by Eno, Laura
"Which ones? Each civilization had its own." Deanna couldn't figure out where the conversation was heading. Weren't the people here Calvinists or Catholics? She couldn't remember.
"Each civilization had their own names for the Gods, but the Gods are the same," Ian replied. "I was wondering if you adhered to the old beliefs, 'tis all, to the magic of the Immortals and their gifts."
"Gifts?" Deanna shook her head, thoroughly confused. "I guess I really don't know much about them—not in an up close and personal way."
"They say we live different lives. When we die we are transported to the Tobar d'anamacha—the Well of Souls—to be recycled. Sometimes, we are blessed with meeting our soul mate in one of those lives." Ian ended the conversation at that point, letting the sounds of clanging swords fill the space where his words ended.
The words soul mate reverberated inside Deanna's head, seeking a place to land. Her hand, tucked into Ian's much larger one, began to sweat.
The words on the odd sign behind the reception desk at Lightning Street came back to her, as well as the strange email she'd received inviting her to come work for them in the first place. The ghost who seemed to be Ian, enchanting Deanna in her dreams, rose in front of her now.
And then there was Robert, a man seemingly at the center of it all. He wouldn't look out of place wearing a tartan and swinging a sword. He had sent her to Scotland, to the castle of Ian Mackay.
Deanna stifled a gasp and gripped Ian's hand harder. Was that why she was here?
Ian lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Are you well? The bloom on your cheek is lost. You dinna have to stay if this upsets you."
"No, it's not that." Deanna tried to calm the thoughts exploding in her head. "I'm fine, really."
She was far from fine but he couldn't help her sort out her feelings right now. Ian didn't have the future pieces to the puzzle—only she did. But what did it all mean?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Quite a crowd had gathered to watch the contest between the Munro and Mackay warriors, including many villagers. Ian had a hard time concentrating on anything but the woman standing beside him, though. He kept glancing over at her instead of cheering his men on. She had a faraway look in her eyes and gnawed her bottom lip. Did she regret what happened between them?
"Are you sure you're all right?" He couldn't help but ask. His tension drained away when she turned, a sparkle in her eyes as she seemed to study him.
"I'm fine, just…distracted." Her gaze swept over his shoulder and her body stiffened. "Fiona? What's she doing here?"
"Who?" Ian turned around and looked at the crowd. "I dinna know any lass by that name."
"She's gone now but I could have sworn… Never mind. It's impossible anyway. The woman was someone from my time." Deanna slid her hand into his and smiled up at him, pointing to the battle in the practice yard. "Who's winning?"
He laughed at her question. "We are, of course."
***
Boulder, May 2012
Ian bolted upright off the sofa in Robert's office, interrupting the man in the middle of a sentence. "No! It canna be."
"What's wrong?" Robert stood up, alarm twisting his features.
"Deanna just saw Fiona in a crowd in my mortal time and mentioned her to me. Why would she be there?"
Robert's face grew dark with anger. "I think we've found our Conrí sympathizer. She wouldn't have had any business watching you at that time unless instructed to do so. I know the Aeneas Council didn't have a reason to send her. Only I knew of your unique situation."
"She will be getting that same memory of seeing Deanna just as I did, right?" Ian ran to the door with Robert right behind him. "Where is she now?"
"In her apartment," Robert grumbled. "She's not covering her agitation either. I can read her desperation to leave quickly."
They both jumped straight into her quarters, bypassing the elevator and ignoring protocol that frowned on invading someone's privacy. Ian could hear Fiona thrashing around in the bedroom as drawers opened and slammed closed again.
Her mouth dropped open as they strode in but she recovered in a moment, her lips pressed in a thin line and her chin jutting out as she glared at them.
"Why?" Robert asked. Ian saw the pain etched on his face. "You're being played for a fool."
"So you say, Kyndeyrn." She sneered at Robert as she called him by his real name. "I'm helping the human race to live, not end it. The Aeneas are arrogant, believing they are equal to the Gods. Lugh has shown the Conrí differently."
