Page 56 of Kilted Sins

“I… I saw a loch,” Thora said, frowning as she tried to recall the details of her vision. “An’ a crest. I saw a crest. I think it was mountain peaks or… I dinnae ken. I dinnae ken what it could be.”

“It sounds like the MacNeil Clan crest,” said Archibald, rushing to them. “I’ll see if I can find any records o’ properties or anyone who kens where it might be.”

Cillian nodded, swallowing down the bile that rose up the back of his throat. Even in his panic and grief, Archibald was just as eager to help as always, the first to jump into action while Cillian still had to pull himself together. He had that in common with Enya, Cillian thought; they both rushed to help those around them without a second thought.

And now Enya had been taken by a man Cillian trusted with his life. How could he have been so blind to it? How could he not have seen Duncan for who he truly was? The signs must have been there and he had missed all of them. It was yet another failure on his part, yet another way he had let someone down. First, his sister and now Enya, all because he simply wasn’t enough.

He had had his suspicions in the past, although he had never voiced them to anyone, that MacNeil had had something to do with the raid Eleanor had gotten killed in. But no proof had emerged, so he had never spoken about it, not even to his closest friends. Now he knew with certainty it had been him all along.

Cillian’s gaze fell on the sword Enya had commissioned for him, which rested against the wall, and his only thought was that he didn’t deserve it. How could he ever claim to be like his father when he couldn’t protect the people he loved?

“Cillian.”

Thora’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, now sounding a little calmer. She was still deathly pale, her eyes brimming with tears, but there was strength in her gaze as she looked at him.

“We will find her,” she promised him. “I need ye tae stay calm. Fer her.”

Thora was right. He couldn’t afford to panic, not when Enya was relying on him. With a shaky breath, he walked over to the wall and grabbed the sword, focusing on his rage instead of the panic that threatened to overwhelm him.

He still did not understand why his best friend had turned against him. But of one thing he was certain. If he had to kill Duncan with his own two hands, then so be it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The cottage Thora had seen in her vision was not far from Castle MacDonald—an old relic of Clan MacNeil, used in the days of his grandfather to house any members of the clan who needed a place to stay while travelling. Finding it had been an easy task for Archibald, who had torn through all the records to find what they needed after remembering something he had read a long time ago in the clan’s history. No matter how many times Cillian witnessed Archibald’s ability to retain and recall everything relevant to the clan, he was still just as impressed by it and though he teased him for being so studious even as an adult, he couldn’t thank him enough now that his knowledge had come in so handy.

“Is this it?” Cillian asked Thora, pointing at the cottage at the bottom of the hill where they had stopped. Despite his best efforts to force them to stay in MacDonald Castle, where they would be safe, Thora and Ava had insisted on coming with him and his men, neither girl taking no for an answer. In the end, Cillian had agreed only because Kai warned him, they would follow regardless, and he thought it safer for them to stay with his party rather than follow them at a distance.

“Aye,” said Thora. “That’s the one I saw.”

Cillian dreaded to ask what he wanted to know, but ignorance seemed even worse, clawing at him until he finally said, “Can ye sense her?”

Thora glanced at him; her gaze sympathetic but guarded. “It doesnae work like that.”

He couldn’t allow himself to believe anything other than that Enya was alive and well. If anything had happened to her, he didn’t think he could bear it—all that grief, all that pain and regret, the knowledge that he couldn’t save her. In the end, it was bound to kill him, too.

Glancing behind him, Cillian looked at all the soldiers who had accompanied him on this mission. Not knowing how many men Laird MacNeil would have with him, he had brought as many as he could spare without leaving the castle vulnerable, and they were all more than willing to follow him, knowing Enya’s life was in danger. She had endeared herself to the clan, that much was obvious to Cillian. There was no man or woman who was not concerned for her fate, even those who had been left behind waiting with bated breath for any news.

“Ye’ll stay here,” he told Thora, turning to look at her. “I will leave some men with ye an’ Ava.”

He had expected Thora to argue, to claim she was just as good of a fighter as Kai, but she only nodded, perhaps because she was too scared for Enya and wanted to waste no time arguing with Cillian. He was glad for it. Even if she was a good fighter, they all ran a risk by attacking the cottage, and should something happen to Thora, he knew Enya would never forgive him for allowing her to come.

“If I see anythin’, I will send one o’ the men tae ye,” she said. “Cillian… bring her back.”

Staring at the cottage in the distance, Cillian took a deep, steadying breath. When he spoke, it was more a promise to himself than to anyone else.

“I will.”

Tied up in that dark room, Enya had begun to doze off when she heard the first signs of commotion. Footsteps echoed all around her as if people were running up and down the entire building, all of them shouting to each other. Enya could only make out a few of the words—some were orders, others screams for help. Through the boarded-up window, cries filled the room, and soon the tell-tale clang of steel against steel reverberated all around her.

It’s Cillian. It must be.

She was elated. Thora must have had a vision, Enya thought, just as she always did when someone close to her was in danger. She had never been more grateful for her gift; it had led her to Enya, and now that Cillian was there, she was no longer afraid.

He would save her. She believed that more than anything else.

The sounds of the battle became louder and louder with every passing second, drawing closer to where they were keeping Enya. Her heart pounded, anticipation building inside her, but until that door opened, she wouldn’t know if the first to get to her would be Cillian or Duncan or even Laird MacNeil.

Please, let it be me love, Cillian.