J essa slowly backed up as Grant walked the enormous reddish brown horse with the white, hairy feet toward her. “Are there not any smaller ones?”
He rumbled with a low chuckle, then motioned for her to come closer. “Jock here is a fine lad with infinite patience. His temper is so even that all the bairns love him. He is perfect for yer first time on a horse.”
Emily walked up and gave her a playful nudge. “If I can do it, you can do it, and you promised to join me on the trip back to Seven Cairns so we can have that last little bit of extra time together before I return to the future. That’s why I told Mairwen to let us travel the mortal way, rather than the Weaver way.”
“But that is not a normal-sized horse.” When Grant had agreed they would escort Mairwen and Emily back to Seven Cairns the old fashioned mortal way, she had envisioned an animal like the ones she’d seen on television. This one looked bigger than those Clydesdales from the beer commercial. “He is the size of an elephant.”
“It would be wise for ye to learn to ride, lass,” Mairwen said as she joined them, her own mount docile as a lamb, following along behind her. “Besides, ye love animals. Horses can sense such things and will take good care of ye.”
“Ye dinna wish to hurt old Jock’s feelings, now do ye?” Grant patted the horse, then motioned her closer still. “Come. Introduce yerself to him. We’re losing daylight and need to ride while the weather is fair.”
He had a point about not riding in the rain, but it also made her wonder if horses hydroplaned on wet grass like her car had on wet pavement. But then again, she supposed that was a tire tread thing. Jock’s feet looked pretty big and sturdy.
She eased closer to the monstrous beast and hesitantly held out her knuckles so the horse could take a sniff. The stiff whiskers on his velvety nose tickled across the back of her hand and made her giggle.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jock.” She scratched his muzzle and then on up to the white blaze on his forehead. “I’ve never even sat on a horse. Be patient with me. Okay?”
He made a deep grumbling sound, not an angry one, but more like the fussing of a harmless old man, then nudged her with his head as if urging her to mount up.
“I thought you said he was patient?” she asked Grant.
Before she realized what was happening, he swept her up onto the horse’s back and steadied her in the saddle. “He is like me,” he said with a wink. “Patient up to a point.”
She made the mistake of looking down. “Holy crap. If I fall off, I’ll break my neck.”
“Then dinna fall off.” Grant launched himself up behind her, curled an arm around her waist, and settled her back against him. “I decided yer first time riding alone should nay be the trip to Seven Cairns. Parts of the land would challenge ye.”
“As long as those parts don’t challenge you, I’m good with that.” She hugged the arm he held around her, feeling a great deal better about this adventure already. The distinct sound of snickering made her turn and point at Emily. “Not a word. You know I’ve never been athletic. You were made to ride with those long legs of yours. I’m like an ant trying to straddle a cow.”
Grant’s poorly suppressed amusement vibrated against her back, making her elbow him. “You better remember whose side you’re on.”
He nuzzled a kiss to the curve of her neck, triggering a series of delicious ripples through her.
“That is not fair. You know I can’t be stern when you do that.”
“I know, love. Why do ye think I do it?”
Before she could comment, the horse took off, settling into a steady trot.
“Pull yer claws back in, lass. I’ll not let ye fall.”
Without realizing it, she had clutched Grant’s arm so tightly that her fingernails dug into him. She rubbed at the bloody little half moons along his arm. “Sorry! I’ll try to relax.”
“Feel the sway of the beast and listen to the creak of the leather.” Grant kissed her neck again and hugged her tighter. “Once ye set into the rhythm of the ride, ye will be fine. Just ye wait and see.”
She withheld judgment on that until they were deeper into the journey.
Jessa noticed the formation they easily fell into as their group exited the gate. She and Grant, with Mairwen riding alongside them, were at the back while Emily took the lead, and Henry and Lachie rode on either side of her. The men tossed conversation back and forth to each other, and Emily joined their banter. The sight both pleased and saddened Jessa. Even with the promise of occasionally visiting with Emily at Seven Cairns, it wouldn’t be the same as being able to talk or text her best friend any time she wanted. But watching them, she noticed something. Henry and Lachie were competing for Emily’s attention.
“They like her,” she said, probably louder than she should have.
“Aye, they do.” He shifted against her, huffing a deep sigh.
“What? What am I missing?”
“Her fated mate is not in this time,” Mairwen said, inserting herself into the conversation. “I have seen it, and so has Ishbel.” She shot a pointed look at Jessa. “Do ye not wish yer Emily to know the same contentment ye found with yer husband?”
“Well, yes, that goes without saying.” But Jessa acknowledged and fully owned her selfish side. “I just thought it would have been nice if one of them was her fated mate. Then I wouldn’t lose her.”
