The Highlander Next Door (12 page)

Then again, it just as well could be a reproduction.

Either way, it looked expensive; certainly not something a bird should be flying around with, much less exchanging for leftover pie. But lots of birds were notorious for snatching up shiny objects, weren’t they? And Spellbound Falls drew ultrarich tourists from all over the world, so maybe her visitor tonight had filched it off a beach towel where some idiot had left it while she’d gone swimming.

Birch grabbed the grocery list pad from the center of the table, tore off one of the blank pages, picked up the pencil, and began her note with
Dear Chief MacKeage
. She explained that a really large bird—describing as best she could because it had been so dark and saying she initially thought it was a seagull—had given her the barrette tonight in exchange for some pie. Birch then went on to explain she hoped he had a lost-and-found drawer in his station’s safe, unable to keep from smiling at her dig that he didn’t
have
a station, much less a safe. Then she added she was certain it was an expensive—underlining
expensive
—barrette, on the chance the easily offended jerk thought about keeping it to give the next woman he had a powerful desire to kiss.

And finally, because she just couldn’t resist, Birch added that she hoped he didn’t find any purple splats decorating his monstrous, manly pickup in the morning.

Folding the note around the barrette as she walked to the counter and pulled a plastic sandwich bag out of a drawer, Birch slipped the barrette and note inside and headed back outdoors. She let her eyes adjust to the darkness, then made her way over to Niall’s truck and, praying he didn’t have it rigged with an alarm, tried the driver’s door. Finding it locked, she climbed up on the running board, lifted the windshield wiper and tucked the barrette under it, then looked up at the star-studded sky.

“This truck, Mr. Bird,” she said softly, holding on to the outside mirror with one hand and gesturing at the truck’s windshield with the other. “Cover it in bright purple splats and I will be your friend for life.”

Her moral obligation done, Birch returned to the house, kicked off her shoes and hung her jacket on the peg by the back door, then headed into the living room and pulled the familiar book off the bottom bookshelf. She flopped down on the couch and stretched out, propped the thick, heavy tome on her belly with a sigh, and opened it to the title page.

She smiled as she ran a finger over the handwritten
Happy Birthday, little cadet. Love, Dad
, then flipped to the bookmark and once again started reading how to break down and clean any of several caliber Smith & Wesson automatic pistols.

Oh yeah; they hadn’t invented a pill that could put her to sleep any quicker than her seventh-year birthday gift—which was why its pages were worn ragged and all but falling out of the binding.

Fairly certain the symbol carved into the unsettling surprise he’d found on his windshield this morning had something to do with Atlantis, Niall had driven a mile farther down the camp road rather than into town. He was just glad Birch had thought to put the hairclip and note in a plastic bag, seeing how it had taken several buckets of hot water to wash off the large bird droppings that had hit his windshield dead center—having assumed the culprit had been a seagull until he’d read Birch’s even more unsettling note. Now standing at the end of Titus’s driveway as the magic-maker studied the hairclip, Niall stopped in the middle of surreptitiously rolling his shoulder when he spied Shep licking the plate Rana was holding as she sat on her porch steps, and hoped like hell she wasn’t feeding the little beggar her husband’s breakfast.

“I could heal that shoulder if you wish,” Titus said without looking up.

“Thank you, but it’s doing a fine job of healing itself.”

Titus lifted his gaze. “For such intelligent men, you MacKeages are uncommonly suspicious of the magic.”

“Likely because it’s caused us more problems than it’s solved.”

“You can blame Pendaär for bumbling his spell and bringing your father and the others here along with Greylen. Also blame de Gairn,” Titus added dryly, “for upsetting the Continuum to the point he nearly wiped out mankind. And if I’m not mistaken, it was Winter MacKeage who finally set things right.” He arched a regal white brow. “Maybe it’s the women who should be kidnapping you warriors.”

“I’m not so sure Duncan and Alec would agree with ye, as they seem content with the way their courtships turned out.”

“Speaking of intelligent women,” Titus went on with a grin, lifting his other hand, which held the decidedly sarcastic note. “Some might consider your Miss Callahan as being more abrasive than spirited.”

“Aye,” Niall said on a sigh. “She does seem to get riled easily. Last night when I asked to take her to dinner at Aeolus’s, Birch informed me that police officers can’t afford to spend an entire week’s salary on one date, after which she accused me of trying to buy my way into her bloomers.”

“But is ending up in bed together not the very point of dating?”

Niall couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Well, aye, eventually.” He sobered. “I just don’t care for being accused of having ulterior motives when all I wanted was a date.”

“Have you considered that Miss Callahan might not be all that enamored with men in general and maybe police officers in particular?”

