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A widowed Breedmate with an infant son-the family of his one-time best friend and a member of the Order besides, for fuck's sake-were waiting in the dead men's car parked behind him near the end of the snowy driveway.
And in his hand, a locked-and-loaded pistol aimed at the front window of the small guest house several hundred feet away, its chamber ready to release a hail of rounds and ignite the stream of gas that was leaking from the pipe he'd disconnected on the stove.
Bloody hell.
He'd spent half a goddamn year serving a criminal he hated with every ounce of his being, hiding who he was, burying his past and the future yanked out of his grasp, all for one purpose: so he could prepare for the ideal moment when he could take Reiver and the rest of his untouchable cronies down in one fell swoop.
Only to risk throwing it all away, right here.
Malcolm MacBain exhaled a low oath in rusty Gaelic. Then he pulled the trigger and turned to stalk back to the idling car.
Glass shattered behind him. An answering vacuum sucked in some of the chill night air from around him as he walked, pulling with it a flurry of snowflakes that danced on the Highland breeze.
The world went quiet, but only for a second.
Then the cottage exploded and the ground beneath his boots shook with an earth-rattling boom.
Malcolm felt the destruction in his bones. He saw it reflected in the windshield of Reiver's fleet sedan, bright orange flames shooting skyward, the light from the blast illumingn=>ilating Danika's awestruck, horrified face behind the glass.
He slid into the driver's seat without comment and threw the car into a sharp reverse turn. As he roared away from the burning house, he felt Dani's eyes on him. She held her baby close to her breast, shielding his head protectively with her hand. "Malcolm, what have you done?"
"The only thing that could be done." He kept his focus on the dark road ahead, knowing they had to get where they were going before the fireworks brought all of Conlan's clan out to see what had occurred.
"Where are you taking us? Why don't you want Con's family to know what happened back there?"
He felt her ability prodding into his skull. He scoffed a rough curse and slanted a sharp look on her. "Stay out of my head, lass. Leave my damned thoughts alone."
"They're going to worry about me. I need to let them know that Connor and I are all right-"
"You'll do no such thing." His voice grated out of him, harsher than he intended. "What I did just now was buy you time. Time you'll need to get as far away from Scotland as you can. And it will all be for naught if anyone-even Conlan's kin-know that you and the baby are alive."
Danika was staring at him, shaking her head. "It's cruel to let them think anything else."
"Two of Reiver's worst enforcers are dead inside that blaze. He sent them to kill you, Dani. Don't think for a second he won't retaliate on you or the rest of the MacConns if he has even the slightest cause to suspect you might have walked away from this thing tonight."
He let her answering silence fill the quiet of the car as he drove deeper into the night, farther into the rolling hills and wilderness plains of the Highlands where he was born. "As of right now, you're dead, Danika. You have to trust me. It's the only way."
"Where will I go?"
"Somewhere he won't think to look for you."
She went quiet beside him again, murmuring soft words to her baby as the bundle in her arms began to fidget and fuss. Malcolm couldn't keep his gaze from straying to her now and then as the miles fell away behind them. She was lovely still, with her pale blond hair and smooth-as-cream skin.
Time had made him forget how regal yet feminine her Nordic features were, but seeing her now was like looking through a glass to all those years that had passed-the centuries, in fact. Danika MacConn's beauty hadn't faded even a little, despite the faint shadows riding under her eyes that hinted at how long she'd apparently gone without a fortifying taste of Breed blood.
He regretted the loss she'd suffered with Conlan's death. Losing one's blood-bonded mate was the worst kind of suffering. Con was the lucky one, relieved of the grief Danika had to carrnd had toy without him.
And watching her interact so tenderly with her baby son opened up a deeper ache inside Malcolm-the ache of a recent loss of his own. It was an anguish that had nearly destroyed him but now gave him reason to breathe. To have patience. To avenge.
The last thing he wanted was a vulnerable female and baby in his care. All the worse that it should be this female, at this time ... in this place.
Steeling himself to the consequences of his actions that night, Malcolm turned the sedan onto a rambling path that could hardly be called a road. They bumped and jostled through a thick heath, following the line of an old cow fence of tumbledown stones. The fortress dominated the vista up ahead, looming as dark as pitch against the wintry night sky.
Danika leaned forward in her seat, peering out the windshield. "I know this place," she murmured softly.
"Aye," he agreed. "You should know it well enough, I reckon."
She was quiet for a long moment, staring straight ahead as he slowed to a stop in front of it. "This is the castle where Conlan first asked me to be his mate." Danika's face glowed milky white in the lights of the dashboard as she turned to look at him now. "Malcolm ... this is your castle."
