by Eno, Laura
"Did. You. Know." Ian spit the words out one at a time, his hands curling into fists.
"What are you talking about? Honestly, Ian, sometimes I can't fathom what you're saying. Come sit down and relax." Robert moved over to a chair and beckoned him to take the sofa. Ian sank into it and held his head in his hands. "Tell me what's troubling you."
"Her." Ian gulped at the air in a shuddering breath. "Deanna Cameron. Robert, did you realize she's my soul mate?"
"Hmm. Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure." Ian exploded out of his seat and paced over to the door.
"While you're up, be a good lad and pour me some coffee, will you?"
Ian whirled and scrutinized his mentor but Robert only held up his cup with a bland smile on his face.
He walked over and wrenched the cup out of the man's hands, seething as he poured coffee into it from the carafe on the bar. "Is that all you have to say, 'Get me some coffee'?"
"What would you have me say? I'm sorry? Tough luck? That phase of your life is over now. You know that." He took the cup and sipped at the hot liquid as Ian sat back down.
"It doesna have to be. Send her back—back to me in the 16th century. We belong together." Ian raked a hand through his hair, his eyes darting everywhere but at Robert's face. What if he refused? His heart hammered as he waited for a reply.
"You mean to trap the woman in the 16th century? What kind of a life would that be for her?" Robert's eyebrows crawled up his forehead as Ian finally glanced at him.
"I know it would be hard for her—at first," Ian pleaded. "But she'd be loved. Isna that better than what you planned for her, to end her life now and be recycled? Her soul mate doesna exist in the Well anymore."
Robert leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on his cup, his eyes unfocused as he stared into the distance. Ian fought the urge to jump up again as he let the man think.
"You say she'd be loved but we both know it'd only be for a short time. Your fate cannot be changed, my old friend." Robert looked saddened as Ian watched him. He tried a different tack.
"Would you condemn my entire clan this way? They dinna exist because of my actions. This would be a second chance."
"You know the Aeneas' choices in this matter. Would you have us abandon our sacred duties as Guardians and act like the Conrí?" Robert had pity in his eyes but Ian only felt the agony burrowing through his emotions. It was as he'd feared. He had no recollections of Deanna because Robert had refused his request.
"It might be better for all concerned if you didn't have any contact with the Cameron woman while she's here," Robert continued. "I'll handle the evaluations."
Ian left quietly, his thoughts in turmoil. The power of an Immortal thrummed through his veins yet he felt as helpless as a newborn kitten. There had to be something he'd overlooked. The race against the inevitable didn't leave him much time to find it.
***
After ushering Ian out of the office, Robert poured another cup of coffee and hummed an old tune as he worked on his papers. Sometimes love was a bitch, as he'd heard a few of the young people say. Ian's grief would become even worse in the coming days, and for that he was sorry, but the lad needed to pass through the fire. The Aeneas Council agreed.
Looking at his watch, Robert knew it was time to check in on Deanna and see how she was faring. She would have made an excellent addition to the staff as a mortal. He'd be sorry to see her go.
Turning the corner into her third story office, Robert saw the smile on Deanna's face as she thumbed through old copies of the magazine and took notes. He knocked on the open door when she didn't look up.
"Oh! Come in. My mind was a million miles away."
"I didn't want to startle you." Robert smiled and perched on the chair in front of the desk, already cluttered with layouts and ads. "I wanted to see how you were settling in."
"Great. You have an excellent staff here." It was easy to see how comfortable she already felt by her enthusiasm. "I love the spread coming up for the fall issue—haunted vacations. That will be fun to work with."
"I'll let you get back to work." Robert stood and headed for the door.
"Thank you for this opportunity," Deanna called out to him. "I think I'm going to love it here."
"You're most welcome," he replied and left to make his rounds.
***
Ian waited until Robert left before taking his own walk down the hallway on the third floor, despite having told himself he wouldn't go near her. It didn't matter anyway. He could sense her anywhere in the building now, ever since he'd almost come face-to-face with her this morning.
