Highland Son (Highland Sorcery: A New Dawn) Read online

They were taken to and confined in one of the old guest rooms on the ground floor. It’d been stripped of, well, everything. No beds or dresser. Most of the hardware in the bathroom was gone, even the mirror had been removed. The glass from the one window was missing, replaced by stained Plexiglas and bars. Apparently they weren’t the first guests this group had detained.

  Ethan sank down on the worn beige carpeting and leaned his back against the wall. “I’m not leaving Beatrice behind.”

  Dez huffed an exasperated sigh. “If you’d stop naming your weapons you wouldn’t be so attached.”

  “She’s irreplaceable.” Ethan ran a palm across his close-cropped hair. “Where would I ever find another one? If you guys want to jump out of here, go ahead, I ain’t going.”

  “You think we wouldn’t?” Dez countered, prowling the empty room like a caged wolf. Of course he wouldn’t. Neither of them would.

  “Unbunch your panties.” Alexander sank down along the opposite wall. “We’re not anywhere near that point. Assessment?”

  Dez scratched his jaw. “The men holding our ammo all went into the first door left of the check-in desk. A good bet that’s where they keep their arms. There were three guys on the roof, another two in the parking lot, most likely another pair round the other side, and the dozen that brought us in, most armed with military grade, some with good ole boy hunting rifles and crossbows, which, makes me wonder if they have the fire power to keep off a large impact of Sifts or if they’ve pulled out all they got for show.”

  “By my count,” Ethan jumped in. “Nineteen or twenty men, seven women, one of them older than the hills, and thirteen kids, none younger than five or six. The guy in charge is a pompous buttwipe. You thinking of bringing them to the lighthouse?”

  “Their defenses are limited. We can’t leave them, especially those kids to be slaughtered.”

  “I’m not suggesting that. It’s just…” Ethan scowled. “Something’s not right here. It feels…”

  Alexander leaned forward. He’d been feeling it too, but having Ethan say it out loud stirred the uneasiness in his gut.

