Reckoning (Book 4 of Lost Highlander series) (18 page)

Cadaver rounded the desk and gingerly moved aside the collar of her dress. The other two nearly knocked their chairs backwards jumping up for a look. She was sure they were seeing some tidy round burn marks on her neck.

“The holy beads burned ye, when they hit your heathen pelt.”

Heathen pelt? Piper couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You all are crazy.” She started to stand and was instantly shoved back down by both cadaver and the constable.

“Gentlemen, if that wasna enough evidence, I’ll ask ye to look at the items the lass had with her.”

“Her implements of evil,” Rose piped up.

The implements consisted of a small metal flashlight, a green plastic lighter (Evie would have had an aneurism if she knew she took plastic to the past), a roll of bandages and a tiny pillbox with aspirin in it. Cadaver twisted and prodded the flashlight, but her leap through time had drained the battery. It was just a benign tube with a bit of glass at the end. He discarded it with a trace of disappointment, quickly passed over the bandages and glowered suspiciously at the aspirin.

“It’s for headaches,” she said wearily.

“To induce headaches?” The priest crossed himself in alarm.

She refused to answer, instead watching cadaver fiddle around with the lighter. When he figured it out and the small flame sprang to life, everyone exclaimed. He dropped it onto the desk and stared at it as if it was a tarantula.

“She’s harnessed flame in that wee container,” the constable said, sounding more amazed than scared.

“It’s a miracle,” Piper said sarcastically. “I can control fire.”

“Did ye hear her confess?” Rose shrieked. “She admits to controlling the flames of hell.”

“I beg your pardon, but that is not what I said at all.”

Piper clenched her fists and focused all her energy on the desk. If ever she had the power to control fire, now would be the time. She wanted nothing more than to set the room ablaze and be done with this place. Try as she might, nothing happened.

The priest muttered under his breath in Latin, probably waiting for her head to start spinning, and the constable and cadaver spoke together in low tones. Piper never took her eyes off of Rose, until finally she looked at her.

Piper gasped to see her eyes were full of regret and pain. All of the fake zealous hysteria was gone. Rose shook her head slightly and looked away as the cadaver clenched his cold hand around her forearm and hauled her from her chair.

“Back to the cell with ye, lass. We’ll have the judge round in a day or two and have a proper trial. Until then, we canna have ye mingling with the righteous folk.”

An hour or so after he tossed her back in her dark, empty room, the door creaked open and a hard lump of bread smacked her in the shoulder. The door slammed shut before she could see who’d chucked it at her, but her indignation quickly lost out to hunger. The dry bread only made her thirstier, and she wondered if anyone would bring her water. She still had a lick of pride and refused to call out for anything. She did scoot closer to the door in case it opened again.

The little bit of light that came through the tiny window only teased her into thinking she saw things in the corners and across the room. Skittery things, ghostly shadows. Feeling like an idiot, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, hoping she’d wake up somewhere else or at least dream of a better place.

“Lass, wake up. Piper.”

Lachlan had come to rescue her. She felt his big, warm hand on her shoulder and heard his deep, rich voice. He smiled down at her, chasing the gloom from the cell as if he were a hundred watt light bulb. When he ran his fingers down the side of her cheek, the effect on her spirits was just as electrical.

“You came for me,” she said, struggling to sit up.

He nodded and leaned closer, his dark blue eyes searching her face. “Aye, my love. Always.” He pressed his lips against hers and she tried to reach out to him, but he pulled away, the hand that held her shoulder now rough and clutching.

Choking on her tears, she dragged herself awake. Her grandmother squatted beside her in the cell, shaking her out of her dream. Heartsick, she shrugged off her hand and rolled away from her.

“I’ve brought ye some water and some proper food, dear,” Rose said.

Piper sat up, wishing she had something to throw. “Are you kidding me?” she asked. “As if I would ever trust anything from you again.”

