Forever Doon (14 page)

S
taring into a face I never thought I'd see again, I didn't feel the pain of Jamie's fingers digging into my throat. It couldn't be.
My
Jamie was gone. Fergus had watched him hang. No way the witch let him survive.

Fury contorted my attacker's face and his muscles tensed to run me through. I jerked back and brought my knee up hard, but he twisted away. His lips curled in a dark smirk that was so Jamie, my legs buckled beneath me. His hand squeezed tighter on my throat, keeping me on my feet.

Everything indicated Jamie stood before me, but his actions said otherwise. Could this creature be some reincarnated nightmare Addie had devised to torture me? If so, it was working like a charm.

Cold steel pressed into my breastbone. “Where's your magic,
witch
?” He shoved his face into mine and growled, “This act doesna fool me.”

Act? I had no idea what he was saying, but as his hand
crushed my windpipe and he lifted me into the air, I began to beg. “Jamie, please,” I croaked. “Don't—”

He cocked his head, his brows drawing together in confusion before he hardened his jaw and drew back his sword arm with fresh resolve. “Usin' her voice will no' save ye this time.”

Whoever, or
whatever
he was, he didn't recognize me. Believed I was his enemy. I reached for an axe, but my vision began to fade, my fingers going numb.

A body rushed out of the darkness and tackled the Jamie-creature. I fell in a jumbled heap of tingling limbs. Gasping to pull air into my lungs, I scrambled away as Ewan smashed an unlit torch against Jamie's arm, knocking the sword from his grip. They rolled, fists flying so fast I couldn't tell who was winning. In that moment, I wasn't sure which one I wanted to prevail. The Jamie clone had almost killed me, but it was still somehow,
impossibly . . .
Jamie.

Ewan lost the upper hand, and Jamie, straddling his waist, trapped the smaller boy on his back and locked his arms to his sides. Quick as lightning, a dagger appeared in Jamie's hand. He raised the knife, ready to strike. But before I could choke out a scream, he froze. “Ewan?”

“Aye, ye bloody loon, and that there is her highness, Queen Veronica!” Ewan jammed a finger in my direction. Then he turned back to the large Scotsman sitting on his chest, his eyes widening as realization dawned across his face. “Laird?”

Without answering, Jamie turned to me, our gazes locking through the gloom. Could it really be him? Had Fergus misunderstood what he'd seen? My hearing dimmed and the rest of the world faded away. Without realizing it, I had crawled toward him.

“Laird!” Ewan's voice squeaked in desperation as if he'd repeated himself more than once.

“Aye?” Jamie answered, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I'm happy ta see ye and all, but could ye have your reunion somewhere other than on my chest?”

Jamie rose and Ewan rolled away, hugging his ribs. Jamie rushed forward and dropped to his knees before me, his stare intense and questioning. Inky shadows hung under his eyes and he was thinner, but every line of his face, from his slashing brows to his dimpled chin, was Jamie's. My throat closed and I swallowed, hard. “Is it really you?”

Slowly, as if I might shatter into a million pieces if he touched me, he raised his hand to my hair, his dark eyes turning liquid. Desperate to believe he was real, I threw my arms around him, even as doubts flooded my mind. The witch had fooled me before. She'd disguised herself as Allyson when we first arrived in Alloway, and then Emily to worm her way into my inner circle.

Was I letting it happen again?

“Yer Majesty, we've got company.” The urgency in Ewan's tone brought me back to the present with a jolt. Shouts sounded in the distance, punctuated by hurried footfalls. My questions would have to wait. I fingered the teardrop-shaped bottle tucked in my pocket. The elixir was our best hope and we had to get it out of the castle.

Jamie released me. “Escape and then we'll talk, eh?”

I nodded as we rose to our feet, my head spinning with the possibilities. If this were a zombie Jamie, wouldn't he be a mindless killing machine like Drew? His skin melting off like Gregory? Or was that just from the effects of the zombie fungus?

“I'll jump across and throw the rope back,” Ewan called from where he perched on the stone rail, knees bent for the dismount.

