presence.

Quinn straightened and planted his hands on his hips as he faced the group of misfits. He grinned, watching them sporting with each other. A few of the older men ruffled the red curly mop on the youngest mate’s head, contented looks on their faces. They’d had a decent night’s frolic.

They considered the
Sea Wolf
their home. Quinn was the proud owner and Captain of the ship. McGregor was his first mate and helped him as they traveled across the vast ocean to offer refuge to others like themselves.

For several years now, the ship served as the shapeshifters’ safe haven from being hunted and killed. Their own kind were forced to flee their homes from Scotland and neighboring countries, as wolves were ruthlessly slaughtered through the past century for sport and for their skins. People claimed it was the only way to protect the livestock.

To keep hormones and tempers from flaring and intact, his crew had all agreed to one simple rule: Other than children, no single women allowed.

At least up to now.

McGregor hobbled over and stood by his side. The old codger elbowed Quinn and nodded his head toward Finley, the newest member of their crew. Finley frowned, raised his nose to the heavens and cried a low howl. A growl rose from his throat. The others’ faces grew taught. They turned toward Finley before sniffing the air.

The woman’s intoxicating scent was like honey enticing hungry bears to a beehive. Quinn sensed the growing alarm from the crew. Their gazes turned and focused on him. Hair sprouted on the hands of the younger men. The older crewmen’s eyes narrowed and glowed amber.

“Simmer down, all of you.” Quinn’s voice thundered, enforcing his alpha role. “We have an unexpected guest. I’ll explain more once . . .”

“Wait. Please, stop.” A female voice broke the mounting tension. “Come back here, you little thief.”

A pint-sized winged figure dropped a bundle of wet clothes at Quinn’s feet. Quinn chuckled and scolded his faithful companion. “’Tis enough of yer mischief for now, Kalista. I see you’ve met our new guest.”

The glistening green dragon hovered and flapped its wings before perching herself on his right shoulder. She purred and nuzzled the side of his face, like a cat.

A tall and slender, attractive woman stopped at the top of the steps. His focus centered on her shapely bare legs, exposed beneath a nightshirt of his that she was wearing. She stood hugging her arms around her chest, her face turning a shade of bright red.

A cool breeze blew long strands of raven-black hair across her blushed cheeks, covering her parted lips. Her gaze swept across the surprised faces of his crew before locking with his. She wiped the tresses from her mouth and muttered, “It’s you again.”

Chapter 4

Beth raised her arm, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight, and focused on the peculiar animal sitting on the brawny Highlander’s wide shoulder.
That’s no ordinary parrot.

An older man leaning on a wooden crutch smiled and headed toward her. His face wrinkled with age, his blue eyes sparkling under bushy brows. Except for his height and the gray coloring of his hair, if she didn’t know better, he could pass as Darby’s brother.

Her heart lurched in her chest as she grabbed for the necklace she still wore. With a sigh, she clutched the precious gems in her hand, relieved Darby’s gift hadn’t gotten lost in the ocean.

“Come, lass. I think ’tis best for now if ye go back below.” The man followed her down the steps and closed the cabin door behind them. “The name’s McGregor. I’ll bring ye some food and hot tea, now that ye’re awake.”

Her hungry belly growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since early yesterday. She grabbed a blanket from the bunk and quickly wrapped it around her waist. Beth glanced around the snug cabin for any signs of her parchment. The only scrolls she spotted were maps scattered across a table in the center of the room and the ship’s diary resting on top of a desk stationed directly below a round window looking out at the open sea. She sighed, disappointed that Keara’s artwork was lost and destroyed.
There’s no way it could have survived in that ocean. By the Goddess, I barely survived myself.

Biting her lower lip, she turned and faced the old man. “Thank you. I thought I was imagining things when I spotted your ship. I must have blacked out before your men found me. Where are we anyway?”

“Ye’re safe here on board the
Sea Wolf
.” McGregor hobbled over to a drawer and yanked it open. He removed several pocket-sized jars and a few narrow strips of cloth. “Here, lass, come sit at the table so I can take another look at that wound.”

“I was sure I would never see my family again. My home’s in the Cuillin Hills.” Beth’s hand went to her bandaged arm. Heat penetrated from the dressing. As if she’d just touched a hot pan, she jerked her hand back and winced in pain. “Ouch, that hurt.”

The old man narrowed his eyes, his expression clouded with uneasiness. Taking his time not to hurt her, his knotty fingers expertly tackled the binding and removed the stained bandage. He frowned, inspecting the nasty wound.

