Page 102 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

She remained silent, for she did not want to fight him naked.

He lay down again. Soon, his snores reached her.

Relaxing as the pain and worry drifted away, she ran the invisibility spell through her head and whispered the words. Once she could no longer see her own body, she crawled from beneath the bed.

Now, where would the old man hide a keek stane if he had it? Mayhap in a drawer. During one of his loud snores, she grasped the knob and pulled out the top drawer. Nothing of interest in there. Of course, he wouldn't place it on top.

A trunk sat in the corner. With slow movements, she opened it and dug beneath the clothes. Something in a cloth pouch lay on the bottom. She picked it up, excitement flooding her. The object inside had the shape of the keek stane. Grinning, she opened the drawstring and peered in.

"Aye," she said aloud, unable to hide her excitement.

"Out, demon!"

She turned. Finnian stared at the open trunk. She was still invisible, but he knew where she was.

His eyes wide, he grabbed his long staff from against the wall and swung at her head.

She ducked. Carrying the pouch, she hurried to the window and threw it open.

His gaze followed, and he charged her with the staff, jabbing it against her lower back. Pain exploding, she screamed and dropped the keek stane.

Finnian snatched it from the floor. Damn him! She couldn't leave without her treasured object.

Someone pounded on the door. "What's happening, Finnian? Are you well?" 'Twas Torr's voice. She didn't know he was here.

Instead of answering, Finnian struck out again.

Before he could hit her, Wilona dodged away from him and murmured the words of the spell to transform into a goshawk. In her new, powerful form, she flapped her wings against his face, disorienting him. Her large talons scratched his hand just before she clamped them on to the velvet pouch.

Finnian cried out, his bloodied fingers loosening on the sack. She yanked it away from him and flew out the window.

"Blasted witch!" Finnian yelled after her.

Flying north over the curtain wall, she emitted a series of screeches. Triumph filled her as she winged her way toward Dunrhyne Castle.

***

WHEN TORR AND FINNIAN entered his bedchamber, Brodie sat on the edge of his bed, his chest a mass of hot torment. Still, he was ready to rise and see what the devil was going on.

"What happened?" He stared at Finnian's bleeding hand.

"The witch slipped into my chamber like a specter, invisible. She found the keek stane in the bottom of my trunk. I knocked it from her hand and grabbed it, but she opened the window. Then she shifted into a goshawk, scratched my hand, and snatched the keek stane pouch from my grip."

"Damnable hag," Brodie muttered. "That will give her the upper hand."

"I ken it, lad, and I'm sorry. I should've had it locked in the chest."

"Do nay fash over it. 'Twas nay your fault."

"Come, Finnian. I'll help you bandage your hand," Torr said, guiding him out the door. In the corridor, they met Cat and Elsea. Brodie recognized their voices, his heartbeat quickening at the sound of Elsea's words of sympathy. They agreed to help Finnian with his hand injuries and take him to the village healer.

Torr returned to the room and reclaimed the chair.

"Will he be alright?" Brodie asked. Nausea and dizziness still plagued him, but he had to force himself to get well.

"I think so. Where is Wilona MacRae living now?" Torr asked. "Still in the cave?"

"Nay. Since she was at Dunrhyne last night, she must be living there. Plus, she's helping the bastard who owns it."