When we'd first returned to our escape route, we'd noticed the rope had come untied from the terrace. Now it hung useless from the yew tree, fifteen feet way. It was a leap I doubted I could make without the rope, but I had to let Ewan try. I gave a quick nod and he launched himself into the air. For a moment, he appeared suspended, arms spread, dark cloak flapping behind him like a flying squirrel. Then he gripped a jutting branch that bowed under his weight, and he swung to his perch in the tree.

The pound of boots grew louder, intermingled with the yap of hounds. Jamie's warm fingers closed around my bare wrist. His touch rocked me so deeply, I gasped. Refusing to look at him, I grit my teeth and pulled away.

“Ye go first and I'll follow.”

I gave a nod, and when the rope slapped into the banister I grabbed it and climbed up onto the ledge. I glanced back to see Jamie retrieving his sword, just as guards rounded the corner.

“Stop in the name of the queen!”

The queen
, my behind! Tempted to turn and face my betrayers, I forced myself to focus on my mission and leapt off the banister. I flew through the night, and before I had time to think, Ewan clutched my arms and steadied me on the branch beside him. Grabbing an overhead limb, I spun around, but could just make out flashes of movement in the alcove and hear the metallic clash of steel meeting steel as Jamie fought the witch's soldiers. My heart hammered into my temples. “Throw the rope!”

I grabbed it and tried to jerk it out of Ewan's fist, but he held tight and whispered, “Wait.”

“Wait for what?” I hissed, my head about to explode. “To watch him die in front of me this time?” Regardless of my doubts, I couldn't let that happen.

Ewan stepped backward along the branch, his body forcing me to move deeper into the tree. “The witch's sentries may not have seen us. We canna risk lettin' them inform her that ye've been in the castle.”

“But we have no idea how many guards are over there. We
need
to help him!” My voice rose in panic as shouts and barking carried to us, followed by what sounded like a bar brawl. Grunts and growls. Crashing metal and the thump of bodies. I stared hard at the shadowed space, but could only see quick bursts of action.

“The MacCrae is one of the best swordsmen I've ever seen,” Ewan answered while keeping his gaze glued to the terrace. “In the lists, I've seen him take down five armed guards by himself.”

A body went flying over the balcony rail. My breath stopped, until the large man smacked into the water next to the dock, and I recognized that it wasn't Jamie.

“And he fights dirty.” A begrudging admiration laced Ewan's words, as if he'd been on the receiving end of his leader's particular brand of attack more than once.

The commotion in the darkened alcove seemed to lessen, and Ewan inched forward along the branch. A familiar sharp command sounded, followed by the cessation of barking and a low whine—Jamie quieting the hounds. I'd always marveled at how he could calm Blaz with a stern noise and a touch to the dog's neck. If he were the witch in disguise or a mindless zombie, would he know to do that?

“Throw the rope.”

Just as the words left my mouth, Jamie hopped onto the railing. Ewan rushed forward, tossed the rope, and we both worked our way back toward the trunk to make room on the branch. Jamie swung through the air and landed with the powerful grace of a big cat, the limb dipping gently beneath his added weight.

“We should go,” Jamie panted as he swiped blood from a cut on his cheek. “One of the men escaped.”

But I couldn't move. My fingers gripped the rough edges of bark at my back as I examined his face. The moon filtered through the scattered foliage, peppering his countenance with blotches of night. Was this my Jamie?

“Yer Majesty,” Ewan urged, and then turned to face Jamie. “Laird, as ye said, we must go. There'll be time for makin' cow eyes later.”

Jamie tore his gaze away and gave a quick nod before he began to scramble down the tree. I followed and when I reached the lowest branch, dangled several feet from the ground. Before I could drop, hands encased my waist. “Let go, I've got ye.”

I released my grip and fell, my stomach jumping into my throat before I felt Jamie take my weight. He lowered me down the strong plains of his body, and despite being in the lee of a cursed castle with enchanted guards on their way to find us, sparks skittered over my skin, leaving me breathless. Could a witch-created Jamie do
that
?

There was an easy way to find out. My hands settled on the back of his broad neck and I stared up into his face as my feet touched the earth. “What's your favorite food?”

