Dangerous Highlander

CHAPTER TWELVE

Cara stared at the space where Lucan had been. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and with the moonlight from the window she had seen all of him. She hadn’t been prepared to see him with the god set free, however. It had been frightening and a little . . . exciting.

To see him change like that, right before her eyes, had been startling. His skin had gone from the dark golden tan to black in the space of a blink. She had witnessed his claws before, but when his eyes had gone obsidian and his teeth lengthened, it had proven to her just how dangerous he was.

Dangerous, aye, but she also knew he wouldn’t harm her. He had proven it to her in so many different ways.

It also infuriated her because she knew he desired her, but his fear of how she would react to him held him back. Cara had always thought herself pious and innocent, but one kiss from Lucan Mac Leod and she was a wanton who thought only of his hands and mouth on her body.

Becoming a nun now was no longer something she wanted or could do. There was no way she could think of that life, not after sampling the desire that hummed through her blood even now.

That was twice in one night Lucan had brought her body to such a state of need only to leave her. She trembled with it but had no idea how to ease herself. Knowing Lucan was in as much pain did not calm her, though. In fact, it exasperated her even more.

She paced the chamber, her hands clenched into fists as she tried to slow her breathing and cool her heated body. It took longer than she would have liked because she kept thinking of Lucan, of his soul-stirring kisses and caresses that left her breathless.

It was only then that she realized she had been standing in the dark. Alone. Cara jerked to a stop and looked around the chamber.

She sank onto the bed and smiled. It had been a long time since she had faced the dark with such bravery. She wasn’t sure if she could do it again, or how much longer she could stay in the chamber without light, but she was amazed that she was there at all.

And she had Lucan to thank for that. He was the one who had tried to tell her it would be all right, that he was there to protect her. She hadn’t listened to him, but when he had kissed her all her attention had focused on him, with everything else forgotten.

Warriors could have stormed the castle and she wouldn’t have cared. Nothing mattered as long as she was in Lucan’s arms. It seemed cruel that she had found some measure of peace and security in the one man who didn’t think he was worthy to give it to her.

If anyone could protect her, it was Lucan.

She scooted back against the headboard and pulled the blankets around her. Lucan had told her to stay in the chamber until one of them came back for her. She hoped it was Lucan who came, because she was going to prove to him that she still wanted him—god and all.

The chance never came, however. She stood and readied for the day after she watched the sun break over the horizon. Her eyes were scratchy from lack of sleep and her head ached from thinking about Lucan and what could be lurking in the dark.

She feared for him. She feared for all three brothers, because despite the powerful god inside them, they weren’t ready for the coming battle. Oh, Quinn wanted a fight. That much was obvious. But his rage would get the best of him.

Fallon would readily draw his sword and stand by his brothers, but that wasn’t what they needed. They needed Fallon to release the god, to become a Warrior.

And Lucan. She sighed. Lucan would try to be all things for everyone because it was what he did. He would want to stand beside Quinn and watch his back as he ran headlong into the battle. Lucan would want to stay by Fallon because he understood why Fallon wouldn’t give in to the god. And Lucan would want to stay next to her to protect her.

Any way she looked at it, Lucan would die. He would be unfocused, his mind on too many people to protect himself and battle the Warriors.

Cara might not know a lot, but she understood that these Warriors had accepted the god inside them and knew just how powerful they were.

For over three hundred years the MacLeod brothers had denied what was inside them. Denied it and refused to learn what their limits were. That had to change if they were going to beat Deirdre.

Cara blew out a breath and straightened the bed. Once that chore was completed, there was no reason for her to stay in the chamber. She glanced out the window but saw little of the village.

Cara left the chamber and headed to the kitchen to prepare something to break their fast. She didn’t know where the brothers were, but she had to do something. She couldn’t sit any longer.

When she reached the kitchen she was surprised to find it clean and neat. There were three fireplaces where meat could be stewed in one of the large cauldrons or spitted. Off to the side she spotted a large buck tethered and awaiting slaughter. Thanks to hunting and the sea that teemed with fish, the MacLeods had plenty of meat.

Cara walked to one of the windows and glanced outside. She could still see where the garden had once been. Weeds had overtaken it. The few pots that stood next to the castle were broken, smashed in the attack on the castle so many years ago.

Her fingers began to tingle and something told her to go to the garden. Cara frowned at the pile of earth. It would take months to clean the garden, and she had other things to do first. She fisted her hands and turned away from the window.

She saw something wrapped on a nearby table and walked to it. She knew before she opened it that it was bread.

Angus had been supplying the brothers with bread and, she suspected, whatever else he could get to them. She thought of the candles she had burned, uncaring of where they had come from. There was no one at the castle to make candles. They had come from the village, she was sure. Now there was no one there to make more once hers were burned out.

Cara winced at her decadence. Sister Abigail had told Cara she needed to think of others more, that she put herself in the forefront too often. When it came to the dark, she didn’t have a choice over her fear.