Rose poured some water from a stone pitcher into a cup and drank it, refilled the cup and held it out to Piper. She was so thirsty, just hearing Rose swallow the water made her breath hitch. Also, if she drank the water, then she could throw the empty cup at Rose. It was a win-win. With a groan, she grabbed the cup and swallowed it down in great gulps, nearly gagging.

Rose patted her on the back and refilled the cup, telling her to slow down. All of her desire to fling something at Rose’s head dissolved as her thirst was slaked and she slumped back against the wall, staring in defeat at her grandmother.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, taking the cloth bundle containing an apple, a wedge of cheese and some fresher bread than before.

Her pride wasn’t worth much at this point, and it wouldn’t suit to have her stomach growling when she was on trial. They’d probably just say it was a demon trying to break free.

To her surprise, Rose grabbed her hand. “It’s the only way to rid ye of Daria, do ye no’ see?”

Her tiny appetite withered and the bite of cheese went rancid in her mouth. She washed it down with more water. “What?”

“We have to defeat her, aye? She has caused us nothing but pain, spreading evil across generations.” Rose shuddered. “She killed my husband. Who did she take from ye?”

Piper’s head began to swim. Had she agreed to this? Give up her own life to rid the world of Daria? Lachlan’s handsome face, still so fresh from her dream, passed across her mind’s eye. She put down the uneaten food and shoved it away.

“I loved him so much.” She pressed her hands into her chest to try to stop the ache. “I’ll never see him again,” she said, believing it for the first time.

Instead of killing her instantly, she only felt cold and empty. But not alone. As long as Daria lived within her, she’d never be alone. And as long as Daria lived within her, she was dangerous to the ones she loved. Rose was her only option. She didn’t deserve anyone else.

“Did he love ye as well?” Rose asked quietly.

The pain came back in a rush. “He did,” she said. “I know he did. He shouldn’t have.”

“My John loved me too. I came back and found him dying on the mill floor, his throat cut, barely a breath left in him. Do ye know what that meant?” Piper shook her head and Rose continued. “She waited. She couldn’t get me when I left the land, but she waited. I think she could feel the moment I returned. That’s how quick she was. When I was no longer fun for her, she went after ye.”

Piper jumped at that, and turned to see Rose’s gimlet stare trained on her. “What do you mean?” she asked, every fiber in her body wrenching with dread.

“She made me write the letter telling my mother to leave the property to ye. Everything that came after? That was her doing.”

Piper’s thoughts raced backward. None of what Rose said made sense. “That can’t be right. It was a mistake that she sent Brian so far forward in the first place. She never meant—” her head felt fuzzy and she pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets.

“Oh, dear child,” Rose said pityingly. “It gets so much worse, and I only want to spare ye. I had a false sense of confidence, being out of her reach for so long. Then I came back, and watched John die. I can still hear his last gasp. Did ye have to see your man go?”

Piper put her head on her knees. What had happened to Lachlan? She prayed it was quick and painless. Though it was a battle, she knew beyond all doubt that it had been orchestrated by Daria. The very twisting of history to make it happen had been all her doing. And Piper had helped, stupidly and eagerly chasing around in time, doing spells she didn’t understand, trying to be someone strong. Someone she wasn’t. How Daria must have laughed. She was probably laughing now, deep inside her.

“I just want her out,” she choked, clawing at her bodice.

The very air in her lungs felt foul, and each ragged breath she took caused her greater anguish. Everything that kept her alive, kept Daria alive.

Rose patted her back while she cried into her knees. “I know, lass. Because ye’re a good child and dinna hold with evil. We’ll get her out of ye, and then ye shall be at peace.”

Piper rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, feeling the cold ground seep through her dress.

“I know ye want to be at peace, aye?” Rose asked, taking her shawl off and tossing it over Piper’s shoulders. “Ye know what is important.”

Piper nodded and pulled the shawl around her face. “I just want her out,” she repeated.

“No,” Sam said, standing up. Evelyn had never seen him so livid and stepped back. “You can’t go.”

