“Nay, ‘tis true, you’re not really mine. You are too much of a lass like your mother.”
Loki ignored the laughter from the opposing guards, his gaze still fixed on Bella.
Then the only thing that could sway his mind happened.
Hamish reached over and rubbed Bella’s bottom, and she chirped, a sound that traveled straight to his soul in an instant.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Loki would kill the rat bastard for touching his Bella. A loud growl erupted from him and he dove at Hamish, throwing three punches at the man’s face before he could react. Hamish swung his leg out, catching the back of Loki’s knees and dropping him to the ground with a roar. He punched Loki in the belly twice before he was able to roll away.
Blood ran down Hamish’s face, and to Loki’s disgust, the animal actually licked it and smirked as he hopped back onto his feet. The two circled one another, Hamish taunting Loki, Loki refusing to respond. Taking the older man totally by surprise, Loki flipped onto his hands and hit him hard in the chest with both feet before he landed upright again. He then pounced on him and pummeled his face. After throwing two punches to the man’s belly, Loki grabbed him by the throat, swearing to choke the life out of him. Just then, Hamish kicked him square in the ballocks, bringing him to his knees. Hamish had to fight to get back to his feet, gagging to regain his wind, while Loki fought the sheer pain of the blow. Just as he made it to his feet again, Hector tossed his sword at Hamish.
“A sword against an unarmed man? Fair contest, aye?” Loki blew the hair out of his eyes and fought to level his breathing, reminding himself that being in control was more important than having the most powerful weapon. His sire and his uncle had taught him well, and he would be victorious. Uncle Alex hadoften told him that all his training could ultimately be for only one fight, but that fight would mean life or death for him or a loved one. How true his words were.
Hamish swung the sword over his head and heaved it toward Loki’s middle, but he easily spun away, causing the older man to stumble. Taking several steps away, Loki tried to come up with a plan to best the sword. But there was no need. Logan appeared behind him on his horse and tossed him a sword.
Satisfaction crossed his face as the cold hard hilt of the sword rubbed against the calluses of his hands. This was his sword—the sword crafted by Brodie Grant for his son. He swung the weapon a couple of times away from Hamish to get the feel of it again, then he waited for the lout to move toward him. Patience, Uncle Alex had often told him—patience, skill, and brute strength would always win the day.
Hamish moved his one hand, a move Loki had been trained to watch for, something that meant a warrior was about to switch his grip. At the exact moment when Hamish changed hands, Loki swung his sword in a wide arc, a move he’d practiced many times. But this time was different, for this time his swing was fueled with hatred for the man who’d mistreated his mother and with fury for the man who’d dared touch his wife.
Throwing his entire body behind the force of the arc, he caught Hamish in the arm first, causing blood to shoot up from his body, then buried the sword deep into his belly.
Hamish’s eyes turned dull as he crumpled to the ground, clutching for something—anything—to avoid the fate he’d sought. Instead, the life force drained from every part of him. “Wise-arse bastard.”
Loki grabbed the hilt of the sword and twisted it, forcing an eerie sound from Hamish’s throat. “Rat bastard. This is from the wee lad you left in the forest alone to die.”
He turned to the earl and whispered, “Let. Her. Go.”
The earl shoved Bella toward Loki, grabbed the coin, and raced back toward the portcullis.
He ran toward the gate screaming, “Close the gate once I’m in and the archer is out!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Loki meets his real father.
Kenzie skipped along behind Loki and Bella, firing questions too fast for Loki to answer. “So is the Grant castle as big as they say? Do you think they’ll allow me to stay? Mayhap I could find a job to do…I know! I could be a stable lad, and I promise to work verra hard.”
Loki grinned and continued over to their horses, casting a sly grin at Bella, who was clearly as amused as he was by Kenzie’s exuberance.
“Oh, wait! Loki. Did you say during supper that you wish to marry your wife again? There’s a nice priest here who would love to marry you proper. He’s a Blackfriar at the kirk on the other side of town, but I like him.”
“Bella and I are married proper, lad. I just mentioned that mayhap we would have a celebration back in the Grant hall someday. We do not need to be married again.” He leaned over and kissed Bella’s cheek before he helped her to mount her horse.
“But you really would like Father Prestwick.”
He scurried over next to Loki, peering up at him with such hope in his face, it took him back a few decades. He remembered feeling the exact same way about Brodie Grant. “Kenzie,” he said as gently as he could, “we really do not have much extra time. Winter is coming to the Highlands soon, and ‘twill be a harsh enough trip as it is. If we delay any longer, it could bedisastrous.” Loki lifted Kenzie up in front of Bella. That was a mistake, because now Kenzie could look at him eye-to-eye.
“Please, Loki. Father is the only one I need to say goodbye to. He’s the only one who would wonder what became of me. He gave me food many times and let me sleep in his kirk when the coldest nights fell in winter.”
He couldn’t deny the look in the lad’s eyes, so he peeked at Bella, who gave him a slight nod.
“I promise ‘twill be quick.”
Loki spun around and mounted his horse. “All right, lad, but only for a few moments.” He motioned to their guards to follow.
Kenzie’s face lit up and he clapped his hands. “You’ll no’ regret it.”
