Page 71 of Treachery in the Highlands
"Fulvio," I whisper, remembering the name Joey used.The burly man at the front must be him, his eyes cold and calculating as they sweep the area.
The clan members bristle at the intrusion, their hands moving to grasp their weapons, though they don't wield them yet.I can see the confusion and anger in their eyes, but also a flicker of fear at these strange outsiders.
"Who are ye, and what business do ye have here?"my father's voice booms across the hall, silencing the murmurs.
Fulvio steps forward, a predatory smile on his face."We're here for something that doesn't belong to you, old man.Step aside, and no one gets hurt."
Joey tenses beside my father, his hand inching toward an unusual weapon I hadn't noticed before.It's black and L-shaped, bulky too.Our eyes meet briefly, and I see a flash of recognition.He remembers what I saw in the future.
"Rachel," my mother's urgent whisper catches my attention."Rachel, stay close to me and the aunts."
I hesitate, torn between the desire to stay and help, and the knowledge that I need to find the book future Joey had mentioned.It might be the MacTaggart witches' book.
"Mum," I hiss, leaning close, "I need to go back to Dùndubhan immediately.It's urgent.No time to explain."
"You can't go anywhere by yourself, Rachel.Not with these thugs here who just showed up."
"I said step aside," Fulvio snarls, almost seeming to gnash his teeth like an angry animal.
My father stands his ground, drawing himself up to his full, imposing height."I suggest ye leave now, before things get ugly."
Hamish and several other clan members gather round our wee family, encircling us in a protective manner.They bar their arms over their chests, just as Father and Joey also do.
If I were to search the entire castle from top to bottom, including the moat and the garderobe channel, then mayhap...No, it's impossible.
The book does not exist in this century.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Joey
How the hell did Fulvio and his fellow goons find me here?In the frigging past?Oddly, I experience a brief sense of déjà vu as if I've seen things I couldn't have seen.Sure, that makes complete sense.You're losing your ever-loving mind, Finnegan.
Time travel will do that to a guy.
I have my arms strapped over my chest, just like all the Scots who've gathered around us.Kieran has a sword, and I have a dirk.I assume the other Scots have weapons as well.But Fulvio and his goons have firearms.They could mow us all down in one fell swoop without even breaking a sweat.
Guns trump swords.I'm sure of that.
I glance at Kieran, hoping his decades of battle experience might offer some insight into our current predicament.His eyes are narrowed as he assesses the situation with a warrior's calm that I can only envy.
"Ye best be dropping those strange weapons," Kieran growls, his deep voice carrying across the tense silence."Ye've no business here in our lands."
Fulvio's lip curls into a sneer."Oh, we have business all right.Withhim."
He jerks his chin in my direction.
Great.Just great.I've managed to drag my twenty-first-century mob problems into sixteenth-century Scotland.This is not how I pictured my day going when I woke up this morning.I figured I'd get razzed by a bunch of muscular Scots and maybe get dunked in the loch.But this...
"Listen, Fulvio," I begin, "I don't know how you got here, but this isn't the place for...whatever this is.These people have nothing to do with our beef."
Fulvio's eyes narrow, his grip tightening on his pistol."You think I care about these savages?You owe us, Finnegan, and we're here to collect.No matter where---or when---you try to hide."
I feel Kieran tense beside me.He clearly does not appreciate being called a savage.I throw him a warning glance, silently pleading for him to stay calm.The last thing we need is for him to charge at the bad buys with nothing but a sword.The mob guys have guns.
"Okay, okay," I say, raising my hands slowly."Let's talk about this.Just you and me.But first, I want to know how you got here."
Fulvio chuckles darkly."An Bodachgave us a lift.He's got a major hard-on for destroying your girlfriend's daddy.And I've got one for slitting your throat, Joey boy."