As he inched close to her open door, he could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat as if her body pressed close to his. Shaking hands closed into balls so as not to reach out to her. He closed his eyes to block out all external interference and let his imagination flow.
She looked up at him, blue eyes half-closed as her soft lips invited his kiss. The suit he wore pained him as his erection strained the fabric but still he didn't move. Her heartbeat sped up as he gathered her in his arms…
His eyes snapped open. Her heartbeat had sped up. Was there someone else in the room with her? Someone she found desirable? His eyes narrowed and he risked walking by the door, stealth lending him the silence of a big cat.
No one was in there with her. Deanna had her eyes closed as she sat behind her desk. Ian couldn't tear himself away from the sight of her. She opened her eyes again and he hurried out of sight, rounding a corner just as she reached her doorway and scanned the empty hall.
Ian moved on, shaken by what he'd just witnessed. Had she sensed him the same way he sensed her? Mortals weren't generally capable of that. He'd have to be more cautious, only tapping into her essence from a distance.
He shouldn't be thinking of her at all but Ian knew it was far too late for that.
Chapter Seven
Something brushed her mind as Deanna scribbled notes onto a pad. Her hand halted and she closed her eyes as the feeling grew. The sensual tingle startled her with a rush of longing. Her lips parted as her heart pounded to a beat of desire.
Deanna's eyes flew open and she gripped the edge of the desk for support. What just happened? A shadow figure raced past the doorway as she glanced up. Embarrassed, she wondered if someone had been standing there while she'd gone into her little trance. Hurrying over to the door, she gazed down the hallway. No one was there. All this talk of haunted properties had her jumping at shadows.
Fiona poked her head inside the door a short while later. "Are you still here? It's Friday night. Go have a bit of fun in town."
Deanna smiled at the thought. It might be fun at that but she didn't have her bearings yet. "I'll probably curl up with a movie tonight. I haven't had a chance to meet people yet."
"I hear a lot of people your age talking about the Iron Horse," Fiona said. "It sounds like a great club."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." Deanna watched Fiona leave with a wave of her hand and sat back with a bemused smile on her face. People her age? Fiona couldn't be more than a few years older but she made it sound like they were decades apart.
Whatever. It was time to call it quits anyway. Working all afternoon without a break had put a kink in her shoulder. She'd take a long shower and go eat a late dinner. Her next two days were free for the weekend. Maybe she'd wander through the town, although it'd be more fun with another person. Perhaps Cassie had some free time. Deanna decided to call and ask her.
Deanna didn't have to make the call—Cassie had already left a message for her on the phone in the apartment, wanting to know if she'd like to go out with the group tonight. Hurrying to take a shower and change, Deanna had just enough time to meet the group in the lobby.
***
Ian stood in the shadows as Deanna met with a few people in the lobby. One of the men touched her on the shoulder, eliciting a low growl from Ian's throat. He reminded himself that Deanna should have friends to relax with—but he didn't like the attention
the male showed her. He gloated when she sidestepped the man's arm.
Drifting out the door after them, he smiled as she got in her own vehicle to follow. That made sense; the others lived in town and would be inconvenienced to bring her back here. Ian struggled with the notion of following her. He didn't have the right to spy on her activities.
Snow fell in his face as the trail of taillights disappeared from view. He felt her excitement, a strong counterpoint to his glum mood. Leaden feet carried him back inside the building; every step back to his apartment more difficult than the last.
Would having Deanna in his arms for one night be so wrong? He looked at his empty bed, imagining her lying on top of the fur cover with a gleam in her eye as she beckoned him closer.
Ian shook his head at his own idiocy. She'd never give him that night. She didn't even know him. He spun around and reached for the bottle of scotch on the bar, sloshing some into a glass before settling in a chair.
A few hours had passed when Ian felt Deanna's stab of fear. It ripped through his mind, then disappeared. Without thinking, Ian jumped to the source.
Her car lay in a ditch about a mile from Light Street. His blood boiled when he saw the blackguard who stood beside her door, about to reach in and grab an unconscious Deanna.
