Highlander's Faerie (Highlander Heat #5)

Ten minutes later Katherine swung her pail in one hand as she ambled across the bailey, her gait the same as the cook’s son’s lanky stride. Across the keep near the center well, Mary and Marie walked then stopped. Mary gasped then with an anguished moan, bent over. Mary’s cry tore at her, made her want to drop her pail and run to her, but she held her place.

The guards raced toward Mary and Marie, George at the front.

The moment they passed Katherine, she dashed out the gate and raced into the forest. Her sister could be as sneaky as her, and it appeared her ancestor as well.

Once clear of the guardsmen’s sight, she followed the trail until the crashing of the ocean’s waves reached her on the breeze. Veering toward the sea, she scrambled down a stony track and onto the beach. Behind her, Dunyvaig stood like a sentinel perched on the tip of Lagavulin Bay.

Time to complete her mission. She straightened her shoulders and firmed her resolve. Ardbeg was only a few miles away. She’d get there, find a fisherman and sail to Mull.

As she trekked, seagulls circled overhead. One squawked then dove into the white-capped waves and emerged with a fish. Its catch drew the attention of the other birds and they flew after it. Past the screeching cacophony and across the waterway, Mull and her MacLean kin awaited her. Hopefully her father’s clan would embrace her and not turn her away.

Goodness. Was she truly leaving the safety of Dunyvaig for the unknown of Duart? Her step slowed as worry skittered through her. No, this was right. She had to continue on.

The sun dipped along the horizon and sent a final flare of red across the sunset sky. The wind blasted through and she shivered. Ahead, the bay curved and a stream gurgled into the sea. She clambered over the rocks, lowered herself to her knees at the brook’s edge and dipped her hands into the stream and sipped. Icy water hit her empty belly and she swayed.

“Well, well, who do we have here?” A scraggly bearded warrior stepped out of the gloominess of the tree line, his grass-stained tattered tunic smeared with blood. His gaze moved over her then to the amulet glinting at her neck. “The faerie, the one we captured and took to the Rhinns. This is a boon finding you.”

“You’re Finlay?” He looked exactly as he had in her vision.

“Aye.” His bushy brown brows drew together. “It appears you’re a clever faerie too. ’Tis no wonder my chief wanted you.”

“I might be fae, but I’m also of both clans, MacLean and MacDonald.”

“That worries me no’. Lachlan chose you as the bait to lure the MacDonalds into a battle, and so will I, except on MacLean land where we’ll have a greater fighting force.”

“I’ll never aid you in your war, not when the fae have given me the task to bring about some peace.”

“There will never be peace.” He spat on the ground. “You have the power to aid us in the return of our land, and even though Lachlan was taken by the king’s men following our battle, I willnae give up his fight. As my hostage, you’ll provide me with bargaining power I need over the MacDonalds. The Rhinns will be ours. Make no mistake about that.” He grabbed her arm and hauled her after him. Hidden within bushes at the bend in the bay, a half-beached skiff sat waiting. He tossed her into the hull, pushed the boat into the water and sprayed drops over her as he bounded in.

Even though John had searched this area and now scoured the woods for Finlay, he hadn’t changed history. Finlay had found her, and with the Isle of Mull now her destination, she didn’t put up a fight. She would arrive at Duart by Finlay’s hand, the future unchanged.



As the sun dipped along the horizon, John crouched in the forest at the base of a tree next to Archie and their men. For the past two days, they’d searched the woods within five miles of Dunyvaig.

“These are the freshest tracks we’ve come across.” Archie inspected the prints in the damp soil then stared upward. “It appears our adversary may have used the treetops to remain hidden.”

Above, a rope made of vines looped around the tree’s bow, gave evidence of that very fact. John nodded. “He slept in the bow, securing himself with the vines so as no’ to fall.”

“I’ll take a closer look.” Archie eyed Eric. “Give me a boost.”

Eric, one of their best trackers, bent and cupped his hands. He was a massive man, yet one who had the uncanny ability of slipping in and out of the smallest spaces.

Archie planted his foot in Eric’s palms and jumped as Eric heaved him upward. Archie knelt in the bow then peered across at the tree closest to him. He leaped and sailed through the air, from one tree to the next then when he could go no farther, he shimmied down the trunk and landed on the mossy ground with a soft clomp. Bending, he surveyed the area. “Here’s where the tracks begin again.”

“Damn it.” John traipsed toward his brother. “Finlay MacLean is a snake. He knew exactly how to conceal himself.”

“We’ll find him, John. He cannae evade us forever.”

“You’re damn right we’ll find—” Pain slammed through his chest and he stumbled to his knees.