“When we were trapped in Vaughn’s cellar yesterday, Birch made a point of saying she doesn’t hate men. Although she did admit she doesn’t care for macho idiots who think every problem can be solved with brute force.”

Titus eyed him speculatively. “And yet you seem quite attracted to her.”

Undecided where this was going, and thinking only a suicidal idiot would outright lie to Titus Oceanus, Niall merely nodded.

“But you find modern courtship difficult to fathom.”

That made him chuckle. “Modern
science
is easier to fathom. Back in my old time, all that was required was for a man to declare his interest in a lass, prove he could protect her and the babes they would have, and do a bit of wooing.” Knowing the powerful magic-maker had access to all the knowledge contained in the Trees of Life, the past as well as the present and future, Niall hesitated, but then decided he didn’t have anything to lose by asking. “I would probably have a better chance of wooing Birch if I knew what had happened in her past to make her so short-tempered with men in general and police officers in particular.”

Up went that regal brow again. “So you’re willing to endure several days of pain rather than let me heal your shoulder, but you don’t have a problem using the magic to help you get in a woman’s bloomers?” Titus shook his head. “You must embrace the entire journey, Niall, to truly appreciate the destination.”

“It was just a thought,” he said with a shrug, only to immediately regret the action when sharp daggers shot across his shoulder blade. He hadn’t wanted to feel beholden to the elder theurgist, anyway—not that bringing him to this century hadn’t indebted him enough already. “So, do ye recognize the hairclip?”

Obviously not wanting to leave the subject of women in general or Birch in particular, Titus frowned down at the clip. “This barrette was in one of the satchels of provisions I manifested for Rana when we were hiking back from our shipwreck on Bottomless several weeks ago.”

“And you think a seagull found the bags and took a liking to a shiny object?”

“No,” Titus said quietly, slipping the hairclip in his pocket. “A gull would have immediately recognized its origin and brought it directly to me.”

Niall felt the fine hairs on his neck stir. “The new god,” he said softly. “You told us ye saw him fighting the demons not far from where you were forced to abandon the satchels.” He nodded at the note Titus was still holding. “But if the bird was the new god or his emissary, why give the hairclip to Birch?”

“Likely to let us know that he did indeed survive,” Titus said, also slipping the note in his pocket. “And personally, I couldn’t think of a better way to prove that I had gained command of the magic than to get within a mile of another deity’s home.” He went back to looking speculative, despite his grin. “As for giving the barrette to Miss Callahan, maybe the forest god is also attracted to pint-sized spitfires.”

Niall didn’t know which bothered him more: that they had a new and obviously powerful magic-maker to deal with or that the bastard had taken a shine to Birch.

“Forgive me for intruding, gentlemen,” Rana said as she walked out the driveway—her smile implying she wasn’t the least bit apologetic as Shep pranced beside her like the besotted beggar he was. “But I didn’t want our hero to leave before I added my own admiration to what will surely be a throng of adoration in town today.”

“Be mindful of his arm,” Titus said when Rana clasped Niall’s sleeve. “As I believe that’s the one he injured saving young Miss Vaughn yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Only instead of letting go, Rana gently ran her hand up his bicep and patted his shoulder, her smile turning as lopsided as her unpainted and crooked little seaside cottage. “But then, I imagine you don’t mind pulling a few muscles to save the life of a young girl, do you, Laird MacKeage?”

“Nay,” he said, fighting an urge to roll his shoulder again when each gentle pat she gave him sent hot pinpricks pulsing down his arm.

“I happened to be at the clinic visiting Maude yesterday when you brought in Reggie and the Vaughn women,” she went on, her eyes crinkling with mischief as she reached up with her other hand and used the sleeve of her fleece to polish the badge pinned to his jacket. “And your Miss Callahan told me that Misty wasn’t the only damsel you rescued. You also apparently demolished a cellar foundation just like your
ancestors
used to crumble castle walls. Yes, I believe she specifically said
castle
.”

Niall wondered if
his
Miss Callahan had been snickering as she’d related that part of their adventure. “Did Birch also happen to mention that she has the riding skills of a newborn, the temper of a termagant, and a vocabulary that I suspect would have
me
blushing if I knew French?”

“She did mention something about galloping to the rescue on a plow horse,” Rana said, her eyes now sparkling with laughter as she gave his shoulder one final pat before dropping her hand. “And I wouldn’t have thought anything could make a big strong highlander blush, much less a pint-sized spitfire.”

Was there a reason his romantic pursuit of Birch had become a spectator sport?

