Highlander's Seduction (The Matheson Brothers #3)

She swished to the window, scrambled to find an opening but the decorative stained glass was firmly fixed in place. She spun about. There wasn’t even a fireplace that she could use to breeze up the flue. Never had she been trapped in such a way. Teeth gritted, she faced her adversary. “No one can capture or contain a time-walker, no’ even you.”


“Yet it appears as if you’re now contained.” Prowling the solar, he waved his hands through the air in search of her. “During the last Twelfth Night and Yule celebrations, I met a bard who had spent a great deal of time at the fae village. He recited an interesting tale of the time-walkers to me, then he aided me in compiling what he’d learnt from the villagers themselves.”

“Your records are inaccurate.”

“I dinnae believe so.” He rubbed his callused hands together. “Amelia is of an endless age and so too is her mate, a man who is naught but a fisherman, a man she fell in love with ten years ago then spelled to her.”

“Cherub?”

“I’m here, and I’m—”

MacKenzie lunged and she dissolved her cloaked form, swept up and floated along the low ceiling.

“—fine. Just peachy-fine, my bear. How’s your journey across the loch faring?”

“We’ve just hit the mist shrouding the MacKenzie’s lair.”

“You cannae escape me now, princess.” The chief shoved the tall polished chest in front of the decorative window and blocked the meager light filtering in from it. A shuffle and scrape sounded in the near dark then a candle flickered to life on the corner of his desk. He tucked his dirk and flint away then swept the candle around the solar as he scoured the room for her.

“Cherub, why can I sense fear ricocheting down our link from you?”

“’Tis good to know the mist remains thick. Dinnae let any of the guards see you scale the curtain wall. That is the only way in since this castle is built on a rock a hundred feet from the shore. There are most certainly men positioned on the battlements on the northern side. Please take care as you wander around and about.”

“You’re actually encouraging me to storm the castle?” His confusion swarmed through her then his worry roared to life. “What the hell is going on? Tell me you’re all right.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m in a spot of trouble.”

“I’m coming. Hold tight.”



Cherub’s words reverberated through Kirk’s mind and made his heart lose one very necessary beat. Through the cloying mist, he eyed his brothers. “Cherub’s in trouble.”

“What’s happened?” Iain lowered the skiff’s limp sail, the steady wind that had brought them across the channel having died away as they’d neared the calmer waters surrounding the MacKenzie’s keep.

“MacKenzie is after eternal life, except Cherub can only bind her mate’s soul to hers and that of any children she conceives.” He nabbed the oars, sat on the center bench seat and rowed. Finlay grabbed a second set of oars and rowed from the seat behind him.

“Hell, he’s a nasty piece of work.” Iain spat the words out as he gripped the rudder and searched through the gray haze to keep them on course. The curtain wall appeared out of the soupy gloom, just twenty feet ahead.

“She said there are guards on the northern side.” Kirk stowed his oars and as the hull scraped the ground underneath the water, he bounded out onto the sliver of stony land encircling the keep. With his hands fisted on his hips, he took in the massive stone wall that rose into the fog high above.

Iain secured their skiff to a boulder and patted the wall. “It’s slick with moisture but there appear to be plenty of hand and foot holds. We’ll be able to scale this.”

“Who’s going first?” Finlay tucked his loose blue shirttail into his black pants, his ever-present sword at his side as he moved in next to them.

“Not Iain, not when he goes regimental in a kilt.” Kirk grasped the wall and swung up, his booted feet wedged in the footholds. Getting to Cherub as quickly as possible, drove him forward.

“Hey, Isla never complains about me going regimental.” Iain gripped the grooves and climbed up in his wake.

“Flipping, flapping kilt.” Finlay groaned and clambered up after them. “I should have moved faster. The mist is not thick enough to cover your unmentionables, Iain, which are just about right in my face.”

Iain chuckled. “You’re just jealous.”

“You wish,” Finlay shot back at him. “By chance did you tell Isla what you’re up to right now? Because I bet those unmentionables of yours won’t get some use for some time if you didn’t.”

“Ha. If I told her where I was or what I’m doing, she’d be out the door, on a skiff and over here in less than a second. There is no halting a compeller from joining a battle when it looms.” Iain grunted as he climbed. “What she doesn’t know, can’t hurt her. Or at least that’s what I’m hoping.”