James was right. It was perfect for him. He managed people well, and was careful with coin. In a strange way, his upbringing gave him what Colin called “people skills” to make this modern business work, and work well.
The restaurant they currently sat in was the original Colcannon. It too was decorated in medieval Irish style, but the decor was not as upscale as his New York location. It had a cozier feel; tables and chairs were mismatched, a fire roared in the much smaller hearth, and the bar stools weren’t rooted to the floor. People stood, sat, and milled about, comfortably interacting with each other.
“The food here is delicious,” Emma said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Aye. Liam knows his way about a kitchen,” Aidan agreed, referring to his head chef.
“He certainly does,” Emma agreed. “Welcome back, Reilly. Thanks for letting me crash at your house.”
“I’m happy it was of use to you. I hear you’re headed to Aidan’s home tomorrow?”
“Yes! I can’t wait to see it.”
“Sorry I derailed those plans today. But his house—you’ll enjoy it, to be sure. He secured himself a prime bit of land on the coast. It’s his ancestral holding.”
“A real estate deal gone well,” Aidan corrected.
“Whatever you want to call it,” Reilly said mildly, “his family’s owned that spot for hundreds of years.”
“Family history is fascinating,” Emma responded, her eyes shining. “I traced mine back to England in the 1600s, but that’s as far as I went with it.”
“There must be some Irish in your blood,” Reilly mused.
She raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”
He shrugged. “No reason.”
Aidan drained what was left in his glass. “Ry, no politics. Especially old news politics. Not today.”
“Fair enough,” Reilly agreed easily. “It’s not really politics, though. Merely a bit of discussion.”
“Here we go,” Aidan muttered.
Emma laughed. “While you two start squabbling again, I’m going to head to the ladies’ room.”
After pointing her in the general direction, Aidan watched her until she was out of sight.
Reilly let out a low whistle. “Try not to be quite so obvious in your affections, MacWilliam. I’ve heard it turns the lassies off.”
Aidan raised an eyebrow. “You would know best about turning lassies off, O’Malley.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I suggest you leave it alone.”
Reilly ignored him. “She’s seen your suave side, your business side. She thinks she’s seen the worst you have to offer. But she hasn’t seen your true side. The uncivilized side. Am I right?”
“Enough,” Aidan growled. There was no way in hell she would ever need to know about his uncivilized side. She’d think him daft at best, deranged at worst.
A medieval man, living in the twenty-first century? Oh, aye. She’d laugh herself all the way to the airport.
“It’s a hard tale to believe,” Reilly continued, ignoring him.
Aidan counted to ten, concentrating on his breathing. Sitting in the same room as Reilly O’Malley and not blowing up every time the man opened his mouth was one of his proudest accomplishments. It had taken him almost five years to master the urge to throttle him.
“I honestly thought,” Aidan managed to bite out, “that you and I had come to some sort of peace agreement. Pity. I hate being wrong.”
“Takes a man to admit it,” Reilly offered. “That will serve you well once you marry.”
“I don’t plan to marry,” Aidan grumbled. “Laird’s younger brother. No need.”
“Need. A strong term,” Reilly mused. “If you’ve found your mate, then why fight destiny?”
“Why, indeed?” Switching subjects, he asked, “Care to tell me about your latest escapade into the past?”
Reilly’s face shuttered. “Believe me when I say you’d best not ask.”
For the first time since Aidan had laid eyes on Reilly eight years earlier, he could feel the man’s weariness, as though his soul were tired of its destiny.
“Will you suffer greatly for it?”
Reilly ran a hand over his face. “I do not know. I’m hoping they’ll not care overmuch.”
“Who?”
“The Fates,” Reilly replied.
“Do you mean the Tuatha Dé Danann? They’re mythical—”
“You do not know,” Reilly snapped, then dropped his shoulders. “I answer to a higher power than the Tuatha Dé Danann. You cannot possibly understand, and I hope that you never have to.”