Yet she had sat in the dark for hours. She had been terrified, but Lucan had been with her. He had promised her nothing lurked in the shadows waiting to attack.

It had been the most difficult thing she had done, to sit in the dark, her mind racing with possibilities. But she couldn’t put the brothers in jeopardy, either. Lucan would never have blown out her candles had there not been danger. She understood that, and for him she had faced her demons.

She blinked and focused on the kitchen. After a bit of scrounging, she found trenchers and gathered some oatcakes and the last bit of cheese she discovered and set it in the great hall. It wasn’t until she returned from the kitchen with a pitcher of water that she saw Fallon standing by the table staring at the food.

“What is it?” she asked. “Were you saving the cheese?”

Fallon shook his head. “It’s been a very long time since a woman has served me.”

“Sit,” she said. “I would bake some bread or make soup for supper, but there are few supplies in the kitchen.”

“We got most everything from Angus. He and Quinn had a special relationship.”

She glanced at the door hoping to see Lucan. One heartbeat, two, and still no Lucan.

“Cara,” Fallon said.

She looked at him and forced a smile. “Will it be just us this morn?”

He stared at her a moment, his dark green eyes taking everything in. “For the moment. Quinn is at the village to see if he can learn anything.”

She refused to ask about Lucan, but the question burned inside her. Instead, she handed Fallon an oatcake and filled his goblet with water.

“We used to want for nothing,” he said after he took a bite of cheese. “Sheep dotted the hillsides and we fished the sea. My mother cultivated a rich garden full of herbs and flowers. A steady supply of milk, water, and wine was always available for whoever wanted it. I havena had milk in so long I’ve forgotten the taste.”

“You and your brothers have survived when others would have returned to Deirdre.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Lucan is the one who kept us together. Had it been just Quinn and I, we would have gone our separate ways years ago.”

“You don’t know that. Quinn loves you. You’re his only link to his past, and though he may hold much anger, he won’t forget that.”

Fallon tilted his head to the side. “And what of me, Cara? How do you see me?”

She sat and took a bite of an oatcake and chewed, giving herself time to think. The last thing she wanted to do was anger Fallon, but he had asked. She shrugged as she swallowed the food. “I think you’re afraid of the god, afraid of what you might do. I think you want to do the right thing, you want to be there for your brothers as you always have, but you’ve forgotten how.”

Fallon smiled. “How is it you can be here for just a few days and see things so clearly?”

“I don’t know.” Cara lowered her gaze and turned the oatcake in her fingers.

“What do you see of Lucan?”

She had been afraid Fallon would ask. “Nothing.”

“I think you’re lying. You see Quinn and me for what we are. I think you see Lucan for what he is as well.”

“Lucan is a good man,” she said.

“Without a doubt, he’s the best.”

She raised her gaze to Fallon. “He . . . he fears disappointing or failing either of you. He keeps much hidden in order to keep the three of you together.”

Fallon’s brow furrowed. “What does he keep hidden?”

“His feelings, his wishes, his desires.”

Fallon sighed and reached to the floor where he had set his wine bottle. He lifted it to his lips and drank deeply. “We’ve made a muck of things, haven’t we?”

“You’ve done the best you could with what you had.” Cara rose. She had thought she wanted company, but Fallon dug too deep into her own feelings. “I’m going to walk around.”

“Be careful. There are places in the castle that aren’t safe.”

She nodded. “I will.”

Lucan dropped his head back against the stones after Cara left the great hall. He had taken a spot near the ceiling, deep in the shadows where another stairway used to be leading to a different part of the castle that was now rubble.

He hadn’t realized Cara had seen all of them for exactly what they were. Her words had put things into perspective. However, he still didn’t trust himself to be alone with her.

Alone? You wouldn’t even eat with her and Fallon. God help him it was true. He would want to sit near her, smell the heather on her skin, but if he did, he would want to touch her. And that he couldn’t do. Not ever again.

He glanced down at Fallon to find him watching him.

“You might as well come and eat now,” Fallon said.

Lucan shook his head. “I’m going to check on Quinn. Keep an eye on her.”

He didn’t wait for Fallon to answer; Lucan trusted his brother to keep Cara safe. Lucan jumped to the floor and strode from the great hall. Quinn had been gone too long.

* * *

Quinn hid behind one of the cottages and listened to the men talking. Twenty more MacClures had arrived and set about gathering the bodies. They were discussing burying them or burning them. Since there were about fifty bodies, the vote was leaning toward burning.

He heard movement behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see Lucan moving slowly over the grass toward him.

“What are they doing?” Lucan asked.

Quinn shrugged. “Mostly muttering about wanting to find the bastards that did this,” he whispered. “I wonder if we looked as they do when we found our clan.”

“You mean appalled, angry, shocked, and bitter? Aye, Brother, I’m sure we looked just as they do.”

“Deirdre got perverse pleasure out of it.”

Lucan snorted. “How something so beautiful could be so evil I’ll never understand.”

“I’ve never seen anyone with hair like hers,” Quinn said, remembering. “It hung to the floor and was as white as snow.”

