Page 108 of Dark Victory

Tabby tensed. There were no secrets. “He’ll leave Criosaidh alone. I’ll make sure of it.”

MacNeil was skeptical. “Put a leash on him, then.” He paused, his green eyes suddenly concerned. “They’re so enraged they took his powers from him when he needed them most—and they’ll do so again. I am worried about him.”

Tabby inhaled. She had the certainty that MacNeil rarely worried about anything. “Maybe they don’t know…It was only one time!”

MacNeil laughed mirthlessly. “He’s been defying the gods fer a century. He’s misused his powers time an’ again. He swore to take his vows—but he then goes to change history. He walks a very fine line, Lady Tabitha. An’ whatever he intends next, he’s blocked me from his thoughts. I’d guard him well now—and send him swiftly to Iona, so he can take his vows afore the gods change their mind about him.”

“Okay,” Tabby whispered. That was two threats, not one, she was certain. The gods were going to take his powers from him another time, and maybe, just maybe, refuse to make him a Master of Time.

MacNeil glanced at Nick and Jan. They were staring at him, too. “The Brotherhood is secret fer many great reasons. I dinna care much fer intruders.”

“Nick fights evil with all of his heart and his entire soul. He’s not here to spy. He’s hunting Kristin.”

“Aye, but he has too many questions. We live by the Code, Tabitha. It is clear. We dinna speak openly to Outsiders.” MacNeil gave the duo another cool look and vanished.

Nick said, “Shit.”

TABBY STARED INTO THE bedchamber she shared with Macleod. The moment MacNeil left, he had gotten up from the table and stalked upstairs. Tabby had followed him. “Are you all right?”

He paused, about to unlock the chest at the foot of the bed, and smiled at her. “Ye worry like a wife.”

His eyes were filled with affection and Tabby’s heart hammered. “I love you.”

He knelt and unlocked the chest, then took out the amulet in its cloth wrapping and stood somberly, holding it tightly. “Ye almost died because of me.”

Tabby shook her head. “We don’t know why Criosaidh’s ghost is hunting me, Macleod.”

“She hunts ye because of my war, my vengeance. Dinna ye feel their hatred and fury today? ’Tis worse now than before. ’Twill become worse with every passin’ day.” Anguish strained his face. “Ye almost died!”

“And you almost died today, too!” Tabby cried. “We’re in this together.”

“I brought ye back here,” Macleod exclaimed.

Tabby breathed hard, aware that she must convince him this was not his fault. “The ghost found me in New York,” she reminded him.

“Aye, because ye fought with it at An Tùir-Tara!”

“And that is written, Macleod.”

He shook his head grimly. “When ye can leap, ye can find anyone at any time, Tabitha. Each moment in our lives will always be happenin’. Ye call it parallel dimensions, but the cycle has to have a beginnin’.”

“What are you getting at?” she cried worriedly.

“MacNeil said ye have never been at Blayde till now. I started this when I brought ye here.”

“I’m glad you brought me here!”

He appeared ravaged. “I only wanted to keep ye safe. I failed ye, Tabitha.”

Tabby cried out and rushed to him, suddenly seeing him as a boy on the beach, bloody, sandy and weeping. She embraced him. “Let me help you!”

He jerked. “What did ye say?”

“Let me help you,” she implored. “I love you, Macleod. You have never failed me and you never will! You did not fail your father, your mother, your family. You did your best to defend them—you were only a boy. And you defended me. I am alive because of you!”

“I would die fer ye…I will die fer ye, Tabitha.”

Was he telling her that he loved her? Or was he telling her something else?