Beth’s gaze followed McGregor’s keen stare. Her heart racing, she lowered her head and gasped. The inside of her arm and wrist bared an inflamed design, like a branded animal.
I’ve seen this pattern before. It resembles the same design the spider imprinted on the Highlander sketch.

Except this one had a spear running through the middle of it. She straightened and concentrated on McGregor’s face. “Do you recognize this mark? Can you tell me what it means?

His wrinkled cheeks flushed, as he avoided her gaze. The steady fingers now trembled above her hand before wrapping a chickweed and tea poultice to her inflamed skin. “The Captin’ will be in directly, once he finishes givin’ orders to the crew. I’m sure he’ll help answer your questions.”

“Thank you, Mr. McGregor.” Recognizing the remedy, she forced a smile and watched him apply a clean dressing. “Your tonic should help. I can tell you’ve had experience with medicinal herbs. Are you the ship’s doctor?”

“I wouldn’t say that, lass.” He chuckled, a pair of dimples emerging as his eyes twinkled. “I used to dabble around a wee bit in me own garden back in Ireland. I became determined to use some of these plants to help people not long after a close friend of mine died from deadly wolfsbane. Besides, I find it helps to keep these old hands of mine busy.”

She frowned. The image of the stunning black wolf coming to her rescue flashed in her mind. Her temples throbbed. The memory of the courageous wolf battling against the monstrous animal that dragged her to the dark ocean depth sent chills up her spine. Feeling responsible for the wolf’s demise, she closed her eyelids, struggling to hold back hot tears.

The Goddess must have sent the wolf to save me from that
beast
.

A scorching sharp pain pierced her wrist. The thought of the hideous sea creature sinking its venomous fangs in her flesh made her nauseous. She stared at her arm.

If only Darby was here, he’d probably know what these symbols mean.
I should never have hid the scroll from him in the first place.

She felt McGregor’s gaze studying her face and shoved her arm beneath the blanket. Her gut feeling troubled her that the old man was hiding something. Beth turned her attention to the rocking motion and waves slapping against the ship. Her hand gripped the edge of the table. Footsteps scuttled overhead.

To break the awkward silence, she asked McGregor about the mysterious Highlander plaguing her thoughts. “I believe your Captain and I have already met, but I’m afraid I didn’t get his name.”

“The name’s Quinn. Quinn McCord.” The rugged Highlander stood in the doorway with a boyish grin crossing his handsome face. Wavy chestnut brown ringlets swept directly above his arched eyebrows. Beth took notice of the rippling muscles in his beefy arms, which were crossed over his massive chest. “I’m afraid, lass, ye have me at a disadvantage. Ye recognized me from our first encounter. I’m sure I wouldna have forgotten meetin’ such a beautiful woman as yerself.”

Quinn nodded to McGregor as the old man leaned on his crutch and headed out the door, leaving them alone.

Beth’s gaze locked with the Highlander’s melting chocolate eyes. Just like in the sketch, the immediate sizzling fire sensation raged through her veins. Her face flushed and she rose from her chair, the blanket dropping to the floor.

His arm muscles rippled. She needed fresh air. Clutching the front of the enormous shirt between her fingers, she stammered, “My name’s Beth. Elizabeth McMasters.”

Without Keara’s drawing, there wasn’t any point in trying to explain the uncanny likeness. He probably wouldn’t have believed her anyway. “I must have been mistaken. You bear a strong resemblance to someone I once met.”

A dark object poked its head between Quinn’s legs. A beady pair of coral eyes stared up at her. Beth blinked and recognized the creature that woke her up before taking her clothes. Her mouth dropped open. She pointed and gaped at the rascal.

“By the Goddess, it’s a miniature dragon.”

“Her name’s Kalista.” A boyish grin crossed Quinn’s face as the petite dragon leapt into his hand and wrapped her lanky tail around his wrist. He cradled her in his arms and stroked her scaly forehead. “She’s one of the last of her kind and means ye no harm. Her takin’ yer clothes was just her way of keepin’ an eye on ye.”

With her love for animals, Beth didn’t hesitate in extending her hand in front of the dragon’s pudgy nose. She waited patiently for Kalista to take a whiff of her scent and make friends.

Beth held her breath and kept still as the creature’s spikey horns collapsed backward before rubbing its leathery smooth head beneath her fingertips. Appearing content, it batted its thick eyelashes and purred, reminding her of Keara’s cat, Samson.

Quinn scratched his jaw, one eyebrow raised. “I’ve not seen her lower her barbs before. ’Tis unusual to see her take a quick likin’ to someone. Especially a woman.”

“Then I feel honored.” Beth smiled, cupping the dragon’s smooth chin in her fingers. Beth was quite certain this creature could turn from a lovable pet into a ferocious beast if it had a mind to.
I wonder if she’s a fire-breathing dragon.