  “…off.” Ethan shrugged.

  ~~~

  Jewel ladled out three bowls of stew and placed them on the silver platter along with the mugs of water and bread Mae had baked this morning. Sheppard wouldn’t like her going near the strangers, but she’d never been that good at doing as she was told anyway. And maybe these guys had the means to help her.

  She walked casually through the courtyard with her load. Miles sat outside the room on one of the old plastic poolside chairs.

  “They give away anything interesting?” she asked, knowing part of his guard duty would be to try and listen in on the strangers’ conversation inside.

  “Not really. They’re keeping their voices low, but…” Miles frowned. “They’re a cool lot, cool as cucumbers. Not one of them has freaked out and from what I did hear, they sized us up pretty accurately. Mentioned something about a lighthouse?”

  “A lighthouse?”

  Miles stood and reached for the tray. “I’ll take this in to them.”

  Jewel tightened her grip. “I’ve got it.”

  Miles didn’t move away from the door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “They’ve been in there two hours. I’m not going to let them go hungry.”

  “But Sheppard…”

  “…wants all the fighters we can get. Keeping them locked up and hungry isn’t a great way to convince them to join us.”

  He frowned down at her. She smiled sweetly. “When I’m done feeding them, I’ll go fetch you some stew too.”

  He eyed the tray. “And Mae’s bread?”

  “Sure.” She knew she had him.

  “Okay, but this needs to stay out here.” Leaning in, he slipped the small handgun out of the holster on her hip and set it on the plastic chair to lift his own rifle. “I go in first.”

  “Of course.”

  “And when I say it’s time to leave, you leave.”

  “Understood.”

  “Ready?”

  She nodded and Miles turned the key in the lock and opened the door and stepped inside before her. “Stay where you are,” he ordered the men inside while Jewel stepped into the threshold.

  The Plexiglas window didn’t allow in much light. Two of the men were on opposite sides of the narrow room, seated on the carpet, legs sprawled out in front of them. They appeared as relaxed as cats yet Jewel didn’t miss the underlying coil of tension as the one with his hair close-cropped bent one leg up to casually rest his forearm along his knee. These guys were anything but relaxed and Jewel’s stomach tightened at the undercurrent of uneasiness just being at the edge of the room with these guys emitted.

  That they were dangerous men and a little too confident in their situation was a given.

  It was the third guy that made her the most nervous, though she couldn’t put a finger on why. Between the three, he was the most lanky, the most unassuming, yet…

  He stood at the far corner of the room, watching her.

  “’Bout time you fed us,” the dusky blond snapped. Jewel had the sudden impression he was purposely gathering any attention to himself. “Seeing as you took all our own rations off us.”

  “Thought we were guests.” The other guy still seated drawled.

  “You are.” She came all the way into the room. Careful to go behind Miles and not get between his rifle and the men. “Dinner has just been prepared and you’re the first to be served. As guests should be.” She lowered the tray to the blond man first, going on the assumption that he was the leader…or at least wanted them to believe he was. It was actually hard to tell. They were three alpha wolves. Any one of them could be the pack leader.

  The leader straightened against the wall and accepted a bowl from the tray. “Thank you ma’am.” His quiet gratitude softened some of his rough edges. Jerking her gaze into the light blue eyes, the genuineness surprised her.

  She went to the other guy on the floor next, because he was closer, not because she could feel the intense gaze of the longer-haired man.

  The other dark close-cropped haired guy waggled his brows while she crouched near. “A silver tray. Bringing out all the stops, sweetheart.”

  She grinned. “This one hasn’t been melted down for bullets yet so I thought I’d make use of it.”

  The guy’s eyes twinkled at the mention of bullets. Yeah, he’d been the one with an entire stockade hidden on him. Jewel found herself smiling back. She could get along with a guy like that.

  Straightening, she went to the last man, careful not to turn her back on the others even though she knew Miles had her covered. Without a word, the guy took the last bowl of stew from the tray and cradled its warmth between long fingers..

  None of them had taken the bread yet so she stood there holding the tray like a dimwit. She couldn’t set it down on the floor between them, not without giving them access to the heavy tray that could easily become a weapon.

  She internally huffed at herself. They still each had their handguns, albeit unloaded. Even without those, these guys didn’t look like the type who needed a tray if they meant to take her down.

  She debated setting it down in a show of trust—Miles would kick her butt if she was wrong—when she realized that none of the men had touched their stew yet.

  This time her huff was heard. “You think we’d go to the trouble to bring you here just to poison you?”

