Devils Highlander (Clan MacAlpin 1)

“You dove under the ship?” Marjorie's eyes grazed him, and they widened, noting his trews, the color darker with damp.

“Brilliant,” Aidan whispered.

“Not so far under,” Cormac replied with a crooked smile. “Come, now. ” He took her arm, ushering her to the ladder. “Time for you to get off the ship. ”

Though she felt her legs moving, she was having a hard time connecting thoughts with movements. Cormac had been in the water. Water that would soon be up around their ears if they didn't get off now.

“Can the girl make it?” Aidan's tone was condescending.

His scrutiny focused Marjorie. She was not weak. She would not be weak.

“I'm fine,” she said, gripping her skirts. But her fingers were ice cold.

The ship lurched again, and Marjorie's stomach with it. They were on a sinking ship far from port. The entire situation was unthinkable madness.

“The water will be coming fast now. ” Cormac turned to the bailie. “Take the women ashore. Now. ” There was a low groan, and water trickled in from the seam between floor and wall.

“The prisoners!” Marjorie's shout sounded hollow in her own ears. She remembered the prisoners. They were on a lower deck. They'd drown.

There was a sharp crack, and the trickle of water turned into a gush. Water seeped higher, swirling around their ankles. It lapped at the bodies strewn on the floor, casting the hem of her dress a ghastly shade of rust.

“Get me out!” Adele shrieked, shaking her husband's arm. Alarm thickened her accent. “You… you… sale con! You will get me off this ship!”

Marjorie watched the bailie, his face colorless as parchment, as he scampered up the ladder with his wife. But she could only stand paralyzed, unable to wrap her mind around what was happening. One of her feet was poised on the bottom rung, but freezing water churned around the other. She knew she should get out of there, but all she could think about was what would become of the body of her uncle.

“Ree, love,” Cormac said gendy. Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he gave her a slow, chaste kiss. It felt like good-bye, and her throat ached with anguish. “You must go. Now, Ree. The lower deck will be flooding fast now. ”

“Wait. ” Tears finally sprang to her eyes, spilling in a hot torrent down her chilled face. “What about you?”

“I'll bide a wee longer,” Cormac said. The corners of his eyes crinkled with a rueful smile. “I've a hold full of slaves to rescue. ”

“As do I. ” Aidan stepped up behind his brother, and Marjorie made a choked sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

She stared at Cormac one last time, memorizing his eyes, the color of a stormy sky, and the furrow in his brow, visible beneath a dark swatch of still-damp hair. She would see him again in no time, she assured herself.

With a mute nod, she forced herself to move.

Next she knew, she was floating in a five-person dory, her body numb, wondering how, exactly, she'd made it up and off the ship. She spent the next agonizing minutes trapped in some dreadful hallucination, watching as the moonlit masts of the Oliphant — and Cormac — slowly sank beneath the waves.

Mayhem ruled on deck. There were two launch boats — the captain's gig and a whaleboat — each intended to carry only ten. Crewmen struggled to unhitch them in the darkness, lowering them into the churning waves. Some sailors clambered down the rope ladder, fighting to be first on board, while others simply dove from the railing in terror, attempting to swim ashore. It was rumored that the force of a sinking ship was enough to suck a man down to the bottom of the sea.

Cormac looked

landward. Aberdeen harbor was an inky black swatch in the distance, standing apart from the glimmering, starlit sea. They weren't so far from land — a strong swimmer with his wits about him would make it.

“Slaves are held aft,” Aidan said simply, shouldering by his brother.

Cormac nodded and followed close behind. “We need to get them before they drown. She'll sink fast now. ” He attuned his ears, picking out cries from the prisoners trapped on the lower deck. Gauging by how low the ship rode in the water, the men would be chest — high in seawater.

They stood at the top of the companionway ladder, peering to the hold below. Water sloshed, shimmering in the moonlight like a black mirror.

“No time like the present. ” Cormac nudged past his brother, descending the ladder. His legs were soon immersed, but he kept going, ignoring the sharp bite of frigid water stealing across the tiny bones in his feet all the way up to his thighs. “She's locked tight,” he said, jiggling the submerged latch. He slammed his shoulder against the door for good measure, but the deep water prevented any momentum.

The prisoners heard the commotion, and began howling and pleading with renewed intensity.

Aidan was right beside him, the calm on his face at odds with the water lapping against their torsos. “Quiet,” he bellowed, slamming his hand high on the door. Head tilted low in concentration, he held both hands underwater, blindly assessing the lock. He glanced up at Cormac, and said, “Your dirk. ”

“My dirk?”