Robert, come now! His mind bellowed even as he launched himself at her attacker. The man hissed, leaving off his prey to deal with Ian. He circled around into a better position, withdrawing a long dagger from his belt.
Ordinary weapons couldn't hurt Ian but magical ones could. He knew this man was one of the Conrí. The magic swirled around him in a powerful aura. He'd been foolish to jump here without any way to defend Deanna or himself but it hadn't occurred to Ian that the Conrí would try to harm her. Stupid. Especially given that circumstances had dropped his soul mate—one the Conrí had banished from the Well of Souls—right into his life again.
Robert appeared and tossed him a sword. At least he came prepared, Ian thought with chagrin. I'm getting sloppy and complacent in this new century. There was a time when he'd have never been caught without a dirk strapped to his side and a sgian dubh hidden in his clothing.
Although Ian wanted to rush to Deanna's side, his first duty was to remove the threat. Robert would see to her safety while he got rid of this cur.
The Conrí ducked in close, trying to avoid his sword while attempting to skewer him with the shorter dagger. Ian leapt back far enough to swing his longer weapon, just missing a strike as the man blocked it with a jarring force. Without giving the Conrí time to recover, Ian swung from the other direction, cutting him at the neck. The creature howled in frustration, taking a wild stab at the air. Ian swung his blade over his head and brought it down to slash at the man's legs.
The Conrí dove toward him during the arc, throwing himself into the blade of the sword, effectively committing suicide rather than be captured. Not that Ian wanted a trophy.
"I always knew recruiting a highland warrior would come in handy," Robert said, his droll voice hiding the humor behind the statement. They'd had this conversation a few times over the centuries.
"It wasna my fault. You saw what happened."
"I know. I guess he had his orders." Robert moved aside as Ian rushed over to where Deanna lay in the snow. "She's fine, just unconscious. I'll get her back home before she wakes up."
"Are you sure she's all right?" Ian looked at the cut on her cheek, wanting more than anything to gather her in his arms and never let go.
"I'm sure. Just a few bruises." Robert cocked his head at him. "By the way, how did you know she was here?"
"I dinna kin. I felt her fear and knew she was in trouble. Maybe because she's my soul mate. Robert, you must send her back to me!"
Robert blew out a breath, the frigid air steaming in front of his face. "We'll talk later. Let me get her out of this snow bank before she freezes."
Ian immediately stepped aside, having forgotten she was at the mercy of the elements. It was something he hadn't had to think about for five hundred years. As Robert left with Deanna in his arms, Ian felt more alone than ever.
Chapter Eight
Ian's feet pounded the carpet as he paced across his own living room. Robert had ordered him out of Deanna's apartment, sending Fiona in to watch over her while they talked—not that Ian felt like discussing the matter.
"They're out to kill her. What more proof do you need?" Ian stopped in front of Robert and glared at his mentor.
"Not necessarily." The older man held up a hand in caution. "In fact, I think they meant to draw you out. The Conrí's mission isn't to destroy human life but rather to stop the pairing of soul mates."
"Why? Why hurt her if they wanted me? That doesna make sense." Ian flopped into a chair and stared out the window, pulling at his bottom lip.
"Fate's efforts to bring you back together, I suppose." Robert sighed, running a hand through his thick hair. "They can't touch you here, not with the wards surrounding the property."
"The magical wards didna help Deanna tonight." Ian knew he sounded bitter and took a deep breath. "Send her back, Robert. She'll be safe with my mortal self."
"What makes you believe that?" Robert looked at him and Ian had the impression the man knew more than he was admitting.
"What havena you told me?"
Robert shifted in his seat and didn't speak for a moment. He locked eyes with Ian and seemed to deflate. "The Aeneas Council thinks that most of the soul pairings stolen from the Well are from your bloodline."
"Why didna you tell me this before?" Ian jumped up to pace again. Nervous energy thrummed through his veins with nowhere to go. He wanted to smash somebody's head in, confront the Council—anything but sit here feeling helpless. His hands curled into fists and pounded against his thighs. The wee lass in the next apartment didn't deserve any of this.
