Page 35 of Healing the Highland Sinner
“Aye. We willnae kill him,” the first man confirmed. “But Laird Sinclair didnae say we couldnae make him hurt.”
As the men continued laughing amongst each other, Ellair took them by surprise, launching himself into the middle of them with a speed nobody expected. The first man’s belly was sliced open, his blood and innards spilling out before he’d even stopped laughing.
The three remaining men quickly recovered and launched themselves at him. Reacting on instinct, Rosalind sheathed her dagger, then darted forward and grabbed the fallen man’s sword. She drove the point of her blade through the back of the leg of the man nearest to her. He threw his head back and screamed as Rosalind’s borrowed sword erupted through the front of his leg, sending a spray of blood splashing onto the ground before him.
He spun around, agony warring with rage upon his face but Rosalind, who’d remembered what Ellair had taught her and had already yanked the sword from his leg, slashed viciously, opening up the man’s throat. He dropped his own blade and clutched at his neck, his blood, thick and crimson, squeezing between his fingers, and fell to his knees.
The other two men wheeled around and stared at her, their eyes fixed on the bloodied blade in her hand and their lips curled back in a sneer. With a cry of rage, the two men rushed at her, raising their swords to strike. Heeding another of Ellair’s lessons, Rosalind used their momentum against them, deftly slipping to the side, and let them pass her like enraged bulls. She spun around and quickly drove her sword between one man’s shoulder blades.
The man threw his arms out, dropping his sword with a clatter and threw his head back. He fell backward and though Rosalind tried to yank the blade back as she’d been taught, his momentum carried it down with him.
The last man turned to her with both shock and fury on his face. Rosalind looked down at her hands lamely and felt a rush of panic as she realized she held no weapon.
“Bleedin’ hell,” she muttered.
As the remaining man charged at her, she fumbled for the second dagger on her belt. Before she could pull it though, she felt the wind of something heavy pass by her face, catching a glimpse of silver a moment before the hilt of her dagger sprouted from the middle of the man’s throat. His sword hit the ground with a dull thump and his fingers found the hilt of the dagger.
Choking and gasping, the man stupidly pulled it out, sending a river of crimson spilling down the front of him before he fell to his knees then onto his face and went still in the scarlet pool that was growing around him. Once she’d recovered from her shock, she turned to Ellair, who was leaning heavily on the crates, a crooked grin on his face.
“Kennin’ how tae throw a blade can help get ye out of a sticky situation,” he said.
It was such a ridiculous thing to say, all Rosalind could do was laugh.
“Grab those swords. We’ll take ‘em with us just in case,” he said. “And we should probably get out of here before Sinclair returns.”
“Aye. Good idea.”
She grabbed two of the swords from the ground, keeping one for herself and handing the other to Ellair. After that, she let him lean against her as they hobbled out of the warehouse and made their way to the alleyways, where they could lose themselves and disappear from view.
She feared that Sinclair would not take this lightly. That there would be some form of retribution. But not for her. For Blaine. It was a thought that sent a cold chill through her heart. But she’d been right about something being wrong, and she wasn’t going to leave Ellair to his fate. If something worse had befallen him, because she had given the order for him to go, Rosalind would have never forgiven herself. Worse, it would have shattered her heart like glass. She’d done what was necessary. That was all that mattered.
“Ye acquitted yerself well back there,” he said. “Very, very well.”
She smiled warmly. “I had a good teacher,” she replied. “Speaking of which, are ye goin’ tae teach me how tae throw a blade then?”
He chuckled. “Of course I will,” he said with a mischievous smirk on his battered face. “Once I feel comfortable ye might nae accidentally hit me.”
“Beast.”
They laughed together as they made their way through the alleyways and side streets, heading for her compound, the dark shadows of the night swallowing them whole.
CHAPTER 16
Ellair grimaced. Not just from the pain of ten thousand wounds inflicted upon him by Sinclairs men, but by the sound of Rosalind and Ciar screaming at each other. The big man was understandably upset that Rosalind had deceived him and snuck out to rescue Ellair. Although Ciar worked for Rosalind and answered to her, their relationship was a close one. More like brother and sister than employer and employee. And he took his job protecting her very seriously. It upset him when she was careless and reckless. It was something Ellair understood.
He had never intended to be the source of such discord between them. The sound of something crashing and breaking in the other room made him jump in his seat—a move he immediately regretted.
“Bleedin’ hell,” he muttered.
He understood Ciar’s fear and frustration. Rosalind had deceived him and slipped away to rescue him. In the big man’splace, Ellair would likely be just as upset. His job was to protect her. But Ellair understood it was far more than just a job for the man. He cared for Rosalind and the thought of anything happening to her tore a hole right through his soul. It was a sentiment that Ellair understood all too well.
Selfishly though, Ellair was glad she had. Grateful to her. She’d taken a big risk looking for him and had saved his life. It had also shown a side of her he hadn’t seen before—a fierce and capable warrior. He had suspected she had that in her but seeing her in action was something else. She had been a lion.
The other thing that had been confirmed through his misadventure was that she was not workingwithSinclair. She was workingforhim, which was entirely different. Even more different still was that she was not working for him willingly. Everything she did for that bastard was being coerced from her. They held some bit of leverage over her head and were using that to force her to do their bidding. What that leverage was, he didn’t know yet. He hadn’t been able to tease it out of them between beatings. But he knew it existed.
Ellair feared that Laird Gunn and Laird MacAulay would see that as a distinction without a difference, but he was going to make his case for Rosalind anyway. He would make them see none of this was her doing. That she didn’t want to work for Sinclair and was being made to do it against her will. If those two men were as just and fair as he believed them to be, they would understand. They would absolve her of any guilt when the final reckoning came. And it would come soon. He just had to get a letter to Laird Gunn.
The door behind him opened then slammed shut so hard, the walls of the small house rattled. Rosalind stormed in, huffing and puffing, and cursing up a blue streak under her breath. He was a man of war, used to being around other men of war, and even he had never heard some of the curses that had slipped from her lips.
