***

Calla’s head was pounding—again. Thankfully, Baird hadn’t struck her in the same place that he had hit her before. So she’d have a new bruise and a new lump on her temple, other side. She wanted to kill him. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute. He was driving beside the cliffs near Elaine’s castle ruins. She recognized this stretch of highway, the place that Cearnach’s vehicle had been pushed off the cliffs by Baird’s own kin. Which is what had led to her calling it quits with mating Baird.

She felt the car slipping and sliding on ice. The sleet slithered down the windshield and the side windows, and the ice piled up at the bottom of the glass. Every time the tires slid, she sucked in her breath. Baird glanced up at the rearview mirror. Cold, dark eyes stared at her. She almost didn’t recognize him.

She wanted to tell him to watch the road, as bad as the conditions were, or even better, to stop the car and let her out, but even making a sudden stop could send them over the cliff. She wanted to plead with him, but she didn’t feel she could say anything further that would change his mind. Not now. He was hell-bent on his own destruction and hers. The only hope she had was that when he took her back to his pack and she told them she was mated to Guthrie, they’d let her go—to avoid riling the whole MacNeill pack—and deal with Baird in their own way.

Then the car slid on ice again, and the words slipped out anyway. “Baird, slow down!”

He just growled and ignored her.

She knew it was crazy, considering the more worrisome concern of how Baird could very well end up killing them both, but still, she thought about the Christmas party she and Julia had planned for tomorrow and how she might never be there to help set it up. Most of all, she thought of Guthrie and the short time they’d had together as a couple, and wished with all her heart that they’d gotten together sooner.

Baird shook his head. “You’re the reason I’m in such a mess.”

As if. She didn’t want to antagonize him further, though she did have a question she wanted answered, no matter how much he might not like her bringing it up.

“Why didn’t you try this hard to get back together with Ivy? Why all this trouble for me?” Calla was still irritated with him that he’d set up the meeting with her and that it hadn’t been chance or love at first sight. She wanted him to know that she knew all about Ivy and how he’d met her the same way.

“I knew she wasn’t the right one for me. I didn’t pursue her because I called it quits. Did she tell you differently? She wanted to get married. Pleaded with me to come back. She called a dozen times after I left. Even came to my house after I had ended the relationship. Bothered my brothers by asking them to let me know she needed to talk with me.”

Calla couldn’t believe it! Then Baird had to know how she felt about being stalked. But was he telling the truth? Had Ivy lied?

“After you split up, did you go to the same places you had taken her before?” Calla asked.

“Nay. She frequented them. I wasn’t about to put up with her fitful scenes any longer. She was spoiled, used to getting her own way.”

“But…” Calla wanted to tell him that he was behaving just like Ivy. But she realized then why Ivy hadn’t had him thrown out of her ball. Ivy had wanted him there. Maybe she had hoped that Calla and Baird would get into a fight, so she could move in and entice Baird to be interested in her again.

“Why did you come to the masquerade ball, then?”

“Ivy called and said you’d arrived. I didn’t come to see her. She knew that but was hoping she and I could get back together. It would never have happened.”

The car slid again, and he didn’t slow down even a wee bit. Calla’s heart nearly gave out as she buckled her seat belt and grabbed the door handle. If the car went over the cliff, would she be better off as a wolf or a human? Seat belted as a human seemed like the best bet, though neither option was exactly ideal.

As soon as she had that thought, the car hit ice and spun around, her heart and stomach spinning with it. They were going too fast, tires vibrating so violently that she felt as though they would shake loose from the rims.

Then suddenly they were going straight down the side of the cliff. Her heart was in her throat. Instead of the road in their path, she saw trees and rocks. Jagged rocks scraped the underbelly of the car raw, the metal screeching and grinding, tree limbs snapping.

For some inane reason, she hated that he was destroying the trees. Forget about what would happen when the car crashed at the bottom of the cliff and resulted in the destruction to their bodies.

Branches tore at the doors, scarring the paint job. The rocks shredded the tires, and they boomed as the air whooshed out of them. Both the windshield and the back window wore spiderweb cracks all across their width, the wipers still sweeping across the windshield, clearing the sleet away only to be covered in the slippery stuff again. The car slammed to a stop, and a jarring jolt crashed through every bone in her body.

It wasn’t over. They were hanging precariously midway down the cliff, hung up on rocks and trees, the only things that kept them from falling any farther. Baird wasn’t moving, his head slumped over the steering wheel.

“Baird,” Calla cried out, torn between wanting to leave the car without him and wanting to ensure he wasn’t going to try anything further to injure her. Her clothes were damp from the run in the sleeting rain, and her head was still pounding furiously.

She leaned forward a little to try to reach him, but the car shuddered, and she realized then how precarious their situation still was.