"She has more strength than you realize," Robert said, apparently reading his thoughts. "More than she's aware of at the moment. Don't worry about her."
Robert stood up. "Fiona's calling me. It seems Deanna's awake. Stay here."
Ian watched him go, common sense warring with his desire to follow Robert and see for himself that Deanna was all right. He fell to his knees and did something he hadn't done in over five hundred years—plead with Brìghde, the Goddess of healing, to watch over Deanna and keep her safe. It seemed he couldn't.
***
Deanna opened her eyes and groaned. Her head throbbed and the left side of her face stung. She reached a hand up to feel her cheek when something shifted in her peripheral vision.
"I imagine you have a headache."
Robert's voice. In her bedroom. She let out a squeak, then images flooded into her mind. "Oh! I was in my car…"
"Rest a minute. Here, take this." He handed her a couple of pills and a glass of water which she gulped down without hesitation. Her head hurt so bad…
"Someone was standing in the road. He came out of nowhere." Deanna couldn't draw enough breath into her lungs; her heart began to slam against her ribs. "Did I hit him?"
"No. We didn't see anything. You slid off the street and bumped your head. It happens in the snow."
"I'm sure I saw someone." Deanna frowned and her headache retaliated with an extra shot of pain. She quickly relaxed her features again.
"Perhaps an animal ran across the road. The eyes can play tricks on you at night."
Deanna didn't think so but Robert's voice soothed her and she yawned, suddenly very tired. Maybe that wasn't aspirin.
"How did…" She meant to ask how he found her but the words disappeared. It didn't matter. The floating was nice—warm like a cocoon.
***
Deanna woke with light streaming in the window. She lay on the bed fully clothed with a blanket pulled over her. Had she stumbled in drunk last night? She could count the times on one hand that she'd done that. Besides, she left early, if she remembered correctly. Michael was a nice guy but he wouldn't take no for an answer, as if wearing her d
own with compliments would make her say yes to a date.
No…there was something about her car. An accident? Her hand flew to her cheek and found a rough scab. She'd cut herself.
Robert was there. No, he was here, in her bedroom. She shook her head. Nothing made sense. Her muscles protested as she got out of bed but a hot shower fixed the worst of it.
As she sat back down on the bed, a feeling of being watched came over her. Invisible fingers trailed over the cut on her cheek with a feathery touch, moving across her lips and then down to her neck. Deanna closed her eyes and gave herself over to the feeling. It was like a dream only she was sure she was awake—wasn't she?
The sensuous hand kept going, causing her nipples to harden as it reached inside of her robe. Her breath quickened and she arched back, glimpsing a muscled arm attached to the hand. A tattoo encircled his bicep and as he moved a little closer, she could see a broad chest.
Shadows still clung to his face and she shifted forward, trying to find the rest of him. He laughed softly, the low voice practically purring as he moved back. "No yet, mo chridhe."
The vision—or whatever—faded, leaving Deanna panting with desire. Such a deliciously slow tease… Was he even real?
She came back to her senses with a start. What was going on? "I'm really messed up," she muttered. "I'm either inventing my own dream hunk or I'm lusting after a sexy ghost." Either option didn't look very promising. What would have happened if she'd tried to touch him?
"Get real. And quit talking to yourself out loud. People will think you're crazy. Find some nice normal guy to date—like Michael." She winced as a primal scream battered her mind. Something didn't like that idea. Whether it was her subconscious or ghost-man was hard to tell.
"Ok, Michael's out." She listened but there was only silence. Laughing like a loon, she got dressed and went to find something to eat.
Chapter Nine
Three days later, the sensation of being watched happened again. This time she stayed perfectly still, as if she didn't notice. Slowly sifting through the stack of papers in front of her, Deanna turned her eyes to the left until the muscles strained in protest. A tall, muscular man in a well-cut suit stood watching her, his dark hair framing a chiseled face that threatened to steal her breath away. He was gorgeous. Why hadn't she noticed him in the building before?
