Shay knelt and checked his pulse. “He’s breathing. Jamie? Can you hear me? Help me turn him over.” He groaned as they rolled him. “There’s a phone in the kitchen. Call 911.” Shay cradled his head. He had a knot on his forehead and a large gash on his arm.
“No hospital,” he said, voice uneven.
“You need a doctor.”
“No,” Jamie mumbled. “No doctor.”
“He sounds like Faelan,” Bree said.
“Where does it hurt?” Shay asked Jamie, but he closed his eyes again. She checked him over, hands prodding body parts she once touched in other ways. “I think his head and arms took the worst of it. Let’s get him to the couch. You get his feet.”
Bree eyed Jamie’s six-foot, two-inch muscular frame and touched her stomach. “He looks heavy.”
“He is,” Shay said, remembering exactly how heavy he was.
Bree grabbed his feet while Shay put her hands under his shoulders and pulled. “Lord, what’s he made of?” Bree grunted.
“I think we’re doing more damage than good,” Shay said. They were both panting, smeared with blood, and still hadn’t lifted him onto the couch.
“I’ll get a washcloth,” Bree said.
“There’s some in the hall closet, and get some ice from the kitchen.”
Before Bree could leave, Jamie opened his eyes and groaned.
“What happened?” Shay asked.
He touched her face. “You’re safe. I was afraid you’d get here before they left. Who’s she?”
“My friend, Bree. What happened to you?” Shay asked.
“There were four of them.” He groaned and sat up. “Felt like twice that. Didn’t even hear them come in.”
“Sit still,” Shay said. “You could have other injuries.”
“I’m fine,” he said, flexing his arms. “Just banged up.”
Shay looked at his wound. “Your cut doesn’t look nearly as bad as it did a minute ago.”
“Uh… I need a bandage,” he said, grimacing as he quickly stood.
“I’ll get it,” Bree offered.
“No. You two check out the table,” Jamie said, holding his hand over the cut. “They seemed more interested in it than me.”
“The table? Are you serious? You could’ve been killed,” Shay said.
“I’ll be back as soon as I wash off this blood.” He walked toward the bathroom. Shay and Bree examined the table while they waited for him.
“What is it with these tables?” Shay asked.
“It’s pretty,” Bree said, touching the top.
“But not that valuable. It’s only 1890s… Bree, are you okay?”
“That’s better,” Jamie said, entering the room. He had washed off the blood, put on a clean shirt, and bandaged his arm.
“You scared the heck out of me.” Shay wrapped her arms around his waist, and he pulled her close, dropping a kiss on her head.
“What the hell?” said a voice from the doorway.
Shay and Jamie turned. Cody stood just inside the door, his face drained of color. A flush of anger crept up his neck. “Jamie Waters? He’s your boyfriend?”
Shay stepped away from Jamie. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Cody stormed across the room. “You know the rules. Does the clan know about this?”
“The clan?” Shay asked. “Jamie knows about your clan?”
“You didn’t tell her, did you? You bastard!” Cody threw the first punch. It hit Jamie’s chin, and he staggered.
“Stop it! He’s hurt,” Shay yelled.
Jamie returned the swing, catching Cody in the jaw.
Shay jumped between them, and they both drew up short, glaring at each other over her head. “What’s going on?”
“Ask your boyfriend about his talisman.”
“Talisman?” She looked at Jamie. Guilt was written on his face. Her gaze fell to the necklace he never took off, not even in bed. He’d said it was a family heirloom. It resembled Cody’s. And Marcas’s. And Lachlan’s. “No,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, Shay,” Jamie said. “I didn’t intend—”
“You’re one of them?” She backed away until she hit something solid. Strong hands gripped her shoulders. Shay turned, her eyes level with Faelan’s necklace—talisman—outlined beneath his shirt.
“You’re bleeding. Where’s Bree?” He followed Shay’s gaze to where Bree stood by the overturned table, bloody hands extended over it, a blank look in her eyes, while Cody and Jamie hurled insults like knives.
“Be quiet,” Faelan told them. He hurried to her side. “She’s having a vision.”
Bree ran her hands down the front of the table, reached underneath, and a drawer popped out. A piece of paper lay inside.
“I didn’t know it did that,” Shay said.
Bree snapped out of her vision as Faelan reached for the paper. “The Book of Battles.” His voice was grainy, like it was made of sand. “It’s the last page from the Book of Battles.”
“What’s a Book of Battles?” Shay asked, alarmed at the stricken looks on the faces around her, even Jamie’s. She was the outsider again.
