PROLOGUE
79 A.D.
Callista raised a hand and wiped the sweat from her brow. The sword moved effortlessly in her
hands as she slashed it through the air. Her hair was tied back and flowed down her back like a
black veil. The white tunic she wore was old and torn in places that would have shamed a more
sensitive woman. But Callista was no ordinary woman. She was Immortal and had lived for
over 3,000 years. She cared little for others' opinions save that of her husband, Nicklaus. The
courtyard provided some privacy as the stone walls were high enough that no one would be able
to see her battling her foe, unless they climbed it and sat on top.
Thrusting her sword arm forward, the other hand held up, she kicked at the invisible enemy and
screamed. Over and over she pushed her body to the limit and when it could take no more she
fell on her knees. Her head snapped up when she sensed another of her kind. It always amazed
her how her heart would start to slam against her chest when she felt another Immortal's
quickening. It was a warning, whether it was a friend or an enemy. Sooner or later she might
even have to face her husband. In the end there could be only one. Only one.
Her eyes darted to the entryway and she prepared herself. The figure entered and paused.
"Callista, do not tell me you wish to harm me?"
Callista smiled. "Never you husband." Running, she dropped her sword and went into his
arms. "It is good to see you," she said looking into eyes as dark as her own. "I've missed you."
She held his hands at arms' length and took him in. His hair was black like her own and it hung
straight, grazing his shoulders. His chest was strong and muscular and at the moment she
wanted nothing more than to feel his bare flesh against hers, but other matters needed to be
discussed.
"And I you." Nicklaus embraced his wife, then kissed her. His tongue parted her lips and
moaned. It had been so long since he'd lain with her. How he had missed her! "Callista . . . "
"Nicklaus, there is something I need to tell you."
He knew the instant he had seen her with a sword that someone meant her harm "Who is it?"
Shaking her head she said, "He says his name is Ciro . . . "
"Greek." Taking her hand he led her inside the house. "What does he want?" He asked,
already knowing the answer.
"He wants my head."
"Where is he?" Nicklaus growled. "I will take care of him."
Grabbing his arm she shook her head. "No, you cannot interfere. He wants ME and has made
the challenge, you CANNOT interfere."
Nicklaus nodded, his heart growing heavy at the thought of losing his wife. "Why you?"
"He knows I have lived over 3,000 years. What better reason?" Callista led him to the divan
and smiled. "I will be fine. Right now I think we should go to the bathhouse and get
reacquainted." Her hand went to his face and traced her finger along his lips.
"If he has issued the challenge . . . "
"He will come when he is ready."
"Callista . . . "
Putting a finger to his lips she said, "This is our life, Nicklaus. We fight to keep our heads and
hopefully win the Prize. One day, we might even have to face each other."
"No," he said shaking his head. "Never."
Nodding she said, "For now we are husband and wife. At the time of the Gathering . . . "
"Enough Callista. All I wish now is to be with you. We will deal with the Gathering and Ciro
later." Pulling her to his chest, his lips sought hers once again willing her words away.
The Game and Ciro were forgotten as they took their pleasure of each other.
SEACOUVER, Present Day
The night air was cool against his skin as Duncan MacLeod entered the parking lot from the
terminal. He observed that most of his fellow passengers had family or friends to greet them
upon arrival. Yet here he was, once again, alone. Richie was gone, Tessa was gone, Fitz was
gone. Amanda was who knows where. With a black duffel bag over his shoulder, he tightened
the leather belt on his coat and headed for the only constant in his life, the black T-bird.
Turning the ignition, Duncan MacLeod let out a sigh. Putting the car in gear, he drove to
Seacouver and to the lonely loft that waited for him.
With the top down, he felt a sense of peace as the wind caressed his now short hair. There were
things that he had worked through the past two years. Things he thought would eat him alive.
