Page 113 of Dark Victory

MacNeil ignored him, walking outside into Melvaig’s central courtyard, which was still in embers.

Macleod picked himself up and ran after him. “We’re friends.”

MacNeil looked at him sadly. “I canna help ye, Guy. ’Tis forbidden.”

It began to sink in. He had no power. He was trapped in the sixteenth century with no way to return to Blayde and his time—with no way to return to Tabitha and no way to ever help her survive the Melvaig fires. “I have to get back!”

“I am sorry,” MacNeil said softly. “I had such hope fer ye.”

“MacNeil! Send me back!” he begged.

“Welcome to hell.” Grimly, MacNeil blasted him with his power.

And Macleod was flung backward in time—by a mere hour.

TABBY MOANED. But the world stopped spinning and she realized she clutched a rough stone floor. Breathing hard, she looked up and realized she was in a circular tower room. She tensed with dread, recalling everything. Kristin had hurled her through time.

“Yes, Tabitha, you are in Melvaig’s tower.” Kristin laughed softly.

Tabby became aware of the amulet, pulsing and warm against her cleavage. She touched it, finding comfort, and got warily to her feet. Kristin stood there, appearing terribly amused. Her heart sank. “Is it June nineteenth, 1550?”

Kristin’s smile widened. “Actually, my darling, it is June first, 1550.” She walked past her and paused in the doorway. “Don’t bother trying to escape. The guards have been ordered to stop you by beheading you if need be. Although I much prefer being allowed to torture you to death myself. And I won’t be long. I want to tell my mother that you’re here.”

Tabby ran to the doorway as Kristin walked out onto the landing, where two soldiers stood. “Let me guess. Your mother is Criosaidh?”

“How clever you are!” Kristin laughed softly.

As a guard started to close the door in her face, Tabby put her body between it and the wall. “Wait! Why are you doing this? Why do you want me to die? What have I done to you…to her?”

Kristin’s smile vanished. “In eighteen more days, my mother dies here in the fires because of you.”

Had Allie been right?

“I win?”

Kristin’s face filled with fury. “No, you don’t win. I won’t let you win!”

Tabby decided that now was not the time to try to decipher what would happen—and the fact was that she had seen herself die in the fire.

“I was five years old the day you and my mother had your last battle here,” Kristin snarled. “She died in my brother’s arms, horrifically burned, while I begged her to live. I am not a powerful witch, Tabitha, not like my mother. Unfortunately, my father was just your average mortal. I have waited hundreds of years to find the power to gain my revenge on you. But I have that power now.”

Suddenly Tabby thought she felt her sister, across time. “How did you find that power, Kristin?”

Kristin laughed. “I have my source! He is all-powerful and answers only to Satan!”

Tabby sensed the enormity of that evil and it sickened her.

“He gave me the ability to leap. He gave me the longevity I needed. I decided to hunt you while you were weak and innocent, naive and unsuspecting, in the twenty-first century, before you became as powerful as you’ll be in the sixteenth century.”

Tabby wished she did not believe her, but she did. A terrible source of evil was out there, and Kristin was hunting her to avenge her mother. Now, she understood the ghost’s burning hatred and malevolence.

This had to end soon.

Tabby trembled. “You’ve brought me here to murder me. You can’t change history, Kristin, not if it is written correctly. History can only be changed if it went awry, if it has veered from Destiny.”

Kristin started to laugh. “Oh, dear Tabitha, we live to change history.”

“What are you talking about?” Tabby cried.