Page 37 of Highlander's Escaped Prisoner
“We will discuss that tomorrow amongst other things, Gregor,” Roy answered. Then he raised a finger in a gesture of warning. “There will be no more bloodshed between our families.”
“We said that last time we met,” Gregor pointed out, “and look what happened.”
“Well, it will not happen again!” Roy barked, his face thunderous. “I do not want outright war, Gregor, and I am sure you do not either. Come to the council tomorrow.”
“I will,” Gregor offered his hand to Roy. “And this time, we will have peace. Now, I need to speak to young Logan Crosbie. Do you know where he is?”
“I know where his father is,” Roy answered, frowning. What did Gregor Blair want with the Crosbies?
They found Jamie in the guard room in the keep playing cards with some of his friends. He looked guilty at having been caught relaxing.
“’Tis my day off, M’Lairds,” he explained.
Roy laughed and waved the explanation away. “You need to rest, Jamie. Have you seen Logan?”
Jamie shook his head. “No, M’Laird,” he replied. “But he is likely out ridin’ that new mare o’ his. Worships that beast!” He tutted, and the lairds laughed.
“Tell him I wanted to see him,” Gregor said, then turned to Roy. “I will see you tomorrow, M’Laird.”
Bryce was becoming impatient and more than a little worried. It was twilight, and Nessa had been away for hours. Bryce had begun to pace the clearing in front of the trees, convinced that something was not quite right, and the more time went by, the worse the feeling became until he could stand no more. Nessa was in trouble—he knew it. The guard beside him had fallen asleep, and Bryce made up his mind. He was convinced that Nessa needed him, and he was not going to let her down. He would be her champion, now and forever.
He ducked into the tunnel and began to move along it, hoping that he could find his way and that the stub of candle he had left would last until he found her. He seemed to have gone formiles and was sure that he had lost his way when he heard it: a woman’s voice screaming for help. He could not make out any words, but the sound sped up his heartbeat and spurred him on.
“Nessa! Nessa!” he called at the top of his voice. He could not tell whether it was her or not, but whoever the woman was, she needed him.
The noise was coming from above him and to the right, and he followed it until he came to a panel in the wall that slid outward to his touch. Now he could hear the words.
“Get off, you swine!” Nessa screamed, just as Bryce emerged through the wall. Bryce felt a blaze of rage shoot through him as he took in the sight of Logan on top of Nessa, his face a mask of lust as he gazed at her before he bent down to kiss her.
“Fight me! Please fight me, my lovely,” he growled, laughing. “There is no pleasure without pain.”
Nessa turned her head away, but he caught her chin and forced her head back to face him.
His eyes were dark with an evil desire that chilled Nessa’s blood. “Kiss me, or I will punch you as you punched me,” he growled.
Nessa let her body go limp, and he bent down to clamp his mouth over hers, but when she was sure that their lips were together, she bit down as hard as she could on Logan’s lower lip.
“There is no pleasure without pain!” she reminded him, roaring into his ear.
He screamed in agony, blood streaming from his mouth. As he clamped his hand over the wound, she rolled sideways so that he was flat on the bed, then inched sideways a little more until he toppled over the edge to land on the bare wooden floorboardswith a painful thump.
“Let me go, you swine!” she roared. “Or my father will tear you limb from limb!” Nessa was unsure of what to do next. Her hands and feet were still tied, so she used the only weapon she had left—her mouth.
“Help me! Help me!” she screamed, again and again, until her lungs felt that they might burst. She knew that it was probably futile, but she had to try.
Logan was getting to his feet painfully slowly, but there was a deadly purpose in his eyes.
“You told me to fight!” Nessa spat, then her eyes widened as she looked at the shape that had appeared just over Logan’s shoulder. “I am following your orders.”
Logan frowned as Nessa’s expression changed. He turned, but it was too late as an arm reached from behind and grabbed him in a stranglehold, then began to squeeze more and more tightly until Logan’s face began to turn crimson. Then, just when Nessa was sure that he was about to fall to his knees, Logan drove both of his elbows backward into Bryce’s stomach.
“Take that, big man!” he growled.
Bryce staggered backward and hugged his stomach, loosening his arm from its chokehold on Logan’s throat. He was almost too winded to stand up straight, but he managed it somehow.
However, Logan was not finished. He bunched his hand into a fist and struck Bryce under his chin, snapping his head back. Bryce overbalanced and fell on his backside on the floor, and Logan threw back his head and hooted with laughter.
“Look at you, you big girl’s blouse!” he scoffed, standing over him and howling with laughter. “Not so clever now, are you? You know who killed Gerald Guthrie? I did!” He thumbed himself in the middle of his chest. “Do you know who whipped you in Roy Guthrie’s dungeon? I did! Do you know who made sure you spent seven years in jail? I did! And do you know who is going to make sure you don’t say a word about it? I am!”
