Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(3)
“It canna be,” he whispered to himself. He swiped hair and sweat out of his eyes, blinking hard to clear his sight. His eyes hadna failed him. It was her.
“Nay, Leannan. Nay!” he shouted to the stumbling figure below.
He stared at the familiar airisaidh draped about the head and shoulders of the only woman he’d ever loved as she faltered deeper into the crazed horde. Ominous red stains had seeped through Leannan’s clothing, squeezing all breath from Grant’s lungs.
A snarling woman of the North with her dagger raised bore down on Leannan, ripping the airisaidh away from his love’s coppery hair just as she sagged down to her knees. The relentless warrior caught Leannan up by her braids, shouted something unintelligible, then slit Leannan’s fair white throat. His dearest love’s lifeless body sank into the bloody mud and the heartless marauder kicked her aside.
“No,” Grant rasped out, paralyzed by the gruesome sight. “No!” he finally shouted, then lunged off the steep ledge, hammer raised to take as many Northmen as he could straight to hell with him. He no longer cared if he lived or died. Only one thing mattered. Revenge.
The world exploded with bright light, then all went black.
* * *
—
Voices. Women. And Alec.
Lying on his side, Grant rubbed his face with one hand, then forced his eyes open. What…Where…He dug his fingers into the soft green grass, then slowly rolled to all fours and pushed himself up to his knees. Lifting his face, he squinted against the stark brightness of the clear blue sky, then raised one hand, spreading his fingers against the touch of the cool, refreshing breeze.
I must be dead. Good. The painful memory of Leannan’s murder was the last thing he recalled. Then renewed hope flooded through him. But if I’m dead, I can find her. Surely, the goddesses brought her here too. Grant forced himself to his feet and looked around.
He stood at the edge of a meadow adjoining a wood and if he were still alive in Scotland, he’d say it was early summer. Warm sunshine. Birds singing. His favorite time of year.
“I approve,” he said aloud. No one answered. No matter. The goddesses had finally done something right. This was a good Otherworld.
His parents and two of his brothers lay nearby. They all looked at peace, sleeping soundly among the rolling dips and hillocks of the long grasses gently rippling across the meadow.
I heard Alec. And women. Mayhap they can help me find Leannan. Grant tilted his head and concentrated, listening and silently praying he’d hear them again so he could find them.
A man’s voice. Grant jerked, facing the direction of the sound. That sure as hell wasna Alec.
He took one last glance at his sleeping family, then hurried toward the wood. I must find Leannan.
A brilliant glow burned in the center of the large copse. A light so bright it looked as though the sun itself had descended from the heavens and nestled among the trees. Oak trees. Ahh…a sacred wood. Grant pushed through the underbrush, his spirits lifting ever higher as he plowed deeper into the grove.
This place had to be the Otherworld. He’d be with his sweet Leannan through all eternity. He came up short as a blinding wave of light surged and stopped him at the edge of a clearing. He shielded his eyes against the powerful brilliance and bowed his head. It had to be the goddesses themselves.
“We have brought ye—our faithful servants and protectors of the stone—to a place where ye will be much safer. More at peace. We grew tired of the repeated attacks. There is no need for such violence.”
The orb of light echoed as though three females spoke in unison—each of their melodic voices perfectly pitched to enhance and complement one another. “And fear not—we’ll not be leavin’ ye here without proper guidance. We’ve chosen a fine advisor t’see ye well settled and ensure that ye thrive and guide our other druids of this time. Ye’ll find several druid clans are here, already well established, and at the ready to help ye.” Quiet laughter rippled through the glade like the tinkling of delicate bells. “You—our most beloved line of druids—must not die away. Ye must lead the others once ye’ve learned the ways of this place. Prosper here. Multiply. Keep our stone safe for eternities t’come.”
Multiply? The gut-wrenching realization that he was still alive pushed Grant to his knees. He rested one hand against the trunk of a nearby tree and fisted his other hand against the unbearable ache growing in his chest. This isna the Otherworld. Leannan is gone.
Grant bowed his head and closed his eyes. The unknown male he’d heard earlier spoke again from the other side of the blinding light floating in the clearing.
“I am Dwyn MacKay. Yer neach-teagaisg. The teacher who shall guide ye through the wonders of this new place. I am guardian and tutor to all the druids here. I shall see to it that the MacDara clan does well and continues their legacy to the goddesses and humanity as the protectors of the Heartstone—the sacred stone of hope and love itself.”
“And this place is?” Grant’s brother Alec asked.
“Twenty-first-century North Carolina. Welcome to the future, m’lad.”
“Sons a bitches,” Grant whispered with a low growl. He shook his head against what he’d just heard, then rolled back against the tree and slid to sit on the ground.
“I’d rather be dead.”