  “Not all drugs are intended to kill.” His voice was so quiet beside her, she made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. Dark eyes, not brown, but…almost violet. And wary. Geez, what had these men been through that they worried about being drugged more than a bullet to the gut? Her heart stumbled to a complete stop. Intelligence gazed back at her. He knew things, this guy. He’d seen and done things that hardly anybody else could comprehend.

  Taken in by those eyes, Jewel wanted nothing more than to wipe that haunted expression away. She’d show him s
he wouldn’t serve them anything dangerous. Shifting the tray to her hip, she grabbed his spoon and helped herself to a mouthful of his stew, swallowing it down. She looked back up and froze. His gaze was transfixed on her mouth.

  She swallowed again, feeling the warmth of the stew intensely.

  Her pulse banged through the veins along her throat. She couldn’t move, could barely draw in a breath, her lips as captured by his gaze as if he’d leaned close and kissed her.

  A throbbing tingle came to life low in her belly and when his gaze lifted from her mouth to her eyes, the tingle erupted into a rattling burst.

  Grinning, he took the spoon from her nerveless fingers, flooding her with more warmth when their hands met, that seemed to build inside as she watched him scoop up stew and bring it to his own lips.

  Her mouth went dry. She swallowed when he swallowed. The movement of his Adam’s apple in his strong throat column mesmerized her.

  The tray tilted. She nearly lost all the slices of bread.

  For the love of—! Had she never seen a man’s throat working before?

  She tore her gaze away.

  She should leave, get out of this room. Yet she hadn’t really come in here to bring them their dinner.

  Composing herself, she lowered and set the tray of thick bread slices in the middle of the men. “May I sit with you for a while?”

  The blond man nodded, which she expected. They’d be wanting answers out of her as much as she wanted to learn about them.

  She lowered farther, bringing her knees in, positioning herself so the lanky guy was in her peripheral. She didn’t dare look him straight on just yet. Not when he made her insides melt like snow heated by the sun.

  Miles shifted on his feet, standing between them all and the only exit.

  The weapon’s guy shifted forward to snag a slice of bread, lifting his other hand palm out when Miles edged closer. He took the slice and used it to mop up the remains of his stew before popping it in his mouth. It was almost comical how his eyes slipped closed in bliss. “Oh my…glories—“ the rest of the sentiment was lost amid a second mouthful of Mae’s bread. “This is the softest…” The rest of the sentiment was lost as he chewed with gusto.

  It took only a second for the other two to grab up their slices. Even mister-going-to-stand-all-day lowered to one knee.

  They were almost finished, having eaten quickly once she’d taken a bite first. She should have brought more for men of their size. She didn’t have much time to find out what she wanted to know.

  She smoothed her palms over her knees. “Where did you guys come from?”

  “Here. There.” Weapons guy leaned back and placed his hands on his lean stomach. “We’ve been around. How ‘bout you folks? How long you all been holed up here?”

  Fine. They were going to play it that way. No need to lie about anything they most likely had figured out on their own.

  “Eight months.”

  “Eight?” That seemed to surprise them all going by the way they looked at each other. The same guy, apparently their spokesman, frowned. “Eight months in one place and the Sifts haven’t…”

  He had the grace to not finish the sentence. Eat them. They hadn’t been eaten yet.

  “They’ve tried. We’re not that easy to kill.”

  They weren’t buying it, which in their place, Jewel wouldn’t either. She couldn’t tell them what really had kept the monsters away. She couldn’t tell anyone. And now that Lance was gone, keeping silent was all the more desperate.

  She pulled the silver tray closer to herself. “Look. We really do just want to know about you, what you’re doing in the area. And then if you want, you can go. You can understand that, can’t you? A group like ours has to be cautious.”

  “Sure. We can understand that, what with thieves and militant marauders looking to take any cache they come upon.”

  Jewel tugged the sides of her knitted cap down on her head. “You’re not…?”

  “If we were, would I say so?” Weapons guy’s grin was so happily predatory she could very well believe he was a marauder.

  “I suppose you wouldn’t.” This was getting her nowhere. “How ‘bout we start simple. I’m Jewel and that’s Miles.”

  “All right. You can call me Ethan. That’s Alexander.” He flicked his thumb toward the lanky man at her side and then nodded toward the blond man across from him. “This is Dez.”

  “Ma’am.” Dez tipped his chin.

  Alexander. She wanted so badly to look at him, see how well the name fit to the man. She also wanted to hear him speak again. She’d never heard a voice like his with those slight inflections that sent a heady warmth down to her core. He’d only spoken to her a little when he took his weapons, but she hoped to hear him again. She kept her gaze on Ethan.

