Page 94 of Deception of a Highlander

He followed behind his men, bringing up the rear of their small group. The musty scent of disuse stung his nostrils, and the wooden floor groaned in protest beneath his weight. He trod lightly and curled his way down the winding stairs to keep them from making too much noise—a feat not easily done. From what he could see below, the stairs appeared to run abruptly into a wall. Another hidden door.

Mariel stopped and turned around to face them once more. Her face was serious, her mouth drawn in a tight line. Her sharp stare met his. “Ready?” she mouthed.

Energy shot through Kieran’s body, and his breathing intensified. He would win this fight, and Mariel would remain safe. He gave a swift nod, and she shoved the trap door open.

Light flooded the stairwell, along with the heavy scent of fried eggs and thick slab pork. After days of oatcakes and hard cheese, Kieran’s stomach loosed a frustrated growl of protest. He quashed his hunger. Food would come later.

The sound of clattering dishes and surprised cries swept into the stairwell as his men filtered out.

Kieran followed closely behind, dashing out into the brilliant chaos of a large dining hall. A long table stood in the center with its contents in total disarray, the diners locked in various stages of battle. Some were engaged in combat, some crouched beneath the table, and some already lay dead.

Though caught off guard, they were hardly defenseless. Blades were flicked out of hidden pockets, and pistols were drawn from vests and belts. Of those still alive, Kieran guessed there were at least thirty men against his ten. Regardless, the battle would be quick against the mercenaries, most of whom were poorly trained.

Kieran disarmed a man beside him before the offensive weapon could be fired. The weapon clattered uselessly to the ground, and the man was easily dispatched. As they all would be.

Mariel moved among his men, slowly distancing herself from the others. Kieran narrowed his eyes, keeping close watch of her.

She swung her leg at a short bald man’s head, and he crumpled to the floor. She slipped something from her pocket and tucked it into the fallen man’s mouth, her gaze locked on the wall opposite her. She flicked a glance around the room before she rose and slid silently against the back wall.

Kieran stalked closer. One final look behind her, and she slipped inside a false door, leaving his men to fight her battle.

A low, frustrated growl vibrated in Kieran’s throat, all but choking him with the bitterness of disappointment. For all her heartfelt words, she had lied to them all.

* * *

Mariel crept along the hallway, her steps silent upon the lush carpet. How foolish she had once been to think herself fortunate to live in so rich a home.

A movement caught her eye, and her heart leapt. Was it him? She forced down the frantic burn of hatred.

He had eased from the battle almost before it began, not that he’d be difficult to miss in his sunshine-yellow silk suit. How like Aaron to be a coward to the end.

Today he would pay for the lives he’d ruined with his greed and manipulation.

Another movement flickered to her left around the corner. She drew a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Her hands trembled. She couldn’t have that. No, she needed to be calm, focused. The blue silk wallpaper whispered against her back as she approached. She turned the corner, her body tensed in preparation for what she must do.

A force slammed against her forehead, and suddenly, she was on her back. Her mind reeled in a fog of confusion. She tried to pull herself into a sitting position, but her limbs were too heavy. A meaty fist snagged the front of her shirt and lifted her so high her feet dangled above the ground. Pain squeezed her wrist, and the dagger she held was easily plucked from her fist.

Then the smell hit her. Oh God, the smell of him…death and sweat.

Mariel felt the scream ripping from her throat and heard it echo off the walls around her. Her clawed hands raked against him but to no avail.

A grin spread over his rubbery lips. “I see you remember me.” Laughter wheezed from his chest and crested into a thundering cough.

Her feet kicked against him, but his soft body absorbed the blows. Desperation and disgust fueled her need for escape and set her heart pounding. Her teeth sank against the grittiness of his hand until the putrid sting of his sweat on her tongue mingled with the taste of blood.

He howled in rage and loosened his grip.

She didn’t waste time to see his reaction. Once her feet landed solidly on the floor, she sprinted down the hall. His footsteps thundered behind her, but she dared not pause to look back.

She rounded a corner and felt her foot yanked from beneath her. Her body slammed to the floor and sent her world spinning once more. A viselike grip caught her ankle, but she was still not done fighting. She turned toward the man who haunted her dreams and slammed her free foot against his face. The sickening crunch of his nose beneath her heel was a fleeting moment of victory.

Blood exploded from his nose, and his grip tightened.

“You bitch,” he snarled. “You’ll pay for that when Aaron is done with you.”

He grabbed her free foot and flipped her onto her stomach before he lumbered to a standing position. With a great tug, he pulled her down the hall toward a large door. Her shirt slid against the floor and rose to her back. Mariel’s palms skimmed over the silky fibers of the rug in a futile effort to grasp at anything to still her forward progress. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest. She knew that door well and pictured in her mind’s eye the overstuffed leather chairs and dark wood furnishings of Aaron’s office.

The door banged open, and the familiar, pungent scent of Aaron’s heavy perfume hit her nostrils, bringing with it a wave of memories best left forgotten. Thick, soft arms wrapped around her, and warmth ran down her shoulder where his broken nose trickled with fresh blood.