Lugh? That was the first time Ian had heard the name of that God in connection with the Conrí. He glanced over at Robert but found no change in expression.
Fiona jerked her head over at Ian. "Why did you save him? If you're going to execute me anyway, I'd like to know."
Robert gave her a disgusted look. "I had my reasons. As for executing you, the Aeneas do not murder our fellow Guardians, no matter how wayward they may be."
Her defiant mask slipped a little. Apparently, the Conrí had told her otherwise. "What are you going to do to me then?"
"Nothing," Robert replied in a mild voice. "You are free to make your own choice—after the Council interviews you."
Ian watched her hand tremble as Robert started chanting. It was the only part of her that could still move. Even he felt the command to stand still as the room took on a glow, the power surging until the air filled with a crackling electricity. The light burst with a final display of brilliance before settling back into proper daylight. When Ian's eyes cleared, he saw two black-robed figures standing next to Robert.
He and Robert both dropped to their knees in the face of such power as these beings wielded. Ian had never met any of the Council before. They were certainly more than Guardians.
Ian's mind filled with images of an Otherworldly place, its beauty bathed in light emanating from a golden pool of water. He must be seeing the Well of Souls, an honor he'd never hoped to achieve. Dread crawled up his spine as he wondered why they were granting him this glimpse now.
Fiona faded from sight first, then the two who'd come left as well. Ian fell to the floor as the power released him. Robert hadn't fared any better, sprawled on the carpet next to him.
"What will they do to Fiona?" Ian asked as he stood back up. He raked a hand through his hair, still trying to absorb what he'd just witnessed.
Robert shrugged as if it were of no importance. "It depends on how much damage she's done. If she was only a follower of the Conrí, they'll let her go. If she was involved in the disappearance of any human, they'll strip her powers and confine her to the Otherworld. Either way, she's no longer Aeneas. The wards have been marked to detect her presence as a combatant."
They stepped into the elevator as Ian thought that over. "Why would you let her go join the Conrí and strengthen their numbers?"
Robert sighed, a deep sorrow etched on his face. "It has to do with free will. We all have that choice, even if it's a bad one."
"You've known others who made that decision, havena you?" That sudden insight hit Ian hard.
"Yes. A long time ago." Robert didn't elaborate so Ian dropped it and changed the subject.
"Why did the Council members show me the Well?"
"Did they?" Robert's brow creased as he looked at him. "I'm not sure why. I suppose they had their reasons."
That didn't settle Ian's uneasiness. "They willna recycle me now…with Deanna already in my past?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. You are an Immortal now. You can't be recycled."
Ian released the breath he'd been holding. That could have negated Deanna's entire journey to his past. No telling when—or if—they'd meet up again.
"But it might mean they have other plans for you in the future," Robert continued. Somehow, that didn't make Ian feel any better.
"Fiona mentioned the God Lugh." Cold sweat trickled down Ian's back.
"Yes. Now you see your unique position in what is to come."
Ian let out a
growl. "Position? You mean dilemma, dinna you?" Lugh, the God of the Druids, a hero God. The God of fire—the symbol of the Mackay. The God of the Conrí? It didn't make sense.
"It doesn't mean that Lugh condones the Conrí's actions," Robert said quietly. "I see your…position as meaning your clan is pivotal in stopping the war between the Gods from happening. We don't even know which Gods are contemplating war. You worship Brìghde as well?"
Ian nodded, too frustrated to speak. Lugh and Brìghde, God and Goddess, both skilled with magic. Both of the Tuatha Dé Danann. They stood on opposite positions of the sacred wheel of the year. Did they also stand on opposite sides? His clan straddled the battlefield. Ian couldn't imagine a fate worse than that.
Chapter Thirty
Highlands, May 1505
Mairi slid her hand around Deanna's elbow, giving it a slight tug. She hadn't noticed the girl standing next to her and jumped.