Aidan looked at him speculatively. “How old are you?”
Reilly laughed. “Age is irrelevant where time’s concerned, lad.”
“Are you immortal?”
Reilly shook his head. “No. But I won’t die until they decide it, and they’ve use of me yet.”
“The Fates?” Aidan asked, a tremor passing through him at the thought. Growing up, he’d heard the stories of the Tuatha Dé Danann—powerful druid deities. His clan loved a good story, so Aidan had always taken them for tales of morality and warning. But a higher power?
“I won’t tell you,” Reilly replied firmly.
“Why not?”
Reilly leveled him with a stare. “That’s enough. I’ll wait for you and your lady in the car.” He pushed back from the table and left without another word. Aidan watched him go, his curiosity more than piqued, but Reilly was nothing if not stubborn.
• • •
The next morning, Emma couldn’t sleep. Though it was at least a couple of hours before dawn, she was fully awake, excited to see Aidan’s home. He’d promised her it wasn’t anything spectacular, but she desperately wanted to see him in his own surroundings. She donned a long skirt and long-sleeved shirt, as the mornings tended to be chilly, and quietly headed downstairs to start breakfast.
Walking into the kitchen, she noticed Reilly’s cell phone sitting on the counter. She made a mental note to tell him that it was downstairs, then grabbed a glass from the cabinet and headed to the sink. Her eyes drifted out the back window, and in the predawn mist, she saw Reilly walking toward the woods.
Without giving it a second thought, she grabbed his phone off the counter and ran out the door. He was almost to the trees, and she knew he wouldn’t hear her if she called out, so she picked up her pace. When she got to the forest, she saw him disappear into a thickly wooded area. She called out then, but he didn’t respond.
“Emma!” Aidan bellowed from behind her. She turned. He was headed toward her at a fast clip.
She barely glanced at him, and held up the phone to indicate she was going to give it to Reilly before heading into the forest.
A couple minutes in, though, the entire place seemed to change. There was a thick mist that covered the ground. Every step she took displaced some of the fog, showing her bits of forest floor underneath by the light of the moon. She carefully made her way deeper, looking for any signs of Reilly, before the mist fully descended upon her.
“Uh oh,” she said aloud, turning in a circle.
She could make out large tree trunks, clusters of low-lying ferns, and some tree roots nearby. But everything else remained shrouded in the dense fog, lit by an eerie bluish light.
“Hello, Emmaline.”
Emma shrieked and stumbled backward, tripping on a tree root. She looked up, her jaw slack, as Ben materialized from the haze.
“You are so hard to track down, with your rich new boyfriend covering your tracks. A private jet, Emma? Really?” He slowly walked toward her, his eyes glued to hers. His disheveled clothes matched his rumpled hair, and there was at least a week’s growth of beard on his normally shaved face.
Haggard, Emma thought dimly. He looks haggard.
“We’ve been over this before. You. Are. Mine.”
“We broke up,” Emma said, her voice shaking a little. She clenched her fists. “I’m not yours anymore.”
Ben laughed, a high-pitched
, maniacal sound that frightened Emma more than his threats ever had. “No, Emma. You’re mine forever.”
She scuttled backward, her hands slipping on the wet forest floor. “What do you want, Ben? You took all my money. I’ve got nothing left!”
His smile was gone in an instant. “You’re not listening, Emmaline. I hate it when you don’t listen to me.” He reached around himself and drew a gun from the back of his belt. He stroked it lovingly. “I want you, Emma. You’re mine. But you left to be with him. That’s not all right, Emmaline. No, not at all. I told you. I was nothing but honest, you see.”
She froze, her eyes locked on the weapon held loosely in his hand. “How did you get out of the States, Ben?”
He laughed again, but this time it sounded desperate. “Oh, I owe some big drug lords a lot of money. They can do so much with the power they have. Getting me to you was easy! But you don’t want me anymore. I told you that no one else would ever have you. But you didn’t listen. You never listen, Emmaline.”
