Page 10 of Utterly Dauntless (Return to Culloden Moor #3)

CHAPTER TEN

A fter his stop for food, Grey had plenty of time to think in the two hours it took him to get back to Inverness. By the time he hit town, he had slowed considerably, but in direct opposition, his mind raced faster.

Kitchens had called with details. Aries had gone willingly into the house, and hadn't seemed in immediate danger. But there were eyes both inside and outside. Thanks to a laser microphone, they could hear everything, but it wasn't much. From what the men had gleaned, Aries had been isolated in a room or a closet, told to take a seat, then left alone. It appeared the man was in no hurry to deal with her.

Conversely, Grey couldn't wait.

Carson paced the kitchen anxiously, his eyes darting to the pantry door that separated him from Aries. He had dreamed of this moment for years, ever since the day of her father's funeral. He had watched and waited, biding his time, hoping against hope that she would return to Inverness. And now, long after he'd given up, she had.

He replayed the events of the previous day in his mind. He had spotted her rental car as she was leaving Peg's and knew he couldn't let her slip away again. So, he had followed, waited for his chance. When the road finally was theirs alone, he'd nudged her onto the shoulder and blocked her in. His threat had been so convincing, she'd come along quietly. What luck!

He just hoped his luck would hold.

Now, with the witch safely contained on the other side of that door, Carson could think rationally again. He must decide exactly what to say before he confronted her. He'd write it all down so he didn't forget anything. One would think, after decades, he'd have it all memorized, but he didn't trust his memory. Every time he looked at her, his mind blanked.

No. He needed crib notes.

He searched the drawer and found a pen, no paper. He headed for the desk in the back room, but his feet and heart stopped together. Blocking the doorway was a towering, kilted Highlander with a sword on his hip. A man whose entire body flexed when he opened and closed his fists.

And all Carson had was a pen.

He turned to flee, to draw the man out of his house and away from the woman secreted away in his pantry. But when he wrenched open his front door, another big man was waiting. A shorter menace than the first, but dangerous nonetheless.

The first had followed him. Carson’s only escape was the stairs. He flew up them like he had wings on his feet, then wracked his brain for anything that might serve as a weapon. When he found yet another Highlander stretched across his bed with a wicked grin on his face, he dropped the pen.

"Well, well," the man drawled, "if it isn't Mr. Blue Van."

Carson fought to pull air into his lungs, to get oxygen to his brain.

Had one of them witnessed him taking the witch from her car? Impossible. If so, they would have pounced on his arse when he stopped to sleep.

"Lookin' for somethin'?" The man's tone was deceptively solicitous.

Carson suddenly remembered the knife in his pocket and whipped it out. When the intruder just laughed, his thoughts began to scramble. So he carefully thought one thing at a time.

Knife. Drop the knife.

He dropped it.

Run!

He ran, but when he flew down the stairs, four big men gathered at the bottom to greet him. Three of them wore the kind of smile that invited him to piss himself. The fourth silently promised pain. And lots of it.

With sweaty hands squealing along the walls, Carson finally stopped his momentum still steps from the bottom, but it was too late to turn back. Long arms reached for him. Massive hands grasped his clothing, his arms, and guided him down. Then they insisted, not so gently, that he return to the kitchen. Once there, all five of them surrounded him like a fighting ring with him in the center. There was no chance he could win against any one of them. Even the shortest bastard had a confident, lethal look about him.

"It wasn't supposed to go this way!" He couldn't help but be pissin' mad. He was about to be robbed of the vindication he had sought nearly the whole of his life!

He put his hands on his head and began to pace in what little space they allowed him. Rage made it impossible to hold still, no matter what these bastards wanted.

"First things first," the mean one said. "Where is she?"

The rattle of a doorhandle drew all attention to the pantry. Carson took a step to the side, hoping to go for the door while the intruders were distracted, but the shortest one clamped a hand around his arm.

"Grey?" Aries pounded on the door. "Grey, is that you?"