First there had been Methos' revelation of what he once had been. It still bothered him that his
friend had killed so many for pleasure. Then there was Richie. His death at his hands almost
cost him his sanity. If it weren't for the monks..well..it was best not to think what his life would
have been like if he hadn't been at the monastery and made peace with himself and Richie.
Seacouver loomed near and he felt such loneliness. 'You will always be alone!' Wasn't that
what Carmen had said to him? She had looked at his lifeline and had seen how empty his life
would be, never to marry and destined to be alone. Shaking his head he said, "No, she was
wrong. I had Tessa, then Anne." Anne. If only she would have accepted his Immortality, he
would be raising a child now. His only chance at being a real father, ripped away from him after
it had been offered. 'Life chooses life,' Constantine had said. Anne had chosen a normal life
for herself and Mary. He couldn't blame her wanting a normal life.
Duncan MacLeod knew he would live and fight as he always did. Hopefully along the way he would find someone to share his life with. Someone who would understand and accept his Immortality.
"Let's try again shall we, Mr. MacLeod?" Dialing his number, she let it ring once, twice . . .
"MacLeod," said the male voice.
"Duncan MacLeod?" she asked, shocked that she had finally gotten a live person on the phone.
"Yes. May I help you?" he said.
"My name is Claire Matthews. I've been trying to reach you for three days."
"I just arrived last night. What can I help you with?"
"Dr. Lindsey said she would leave the keys with you. Can I come now to get them?"
"Keys?" he asked.
"Keys to the house. Her house. She left last week for California."
"I wasn't aware of that. Of course I've been out of town for months."
"She accepted a position with Francisco General. Anyway, do you have them? I've been living
out of a suitcase for three days. I'm dying to get into the house."
"Hold on a second."
She heard a beep and could hear voices. Ah, he was checking his messages. Several minutes
later she heard his voice again.
"Miss Matthews, I can have the keys for you by two o'clock. Do you know where I am?"
"The dojo? I passed by a few times."
"Yes, I'll see you then." Click.
"Finally!"
With two o'clock being a little over two hours away, she decided to pack and treat herself to
lunch. Once in the lobby, she had the valet bring her Mustang around and pack her bags in the
trunk. The morning breeze, whipped her short, blonde hair around her face. Taking a deep
breath she looked up at the sky and smiled. Her green eyes were as brilliant as emeralds and her
sun kissed skin glowed. "Today, I start a new life," she said to herself. "A new business, a new
house. This is going to be great."
Claire had been hesitant about going out on her own. The advertising firm she worked for was
one of the best, but it was a boy's club and she was tired of seeing the women held back from
getting promotions. With her mother financing her, she was able to strike out on her own. She
already had two employees and three accounts she had lured away from the company.
"Miss, you're all ready," said the young man.
"Oh, thank you. Here you go," she said, handing him a ten-dollar bill.
"Gee, thanks!"
Claire winked at him and drove off whistling.
He'd made so many mistakes with Ann. No, not mistakes. He couldn't help it that he was
Immortal. How many times had he wished he could be mortal? When Tessa had come into his
life, he'd been scared to tell her, but had to. She needed to know she would never be able to
have children with him, needed to know that he would never grow old while she did. Her
reaction had surprised him. She'd cried for HIM. Not for herself. For all the lives he had led,
for all the friends he had lost, but most of all for his loneliness.
His movement slowed and then stopped when he felt another Immortal approaching.
The woman entered, with her sword visible. She was tall and blonde and very beautiful.
"Duncan MacLeod?" she asked, looking at the face then the body of the tall man with the dark,
chiseled features.
Nodding he said, "I assume you're Claire Matthews." His eyes skimmed over the ice pink
pantsuit she wore.
"The one and only," she said.
"You can put that away," he said pointing to her sword, "I'm harmless."
"I hope not," she said, laughing. "Harmless men are not my type."
Wiping the sweat from his face, he said, "Really? Well, then how about dinner? We can discuss
exactly what your type is."
