time. He slowly released his breath and eyed Connor over the camera.
"Well," his tone was brusque, businesslike, "What shall we do about the Campbell? It's clear he canna have his hands on this." He held up the digital camera. " 'Tis more power than I'd care to see him possess."
"Agreed. I think I've an idea, but I'll be needin' your help, brother."
"Anything, Connor. Whatever ye need."
Connor smiled and said, "As you know, I've a man inside the Campbell's keep, a stable hand. He's been gathering what information he can and feeding lies to his men. I've sent a letter to the Campbell's sorcerers to see if they have any news for me. My plan hangs on that, on them and their help."
"I doona like not knowing part of our plan, or being dependent on those
wizards."
Liam spat the word, clearly not trusting them.
"Neither do I," soothed Connor, "but what choice have I?
We need to know what they know. Mayhap then I can understand what it is I feel as if I am missing. I feel as if there is an obvious solution in front of my nose and I canna see it."
Liam's eyes took on a scheming glint in them and he leaned in toward Connor. "Mayhap there's another way. A back-up plan, so to speak." At the light in his eyes, Connor was intrigued. He leaned closer while Liam described the forming of a plan.
* * * *
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The early morning light was coming in the window and it was bright enough to wake Mackenzie. She yawned and stretched luxuriously in bed. It was pure decadence sleeping naked. Connor had been very attentive the night before. He'd woken her several times during the night, each time in a new and exciting way. A small smile curved her lips upward as she remembered some of the ways. She was enjoying married life, that was for sure.
Married. Sheesh. And to a Scottish lord,
laird
, she corrected herself, from the 1700s. Mackenzie smiled at the sheer impossibility of it all. What would she tell her friends?
She thought of Jenna, and how she would react to Connor.
Mackenzie almost laughed out loud. Jenna would flip! Her smile turned down very quickly into a frown, and she wondered if she would ever see Jenna again. Would she ever be able to tell her about the hunk of a man she'd met and married in the year 1792? Would she even get the chance?
Would she see her again at all? Mackenzie got out of bed slowly and grabbed her shift. Pulling it over her head, she thought of the life waiting for her in the twenty-first century.
It seemed so distant, so far away, as if it were becoming less and less real to her. She shook her head quickly as if to shake away the realization that the fantasy had become more real than the reality. A short, hysterical laugh slipped from between her lips.
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"real" life as little as possible. But now, she wondered if she would want to return? She'd been guaranteed safe passage back by Morvern and Gregor, no matter what happened, but she didn't have the amulet anymore, and she didn't have their help anymore. She was alone. They were gone, and she was alone in 1792 Scotland. Well, she mused, not completely alone. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be stuck here in the eighteenth century. She could be with Connor; she was happy enough. But was he happy enough with her?
She hoped so. Mackenzie sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. And caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The shift was getting a little tight around her belly and breasts.
Maybe she'd gained a few pounds with the diet of cheese and bread and meat? She'd have to start jogging or something.
Mackenzie sighed again and unwillingly turned her thoughts back to her "real" life. She didn't know if Connor would want to keep her around for longer than Halloween. Hopefully, but she really wasn't sure, though. In fact she wasn't sure about much these days. She knew she loved Connor, and she knew he wanted her. She knew it wouldn't be enough for forever, but they might not have forever, so, in the here and now she fought so hard to keep herself in, it was enough. But she also needed to think farther ahead, look at the timeline. She mentally tabulated how much time had passed; almost two weeks...that only left a little over two weeks to save everyone from John Campbell's far reaching dark purposes. The two sorcerers had given her a lot of information in a short amount 275
She remembered Jenna's excitement at the first glimpse of the castle. She remembered the night before; the two had ordered room service and watched Scottish films in honor of their trip. After that, Jenna had gotten the tour schedule for the next day, and Mackenzie had arranged their ferry to the neighboring Isle of Skye. Then they had both gone to bed.
The next morning and the tour, that's where it got fuzzy.
Mackenzie remembered the first time she'd seen Connor, or rather his painting. She never heard one word the tour guide had said about him. Then she'd gone to fetch her sketch pad and a charcoal pencil. Mackenzie vaguely remembered time passing. The only real thing was hearing her name from a foreign voice. And that's where the story twisted and turned until it was unrecognizable.
Following Morvern and Gregor into the secret passageway was both the scariest and the best thing to ever happen to her. She had thought them hotel employees...how on earth had she thought that? It was so obvious that they were out of place, even in the Medieval Castle, they didn't quite fit in.
She'd felt anxious and nervous, but they'd seemed innocent enough, until she'd been dragged into the tunnel and then poof! She had been transported across time! And coming full circle, her thoughts brought her to the reason for being here, 276
She was scared of what fate had planned for her and these unknown people she was here to help. How could she be the one to do this? And what exactly was it that she could do?