“You think the book was in there?” Jamie asked.
“You’re the one with the table. Why don’t you tell us?” Cody said.
“Go to hell, MacBain.”
“You were sent to protect her,” Cody growled. “Not sleep with her.”
“You were sent to protect me?” Shay shook her head in disbelief.
“I’m sorry, Shay. Marcas and Lachlan asked me to keep an eye on you. I didn’t mean to—”
Cody stepped in front of Jamie. Shay slipped from the room while they circled each other like predators.
Shay dug for her keys as she hurried to her car, but they weren’t in her pocket. She must have dropped them when she and Bree moved Jamie. She wasn’t going back in there. She looked inside Cody’s truck. His keys were in the ignition. He could drive her car or stay with Jamie. As far as she was concerned, Cody and Jamie could both rot in hell.
Bree ran out as Shay opened Cody’s truck door. “Where are you going?”
“I need to get away from here.”
“You can’t go alone. It’s too dangerous.” A roar erupted from inside the house. “Heck. I’m coming with you.” Bree opened the passenger door and slid in. “Let them fight it out.”
***
The servant parked down the street, watching the house through binoculars. It was the ex-boyfriend’s house. What was she doing there? Reconciling? A truck pulled into the driveway, and two men got out. The warrior who was always with her, the one the master said she had to stay away from, and the man in the kilt. He was tired of all these men hovering. It was impossible to get near her. Her house was like a damned hotel. Was she sleeping with one—or all—of them?
The rage built inside him, growing until he thought it might burn him alive. He pulled out his knife, put it to his arm, and stopped. He’d cut something, all right. The master said it was crucial that they not have children. He couldn’t kill her yet, even if the master wanted him too, but he could get rid of the warrior. The master would like that.
After the men entered the house, he pulled closer and parked his car behind a thick maple covered with red leaves. He glanced at the house. All clear. He approached the man’s truck and lay down beside the wheel, holding his knife and an empty 7-11 coffee cup. It didn’t take long.
Hurrying back to his car, he moved out of sight and wiped the fluid from his knife blade with a dirty handkerchief. He heard an engine start, and the warrior’s truck backed out of the driveway. It wouldn’t be long. As the truck sped by his hiding place, he saw Shay in the driver’s seat.
“No!” he screamed.
***
“Get your hands off me—” Jamie said, bristling.
“Shut up! Both of you,” Faelan shouted, pulling Jamie and Cody apart. “Where’s Bree and Shay?”
An engine roared to life. “That’s my truck,” Cody said. “Damn it, that’s my truck!” They sprinted outside in time to see the Toyota pull away with Shay and Bree inside. “Stop!”
The truck kept going, spitting dirt and gravel. Cody ran to Shay’s rental car and yanked open the door. “No keys.”
“We can take my truck.” Jamie ran into the house and returned with keys to his grandfather’s faded green Chevy. Faelan shoved Cody in the middle and climbed in beside him. The old engine thundered and grumbled. Jamie threw it in drive and pulled onto the road. The men bounced along, jammed shoulder to shoulder, as the truck whined and climbed the winding mountain road.
“If you two weren’t fighting, they wouldn’t have run off,” Faelan said.
Cody didn’t know Jamie as well as his brothers did, but he always considered him a friend. A few weeks ago, Marcas told Cody they’d had Jamie keeping an eye on Shay for the past several months, since he lived in Scotland, not far from Shay. They hadn’t bothered to tell him Jamie was her bloody boyfriend. Cody had gone to Scotland to find her as soon as his duty was over. He’d felt as nervous and excited as a teenager… until he saw the ring on her hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged to her when I saw you in Scotland?” Cody asked Jamie. He’d sat next to Jamie at the castle, never dreaming it was his ring Cody had seen on Shay’s finger.
“Marcas told me to keep my mouth shut. And Shay and I weren’t together then anyway,” Jamie said, his voice tight.
They reached the top of the mountain, nearing the entrance to Skyline Drive. “Any idea which road they took?” Faelan asked.
“Call them,” Jamie said.
Cody and Faelan looked at each other. “My phone’s in the truck,” Cody said.
“Mine too. Use yours,” Faelan said to Jamie.
Jamie grimaced. “It’s in the house.”
“Shay’ll take Skyline Drive,” Cody said. “She likes the scenery.”
“I know that,” Jamie said.
“I see them. Won’t this thing go faster?” Faelan grumbled as they turned onto the scenic mountaintop road. He shifted, knocking Cody in the ribs, and peered out the window. “Nandor was quicker than this.”
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