  He rolled his shoulders. “So what’s the name of your leader, the older guy who was barking out all the orders?”

  Jewel pressed her lips together. So he went right into interrogating her. Well, if it made him feel in control… Again, she wouldn’t be revealing anything they wouldn’t eventually be told, but truthfully so far all she’d gotten out of them were their names while she kept giving them answers. If this was a game, she was losing.

  But it wasn’t a game to her. She came to them with a purpose and if it meant playing the fool and telling them everything they wanted to know, it was worth it. “Sheppard.”

  Dez set his empty bowl carefully back on the tray. “Why isn’t Sheppard in here asking questions for himself?

  “He will be.”

  “Making us sweat it out for a while. Well you can tell him we don’t sweat, darlin.”

  “That’s not what he’s doing. I assure you. He had another pressing matter.”

  Three sets of lips curved downward in disbelieving frowns.

  But it was true. The moment they’d gotten back, Sheppard, Hank and Trevor went back out for who knows why. They did that every so often without explanation. She clearly was not in the loop.

  She sighed. She hadn’t learned a thing other than these guys didn’t crack easily, handled themselves and their weapons well—military grade weapons that Sheppard would give his eye-teeth to get his hands on. Nor did she get to hear Alexander’s husky voice again. Well, no matter because whatever else these guys were, they were fighters and survivors, which meant Sheppard would do his best to recruit them. Which also meant they weren’t the people Jewel dared place all her trust in.

  Chapter Two

  Alexander listened to the lock turn in the door, closing them in the room again. Maybe they should have been a little more forthcoming with the girl and she would have stayed longer. After all, their purpose in allowing themselves to be escorted here was to find out about this group of hold outs and bring as many survivors as they could back with them to the lighthouse.

  Right now, what was left of the human race was stronger and safer together.

  Once they determined they weren’t some part of a larger radical marauder group, they’d tell them everything anyway. They didn’t appear as such, not with the women and children being in the majority. Most militant crazies didn’t keep children around as they were little more than useless mouths to provide for.

  No, that wasn’t who these people were, yet something didn’t feel right.

  He frowned at the electrical outlet plate still screwed into the wall, forgotten when the room had been stripped of anything that could be turned into a weapon. There was no electrical current anymore, but any soldier worth his salt could rip the wiring out and make himself a garrote to choke someone.

  Dez came up beside him. “What do you think?”

  “About the girl?”

  “No Romeo.” Dez flashed a rare grin. “About this situation.”

  “But since you asked…” Ethan pounced, pulling Alexander’s neck into a headlock between the vee of his bent elbow. “What do you think about the girl?”

  “She was holding something back.” Alexander shoved at Ethan unti
l he let his hold up. “I don’t trust her. Them.”

  Ethan grinned. “I think you made her nervous, is all.”

  “Me? You’re daft. She barely looked at me.”

  “Exactly.” Ethan slapped a hand over Alexander’s shoulder. “She likes you.”

  Alexander shrugged Ethan’s hand off. “What? How would you know anything about it? Did she pass you a note after school?”

  “Testy.” Ethan held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying that could be useful.”

  Annoyed, Alexander looked to Dez for help, but Dez merely shrugged.

  “You too?” Alexander was incredulous. “No.”

  Ethan’s grin expanded. “Suit yourself.”

  “Ladies, ladies, put the nail polish away already so we can get back to the matter at hand?” Dez tapped the handle of the empty pistol in his shoulder holster. “How do you want to play this?”

  “We give them the truth.” Alexander made the decision.

  Dez nodded, considering. “About everything except yourself.” He cupped his calloused palm along the back of Alexander’s neck. “We can’t let on how important you are.”

  Right. Alexander frowned. The so-called savior of what was left of humanity. His men would swaddle him in cotton and hide him away in the basement of the lighthouse if they had their way.

  “I’m serious, Alexander.”

  “No one would ever think otherwise about you,” he sniped.

  “Alexander…” Dez snarled.

  “Yes. Fine. Good idea.” He might be the leader of the largest gathering of human survivors, but there was no mistaking who was in charge while they were out in the field. It was smart, it really was, except for the fact both Ethan and Dez would throw themselves in the line of fire, or daggered teeth—had done so on countless occasions—to save him.

  Considering he not only could hold his own but was a bluidy sorcerer to boot, their self-sacrificing pish angered him to no end.

  He loved these guys like brothers.

  Dez folded his arms, staring him down.

  “I said aye.” Annoyed, his father’s ancient dialect surfaced in his voice. “We play it loose and by the hip as usual.”