“If you’ll excuse me, ma’am,” Niall said with a slight bow—proud of himself for finally learning not to use “her highness” but still not quite brave enough to call the regal woman by her first name. “But I’d best be getting into town to make sure the traffic is moving smoothly, as I heard the grange ladies are putting on a bake sale in front of the church again this morning.”

“Yes, leave us to finish our business, wife,” Titus said, making Niall wonder about the edge in his voice. “And please reheat my breakfast.”

Niall couldn’t tell if Rana was scowling or smiling as she glanced toward the licked-clean plate sitting on the porch. “Yes. Well. I believe I’ll work off
my
breakfast by walking into town to see what baked goods might catch my eye. As for your breakfast,” she added as she strode to the house, “I’m sure you remember how to work the cookstove, don’t you, my love?”

Nay, definitely not smiling, Niall decided.

“I’m sorry, MacKeage,” Titus said, the edge still in his voice as he watched his wife walk away. “But I swear three-year-old Ella has more restraint when it comes to using the magic.”

“Excuse me?”

“That roof was only
half
as crooked before Rana decided to try straightening it herself,” Titus went on, gesturing toward the house as he shook his head. “I have no idea what possessed me, after forty years of wedded bliss, to persuade my wife that she is just as capable of working the magic as I am.” He looked at Niall, his grimace ruined by the gleam in his eyes. “I can put the pain back in your shoulder if you wish.”

Niall snapped his gaze to the house in time to see Rana disappear inside, even as he flexed his perfectly healed shoulder. “Sweet Lord,” he whispered, looking at Titus, “she has command of the magic?”

“A rudimentary command,” the theurgist said dryly. “Couple that with a burning desire to fix
everything
, and I assure you I wasn’t jesting when I said my granddaughter has more restraint. Don’t worry, MacKeage,” he added with a chuckle, “your arm isn’t going to suddenly fall off.”

Niall firmed his slackened jaw and wiped what he assumed was a look of horror off his face. “Are you and Mac truly not going to do anything about the new god?” he asked, deciding to get back to the original subject and save worrying about his arm falling off for later.

“What is it you think we should do?”

“Maybe find out if he is friend or foe? Despite only speaking with the colony’s leader a couple of times,” Niall went on when Titus merely looked at him, “I can’t say that I trust Sebastian. It’s my understanding the original group formed on the belief the earthquake four years ago was a magical event, and that they came here hoping to find a way to harness it to aid mankind. At least that was their intention until Sebastian showed up and persuaded them to call forth a new god to help control the energy.”

“But you believe Sebastian has another agenda,” Titus said quietly, “other than helping humanity?”

“I think the man is only interested in his own pursuit of power. Did Dante not say that more men of his ilk have been joining the colony these last few weeks?”

Titus nodded. “It appears Sebastian is moving his followers from a previous commune to this one. Dante feels the slow migration is deliberate so as not to call attention to themselves.”

“And if Sebastian has the power of a god backing him?” Niall asked. “Ye said yourself that the new entity already has a strong command of the magic.”

Up went that imperial brow. “So you’ve decided he will be Sebastian’s puppet, rather than wonder why he hasn’t let the colony know he’s already here?”

“I assumed he was learning the extent of his power before showing himself.” Niall blew out a sigh. “I’d just like to know what to expect, is all, before the people I’ve promised to serve and protect find themselves at the mercy of a madman who has the backing of a powerful new magic.”

“We can’t really help you with Sebastian, but you have my assurance, Niall,” Titus said quietly, “that should your new
god
prove an adversary rather than an ally, mankind will have Maximilian’s backing. And mine, should my son need assistance.” He grinned. “You’re on your own, though, if the entity has taken a liking to your Miss Callahan.”

Not willing to return to that subject, Niall opened the door of his truck and motioned for Shep to jump in, then turned back to Titus. “Ye called him a forest god; are you saying his energy is rooted in the land?”

“From what I’ve seen of him so far, that would appear to be the case.” Titus hesitated, then added, “The majority of the colonists who called him forth are original settlers, meaning it was
their
altruistic intentions that caused him to manifest. And because we have vowed not to interfere in man’s free will, Maximilian and I must content ourselves with waiting to see how this plays out.” He nodded. “While keeping Dante at the colony as our eyes and ears, of course.”

Niall merely nodded back and got in the truck.

“Meanwhile,” Titus continued before Niall could close the door, “I plan to take a stroll along the shoreline this morning. And if my timing is such that I happen upon Miss Callahan on the beach and thank her for helping return my wife’s barrette, I could also mention that an anonymous citizen has provided you two free dinners at Aeolus’s as a reward for your heroics yesterday.”

“Thank you, but I’m going to give your suggestion to ‘embrace the entire journey’ a try first.”