Highlander's Kiss (Clan Matheson #1)

Arabel touched the orchid’s velvety soft petals, her bright aura clouding over and emitting a soulfully sad tune that tugged at Julia’s heart. “We’ll never forget them, Julia, and one day we’ll make certain Colin MacKenzie pays for our parents’ unjust death. He cannae be allowed to slaughter innocent people and get away with it.”


She would ensure he paid for it too. Her own aura, usually a melding of rainbow colors, now held a mournful black haze. She ran her fingers over the colors flickering on her arms and upper body and settled it back down. She’d never allow the MacKenzie to take another of her kin’s lives, would seek retribution, for both her and Arabel, somehow and some way. She rose to her feet and drew Arabel up along with her. Across the other side of the loch, several miles away and not visible from here, lay the MacKenzie’s lair. White caps rode the heavy swell of the sea, the rising storm gaining in momentum, just as the storm of despair did which raged right in her heart.

“Oh.” Arabel touched her head. “Finlay calls to me along our merged link.” Finlay had recently arrived here from the future with his brothers, Iain and Kirk, the three identical warrior brothers known as the ‘power of three.’ Their arrival had fulfilled a prophecy Nessa had spoken over twenty years ago, and along with their fae skilled mates, they were a force to be reckoned with. Finlay had discovered Arabel was his chosen one, a match their mischievous Fae Angel of Love had instigated when she’d first opened a portal and brought the ‘power of three’ into their time.

Julia adored Finlay, considered him a wonderful new brother. From the moment her sister had joined with him, she’d witnessed the telltale sign of their auras tugging toward each other’s, just as those who were soul bound did.

“You’re not returning to the future already are you?” She’d miss her sister and Finlay terribly when it was time for them to return to Finlay’s time. Aye, she’d struggle to survive the separation. Goodness. Just the thought of her sister soon leaving sent her dismal mood spiraling downhill even further.

“Nay, we’ll be here for some time. Finlay gave Uncle Gilleoin his word he’d remain at the keep with Kirk to care for our clan while he traveled to Stirling.” Gilleoin had been summoned to Stirling Castle by William, the King of Scots, and he’d left with his son and the seer of their clan, hers and Arabel’s grandmother, Nessa. So too Iain and his mate, Isla, had traveled with them, the two so eager to see all that they could of this time while they were here.

“What does Finlay need?”

“He said Cherub would like to see you, that she’s waiting at the sea-gate landing and would like us to return.”

“I wonder what Cherub would like to see me about?” It must be important. Cherub wouldn’t have asked her to come otherwise. The wind whipped Julia’s long golden hair about her waist as she turned toward home and followed the curve of the bay to where the House of Clan Matheson rose like a sentinel, its massive gray stone turrets and towering walls topped with battlements and double the guardsmen roaming the ramparts. ’Twas her sanctuary, and that of her clan’s as well. Never would she allow the MacKenzie to take their home from them.

Along the sea-gate landing next to two moored birlinns, Cherub stood with her hands raised to the sky, her cherry colored gown with its cinched bodice making her a bright beacon of color. The Fae Angel of Love controlled the air element, could halt the wind or send it churning if she so desired. She could also cloak her form and become unseen to another, or if she wished, so too she could become as one with the very air itself and take on a mist form.

“I’m no’ sure, but we’d best be away since Cherub awaits.” Arabel brushed her hands against her forest-green skirts then crossed to her horse and untethered it from a low tree branch.

Julia collected her own mare, mounted and with the reins in hand, slapped her knees into her animal’s flanks and rode back toward home. Bent low over her mount, she rode beside her sister along the high trail veering steeply downward toward the bay.

Arabel arched a challenging brow at her. “Do you care for a race? It might help clear our minds.”

“Always. Catch me if you can,” she challenged right back. Never one to allow her sister to win a race, Julia tucked herself tighter against her horse, her gown’s cream skirts beating against her legs as she urged her mare faster and whizzed along the trail. Stones scattered along the gravelly track, flew over the cliff’s verge and rapped down the rock face before disappearing into the churning, watery depths below.

“Cheat!” Arabel yelled and laughed and pushed her horse harder.

“How does one cheat when riding a horse?” She galloped down the trail and along the grassy verge of the loch and as she arrived at the sea-gate, a mere horse-head in front of Arabel, she slowed her mount and brought it to a halt. With her mare snorting frosty air, she rubbed its neck, tossed one leg over the saddle and—