Free Editor's Choice Volume I - Slow summer Kisses, Kilts & kraken, Negotiating point by Giordano Adrienne Spencer Pape Cindy Stacey Shannon Page B

in his eyes, but handed her a belt with two revolvers. “If there’s trouble, get under cover as quick as you can. We need a doctor more than we need another gun.”
    “Of course.” She wasn’t stupid and had no intention of taking unnecessary risks. “Shall we go?”
    The walk to the pasture took only a few minutes, and by the time they reached the flat grassy plain, the sounds of an airship’s propellers roared in her ears. The sheep had wisely scattered, and Magnus’s warriors took up positions behind tall granite standing stones, arranged in a circle at least a hundred yards in diameter around the pasture. A few others found places in nearby trees. Magnus, flanked by Quentin and Geneva, waited by a flat stone set a few feet inside the circle, near the southern border of the field. Geneva felt power hum through the granite at her back. This would be the heart of Torkholm’s magick—the area had almost certainly been sacred in ancient times, and had been carefully tended since to keep the power flowing, strong and true. Faded bronze stains marked the surface of the stone, and she spared a hope that the blood sacrifices held here were all long in the past.
    As the airship approached, she recognized the vessel and tugged on Magnus’s sleeve. “My father,” she shouted. “Or someone sent by him.”
    Magnus nodded and took his hand off the hilt of his sword, though he kept it on his hip, at the ready. The airship touched down and Geneva muffled a groan. Her father was not standing on the deck. That was some blessing, given the rampant attraction between her and Magnus, which she didn’t even think a doting papa could miss. The two figures who waited by the rail were almost as unwelcome.
    Geneva waved at the two young men to signal she was fine and not being held under duress. Magnus lifted a brow. “My brother and a friend.”
    Tom Devere, the youngest Knight in the Order, at a year Connor’s junior, and his closest friend, deployed the gangplank and clambered down, her brother at his heels. Both heavily armed men strode straight for Geneva and Magnus.
    “Halt!” A high-pitched shriek tore through the pasture, loud enough to be heard over the idling dirigible. Catriona ran into the circle, waving her arms, her raven tresses blowing in the wind of the rotors. “Away, you defilers.”
    “This is sacred land.” Her mother, of course, wasn’t far behind—and the older woman held a deadly looking blunderbuss, pointed right at Connor. “Be gone.”
    “Edda, put down the weapon. These are invited guests.” Magnus eyed Connor and Tom. “Mr. MacKay, could you see your way to moving that airship to the park behind the castle? This circle is indeed considered holy.”
    Connor glanced at Geneva, who nodded. No doubt, he felt the power of the place as she did. He gestured and Tom ran back to the ship, one eye still on Edda and her antiquated gun. At least now she pointed it at the ground instead of at Connor’s chest. As the airship lifted off, Magnus strode forward, his hand extended. “You’ll explain to me why they’re here,” he said to Geneva, who kept pace beside him.
    “I have no idea.” She introduced the two men as soon as the dirigible was far enough away that she could be heard at less than a shout. “Well, little brother, what brings you here?” Other than her father not trusting her to handle the investigation on her own.
    “Besides an airship?”
    Magnus’s chest rumbled, but Geneva couldn’t tell if it was a growl or a chuckle at her brother’s flippancy.
    Connor sobered. “Father thought you might be able to use some help with the kraken problem. We’ve brought along some new weapons that needed testing.”
    “Your father runs an arms factory?” Magnus asked. “Or does he work with the War Office?”
    Geneva squirmed. “No, he…um…works with the Home Office, sometimes. Connor and Tom work with him. Testing new guns wouldn’t be outside the realm of their usual