Her throat was dry and her body was shaking, but she slowly stood up.
He watched her dispassionately. “You gave yourself to MacWilliam. Now you’re used goods, and I can’t have you again. So that means no one can.” He raised the gun at her, and she opened her mouth to scream—
She was knocked to the ground at the same time the gun fired. Then someone hauled her to her feet and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her away from Ben.
“Run,” Aidan urged, and she didn’t have to think twice. She ran…almost smack into a huge chest.
“Me,” Reilly said quickly, righting her before grabbing her hand. He pulled her deeper into the forest, running as fast as she could go.
“What about Aidan?” she wheezed.
“He’s coming. Keep running, Emmaline.”
She didn’t have to be told that again. She ran with everything she had.
Chapter 11
Aidan knew he wouldn’t make it to MacDermott in time to stop another shot, but he did know that he could melt into the unnaturally thick mist around him in an instant. Decision made, he took a swift step backward and listened for which way Emma had run.
“You think to have her?” MacDermott sneered through the fog, his voice clear. “You know she’s mine, MacWilliam. I’ll find her, or die trying. And if I die, so will she! Your money can’t protect her forever.”
Perhaps not, Aidan thought grimly. But my sword will.
He sent a prayer flying, and headed in the same direction Emma had. MacDermott’s insults were loud, and his threats were pathetic, but Aidan wasn’t stupid. The man had a gun, and a gun won out over a sword every time.
When he’d seen Emma heading into the forest his heart had nearly stopped. Reilly’s woods were notoriously finicky; the time gates located deep in its thickets produced people from all different time periods.
“It’s safe for me,” Reilly had explained, “for I’m a Protector. I can make the time gate work as I need it. If you try to travel through my forest, there’s no telling where you’d end up, MacWilliam. And I’m not going to track you down through the ages, so you’ll have to just live where you lie.”
MacDermott’s slurs and threats faded behind him, leaving him with only the sound of his own breathing.
Where is she? he thought wildly. She wasn’t any safer alone in the forest than she was with MacDermott, though the sight of him pointing a gun at her would haunt him forever. He reached for the sword on his back, comforted by the feel of steel in his hand, and strained to hear anything.
When nothing reached his ears, he carried on, hoping he would be able to find her before she landed in someone’s dungeon.
• • •
Emma gripped Reilly’s hand so tightly she worried she might cut off his circulation. But he didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that she was squeezing it as though it were her lifeline.
Which it was, but that was beside the point.
She noticed his clothing again. The léine wrapped around a really nice tunic, made of what looked like linen. And it had to be handmade, too, for his shoulders were larger than a linebacker’s, and his arms…huge wasn’t a big enough word.
She was glad he was on her side.
He pulled her alongside a tree and glanced around. His shoulders relaxed and he gently pried her fingers from his own.
“He’s gone, lass. All’s well.”
“Aidan’s still with him,” she replied, her voice as shaky as her hands. “He had a gun.”
“I saw. And there were no other gunshots, so we can assume your Aidan is well on his way to us.”
“How does he know where we are, though?” she asked, her teeth chattering from nerves.
Ben had pointed a gun in her face. He had fired it at her.
She began to shake in earnest.
“Hold it together, Emma. Aidan will find us, then all will be well.”
“Ben found me. He found me in a remote part of Ireland, where I’ve been for over a month, without any online presence or cell phone or general contact with the outside world.” She drew a shuddering breath. “How can you say all will be well?”
He patted her hand reassuringly. “Haven’t you ever believed in fate?”
“Maybe when I was young and naïve,” she muttered. If fate was a real thing, it was cruel, to be sure.
“Trust in it,” he advised. He cocked his head as if listening to something, and Emma stiffened, prepared to run again if Ben burst into the small clearing.
However, it was Aidan who appeared, looking for all the world as though he were out for a morning stroll in the forest. She immediately broke away from Reilly and launched herself at Aidan.
