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his beloved was coming. “Glamis, no.” Liam choked, spitting
up blood.
    The wind picked up, whipping his strands away
from his face.
    His brother lifted his sword ready to fight
whatever came at him. The blond man dropped his sword and ran, his
squire, Cormac close behind.
    Liam gripped his side, trying to stop the
flow of blood. “Go, Diarmuid. Go before it is too late.”
    His brother glanced at him. Sorrow filled his
eyes and the lines of age fell away to reveal the youth who once
loved him. “May God have mercy on your soul, Liam.” He raised his
sword then and Liam realized his brother’s intent. His eyes widened
in disbelief, but he could not defend himself. He fought battles
without injury, but he would die this day at the hands of his
brother.

Chapter Eleven
     
    As the sword came down toward Liam’s neck, a
blur of color whipped by him, lifting him, and taking him away. It
felt like he was flying with the way the wind whipped against
him.
    He closed his eyes, and breathed in the scent
of his beloved. “Glamis.”
    The whirl of flight ended, and Glamis lowered
him to the ground. He opened his eyes and saw the tree tops above
him.
    “Liam?” Her voice trembled with fear.
    He reached for her and she grabbed hold of
his hand. “You saved me.”
    Her lips curved, but the humor didn’t reach
her gaze. “I only prolonged your death.” She hissed and her fangs
lengthened. “The human will die for this.”
    He squeezed her hand, staying her moves. “No,
let him go.”
    “Let him go? If the sun shone brighter, I
could not have come to your rescue without burning alive. That man
you wish to spare would have gladly relieved you of your head.”
    “I know.” He squeezed her hand again. “But
you cannot slay him. Promise me you will spare his life.”
    “Why?” Confusion danced in the depths of her
eyes.
    “The man you wish dead is my brother,” he
told her.
    Her brows creased. “This is the child you
taught to swim and to hold a sword? The snot nosed lad who followed
you everywhere?”
    “Aye.” She remembered his tales of home and
in happier times.
    “He is no boy,” she accused.
    “No, I am not.” Diarmuid broke through the
foliage, like a man determined to do what he must to set the world
right. He pointed his sword at her. “You will die this day for
corrupting my brother. I saw the marks you left on his neck. I know
what you are.”
    Liam cursed under his breath. “Glamis did not
corrupt me.”
    “Glamis? The fiend has a name?” His voice
rose like thunder, condemning Liam. Glamis proved evil in his
brother’s eyes and no man should ever befriend such a creature.
    “I will not have you call my wife names.”
They may not have taken their vows before a priest, but they
pledged their love the old way. They were married, and he would
raise his sword to anyone who said differently.
    For a moment, Diarmuid lost his hostile
stance. “Your wife?”
    Liam nodded. “You have a problem with her
then you have one with me as well.” He almost laughed at how
ludicrous that sounded. Of course, his brother had a problem with
him being with Glamis. Didn’t the hole in his side prove it well
enough? His gaze touched Glamis with determination. “If you love me
as you claim, you will not harm my brother. Before I die, I will
have your word on this.”
    Glamis’ eyes glowed red, but then dimmed. “As
you wish.”
    “Get away from him.” Diarmuid took a step
toward them, but stopped when Glamis bared her fangs with a hiss.
With preternatural speed born to her, she charged him. The sword
flew from Diarmuid’s grasp as she grabbed him by the neck and
dangled him off the ground as if he weighed no more than a
poppet.
    “Do not kill him,” Liam rasped out. “You
promised. He is my brother, my family. I love him.”
    Her gaze riveted to him in confusion and
disbelief. “You love him? Your life’s blood flows from your body
because of him. He calls me fiend, but it is he who is the