“I love you,” he said quietly.
“I love you as well.”
He smiled a little in response, then considered his afternoon. He would listen to whatever his mates had to add to his plan, pretend he’d offered Mairead an unexceptional kiss on his way out the door to go to work, then he would do what needed to be done, simply and perfectly.
He had no other choice.
He circled around the far side of Moraig’s hut just before dusk, Ewan directly behind him. He supposed they were hidden well enough, dressed in black with ski masks over their faces and minimal gear shoved in cargo trouser pockets. If nothing else, they would frighten the holy hell out of a few lads who definitely deserved it. He looked over his shoulder, had a curt nod in answer, then turned his mind to their plan.
It was beautiful in its simplicity and terrifying in the possibility of having a single wrong step send the whole scheme spiraling out of control. He did, however, have absolute faith in his ability to memorize things, and he knew from adventures in the presentthat Ewan was far cannier than he let on. Having Ewan with him in superspy mode was almost the same as having Derrick there.
He heard the low conversings of lads coming up the path to Moraig’s and wondered how he’d been too stupid to notice that the first time. What he also hadn’t interpreted properly was that it was Lachlan himself shouting at them from what he gathered was the edge of the forest. The only thing he remembered properly was that it was indeed Tasgall shrieking that he’d caught sight of the fugitives coming toward them.
Oliver wished he’d been quite a bit less polite in the past to Mairead’s brother.
“Timing still good?” Ewan murmured.
“Still good,” Oliver said quietly. He was very grateful that their closed-circuit communications of earbuds and mics seemed to work in whatever century they found themselves.
And ifthatknowledge wasn’t enough to merit a few ticked boxes in his damned book, he didn’t know what was.
“I’m going to have a proper scream after this,” Ewan muttered.
Oliver smiled to himself, then continued to listen until he heard the unmistakable sound of clansmen announcing that their unwitting guests had arrived. He held up his hand, waited, then dropped his hand in the pre-appointed signal.
“Mark one,” Ewan said quietly. “Three… two… one…”
Oliver slipped with him around the east side of Moraig’s house and flattened himself back against the side of the croft. He heard himself clunk his head against the threshold, heard the shouts that accompanied that, watched whichever clansman his second incarnation had beaned with a rock go sprawling, then looked at Ewan.
“Let’s go.”
Ewan nodded shortly, then stepped forward to become the diversion he absolutely needed.
Twenty
Mairead wondered if Guy Fawkeshad decided to make a quick visit to Scotland before setting off on his foul adventure in London.
She coughed at the blue smoke that obscured even her hand in front of her face, then felt that hand be taken by another hand she suspected she would recognize anywhere. She didn’t bother to question Oliver over why he’d just gone sprawling into the witch’s croft whilst at the same time was pulling her through the forest at a dead run. Perhaps he was rescuing her yet again.
She didn’t dare ask why.
She tripped, which wasn’t surprising given the condition of the forest floor, but found herself caught by someone behind her. She looked behind her and opened her mouth to shout out a warning, but the man quickly pulled his head covering off and smiled.
“Ewan Cameron,” he said pleasantly. “Oliver’s second.”
She would have smiled if she’d had it in her, but as it was all she could do was nod, then look at Oliver who reached for her hand again.
“We need to run,” he said urgently.
“Let’s fly instead.”
He smiled. “We’ll do that, too.”
She suspected he might be referring to a Future marvel she fully intended to be alive to see for herself, so she bolted with him through the forest, his friend hard on her heels. She wasn’t sure how many times she tripped, but one of those lads caughther every time, something she suspected her hands and knees would appreciate.
What she didn’t appreciate was the pair of lads waiting for them just under the eaves of the forest near the Cameron’s border.
“Got it,” Ewan Cameron said firmly.