She felt like she was in a movie where she had to save the world, but without anyone to guide her through this crazy mission, or whatever she was on.
Hmm...no, more like a bad
horror movie where the heroine gets herself killed doing
something stupid and predictable, like not turning all the
lights on while the audience is screaming at her the whole
time
. Mackenzie thought that there was something obvious that she was missing; the missing piece from her dreams.
Then it hit her; and she knew. In that instant, Mackenzie understood her recurring non-nightmare—-the one she'd been having since she was an adolescent. She was going to be killed. Despite that Morvern and Gregor had assured her safety, and in spite of her love for Connor, or maybe because of it? She knew she had to find her way to the Campbell's keep, and that her death would somehow stop all of the violence that he was planning.
Fate had brought her here, and she was uniformed and alone. She was going to get herself killed. Hopefully she could at least keep Connor out of all this. This evil fate was meant for her, not him. If it was a horrible, painful, awful death she was heading to, then that was her business. She knew he would never let her go alone, but she had to find a way to leave, and she had to be strong enough to leave him. She 277
From all that she had heard, the Campbell was a power-hungry man who used any and all means at his disposal to gain that power and to get what he wanted. Right now, he wanted Mackenzie. Well she would see that he got her. He wanted to use her as a sacrifice? Fine, but she would ensure that it was only she who would be sacrificed, and no one else could get hurt because of her. Perhaps if she was killed before Halloween? Would that mess up his spell? No one to sacrifice, no spell? Hmm...no she didn't believe that. She needed to live beyond Halloween, ensure that he couldn't do anything in retaliation to Connor. Well, she wasn't a virgin anymore.
Weren't sacrifices supposed to be virgins? Mackenzie groaned aloud at the overwhelming frustration that was growing inside. She was sick of being a damsel in distress. It was time she did something about it. Slowly, a couple of rough plans started to form in her ever-busy head.
There had to be a way to escape Connor. Now that he trusted her, she could take her horse and try to find her own way. And she was sure that there had to be someone here who would want her gone; who would want the danger she presented taken care of. She needed to find a way to the Campbell's lands, and then she would take her horse and leave Connor. She refused to let him know what she was 278
She would take it. But first, she needed time, of which there was not enough. And she had to remember all of the Stewart history her grandmother had told her in the form of bedtime stories as a child.
They all had begun with a hero who loved his fair maiden, but none of them ended happily. Real fairy tales didn't always have a happily ever after, isn't that what Granny had always said? Pinching the bridge of her nose, Mackenzie tried to remember. She could almost hear Granny's voice.
In a time before history was written, there was a braw and
bonny lad who loved his clan above all. This was the clan
Stewart. His father was laird, and one day he would follow his
father's path. His father allied many of the warring clans into
a time of peace. One of the alliances was to be his son, and
their most bloodthirsty enemy. Through marriage to their
enemy's daughter, their clan would finally broker the peace
the Highlands so desperately needed. And ever dutiful, the
son agreed. But one day, whilst out surveying his lands, he
met a lass who turned his heart. Och, she was fair indeed,
and the laird's son met her each day. And each day he fell
ever more in love with her, until finally, the dutiful son
refused his duty. His lover had convinced him to run away
with her. The father of his betrothed was more than angry, he
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Her thoughts were interrupted as Connor strode through the door with a large plate of fresh brown bread, cheese, and coffee.
"Good morning, Lady MacRae."
His grin was so endearing Mackenzie had to swallow before she could smile in return. Her heart still hurt from the thoughts of impending doom that she was bringing down on his family. The Campbell hadn't tried to do anything in a while, and that new worry put a crease between her brows.
And with all these awful thoughts of her death and the death 280
But she smiled back, not without effort, and she prayed her eyes didn't give away her sudden fear and hopelessness.
Mackenzie prayed that the hole threatening to open inside her heart stayed closed until she was alone and then she could fall to pieces in private. And she prayed that Connor would understand and maybe one day he could forgive her.
But first, she was going to savor the little time they did have together. And hopefully he wouldn't taste the desperation in her kisses and on her tongue.
Connor set the plate on the bed, behind her and sat down next to her.
"Is everything well? You look as if you're worrying."
Connor lightly smoothed the worry from her brow with one long finger.
Mackenzie sighed and closed her eyes, letting Connor push her anxiety away with his touch. As her lids drifted closed, a tiny smile played around the edges of her lips.
"That feels so..." she sighed again, "sweet."
His lips replaced his finger and Mackenzie could feel his breath against her face. Her head was spinning before Connor's lips found hers.
This time, their lovemaking had a frantic edge, at least on Mackenzie's side it did. She felt like she couldn't get enough of Connor, and she was certain that their time was short.
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