“But, Sam,” she said. “Piper’s in danger. It’s not just me being suspicious, we have proof from Edgar.”

“You’re going to leave Mags? And me? You’re doing the exact same thing that made you dislike Rose. You’re leaving your family.”

She recoiled at his harsh words, feeling torn to shreds. She was sorry she’d been so judgemental of Rose, now that she was faced with a similar choice. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out his hurt face.

“I’ll be back,” she said, wishing she had a better argument, a guarantee that she wasn’t being exactly like Rose. The thought of leaving Magnus for even a few days was like a razor blade slicing her heart, but she couldn’t abandon Piper.

“I have to,” she whispered, flinching when Sam slammed his fist into the table.

Lachlan stepped forward and placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. He stood there fuming but didn’t throw it off.

“I shall bring her back in two days,” he said solemnly. “Ye have my word I shall keep her safe. Whether or not we find Piper, I shall return her to ye.”

Evelyn looked up, ready to protest the measly two days. Sam and Lachlan’s steely faces made her nod her head meekly instead. They would just have to find her fast.

“Two days,” Sam said, pulling her close. She grabbed onto him, realizing all at once how scared she was. “You know I love Piper, but you come back in two days, with or without her, right?”

She nodded sadly into his shoulder, then peeked at Lachlan.

With a single nod he said, “I’ll bring ye back, Evelyn, but rest easy I shall never stop looking for her.”

“Okay,” she said, still clinging to Sam. “But we’ll find her. Edgar’s just a spooked old man. Rose is her grandmother, for goodness sake.”

Evelyn called Padma and begged her to find her a dress and something for Lachlan since he wouldn’t be able to wear either his modern clothes or his kilt, then went to pack anything she could think of that might come in handy but wouldn’t mess up history if she lost it.

She had to believe the allotted two days would be enough, but she also knew she’d be damned before she let Lachlan drag her back here without Piper.

Padma came to the front door, shoved the box of clothing at her and left, shaking her head and muttering about nutter historical re-enactors and their fancy dress emergencies at all hours of the day and night. Evelyn yelled her thanks, promising to make it up to her, relieved she hadn’t stayed to ask questions.

Saying goodbye to Magnus was harder than she thought it would be. Sam refused to let him go anywhere near where they would be leaving from, in case he got caught up in the spell. Having been stolen away and forced to become an infant time traveler, they worried he might be more susceptible. She had to kiss and hug him at the castle, before she and Lachlan set out for a safe spot closer to the village.

“Ye can always stay behind,” Lachlan reminded her as she boo-hooed into her son’s sweet smelling, downy head.

She couldn’t look at Sam as she kissed him goodbye, forcing herself to walk away and get in the car. She caught a glimpse of him standing in the driveway holding Magnus and almost couldn’t see to drive.

“Why are ye doing this?” Lachlan asked when she’d downgraded from sobbing to sniveling.

She wiped her face on her sleeve and took the tissue Lachlan offered her to blow her nose. “Because Piper would do it for me. She did do it for me, when Daria took Mags.”

“I shall return ye safely to your son,” he said, ever the stern Highland warrior.

She laughed, shaking off the last of her melancholy to get into fight mode. “I know you will,” she said, taking a deep breath, only to have it cut off halfway by her corset. “God, I hate eighteenth century clothes.”

She wriggled in the seat, trying to get comfortable in the many layers and keep her stays from stabbing her in the ribs. Lachlan looked magnificent in his tan trousers and dark green waistcoat. He’d complained about the odd cut and seemingly excessive trim on his jacket, but she and Sam had showed him pictures to prove that was what men wore in that time. Because of his great size, the jacket hugged his wide shoulders. She couldn’t wait until Piper saw him. That was going to be the best reaction of all.

She parked the car in a scenic overlook space where Sam could pick it up the next day. Grabbing an old receipt off the floor, she drew a heart on the back and wrote that she would see him soon, then left it in the middle of the driver’s seat.