"Are you coming to my wedding? I'd like to have you as my traveling companion." Mairi's large green eyes silently pleaded with Deanna to say yes.
"Sure…I guess so. Where are we going?" She had assumed the wedding would be here.
"To the Mackenzie. That's who my betrothed is. Wait till I tell mother you said yes!" She skipped off toward the keep, leaving Deanna with a grin on her face.
Ian nudged her shoulder. "What are you smiling about?"
She shrugged and turned her head to look at him. "I don't know. Your sister's enthusiasm, I guess. It would have been nice to grow up having a sister around to share things with."
"I'm no so sure about that one. She gets her way too often." He said it with great affection in his voice, though.
Deanna envied Ian's close ties with his family. Her own father was all alone now. The smile faded from her face as she remembered that.
"Did I say something wrong?" Ian lifted his hand to caress her cheek.
"No. I was just thinking about my father. He doesn't have anybody left now." She already knew what her father would say if she traveled home again just to be with him. He'd tell her she should have stayed here, if this was where her heart wanted to be.
The contest had ended, the Mackay warriors winning eight out of ten matches. The two that lost cheerfully took up their posts on the curtain wall to pull a double shift. The rest, Mackay and Munro alike, headed to the barracks to share ale and swap stories.
Ian led her into the keep, speaking with others but never dropping his arm from around her shoulders. Once inside the door he kissed her on the forehead with a light touch.
"I must go congratulate the men. I'll see you at supper?" He spun around and walked back out the door, leaving her perplexed…and disappointed.
Deanna shook it off and laughed at her fantasies. He couldn't drop his obligations to sweep her up to his room and ravish her body. What did she expect?
Hanging around indoors didn't appeal to her so Deanna walked back into the trees where she'd spent the morning with Ian. The dampness settling into the air ushered in a layer of fog, giving the trees an ominous look. She shivered slightly and wondered if this had been such a good idea. Even the birds fell silent.
One tree caught her attention; its bark chipped and scarred like someone had cut it repeatedly with a knife. Deanna ran a hand over the wide trunk, wondering what happened to it.
Something snapped behind her and she whirled toward the sound. "Who's there?"
No one answered. She listened but all she could hear was her own ragged breathing. The fog made it impossible to see for more than a few feet. Maybe a squirrel had knocked a pinecone off a branch.
Deanna took a step and stumbled over a rock, falling to her hands and knees. A thud sounded right above her head as she hit the ground, showering tiny bits of bark into her hair. Running footsteps echoed through the mist before she could react.
Fear held her frozen in place but she heard nothing else. She glanced up to see a knife jutting out of the tree right where her head had been moments before.
That galvanized her into action and she ran, hiking her skirts up and out of the way. She bypassed the keep, not stopping until she'd reached the barracks. That was where Ian had said he'd be and she wouldn't feel safe until she'd told him what had happened.
The thick door hurt her hand as Deanna pounded against it, not making as much noise as her heart did slamming against her ribs. Kicking it in her flimsy slippers wouldn't help much either, except to possibly break a few toes.
By some miracle, they heard her over the sounds of rowdy singing and shouting and swung the door open. Deanna fell through the empty space and into the arms of a guard.
"Ian," she choked but saw that he and Munro were already moving toward her.
"What happened to your hands?" Ian grabbed her wrists and turned her palms up to expose the bloody scrapes. Deanna hadn't even felt that in her panic.
Now that he stood next to her, it all seemed surreal. "Someone threw a knife at me." His grip tightened to a painful grasp on her wrists and she tried to wiggle free.
"Who?" His voice thundered and the room fell silent of voices, every man jumping into battle-readiness around them. Ian waved them off, leading her outside with Munro and Tomas following in his wake.
"I didn't see who." Deanna gulped in the cool air and pointed toward the trees. "I took a walk and fell down right as a knife hit the tree above me."
"Show us where, lass." Munro withdrew his sword and circled around to the right, while Tomas took the left. Ian kept his arm tight around her waist.