“Ye’re nay losing her, love,” Grant gently reminded. “The two of ye will always have Seven Cairns as common ground, remember? A rare gift from the goddesses.”
“Why aren’t more fated mates offered that gift?” Jessa fixed Mairwen with a pointed look of her own. “You said Emily and I were allowed that because of our sisterly love. We can’t be the only pair of friends or relatives separated by a rogue mate bond from a different century. Wouldn’t it help the Highland Veil if more were given the same opportunity of meeting at Seven Cairns?”
From her pale, almost silvery horse that came amazingly close to matching the shade of her hair, Mairwen stared back at Jessa as if she had never seen her before. “Unlimited access to Seven Cairns? A meeting place for those separated by the planes of time and reality?”
“Wouldn’t that make your job easier?” Jessa shifted in the saddle and adjusted an uncomfortable wad of petticoat that had wedged against her right hip and was rubbing it raw. “And can I have my leggings back for when I ride?”
“No,” Grant said before Mairwen could answer. “I dinna ken what leggings from yer time might look like, but I know well enough what the ones from now show, and I will not have ye wearing them. Perhaps Mrs. Robeson and Molly can help ye design a modest yet comfortable skirt for whenever ye ride.”
“As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted by male insecurity,” Jessa said to Mairwen, “wouldn’t everyone being allowed to meet at Seven Cairns make your job easier?”
“What are we talking about?” Emily asked as she rounded back and brought her mount up alongside them on the other side.
“All fated mates being allowed to meet with their closest friends and family at Seven Cairns,” Jessa told her.
“That would risk revealing the true nature of Seven Cairns.” Mairwen slowly shook her head. “Discretion and secrecy are some of our greatest protections.”
“Well, how have you been explaining when people disappear?” Jessa couldn’t believe that Scotland Yard or Interpol or whoever ruled that part of the world hadn’t picked Seven Cairns to pieces because of missing persons’ cases.
Mairwen shrugged. “We make them forget.”
“You make who forget what?” Emily asked.
“The families and friends looking for their loved ones are made to forget they exist.”
“That’s terrible.” Jessa looked at Emily for support on this. Her friend nodded in agreement. “It’s cold-hearted, selfish, and uncaring. Do you make the fated mates forget, too?”
“At times. It depends on the situation. The good of the all is far more important than the good of the one.” Mairwen’s tone had become snappish and defensive.
“Then why didn’t you do that with me and Emily? Make us forget each other?” Jessa wished their horses were close enough so she could reach over and shake that old woman. While she now fully understood the importance of stopping the Morrigan and those who fought with her, that didn’t excuse what Mairwen had just confessed that she and the Weavers did with people’s minds.
“The two of ye were…are…different.” Mairwen frowned as she stared off into the distance, idly fidgeting with the reins that appeared to be useless because the horse knew where to go. She slowly shook her head. “Ishbel noticed yer gifts right away.” A faint smile danced across her pale pink mouth. “Then I sensed Emily’s Weaver blood. The two of ye possess an ancient greatness, and ye dinna even realize it. I am not so certain we possessed the power to erase yer memories.”
Grant’s arm tightened around Jessa’s middle and hugged her closer. “And ye’re mine. Daren’t ye ever forget that.”
“I would never forget that.” She patted his arm but was determined to convince Mairwen that wiping people’s memories was wrong. “When you make a person forget, you realize you’re changing who they are?”
“How so?” Mairwen tossed her head, obviously ready to be done with that subject.
“Our memories, the way we process them and either learn from them or learn how to escape them, make us who we are. Erasing those memories takes that way. While I have a lot of memories I’d like to forget, I can’t deny that I learned things from them. Some of what I learned wasn’t pleasant, but I learned it just the same and use it like backfill to keep my foundation solid, keep me aware of just how far I’ve come, and all I have survived.”
Mairwen snorted. “I have seen memories cripple some. Many a mortal has thanked me for freeing them from their past’s prison.”
Henry and Lachie halted their mounts and drew their weapons.
Grant drew his sword—the mighty Caladbolg already hummed and shone with a blue-white glow.
“What do they see?” Jessa scrubbed her arms. Every hair stood on end, and a nauseatingly familiar eeriness washed across her. “She’s here. I thought she told you she was going to leave us alone?”
“Not in so many words,” Grant said quietly. “It was more implied than stated.”
“Lovely.” Jessa motioned at Emily. “Get behind us. I don’t know if it will help or not, but it can’t hurt, and she’s sure to go for you next.”
“But I don’t see anything,” Emily argued. “There is nothing up ahead.”
