Highlander's Seduction (The Matheson Brothers #3)

The warrior slumped head first into the waves.

“Damn it.” Sheesh, he didn’t have time for a drowning either. He clutched the warrior by the back of his cotun, hauled him up onto the beach and dumped him on the sand. “You can thank me for saving your butt later.”

A pretty trill sounded. Iain’s warning.

With his sword in hand, Kirk dashed back into the trees.

A fierce battle cry rang out and he picked up his pace.

The hefty sound of steel clashing reverberated through the forest. Ahead on the trail, his brothers stood back to back with four MacKenzies battling them. Not the best of odds, or odds he’d allow to remain in place.

He bounded into the fray and whipped his blade into one of the warrior’s sides.

Grunting, the warrior fell back a step. He grasped his side and eyed the long slice in his steel-studded war coat, a cut that hadn’t quite drawn blood. Snarling, he eyed Kirk. “You, I will gladly kill.”

“Death isn’t on my agenda for the day, but a good fight is.” He thrust his sword high and blocked the MacKenzie’s swift blow. “Where’s Joseph?” he called to Iain.

“I tossed him into a tree.” Iain slammed his blade down on the MacKenzie he fought, metal clanging. “Glad you could join us.”

“You don’t get to have all of the fun, all of the time.” He ducked his opponent’s next blow then kicked the man’s leg out from under him. He went down and knocked his head on a protruding rock. Skin split and blood gushed. Ouch. That had to have hurt.

He checked the warrior’s breathing then assured he lived, tore a strip from his bottom of the man’s plaid, wrapped it around his head and knotted it to help stem the blood flow.

“Kirk!” Finlay caught his adversary’s blow then bounded out of reach of the second’s swipe. “Would you cease saving the enemy and come over here and help me.”

“On my way.” Battling, he thrived on, but taking a man’s life, he didn’t. If there was no need to kill, he didn’t. With his sword in hand, he jumped the low brush and came in beside Finlay. “What’s taking you so long in bringing these two down?”

“They’re incredibly persistent, and keep your eyes on the fight.” Finlay twirled his blade as he advanced on the warrior closest to him.

The MacKenzie snarled at Finlay. “I’m no’ leaving here without the boy, so you’d best get out of my way.”

“He’s an innocent child, and you’re not taking him anywhere.” Finlay met the MacKenzie’s fierce strike and they battled, hard and fast.

With both his brothers at his back, Kirk fought. Sweat poured from his body while high in the canopy above, Cherub’s presence and the need to get her and Joseph back to safety, rode him hard. This fight needed to end, now.

The warrior he battled swung and Kirk rocked back on his heels, barely missing the man’s deadly strike. They were a blood-thirsty lot, their intention to fight to the death clear to see.

“Kirk!” Cherub cried out his name then shimmered into sight behind the warrior and swung a tree limb at him. It grazed the man’s side and he snapped around and bounded toward her, his blade whizzing through the air as she disappeared in a blink.

Battle lust roared through Kirk and he attacked. No one would harm his woman and get away with it. He struck the warrior with one deadly blow after another until he swayed backward then with one swift shove, Kirk sent the MacKenzie toppling into a massive thorny bush.

The warrior yelped, tried to roll free but only sank deeper into the barbed scrub.

Cherub reappeared and dropped a rock on the man’s head. He slumped, arms limp and his sword sliding free from his drooping fingers. She rushed into his arms, her hands sweeping over him. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, and you were supposed to stay put in that tree.” Within the bow of the closest one, a wide-eyed boy with dirt-smeared cheeks and rumpled brown hair, shivered. “You must be Joseph. Are you hurt at all?”

“Nay, sir.” The lad clutched ahold of the trunk.

“Prepare to die!” The MacKenzie fighting Iain lunged at him and Iain struck, pushed him back into the trunk and speared the man’s arm to the tree.

Finlay knocked his opponent onto his knees, their two blades crashing a mere breath from the MacKenzie’s nose. “Concede to your defeat,” Finlay barked as he loomed over the man. “Or die if you don’t.”

“Who are ye?” The MacKenzie heaved in a deep breath, his arms shaking as he tried to keep Finlay’s blade from slicing into him.

“We’re the ‘power of three.’” Finlay shoved his blade down harder, right against the warrior’s throat. “And I want you to return to your chief and ensure he knows we stand by Gilleoin’s side. We’ll never allow you to harm one of our kin, or trespass on our land again. Do you hear me?”

“Aye. I concede.” The warrior slowly lowered his blade then dropped it.