Page 12 of Desiring the Highland Laird
But she was focused solely on Chloe. Her sister looked at her, their eyes met, and she understood. She had to keep going.
As she made the decision to start back up the stairs, one of the assailants was on her. She yelped and leapt up to the next step as he reached for her.
“Grab her!” the other man ordered, his voice low and gruff.
As she leapt, the man directly below her wrapped a hand around her ankle. She fell forward again, this time bashing her chin against the stair. She tasted the sudden metallic tang of blood in her mouth and knew she had bitten her tongue.
In an awkward move, she twisted and kicked out with her free foot. Her heel connected with the man’s forehead. He grunted.
“Dinnae fight me, lass,” he said in a deep voice.
Something familiar about the sound of his voice made her stop. She stared down at him, stunned.
“Bruce?” she whispered.
His steely blue eyes lifted to hers and in them she saw pain and anguish.
“Give me the stone, lass, and I willna hurt ye or yer sister.”
Shock rolled through her as her brows drew together. “What?” The word exploded out of her in a roughened whisper.
“The stone in yer hand.” He nodded to her hand still closed into a fist.
She didn’t understand how he knew she had the stone.
“Och, aye, it calls to us,” he said, as if sensing her confusion. “Dinnae ye hear it?”
Fear pounded through her with such a heated rush, she saw black pinpricks behind her eyes. She tried to blink them away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said finally. She kicked him again. This time, hard enough to make him loosen his grip on her ankle.
It was all she needed. She bolted up the stairs on her hands and knees. When she was at the top, she crawled across the cool tile floor. Bruce was right behind her and closing in.
She climbed to her feet and ran hard, thankful she had ditched the heels in the bathroom. She ran past the balcony café into an exhibit featuring Asia and Ancient Egypt. She hid behind a statue of a samurai, trying to catch her breath. Her neck, back, and face were coated in a slick sheen of sweat.
And yet she still managed to clutch the stone in her hand. She opened her fingers to look down at it. The jagged edges left deep indentations in her palm where she’d held it tight. The stone still hummed.
Was that the stone calling to him? Is that what he meant?
“Evie?” he called.
She stopped breathing.
“Come on, lassie. Dinnae make this more difficult than it has to be.”
She had to do something before he found her. The problem was if she moved, she would be out in the open. He’d see her. Then he would be on her in an instant.
The humming got louder. She glanced down at the stone, wishing it would stop. Then she noticed something odd. The lines of the triquetra had started to glow.
Unbidden, the image of Dundale Castle burst through her mind. An urging pounded through her to touch the stone. To swipe her finger over the marking.
“Found ye.” Bruce was next to her, a gun pointed at her. He held his other hand out to her. “Hand it over, lass.”
“I don’t think so.”
Her thumb swiped over the stone and the next thing she knew it was as though the floor dropped out from under her feet and she went tumbling, tumbling, tumbling through the air. Thankfully, she had managed to close her hand around the stone. As she fell, the air was sucked out from her lungs and a burning sensation took up there. She was suffocating, as though she were underwater trying to breathe. Her lungs were being crushed by a weight she did not understand.
Then everything went black.