“Yes, there is,” Jessa told her without shifting her gaze from a point up ahead that shimmered as though extreme heat rose from the ground. “Get behind us, Em. Please?” Morrigan might go after Emily next since she had yet to find and connect with her fated mate.
A raven appeared in the middle of the path at the base of the shimmering heat waves. It shape-shifted into a wolf, then changed again into an all too familiar cloaked figure. Morrigan lifted her bony hand and clicked her long, lethal black nails. “ Induciae. I would speak with Mairwen and Grant’s mate. Alone.”
“My name is Jessa , and what does induciae mean?”
“Suspension of hostilities.” Morrigan pushed back her hood, revealing her form of the armored warrioress who was almost too beautiful to look upon. She bowed her sleek head, making the ebony gemstone in her silver circlet glint in the sunlight. “And forgive me, Jessa .”
“When ye speak to one of us, ye speak to us all,” Grant said.
Morrigan twitched a shrug, then shifted her gaze to Mairwen. “Is that what ye wish, sister?”
“Sister?” Jessa repeated in a squeaking whisper. Why had Mairwen not told them that little tidbit of information?
Grant gave her a subtle squeeze meant to make her be quiet.
Mairwen drew herself up, sitting taller in the saddle. She gave the barest dip of her chin. “Say what ye will, Morrigan.”
“Our sons are dead.”
Mairwen’s hands tightened on the reins, and her horse shifted from side to side, displaying the agitation of its rider. “That is not possible. Bride and Cerridwen promised—as did the ancient one, the mighty Danu.”
Morrigan’s pained scowl almost softened as she lowered her gaze. “Carman’s sons destroyed Valor and Valan’s vaults in a bid for power. They scattered the crystal shards across eternity.”
“The jars,” Mairwen said, her voice ragged. “The jars housing their essence crystals?”
“That is why I am here.”
When Morrigan’s focus slid to her, Jessa instinctively backed up against Grant’s chest. “What?”
“Ye dinna realize it yet because mortals are oblivious to such things until their bodies bellow with the proof of it, but ye carry twin sons in yer womb. Mine and Mairwen’s sons. The sons fathered by Lùnastal when he could not choose between Mairwen and me.”
Jessa swallowed hard, struggling to wrap her mind around what the dark one had just shared. “If I am pregnant—and that is very big if—then I’m barely pregnant and Grant’s the father. Not someone named Lùnastal.”
“There is no such thing as barely pregnant,” the Morrigan said. “Did you not once utter those exact words to an acquaintance? Either ye are with child or ye are not. And ye are. Two of them, as a matter of fact.”
“How do you know what I’ve uttered to anyone?” Jessa asked, trying to ignore Grant’s ever-tightening embrace. His excitement at the prospect of fatherhood pulsed through her. “And like I said, Grant would be the father.”
“Aye, Grant is the father of the wee bairns,” Mairwen said, “but their souls—” She bowed her head and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling with her grief. “The goddesses promised. How could they let this happen to my son?”
“When I opened their jars,” Morrigan told Mairwen, “their essence crystals were gone. The ancient one granted me a rare audience because she felt my sorrow as a mother. She assured me they had kept their promise that our sons would not die for their mistakes—” She drew in a deep breath and lifted her chin higher, then shifted her focus back to Jessa. “After Dub, Dother, and Dain razed the crystal vaults, the mighty Danu, Bride, and Cerridwen gathered what was left of Valor and Valan’s souls and intertwined them with Jessa’s children.”
“Intertwined?” Jessa repeated. “My babies aren’t even born yet, and you’re telling me they’re going to have multiple personality problems?”
Morrigan frowned, visibly confused. “No. They will merely grow to be extraordinary males, powerful, and possess the same lifespan as Mairwen and I, rather than you weak, insignificant mortals.”
“You’re not getting them,” Jessa said, already seeing where this was going. She shook her head at Mairwen too. “These babies are mine, and no one is taking them away.”
The Morrigan smiled, sending a chill through Jessa that made her shudder. “I am glad ye will keep them safe. Once I bring down the Veil, I will come for them.”
“The Veil will remain strong,” Mairwen said, her voice like thunder, “and once the goddesses allow, I will come for my Lùnastal. We all know ye assumed my form when ye seduced him.” She jutted her chin higher, her face wet with the tears of her loss. “He does still live, aye?”
“Aye,” the Morrigan said. “ My beloved still lives. Angry and handsome as ever in his crystal cell. Even Carman’s wicked sons are not so foolhardy as to meddle with the god of light while he repents in the mighty Danu’s prison.”
