Page 120 of Dark Seduction

The riders came closer still. It was as if they knew where she was.

Claire wished she had the power to become invisible. She hid at the base of the pine, praying.

The first dozen riders crashed into the forest.

Claire saw a pair of men heading directly toward her. A wave of ice swept over her as the riders galloped through the wood, passing by her so closely their horses’ hooves shot clods of dirt at her arms and face. And then they were gone, the forest silent, the hills empty.

Claire stopped praying, and quickly thanked whoever had been listening for his, her or their help. She collapsed against the tree trunk, panting and in disbelief. Somehow, with the help of the Ancients, they had not discovered her.

She was soaking wet, freezing cold and scared out of her mind. And she was lost.

Malcolm, she thought, suddenly aching for him. I’m lost. I need you.

There was only silence. Claire listened acutely now for him, but she heard nothing. The riders gone, she stood, walking out of the woods. And as she finally paused on a low grassy ridge, the sky began to clear.

Still thunderously gray, she glimpsed the darker steel of the ocean below, somewhere. She had to cross the hills first.

Claire, where are you?

Claire froze. Had she just heard Malcolm?

Malcolm! Help me! I’m lost!

She strained to hear, but there was only silence. Claire started across the hills, and as she did so, the sun appeared in the gray sky. It was faint, but the promise was there, and Claire realized she was heading southwest.

The Highlands were southwest.

Malcolm was southwest, somewhere.

MALCOLM STIFFENED. Claire was lost, but she wasn’t hurt. And she was alone. Somehow, she had escaped Moray.

He felt her now. He turned to face the northeast.

Royce came galloping up to him, leading his charger. “Ye have found her?”

Malcolm nodded. “I dinna need the charger. See him home, Ruari.”

“Where is she?”

“She be near Tor.”

CLAIRE REACHED the edge of the rolling hills and cried out. Below her, the drop perhaps a hundred feet, was one final plateau. A circle of giant stones faced her. Beyond, she saw black rock beaches and the steel waters of the ocean.

Claire began scrambling down to the standing stones. She had never been to the Orkneys, but to the best of her knowledge, no standing stones had ever been discovered there. She stumbled and tripped as she took a steep, rocky trail down to the field. Claire ran the short distance to the first towering black stone, which was the size of four or five men. And then she paused, overcome and awed.

She touched the stone. It was ice-cold.

Claire realized she had been hoping to find holiness in this place. Demons would not enter a holy place. She walked past the first stone into the circle and stood still, trying to find the Ancients, God or even any unknown pagan gods there. She began to despair. The chapel at the Sanctuary had been filled with power and grace. This circle was only that, a circle of tall stones. The gods, like mankind, had forgotten this place long ago.

Claire wanted to cry. Instead, she knew she must not give up. She wasn’t dead and she wasn’t Moray’s prisoner. She crossed the circle, her destination the beach below. And she sensed that she was not alone.

Stiffening with alarm, Claire turned.

For one moment, in the gray day, she thought she saw a figure, ghostlike, standing beyond the circle of stones. “Malcolm?” she breathed.

The light shifted. No one was there.

Claire stared, her heart lurching. She wanted to believe she had seen a ghost, or better yet, an Ancient. And then her eyes widened, for Malcolm appeared as he climbed up from the beach. She cried out, rushing toward him. He saw her and scaled the ledge. Running to her, he pulled her against his chest, relief written all over his face.