“Easy,” he murmured, catching her. “Hey, there’s no need to panic. We’re both fine.”
“Is he dead?” Reilly asked gravely.
“Nay. I only had my sword. To fight him was a fool’s errand,” Aidan replied just as seriously. “We’ll have to think about how he found us later. For now, we have to get Emma to safety.”
“We can’t go back to the house,” Reilly pointed out.
Emma extracted herself from Aidan’s arms as the reality fully sank in.
“He’ll always find me,” she whispered. “He won’t stop until I’m dead. I have nowhere to go.”
“Nay,” Aidan said slowly. He looked at Reilly meaningfully. “There is one place he can’t reach you.”
Reilly groaned. “I’ll be knee-deep in manure if I bring you both with me.”
“Her life is in the balance,” Aidan pointed out.
“Where do you want to go?” she asked. “Because if it saves my life, I’m in.”
Reilly’s gaze sharpened. “Are you absolutely certain about that?”
She nodded vigorously. She didn’t want to die. She wanted a safe place where she could regroup and think through her options for getting away from Ben.
Reilly and Aidan shared a look, then some sort of silent man-communication passed between them. Emma didn’t bother trying to read into it; man-speak was beyond her under the best of circumstances. Trying to decipher it while on the run from a man with a gun who wanted to use it on her? She had bigger things to worry about.
“All right,” Reilly finally muttered. Aidan grinned, and Emma just tugged on both their hands.
“Well then, let’s get going! Come on!”
• • •
Aidan slid his final dirk inside his boot, steeling himself for what lay ahead. Aside from the dangers of the travel itself, he was concerned about ambush attacks, finding food, and getting to safety.
But most of all, he was concerned he wouldn’t be able to get Emma back to the twenty-first century.
After sneaking back toward the house, Reilly met Aidan and Emma about a mile from his side of the forest. Reilly drove them the half hour to the site of Dowth, and as each minute dragged out Aidan became more withdrawn, but his mind stayed alert and sharpened its focus, reminding him of his battle days.
C
ian sat in the front seat, his own posture vigilant. Aidan knew that beneath his léine, all sorts of weaponry lay strapped against him. Despite being a quiet man, Cian had remained faithful to him and the MacWilliam clan. Aidan prayed for a hero’s welcome for him when they returned. After swearing loyalty to first Nick, then Aidan, the man stuck by his word.
Emma sat beside him, her hands clasped in her lap as her eyes devoured the landscape. He watched as she tucked a stray piece of her blonde hair behind her ear, and felt the burden of his decision weigh heavily. He knew he was keeping her alive by anchoring her to his side, but he also knew that came at a price, and she had no idea how much it might cost her. She might wish herself dead after seeing him in his natural environment of cold, war, and hunger.
He glanced down at his satchel on the floor. Emma had declared it a nice accessory when she saw it, but it held much more than just visual value. Food and gold were tucked inside—the former he expected to get them through the first couple nights, and the latter to get them out of a friendly dungeon. The sword in the trunk, he hoped, would be the backup plan.
Backup plans, he was beginning to notice, were used more often than the primary ones.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Emma asked him softly, so Reilly and Cian couldn’t hear her. “You’re very quiet.”
Aidan nodded, but didn’t answer. After a moment, she patted his knee and turned to look out the window.
He caught her hand before she pulled it away, and held it in place. She looked at his hand, then into his eyes, and a shy smile crept across her face. She gave him a small, reassuring squeeze.
A tiny part of his soul breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, Emma, what’s your favorite thing about the Middle Ages?” Reilly asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
“Please don’t say courtly love,” Cian grumbled from the front seat.
She shrugged. “No, Cian, although I’m sure that was one of the lovelier parts. And it was more England than Ireland, after all. I think the most fascinating thing was how clans worked. It seems like, from everything that’s published, clans only banded together in times of war.”
An Enchanted Spring: Mists of Fate - Book Two Page 15