“Aye. I remember. I also remember her choking me with it.”

Quinn grimaced. “I’d forgotten that. It’s like her magic can control her hair.”

“I know.”

Quinn almost grinned at Lucan’s dry tone. He hadn’t been himself since he’d brought Cara into the castle. Quinn had caught his brother watching Cara, his gaze steady, as if he was trying to memorize every detail. He should tell Lucan not to bother, that it didn’t work, but decided to hold his tongue.

“Who is that?” Lucan asked.

Quinn leaned to the side to see who Lucan meant. When Quinn saw the petite woman with hair as black as pitch he shrugged. “She hasna said a word. She arrived with them, yet no one speaks to her and few look in her direction.”

“She doesn’t look scared.”

“She doesn’t look comfortable, either,” Quinn said. “I’m not sure what her role is.”

Lucan gave his chin a jerk. “Is the tall, barrel-chested man the MacClure laird?”

“Aye.”

“Maybe she’s his wife.”

Quinn watched them for a moment. “He makes sure she stays close to him, but he won’t touch her. It’s almost as if he’s afraid of her. An odd way for a man to treat a wife.”

Lucan only grunted in response.

Quinn was used to Lucan’s quiet ways. He’d always been the thinker of them, the one who waited and watched and formulated a plan, the one with a steady head, a cool temper. It stood to reason that he would be the one to keep them together as well as master the god inside him.

Quinn had always envied Lucan’s control over his emotions. But not even Quinn’s calm brother could hide the fact that something disturbed him, and Quinn knew that something had chestnut hair, dark eyes, and waited in the castle.

“What?” Lucan growled when he caught Quinn staring at him.

Quinn shook his head. “Nothing. Who’s watching Cara?”

“Fallon.”

But Quinn had seen Lucan jerk at the mention of her name. Aye, Cara distressed Lucan, and Quinn found he enjoyed it. It was about time Lucan felt something. For far too long he had kept himself locked inside.

“Fallon will watch her,” Lucan said after a moment. “I trust him with that.”

“What about when the Warriors come? Deirdre may well come herself.”

Lucan sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Fallon won’t let the god out.”

“We’ll be stronger with all three of us. Even you know that.”

“I know,” Lucan agreed. “But you must understand Fallon’s fear.”

Quinn pulled his gaze away, his anger rising to the surface. He felt his claws lengthen, his teeth sharpen. It was always the same fury every time he thought of Fallon refusing to do what could help them most.

As much as Quinn wanted to smash his fist into something, they had to stay quiet as they watched. So he turned his attention, and thoughts, back to the MacClures. “They’re going to burn the bodies.”

“Aye.”

They sat and listened as the MacClure laird drew his men around him. The laird’s voice was deep and forceful. Lucan and Quinn didn’t have to move from their spot behind the cottages to hear that MacClure was sending his men to question other clans about the death of the village.

“This land is cursed,” one man said. “The MacLeods were massacred on it. Right there at the castle.”

Every eye turned to look at the castle. Even Quinn found his gaze pulled to the ruins of his home. There was no movement in the remains, nothing that would draw the MacClures’ interest.

“Calm yourself, Allan,” the laird growled. “The land isn’t cursed. Don’t be spreading lies.”

Allan shook his head and took a step back. “It is, laird. Why else would a village on the land that used to be the great MacLeods’ die the same way as the MacLeods?”

“We don’t know if it’s the same. The MacLeod massacre is a legend.”

“A legend that begins in truth,” the woman said.

Her straight black hair, unbraided and unadorned, lifted in the constant breeze from the sea. She let her gaze travel the circle of men.

“What are you saying, Isla?” the laird demanded.

Quinn nudged Lucan with his hand. “I’ve seen her before.”

“In the village?” Lucan asked.

“Nay. Before, Lucan.”

It didn’t take long for him to realize Quinn spoke of a time before the god had been unbound.

Lucan’s lips thinned. “Where?”

“I cannot remember.”

“Are you sure you’re not recalling a woman that looked like her? Many women have black hair.”

Quinn nodded. He’d caught but a glimpse of her face, but in that moment he had been sure. “Aye, but do many have eyes so pale a blue?”

Lucan’s gaze snapped to the woman. He shifted and moved between two of the cottages to get closer.

Quinn hurried to follow him. He couldn’t remember where he had seen Isla, but he knew he had. If only he could remember where. And when.

Isla turned her face, devoid of any expression, to the MacClure laird. “I’m saying Allan is correct. The MacLeods were executed here. Just as your people were.”

The MacClure laird fisted his hands, and Quinn didn’t know if he would hit Isla or not. “Enough.”

“To send your men out is foolhardy,” Isla continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “Keep them close, laird.”

Quinn stopped Lucan when he would have gotten closer. Isla turned and walked away from the group of men. She halted midstride and suddenly turned and looked over her shoulder at the castle, and for the first time there was a hint of emotion on her face.

It was hatred.