Page 5 of Duncan

Does it really matter? Hudson hates me, and Dad wants me to live his life—from inside a cage, where I’ll always be safe, and alone.

Of all the ways Nicole had thought her life might end, being killed over her father’s fortune had not been one of them. Hudson had probably planned to murder her whether she married him or not. Maybe she hadn’t deserved the privileged life she’d had, but she’d done nothing to justify dying this way. She hadn’t had enough time to do anything. Oddly there seemed only one thing she truly regretted.

I just wish I could have met that beautiful man in the mirror.

Something sparkled in the water, catching Nicole’s eye. A lovely silver ring with a glowing green stone floated up out of the darkness, as if trying to reach her body. She moved closer, and became aware of two great forces tugging at her corpse. The ocean’s depths and the yacht’s propellers seemed to be fighting over which would take her body. The prospect of being crushed by the sea’s pressure or chopped to pieces by the huge propeller blades made her reach out for the last beauty she would ever likely see.

Blue and green lights swirled around her body as the pretty ring reached her limp hand and slid onto her finger. In an instant all the terror and sadness drained away from her.

Do you wish meet the healer, my child? a deep male voice, very much like the one belonging to the man in the mirror, asked.

Nicole suspected this was all part of her NDE hallucination, if that was what she was experiencing. Still, if there was even the slightest chance for her to escape her fate, she wanted it. Yes, please. Take me to him, please, God.

A woman uttered a pretty laugh. We’re no’ gods, lass. We gave our hearts to those we loved.

Shall you do the same for Duncan and our clan? the man asked.

Nicole didn’t know what or who he referred to, but it didn’t matter. I give you my word, I will.

The sea current and the drag of the propellers stopped, and for a moment Nicole saw her own eyes open and reflect the blue-green light surrounding her. That one sign of life made her pour herself through the water until she slammed back into her body, no longer numb or drowning but completely, desperately alive.

Bright white moonlight pierced the darkness of the sea, and Nicole kicked her legs furiously as she swam up toward it. Her gown dragged at her, but the joy of finding she was still alive propelled her all the way to the surface. When she broke through the gentle waves and took her first breath, she used it to laugh.

“I’m not dead.” Nothing hurt, the terrible wound had vanished, and her legs worked again. She had never experienced such a sense of being filled with delight, as if in another moment she might explode with happiness. She couldn’t see her father’s yacht anymore, however.

I’m not where I was.

A short distance away she saw a massive, shadowy island; somehow she had been swept into its crescent-shaped bay. Not a single electric light glowed on the land, so it couldn’t be Nantucket. Squinting until her eyes adjusted to the pale light, Nicole swam toward the beach, the sea’s silty bottom touching her toes when she stopped to tread water. The warmth of the water was wrong for the northern Atlantic, too. This seemed more like the Caribbean.

Where the heck am I?

As she found her footing and reach to push her dripping-wet hair out of her eyes, she saw the ring on her hand. In the faint light it looked just as beautiful as it had in the water. Looking at the stone reminded her of the lights she’d seen, and the two voices that had spoken to her.

“He said Duncan, and the clan.” Her gaze shifted to the island, and a huge structure atop the cliffs that loomed against the night sky. “Is that a castle up there?”

Nicole carefully made her way to shore, where she saw a dark figure collapsed on top of a dune. She lifted her sodden skirts as she hurried through the shallow water, once almost falling on her face. As she waded onto the shore she caught her foot on some jagged-edged rocks. Glancing down she saw some bloody scratches, and then heard a groan from ahead of her. Ignoring her own wound, she slogged through the sand until she reached a man sprawled face-down. She knelt down and looked all over him for wounds before she gently pushed him over onto his back. Sand fell away from his body and head, and when she brushed his silver-streaked dark hair from his handsome face she saw who he was.

“Healer?” He stirred a little as she said that. “Are you Duncan?”

“Aye.” He groaned, and then opened his eyes and stared at her as if he’d never before seen a woman. “Nicole?”

Chapter Two

Duncan MacMar looked up at the lovely young woman he’d seen reflected in the red stone leaf pendant. Stepping into one of his own dreams would have seemed more real than looking upon her; her beauty made him wonder if he’d ever again appreciate the allure and charms of other females. He’d never seen another woman with such gloriously colored hair, nor with eyes as clear and sparkling as a summer sea.

“You remembered my name,” Nicole said, smiling.

The sound of her voice startled him as much as her face alighting with pleasure. Surely she could not be here on Caladh, for the island where he lived with his clan had long ago been enchanted to remain hidden from mortals. The only outsiders who could come here, survivors of shipwrecks, did not dress in gem-encrusted gowns, nor speak through magical objects.

She’s an illusion, created by a Fae enchantment.

Everything about her argued against that thought. Along his side her body heat warmed him like a gentle caress. Water dripped from her long locks, which even wet shone with luscious amber-apricot glints. Was her hair gold or red, or some blend of both? The moon lent a faint sheen to her blue eyes, which made them seem lighter than they were, and glowed along the curve of her jaw, making her pale flesh seem almost ghostly. She smelled of the sea, and beneath it some impossibly sweet, delightful fragrance that made him want to rub his face against her.

That desire, and several others rising inside him, should have invoked a sense of shame; he’d never looked upon females with such base lust. As the only healer on Caladh he had an obligation to see all their vassals as his patients.

She seems real, and she’s no’ one of the mortals that serve the clan. He pushed himself into a sitting position, and went still as she placed an arm around him for support. When was the last time a woman had touched him, much less held him—and what was this strange sensation spreading through him?

Dinnae touch me, demon’s slave, a furious woman’s voice rasped from his memory. Ye shallnae steal and devour my spirit.