Putting her sword in inside her coat, she nodded. "I'd love too."
"Come on up and I'll give you those keys."
Claire followed him into the lift. "This was definitely a good move," she thought. "Thanks
mom."
Claire didn't know what had awakened her. Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, looking
at her surroundings. She could make out Duncan's sleeping form beside her, his chest slowly
rising and falling with every breath. When her feet touched the cold floor, her heart started to
slam against her chest. What had her so apprehensive? The loft looked as it always had since
she'd first stepped into it four months ago. Everything in its place as usual. Walking into the
living room she saw the chess set where it always sat on the coffee table. Keeping it company
was the empty wine bottle they had consumed several hours earlier.
"Just nerves," she said to herself as she headed back to bed. That's when she realized what was
wrong. The temperature was too cool. Her eyes automatically went to the windows. Closed.
They were all closed. Had Duncan turned down the temperature? Not likely. Her first instinct
was to wake Duncan, but there was nothing concrete she could tell him. Claire wanted to get
into the bed and snuggle against him, but every nerve in her body protested. Quietly retrieving
her sword from the side of her bed, she decided to go downstairs.
The buzzing of the elevator as it descended was nothing compared to the one she felt as the
elevator stopped. The feeling traveled her spine and settled in her head. Raising her sword, she
stepped out of the elevator.
"I am Claire Matthews. Show yourself."
The Immortal wasted no time. Appearing from the office, he smiled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to
wake you. It's just bloody hot down here!" Adam noted, slightly amused, that she had come
down in one of MacLeod's T-shirt. Her hair was short and the color of pale wheat, eyes green
and blazing. He surmised her to be 5'9 by where the black shirt came to a stop. Her lean legs
were long and tanned.
Claire's eyes followed the tall, lanky man with the short hair, aware of his scrutiny. "Who are
you?"
"Adam Pierson. I'm sure Mac's mentioned me," he said, standing several feet away.
"No, he hasn't." Claire looked into the hazel eyes, every inch of her prepared for battle.
Adam continued smiling. "An oversight I'm sure."
"How did you get in?"
"Picked the lock," he said. "It's rather late, I'd like to get some sleep . . . "
"Let's just see what Duncan has to say about that."
Adam's eyes looked over shoulder. "That must be him now," he said, when he felt the
Highlander's calling card.
"Adam? What are you doing here?"
Claire lowered her sword upon hearing Duncan's voice, relief washing over her.
"Needed a place to crash."
"Why not a hotel?" asked Duncan.
"Some convention is in town. All booked."
Duncan MacLeod shook his head. He should be use to his friend's unexpected visits. In the few
years he'd known *Adam Pierson* it had always been the same. He'd dropped by whenever he
felt like it and made himself at home. "Why didn't you come upstairs?"
"I saw the Mustang downstairs. Figured you had company for the evening," he said smiling at
Claire.
"Mac, I'm going to bed." To Adam, Claire said, "Next time Pierson don't fool with the
temperature."
Tilting his head Adam grinned as she disappeared back up to the loft. "Feisty one isn't she?"
"You should meet her mother," Duncan said.
"Mother?"
"She'll be here tomorrow. Come upstairs. The couch has missed you." Duncan MacLeod
patted his friend on the back, hoping that Eva Matthews would prove to be a distraction for the
5,000-year-old Immortal.
"MacLeod, you really do need to widen your range in music," he grumbled.
"I put that in," Claire said. "Would you like to have breakfast?"
"Why not?" Adam made his way to kitchen sniffing the air. "Smells good."
"Thanks. Help yourself."
Claire watched as Adam Pierson wolfed down the eggs and toast. She wondered how Duncan
and Adam had met. They seemed to come from opposite ends of the world. She couldn't
imagine Duncan ever showing up without calling first, much less making himself at home
without notifying the *host*.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's not polite to stare?" he asked, between bites of toast.
