Highlander's Magic (Highlander Heat #2)

“I see, then I should anticipate a visit from the king’s men myself.”


“They will come for you, mark my words.” She thrust her chin toward him. Mary had guts.

“Aye, but mayhap to Mull, Coll or Jura. They willnae think to search for me here.” He frowned then gently set his palm against her cheek. “I’m weary of fighting with you. I will return you home to your kin. ’Tis why I came for you. I should never have let you wed a MacDonald.”

“You’ve just taken me from my kin. You cannae defend your actions and spout your need to return me into the MacLean fold as your reasoning why. I know the truth, and willnae be swayed.” Tears leaked from Mary’s eyes. “I hate and despise you, Lachlan.”

“Aye, little sister, as much as you love me. I’ve no doubt of it.”

“Islay is my home. James is heir to Dunyvaig, and I cannae leave my bairns behind.”

“I’ll rescue your young ones in time.”

“They dinnae need rescuing. You’ve brought James and I right into the middle of your fight again. Dinnae you see what you’ve done? Archie willnae rest until James and I are back where we belong.” She sent a pleading look at Marie. “Nor his faerie. You must see reason.”

“I’ve always seen reason.” His gaze darkened to the deepest shade of midnight-blue. “And Islay will be returned to me.”

“So you wish to steal your nephew’s heritage?”

“Nay, I wish to see it placed in my son’s hands, as Father should have placed the Rhinns in mine. Hector is my heir and will be the fifteenth Chief of MacLean. My line shall rule Islay, no’ Angus’s.” Snarling, he leaned in. “Make no mistake, sister, I will see this done.”

“I hate you, Uncle.” James burst through and plowed into MacLean, hands smashed against the massive chief’s chest. “I hate you, just as Mother hates you.”

“James, nay.” Mary tried to pull him back.

MacLean snickered, grasped the boy and shoved him away. “Calm down, James. I only wish to see to your mother’s welfare.”

“I hate you. I hate you.” Cheeks puffed, James’s face flared red.

“Leave my son alone, Lachlan. You’ve hurt him enough.”

“Your son will be a man afore you know it, and a little pain willnae go amiss in strengthening him.”

Mary clutched James to her, holding onto him like a lifeline. She glared at MacLean. “Leave us be. Just leave us be.”

“You’ll come to understand what I’ve done, in time.” He stormed toward the front of his men. “To Loch Gruinart,” he bellowed. “Let MacDonald come for us, but we fight for Islay.”

A cheer went up and Marie wrapped her arms around Mary and James. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you both.”

“’Tis no’ your fault. Listen, both of you,” Mary whispered madly in their ears. “At the first sign of opportunity we escape, together. I willnae allow Lachlan to use us against our own clan.”

“Aye, Mother.” James nodded, his eyes narrowed. The lad would soon become a man, his childhood, though, already gone. “Say aye, Marie.”

“Yes.” She kissed his forehead. “Together. I promise we’ll escape together.”

It was the easiest promise to give. Now to see it through.



Archie tightened the birlinn’s ropes as he and his men sailed along the coast of Loch Indaal. Last eve he’d ridden with his men as far as he could through the forest then gone on foot. MacLean’s tracks had led west. The Rhinns. MacLean was making a stand, and having taken Marie, Mary and James, it was a devious one.

Half his men trailed MacLean to keep an eye on his movements while he’d returned to Dunyvaig and gathered more men. This war couldn’t be fought without his best warriors at hand.

Soon after, he’d set sail.

John captained another birlinn, their MacDonald flag raised high on both vessels as they’d searched the coastline.

MacLean wished a fight, and he had one.

Marie consumed his thoughts. He never should have allowed her out of his sight. She was his to protect, and if something happened to her because of his failing, he’d never forgive himself.

“Captain. Will stands in wait.”

On the edge of the forest the warrior in charge of the band on land, signaled to them. “To land, with speed,” Archie ordered.

They crested the incoming waves, close to shore. He heaved himself into the waist-high water. Surging through it, he slogged toward Will as his man jogged down the beach to meet him.

John too bounded from his galley and worked his way across. They met together where the waves pounded in and rolled up onto the sand.

“What news do you bring, Will?” It had better damn well be good.

“MacLean has no’ been hard to track, Captain. ’Tis clear he wishes to leave a trail toward the Rhinns.”

“What of the women and James?”