Deanna led them into the trees and over to the one with all the scarring. The knife was gone, although the evidence of her fall to the ground was still there. A patch of bare dirt lay uncovered with piles of pine needles pushed into untidy clumps where her hands had slid them out of the way.
"Are you sure it was this tree?" Ian asked as the others spread out.
"Yes, I'm sure!" Her temper flared now that the threat was over. "You can see where I fell."
"I believe you. Can you describe the knife?" He fingered the tree where a thin ribbon of fresh sap bubbled on the bark while she described it.
"'Tis a dirk, common enough that it willna lead us to whoever did this." His eyes grew dark with worry as he gazed at her. "I want you to remain in the keep until we discover who tried to hurt you."
Deanna jerked away from him. "That's ridiculous! I'm not going to be locked away like some hothouse flower."
"You'll do as I say. It's for your own protection, lass."
"Don't tell me what to do." She kicked his shin when he grabbed for her arm, hurting her foot in the process. Damn slippers. She would start wearing her boots again, even if they looked stupid with her dresses.
Deanna limped off, heading back to the keep on her own and away from the pig-headed Scot who both inflamed her desire and fueled her rage. She'd learn to defend herself. If Ian wouldn't teach her, then maybe Munro would. It was worth a try.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ian tried to puzzle out who might want to hurt Deanna. One of the villagers? It didn't seem likely but he had to consider it. Maybe the woman Deanna had mentioned; the one she called Fiona. Whoever it was, Ian would keep her safe until they found the intruder, even if he had to place a guard on her door. The stubborn woman would get herself killed from failing to listen to him.
He ground his teeth in frustration. She'd need to be taught a thing or two about who was in charge.
"Nobody's in this area." Tomas came up to him. Munro followed close behind and shook his head.
"All right. I want you to assign a guard to shadow Deanna at all times," Ian told Tomas who nodded and left to carry out his order.
"You dinna think she'll stay inside the keep?" Munro asked.
Ian snorted and rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"
"I think the lass has spirit." He grinned like a besotted lad over his first fancy.
Ian cocked his head, feeling a flush heat his skin. "Stay away from her. She's mine."
"Only if s
he wishes it." Munro smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "The lass isna going to bow to what anyone says. Mind your manners with that one." He walked away laughing, leaving Ian to stare after him.
That woman had hardened warriors eating out of her hand. Ian tried to still the blood thundering in his head as he stalked back to the keep.
Deanna rose from her meal as he entered the dining hall, ignoring him as she departed up the stairs. She managed to move gracefully even though she'd donned those strange boots of hers, the ones she'd first arrived in. Ian shook his head and stifled a laugh. No doubt, she had plans to kick him again.
***
Deanna paced across the wood floor of her room, tensing at each sound as she waited for Ian to follow her in here. Her boots made a racket, feeling heavy and stiff as she walked. She'd already become accustomed to the soft leather slippers.
After waiting several more minutes, she kicked the boots off. He hadn't followed her after all. Deanna sank onto the sofa, wondering why she felt dejected about that.
Soon the glow of the fire was the only light in the room and Deanna drowsed in front of it, mesmerized by the dancing flames. She didn't hear the door click open, nor the footsteps cross the room until someone stood behind her.
She knew it was Ian. Something about him heightened her awareness of his body when he was near. A slow warmth spread through her veins, charging her with a sexual heat that was impossible to hold back any longer. Deanna made up her mind and rose to face him.
He stood still, reading her movements as she rounded the sofa to face him, the color of his eyes sparking in the firelight. One eyebrow rose as she brought a hand up to his face, tracing her fingertips over his lips. She sighed as he kissed them but otherwise didn't move. Ian was giving her a choice.
"I want you," she simply stated as every part of her body sizzled with raw energy at being so near him.
"Choose carefully, lass. There's no going back." His hand slid down her neck and she shivered at the finality of his words.