Jessa fisted her hands to keep from digging her nails into Grant’s arm again. Here she was, caught in the middle of a love triangle of immortals, and if there was one thing she despised, it was being manipulated for someone else’s gain. She had spent her formative years enduring that despicable abuse. She’d be damned if she went through it again.
“I am not a pawn in your stupid little games,” she said, bouncing in the saddle to get the horse to step forward and take a more dominant stance. “Or at least I am finished being a pawn in your selfish games.” She laid her hand on Grant’s, taking hold of the sword that had banished the darkness when she needed it most. As soon as she touched its haft, the blade’s light became blinding and shot a powerful beam of pure white brightness into the heavens and held it. “You will stay away from me and mine—and that includes Emily and the mate she has yet to claim. I might be mortal, but I will fight like hell for those I love. My children will never know you.” She turned and glared at Mairwen. “Either of you. Keep me and mine out of your petty fight over some stupid man with fidelity issues. I can get behind protecting the Highland Veil because of what I have seen so far. But I will be damned if I get caught up in two jealous women fighting over a man who apparently thinks with nothing but his cock.”
“Ye dinna understand,” Mairwen said. “Ye?—”
“I don’t have to understand!” Jessa gripped the sword tightly, increasing the strength of its light. “You have lied to me. Repeatedly. You mishandled and manipulated me. You and your Weavers need to do better, Mairwen. Bringing fated mates together should be an honorable act both for them and for the protection of the Veil. It should not be one of kidnapping and treachery.”
Morrigan tossed her head back and laughed. “Yer pet has grown claws, sister! See what happens when ye dinna properly train them?”
Jessa aimed the sword’s arc light at the snarky goddess, trying to slice her in two.
The Morrigan exploded into a cloud of ravens, then morphed back into her warrioress form. She shook a cautionary finger at Jessa. “Careful, little one. Ye canna defeat me. Not even with the Elven sword.” She sauntered back and forth in front of them, as if walking some sort of invisible line. “I came here to tell ye of the sons ye carry.” She tossed a nod at Grant. “I already gave yer mate my word that I would not trouble the MacAlesters again—the bairns merely strengthen my oath.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I mean to take down the Highland Veil and rule over the chaos with Lùnastal at my side.” She angled a dark look at Mairwen. “He chose me afore Danu imprisoned him. Ye know that as well as I.”
Mairwen sat taller in the saddle and remained silent.
Sympathy for Mairwen twitched at Jessa’s heart and made her a little more forgiving of the manipulative woman. A little. Mairwen needed to work on her method of uniting fated mates. But poor Mairwen had been wronged. Possibly by her fated mate, definitely by her sister , and yet she still fought for the greater good of the Veil. That, in and of itself, convinced Jessa that she and Grant were on the right side of things.
“You have said your piece,” Jessa said. “If that’s all, go.”
Morrigan went still, eyeing her with an unreadable expression. The longer she stared at her, the harder Jessa fought to stare right back at her without blinking.
“One more thing,” the dark one finally said, her voice returning to its dangerous, purring tone. The faintest smile, an evil smirk, tugged at the corner of her mouth as she nodded at Emily. “I am not the only one trying to destroy the Veil and rule chaos. The light has many enemies other than my particular form of darkness.” Once again, she burst into a swirling mass of screeching ebony birds and disappeared into the clouds.
“What did she mean by that?” Emily asked, drawing her mount closer to Jessa and Grant.
Jessa turned to Mairwen. “What did she mean?”
“The Veil has many enemies, and we must remain vigilant even though here, at this point in history, and this place in Scotland, Morrigan has agreed to honor the rules governing warfare on holy ground. Much as she does at Seven Cairns. But that does not mean others will do so. We must watch for the others.”
“Who are the others ?” Jessa asked.
Mairwen released a heavy sigh and suddenly looked much older than she ever had before. “Too many to name, child.” She nudged her horse into motion. “Come. It is past time that Emily and I returned to the Seven Cairns of the future.”
Henry and Lachie glanced back at them, then moved as one to flank Mairwen on the path.
“Are you all right?” Emily asked Jessa.
“Lots to process.” And that was the biggest understatement she had ever made in her life.
“I am going on ahead.” Emily tipped a thoughtful nod at Mairwen’s retreating figure. “I’m sure you two have a lot to discuss. We’ll have our time before I pass through the curtain.”
Jessa had no idea what curtain Emily was talking about, but was certain she would eventually find out. After all, Seven Cairns was her way station, her connection to the life she had left behind. Who would have thought she’d be sitting on a monstrosity of a horse in the eighteenth century with a man she couldn’t imagine living without?
“Jessa?”
