“She won’t be going anyplace,” Lowell said strangely.
“Uncle—”
“Do her!” Mary Jane insisted. “Do her on the stone now.”
“Nay, I cannot. She’s Lady MacGinnis, there’s a ceremony that must be?—”
“The Druid Stone requires the sacrifice! And we might have had an innocent maid, if it hadn’t been for this special MacGinnis blood of yours. And we might have had the child, with blood tenfold stronger!”
“Cease your chatter, woman!” Lowell demanded.
Shawna stared from Mary Jane to Lowell, incredulous. Then she realized that she must escape. Help was so close! Just beyond a few stones.
He had told her to stay near. At his side throughout the night. He had known that something would happen. The full moon would draw the blood of the lunatics just as it would the water of the loch. She had come to meet the devil?—
Her own great-uncle. Her kin. Her blood.
Mary Jane lunged for her, sensing that she was ready to flee. Shawna didn’t hesitate. She wound her fingers into a fist and struck Mary Jane furiously in the jaw.
Mary Jane gasped in pain and fury. Shawna turned to run.
But Lowell was there.
She never got a chance to scream. A strange-smelling handkerchief was clapped over her face.
She started to struggle.
But she couldn’t fight the drug.
She was out in seconds. Deadweight in her uncle’s arms. Deadweight as he threw her down upon the Druid Stone. He quickly slipped his dirk from the sheath at his calf.
But a sudden rise of laughter stopped him.
He turned back to see that the caber throw had broken up. The revelers were returning here.
He wouldn’t have the proper time.
Mary Jane came up behind. “She all but broke my jaw!” she cried softly. “Damn you, slit her throat! Have done with it.”
“Nay, I need time.”
“Time! You old fool! They are watching us! We’ll lose her again! Just kill her.”
“She’s the MacGinnis,” Lowell said.
“It doesn’t matter! We’ll sacrifice one of our own for the ceremony if need be. The Druid Stone demands a sacrifice, you’ve said so yourself. Kill her now!”
“Woman, we’ll not!”
“Old fool, we will. The stone must have blood.”
She wanted blood?
Lowell lifted his dirk, then plunged it downward.
Blood spilled over the altar stone.
The revelers were returning. Laughter and shouts were growing louder.