“How’s that arm?” Quinn’s voice startled her. He pulled out the chair and motioned for her to sit. “I’ll make sure McGregor keeps a close watch on it.”

“It’s just a bad burn. It should heal in time.” Her gaze dropped to the floor, dodging his eyes. Beads of perspiration popped on her forehead, her limbs and chest growing warm. Finding his nearness exciting but disturbing at the same time, she cleared her throat and clutched Darby’s necklace between her fingers. She tried taking a deep breath, hoping he didn’t notice the immediate effect he had on her.

“I want to thank you for saving me. I’d be fish food by now if you hadn’t come along. I don’t want to be a bother any more than I’ve already been. So as soon as one of your men can take me to shore, I’ll head back to my home. I’m afraid I have no money to pay you for your trouble.” Beth squirmed in the chair, anxious to break the overwhelming desires he stirred inside her.

“’Twas no trouble, lass. But I fear ye willna be able to return home for quite a while. We’ll try to make ye as comfortable as possible during the journey.” His eyes locked with hers. His thick brogue was calm and soothing to her ears.

She hesitated, confused by his reply, and clasped her hands in her lap. “Oh. I don’t mean to put you out of your way. If you’re not close to Cuillin Islands, anywhere in Skye will be just fine. My sister, Keara, and her husband, Duncan McCord, live outside Dunscaith Castle. That’s funny, you have the same last name. Are you related to Duncan by any chance?”

“Nay. Although I’ve heard of him before. Och. So that explains the strange accent. I figured ye couldna be a native from around here. Ye must be visitin’ with yer family.”

“No, I’m not a visitor on holiday. This is my home. I lived far away for a while. Trust me, it’s a long story. Beth could only imagine the Highlander’s reaction if she told him the truth.

People called her the village witch, while others called her a wise woman because of her knowledge of healing with herbs. The older villagers believed she was a powerful enchantress.

It was hard to believe that seven years had passed since she had returned to her original birthplace. With Darby’s help, Beth had traveled back in time from the twenty-first-century in Thurmont, Maryland, to the eighteenth-century mystical Isle of Skye. In her early teens, she’d had her first vision. As she got older, she realized her destiny was to put others’ needs in front of her own.

“I look forward to hearin’ about yer travels. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later, lass. Get some rest, and I’ll be back later to check on ye.” The handsome Highlander turned and headed to the door.

“Wait. Please.” Beth held out her arm. “How long will it be before one of your crew can take me home? I want to make sure I’m ready and dressed.”

“Ye didna’ understand, lass. Our first stop is Shetland Islands. My men will be in need of a full night’s break before travelin’ any further north.” His face showed no signs of relenting.

“The Shetland Islands?” she repeated. A tight knot twisted in her stomach. “Certainly, you can’t be that far from the Isle of Skye already? I can’t pay you right away, but I promise, my family will gladly reimburse you for going out of your way.”

“I’m afraid I canna take ye home. We must hurry if we’re to make it to Faroe Islands before heading to the Land of Fire and Ice.

“Did you say fire and ice? By the Goddess, you certainly can’t mean Iceland?” Beth stood, pressing her fingers to her throbbing temples. She chose her words carefully before she spoke. “Look. I can’t go to Iceland. You don’t seem to understand. I need to get back as quickly as possible and find my friend Darby. Something terrible has happened to him.”

“I’m sorry, lass, but ye dinna have any choice.” The Highlander stood and towered over her. His dark eyes studied her face.

“You can’t be serious. Are you implying I’m your prisoner?” she asked. Her heart pounding, she swallowed hard and matched his gaze. “What could I possibly have that you want?”

“I’m doin’ this for yer own good. Ye didna understand, Beth McMasters. Ye have to trust me. We must hurry if we want to arrive at the Land of Fire and Ice before the next full moon.” His expression grew serious.

“Look here, Captain McCord, yesterday was like a living nightmare from Hell. Things have gotten
way too weird
now. What does the full moon have to do with me?” Her stomach tightened in knots.

“
Mo creach
,” he cursed, and just like in the sketch, his eyes flashed from brown to amber and back again. Gritting his teeth, he ran his fingers through the top of his hair. “I’m tryin’ to help ye, woman, before ’tis too late.”

“Too late? Too late for what?” A blanket of fear wrapped around her. Her imagination ran wild, trying to understand the unbelievable events. She shivered and stepped back from him. Her body tensed, waiting for his reply.

Quinn caringly took hold of her arm and held it in front of her.

“Ye bear the mark of the Maras.”