Page 35 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

How was he doing that? 'Twas like magic. Was he a sorcerer?

She tried to figure out what sort of man Brodie was. Being a chief, he was strong and commanding, obviously. He frowned and scowled a lot, but wanted to make sure she was warm. He'd asked about her pain, and he was trying to get her to a physician.

Aye, he must be trustworthy. When the sea grew rough, Brodie clasped her forearm to hold her in place, then moved his hand to her upper arm.

"What's this?" He lifted her hand and looked down her sleeve. "A sheath?"

She nodded, glancing at the empty leather sheath. Had she lost all her weapons? She checked the sheath on her other forearm. Also, empty.

"You always were armed to the teeth," Brodie said. "Where's your sgian dubh?"

Frowning, she shook her head. How did he know about her carrying weapons? Blast it, he knew her... somehow, and so did his clansmen. He was an unforgettable type of man, so why couldn't she remember him?

"We had to remove your cloak, belt, and arisaid in the sea. 'Twas weighing you down too much."

Oh, so that's where her clothes had gone. And the dirk her da had given her? Blast. 'Twas gone forever if it had sunk to the bottom of the sea. She placed her palms against the sheaths on the outside of her calves and found the sgian dubh hilts still in place.

"You have something there?" Brodie asked, pressing his fingers against the sheathed weapon. "At least you didn't lose them all. What were you doing out there on that galley?"

Trying hard to summon the memory, she shook her head.

"Arabella told me you cut the bonds of the females."

She frowned, searching his dark eyes. What on earth was he talking about? Which females, and who was Arabella?

He flicked a glance at her, this one less severe. "Do you remember?"

She shook her head.

"You said you remembered who I am."

She shook her head again, slightly. She should, but she didn't.

His glare sharpened. "In the cave, you said you remembered me."

Had she? If so, the memory had vanished.

He blew out an impatient breath, his gaze darting away.

She was sorry she'd forgotten. Why was he being so callous about it? Did he think she was lying?

Oh, good Lord, she prayed her memory would return soon. If Brodie was someone she knew, she certainly wanted to remember him.

***

WILONA MACRAE GROUND her teeth and strode to the mouth of the cave. In the distance, the galley tossed and rocked over the waves, the pale sail full of wind. In the first rays of dawn light, she could barely see Brodie and his whore along with the men.

"Bastard! I'll show him," Wilona seethed.

She spoke the ancient Gaelic words, the spell to turn herself into a giant sea eagle, even larger than a natural bird, with a ten-foot wingspan. Normally, she chose to shift into smaller birds, for it took less power, but she would need to be massive to grab the lass in her talons and drop her into the ocean.

Flapping her massive wings, Wilona delighted in her strength. With ease, she lifted off from the shore despite the wind and flew high into the air. She stayed behind the galley to maintain the element of surprise. Her vision as an eagle was unsurpassed.

Brodie held on to one of Elsea's arms, keeping her steady in the rocking galley. The wench wore a loose plaid wrapped around her, including her blonde hair. 'Twould be difficult to drag her from the birlinn. Wilona would have no choice but to grab the plaid, and it was not attached with a belt. The attack would be difficult, but she was determined to best them all.

Brodie's plaid was belted at his waist, the top portion covering his back now. She would grab his plaid and drag him off the galley. If he held on to Elsea, she would go too. In the confusion, mayhap the wench would drown.

Everyone on board facing away from her, Wilona flew closer, keeping her wings silent. Talons outstretched, she lifted her wings and dove toward Brodie's back. She clasped her talons around his plaid, scratching his skin, and flapped her wings to lift him.