foot on the ground.
Helen held her dagger in a fist, knuckles white.
“Hold your tongue,” her hero breathed into her ear.
Not that she needed the advice. If there was ever a time in her life to close her mouth and open her ears it was now. These men stepped from the pages of time, each of them regarding her with a mixture of lust and speculation.
Helen had an uncanny desire to pull her shorts lower on her legs.
“MacCoinnich?” one of the men shouted.
Her hero shifted his gaze toward the voice.
“Looks like we’ve captured one after all.”
The men circling them started to laugh.
The sound grated on her nerves.
“And with a lassie, too.”
What was up with the lass thing? Unlike any time the man at her back had used the term, the man stating it now did so with vulgar intent.
Her hero sensed it too, or so she thought as she felt his body move closer to hers. Without thinking, Helen moved her hand from her thigh to his in acknowledgment. Hold your tongue, he ’d told her.
She could do that.
“Put down your sword, MacCoinnich, and we’ll let you live to see another day.”
The man ’s accent was English, not the thick, Scottish brogue she’d heard since arriving in Scotland.
The animal under them pranced.
Helen held her breath.
A fight would be futile. They ’d die. The men surrounding them were similar in stature to her hero, yet all of them had a deadened gaze behind their eyes. Haunting.
One man aimed an arrow straight at her chest. The thought of outrunning it would mean suicide.
“What do you want?” MacCoinnich asked.
“You, to start with. And then your companion. She appears quite inviting dressed as she is. Wouldn ’t you say, men?”
The leader led the laughter erupting around her. She knotted her fist into MacCoinnich ’s thigh.
This was bad. Very, very bad.
MacCoinnich’s breath brushed against her ear. “Follow Kong, my horse,” he uttered.
Maybe he had a plan. A plan of escape.
Yet as the thought solidified in her mind, their enemies drew closer.
Her hero lowered his sword, but his body screamed with tension.
The predatory cry of a bird filled the air and several of the men shot their attention above their heads. The horse carrying the warrior holding the bow pitched onto his back legs, forcing the man to lose his aim to stay on the animal.
MacCoinnich drew his sword high, and wrapped his free arm tightly around Helen.
All the horses started to prance, their riders struggled to get them under control.
Kong leapt toward an opening between the men, and it was all Helen could do to stay mounted. The other horses didn ’t seem to be able to move, but that didn’t stop the men from fighting. One threw himself off his horse and clashed swords with MacCoinnich.
“Grab the girl!”
Kong’s exit was blocked and the horse spun around.
Helen ’s gaze collided with one of the men trying to kill them. From the ground, he reached for her leg. She pulled her leg back, retreating from his fingers. And when he moved closer, she thrust her heel as hard as she could at the side of the man’s head. When he fell back, another man took his place. This one slashed at her with a sword. The skin on her leg started to burn.
“Hold on, Helen,” MacCoinnich said behind her. “Trust me.”
The words left his mouth and the sky started buzzing with noise.
The man who ’d sliced her leg open didn’t stop to glance at the sky. He descended with death in his eyes.
Suddenly, her hero jumped off the horse, and Kong ran at breakneck speed into the forest with Helen crouched low over his back. She tightened her legs around his flanks, but still didn ’t think she could hold her seat. The voices behind her started to fade, but Helen didn’t feel any relief from it. She didn’t dare look back.
This was a nightmare.
Dammit , she wanted to wake up.
Kong ’s gait shifted from a full run to a slower gallop. The change jarred Helen and sent her tumbling off the side of the horse.
Air