Page 108 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
Terror knifed through Johanna. Gently, she released Laurel and palmed the brooch. One touch of her thumb, and she’d deploy the blade.
She moved closer, putting herself between Connor and the countess. “You’ve done enough to traumatize the girl. At this rate, she won’t be able to remember anything her father taught her. There’s no need for further violence.”
“I abhor unfinished business.” The countess studied her for a heartbeat, then another. “You think I won’t kill you?”
“Quite the contrary. You’re spoiling for the chance.”
“I’ve shown extraordinary patience.” The countess’s interest settled on Connor. He’d opened his eyes, a pain-riddled murmur on his lips. “Such a prime specimen. Pity I must finish—”
Johanna’s thumb grazed the brooch. The blade sprang free. The length of a finger. Sharp as a stiletto.
With a sharp twist of her body, she drove the knife forward. Toward the vulnerable spot in the countess’s throat.
With cobra-fast reflexes, the countess dodged the thrust. The blade arced down. Slicing flesh. Gouging her cheek.
The countess froze. A shriek of primal rage tore from her throat.
“You little bitch!”
Johanna lunged. She needed the countess’s pistol. She needed that weapon. To protect Laurel. And Connor. Fury she’d never dreamed she possessed fueled her strength.
“I’ll kill you,” the countess screamed.
Johanna seized her hands. Damn the shrew. The countess’s grip on the gun did not ease.
The derringer had held two bullets. If she couldn’t seize the weapon, she’d spend its final shell. With a hard twist, Johanna jammed the barrel down, toward the floor. With a rough cry, she forced the trigger back.
A bullet plowed into the carpet. Wrenching free, the countess retreated. Eyes wide with madness, her attention darted to Laurel. An evil smile telegraphed her intentions. She snatched up her dagger.
No! God no!
Johanna whipped around. She could not let the witch get to Laurel.
“No!” The word tore from her lungs as strong, wiry arms yanked her back. She struggled against the manacle of Ross’s hands. “Let me go!”
Another shot roared in her ears.
The countess collapsed. Limp as a rag doll. Blood pooled around the limbs splayed over the fine carpet.
“It’s better this way.” Cranston knelt to close the countess’s sightless eyes. “You scarred her. She couldn’t live with that.”
Ross dropped his hold. Johanna enfolded Laurel in her arms. “I…I had no choice.”
Cranston shrugged. “I couldn’t let her kill the girl. If what you said is true, the brat might be a valuable resource. And if you’ve deceived me, I will remedy the situation when the time comes.”
Johanna held Laurel close. “She’s seen so much…you must give her time.”
“That will not be a problem.” He watched her, seeming to study her reactions. “But once again, you’ve made a fool of me. That brooch is nothing more than a weapon. One of MacMasters’s contraptions.”
“I did not lie. It is the stone.” She pulled air into her lungs, steadying her frayed nerves. “Put to good use.”
“I’ll determine that soon enough.” He motioned to Ross. “Take the girl away. She’s seen enough for one day.”
“No!” Laurel’s arms wrapped around Johanna, frantic as a person adrift clinging to a buoy.
Johanna whispered against her ear. “Run. Fast as you can. Hide. Be clever, darling.”
Laurel sniffed back fresh tears. She pressed a kiss to Johanna’s cheek, then took off as if the devil nipped her heels.