The corner of his mouth lifted and he answered without hesitation. “Churros from the mall in Indianapolis.”

I blinked at him in awe; only my Jamie had traveled to America and fallen in love with all forms of junk food.

His eyes still guarded, he asked, “What did I give ye before your last coronation ceremony?”

“Handfasting ribbons.” I lowered my right arm and pulled up my sleeve to show him the scarlet ribbon, the one that signified strength, tied to my wrist.

“Verranica.” His voice broke on my name. “I . . .” He raised
his hand to my throat, brushing a thumb over my bruised skin. “I hurt ye . . . almost killed—”

“Stop, okay? You're alive, that's all that matters.”

He swallowed and his tortured gaze cut straight to my soul. “I'm so verra sorry.”

Blinking tears from my eyes, I squeezed his hand. “You thought I was the witch, didn't you?”

His lips parted in wonder and he nodded before he crushed me to his chest and buried his face in my hair. And the link I thought forever broken snapped into place between us. The Calling's indescribable bond that made us part of one another.

This
was my Jamie.

I'd heard once that everyone gets one miracle in their lifetime. A whimper vibrated my chest, and I was unable to draw air as I clung to mine. From the first moment Jamie MacCrae had appeared to me in the modern world, my life had been one marvel after another. But holding him in my arms again topped them all.

He murmured something about honeyed berries before releasing me and turning to Ewan. “I assume ye arrived in that.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Will the boat hold us all?”

“With Oliver, just barely.” Ewan took off toward the trees where we'd left our injured friend.

I turned to follow and felt large, warm fingers link through mine. Fresh tears prickled the backs of my eyes and I gently pulled my hand from Jamie's. An emotional breakdown was a luxury I couldn't afford at the moment. And if he touched me again, I might curl into him and never want to move.

Focusing on the task at hand—getting us and the elixir safely away from the castle—I jogged after Ewan's retreating shadow. Jamie followed and we broke through the stand of
pines, just as shouts rose from the castle gates. Oliver, only half conscious, staggered to his feet. “Is that you, MacCrae?”

“Aye.” Jamie's eyes narrowed on the ragged flesh of the older man's arm before ducking under his shoulder. Ewan did the same on Oliver's other side, and they half carried him out of the forest.

“I'll get the boat in the water,” I called as I rushed to the muddy edge of the lake. The steady tattoo of booted feet echoed through the night air, but mist hung heavy on the loch. If we could just make it onto the water, the guards would never catch us.

I pushed with all my might. My feet slipping and sliding in the muck, I only moved the craft a few inches. The odd shuffle of the guys approaching grew louder and I doubled my efforts, anchoring my heels. The prow sank into the lapping current as a cry sounded from the castle. “The intruders are entering the loch on the east side!”

My arms shook as I pushed. Part of me knew that one of the men could get the boat in the water with a single shove, but the thought only made me more determined. I gathered strength from my core, let out a growl, and gave a mighty heave. The boat slid into the shallows, tugging me with it. I stumbled forward, then threw my weight back, just managing to keep the back edge of the craft on dry land.

Jamie lifted Oliver into the boat. “Ewan, take the oars. I'll man the rudder.”

Ewan positioned himself between the oars and I hopped in beside Oliver. An arrow whizzed past my face and splashed into the mucky bank.

“Vee, get down!” Jamie yelled as he shoved the boat the rest of the way into the lake and then jumped in. “Get this bucket moving, Ewan!”

Ewan heaved the long oars through the water with as much speed as his thin arms could produce, but moving against the current slowed our momentum. I helped Oliver off the seat and we both sank into the icy puddle at the bottom of the boat as three more arrows landed in quick succession. One missed, but the other two hit dangerously close—the first stuck in the wood near my face, the other in the bench we'd just vacated.

Jamie jerked the rudder, but the boat's slow response didn't produce the evasive maneuver he was aiming for. Why hadn't I listened and brought the crossbow? At least then I wouldn't feel like a duck in a carnival shooting game. The whiff of several more arrows flew toward us, one hitting the oar less than an inch from Ewan's fingers. Frantic, he increased his speed and we entered a bank of fog so thick I could barely see my hand in front of my face.