"You're teaching me manners! What a laugh!" Claire noticed the playfulness in his hazel eyes.
"Mr. Pierson, my MOTHER could give you lessons."
"Speaking of which . . . where is she?" Duncan strolled in, dressed in tan slacks and white shirt.
His dark hair had grown considerably in the last few months, so that he was no able to tie it
back. Since his meeting Claire Matthews four months ago, his life had seemed brighter. One
month ago they had gone to New York to visit Eva. Unfortunately, the visit had been cut short
due to Eva's upcoming trip to Greece. She had promised to visit as soon as she left Greece.
"Eva called from the *hotel*. She should be here in about ten minutes." Picking up the phone,
she said, "I have to make sure the gardener gets to the house today. Those flowers are dying on
me."
Duncan raised an eyebrow at Adam. "Wonder what hotel had rooms available. You might want
to ask her when she gets here Adam."
"Maybe I will." Adam continued eating as if it were his last meal. "Hey, Mac. Got any beer?"
"Beer? So early in the morning?" asked Claire.
"Never too early for beer," Adam replied, opening the fridge.
The drone of the elevator signaled someone was on their way up. The buzz hit all three
Immortals at the same time. Smiling, Claire said, "Must be mom."
When the gate lifted, in entered Eva Matthews, looking every bit as young as her daughter. Her
black hair was pulled into a high pony tail and when she moved the loose curls caressed her
shoulders. Brown eyes huge and smiling, she hugged her daughter, then MacLeod. She said,
"Who else is here?" Towering over her mother's 5'4" frame, she led her to the kitchen.
"Eva Matthews, this is Adam Pierson."
Adam put on his best grin and turned. The face that smiled back had not changed in over 3,000 years.
THE BRONZE AGE
"Where is that woman of ours Methos?"
Methos continued tending to his horse. "She's making more of that brew you enjoy so much."
"Have you given her a name yet?"
"I thought I'd give you the honor, Kronos."
"I take my pleasure of her Methos, nothing more. She's like the others. You seem to be the one
who gets *attached*."
Methos didn't miss the reference to Cassandra. It had been months since she had escaped, no
doubt dying dozens of times along the way. He *had* become somewhat attached to her. It was
different with this one. "It doesn't matter what we call her. I don't have much use for her other
than on her back."
Kronos laughed. "Name her brother. I've taken a liking to her. She does well on all fours as
well. Quite an appetite that one has."
"Very well." Methos looked away from his horse and looked at Kronos. "Duvessa."
"Duvessa," Kronos said.
With a slap to his back, Kronos walked away. "I shall see if I can find our Duvessa. It has been
awhile since I've ridden her. Think she misses me?" That last question did not need an answer.
Methos watched as he wandered around the camp. If the woman was near, he hoped she was
prepared. He had seen women leave Kronos' tent bruised and sometimes bleeding from bite
marks. Unfortunately, for Duvessa, she was Immortal and would recover quickly from any
wounds he inflicted. He kept her in his tent for hours. Methos even suspected he'd killed her
once or twice during his taking of her.
"Methos?"
The hazel eyed Immortal looked in the dark eyes and he felt his heart twitch. "Yes, woman.
What do you want?"
The woman lowered her eyes, hesitating.
"I don't have all day. What is it?"
"If you have no one to . . . share your tent tonight . . . I . . . "
"You wish to be with me tonight. Is that what you ask?"
He saw her dark head nodding and lifted her chin so she would meet his eyes. Her face was
round with large eyes and ample lips. "That would please me. I have a gift for you." He saw
the brown eyes sparkle for an instant. "Today, I will give you a name. Duvessa."
"Duvessa," she repeated as Kronos had done. "What does it mean?"
"It means you are mine for the night. Go wait in my tent."
The woman turned, her lips upturned in a slight smile.
"Duvessa . . . "
"Yes, Methos?" she said, turning her head.
"I expect your best tonight."
"Yes, Methos."
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