“Can we get down and walk a while? I need to see your eyes when we have this conversation.”
Without a word, Grant slid to the ground, then gently took her by the waist and set her down in front of him. “Tell me yer thoughts, m’love,” he said quietly, his tone deep and worry in his eyes. “I would know them. Good or bad.”
Instead of walking as she had requested, she hugged him close and rested her head on his chest. “Have you ever seen a tangled knot of yarn made up of a bunch of different colored strands?”
“Aye.” He tenderly stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.
“Those are my thoughts.”
“What is in yer heart, then?” His arms tightened around her.
“Love for you. Worry. Fear. Protectiveness. Dread.”
“Worry, fear, and dread?” He kissed the top of her head again, gently swaying as though soothing a crying child. “Give those to me, m’love. Allow me to slay those beasts for ye because they canna withstand me.”
“Those goddesses had no right to mess with our children just because of some promise they made to Mairwen.” Still unable to believe she was really pregnant, the thought of anyone taking advantage of an innocent for any reason absolutely infuriated her. “They had no right.”
Grant tipped up her chin and smiled down at her. “We will love and protect our bairns. Prepare them to face any obstacle and nurture them with kith and kin. Those goddesses underestimate the stubbornness and strength of MacAlester blood.”
“I cannot believe I’m pregnant.” She flinched at her unrealistic whininess. Of course, she could be pregnant. It only takes one time of unprotected sex, and they’d been going at it like rabbits whenever they weren’t teetering on the brink of death. “I never thought about becoming a mother. I’m not so sure I’ll know how.”
“With every bairn and every mother being different, I’m not so sure anyone is an expert on wee ones. Some just have more experience than most. The women of the keep will help ye any way they can. As will I.”
“What do you know about babies?” She couldn’t wait to hear what an eighteenth century Highland smuggler laird had to say on that subject.
“When they cry, ye do yer best to figure out if they’re hungry, soiled, or just after a good cuddle.” He twitched a quick shrug. “I remember my mam with my brother. Whenever he cried, she patted his wee arse until he passed a good bit of wind to make his belly feel better.”
Grant had never spoken about a brother before. She almost hated to pry. “What happened to him?”
After a long look upward, as though seeking the right words from the heavens, Grant gave a sad shake of his head. “With so little to eat that winter and all of us weak from nothing more than a bit of parritch each day, he and Mam took ill. Da, the laird, did as well. The fever took them all ’cept for me. Henry’s family took me in. Lachie’s family shared what little they had, too.” He stared off into the distance, his jaw flexing. “I was their only hope for leading the clan someday, so they often went without to feed me first.”
Jessa swallowed hard and blinked fast, trying not to cry. “I am so sorry.” The tears overflowed. She couldn’t help it. He had been through so much. Suffered so much loss.
He drew her close again and held her. “It was a long time ago, lass,” he said quietly, “and they’re with me still. I carry everyone I have ever loved in my memories and my heart.”
“I’m afraid, Grant,” she whispered, trying to sort her churning mess of emotions into neat little boxes that she could label and store away for when she felt like dealing with them.
He tipped her face to his again. “What do ye fear, m’love?”
She stared up at him, despondent yet finding comfort in losing herself in his gaze. “Everything. Bringing babies into this cruel world. Those others Mairwen hinted at. Being a decent mother. I’m worried about every freaking thing under the sun, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
“There is where ye are wrong, my own.”
“What?”
“Ye can love me. Know that I will always do my damnedest to protect ye. Cherish every precious moment we are given in this life. Dinna let the dark ones steal yer joy, for when ye do, they also steal yer light. Nothing in this life is guaranteed, no matter the time in which ye live. If ye live yer life in fear, ye dinna live it at all.”
He was so right—and wise, but she wasn’t all that sure she should tell him. After all, he was pretty smug as it was. “If Mairwen and Morrigan are right about our pending parenthood?—”
He silenced her with a long, slow kiss, then lifted his head and smiled. “I pray they are right. Remember, I told ye we needed at least a dozen bairns? The keep is large. It will take a good-sized herd of children to fill it with laughter. If ye bring them in two at a time, the keep will fill even faster.”
“You are being ridiculous.”
“Nay, my dear one. I am a man wise enough to know when I am truly blessed, and I love ye more than life, more than I ever dreamed I could love anyone—and it scares the blazes out of me as much as it thrills me.”
“I love you.” Somehow, those three little words didn’t begin to describe all she felt for him. She reached up and touched his face, wondering how she had ever managed without him. “I guess we should catch up with the others.”
“Aye.” He lifted her back into the saddle and hoisted himself up behind her. “On to Seven Cairns.”