Time’s Curse: Highland Time-Travel Paranormal Romance

by Ann Gimpel

  Sean wanted to deny the truth in her words, tell her she was overreacting, but he refused to lie to her. “Ask your owl if that part of your plan is possible.”

  Her expression softened. “Thank you.”

  “Ye needn’t offer thanks—” he began.

  She cut him off. “Look. I know you don’t want me to risk myself. Hell, it’s not my first choice, but neither can I stand by and watch my daughter do what scares the crap out of me.” Liliana stood taller. “I did Kat a disservice when I shielded her from her heritage. If she’d grown up practicing magic, I wouldn’t be so quick to jump in.”

  Worry for her ate at him like acid, but he couldn’t sequester her in a tower. Rapunzel had gone out of fashion a few hundred years before. “Not that I don’t have faith in you”—he was back to English—“but you haven’t exactly put in the time honing your own ability,” he pointed out.

  “Maybe not, but I’m better than she is. Pfft. Mother’s the one who could probably pull this off best, but she’s magical through and through. Sorcerer father, Black Witch mother. Rhea would smell her out damned fast.”

  The air hummed and vibrated with the feel of witch power. Sean’s head snapped around in time to see the owl fly through a rent in the ether, amber eyes glittering with anticipation. After a few circuits of his bedroom, it lit on the edge of his desk.

  Liliana beckoned to it, but it remained where it was.

  “You share my thoughts,” she said, directing her words at her bird. “Is it possible for Katerina and me to trade familiars for a brief time?”

  The owl fluffed its feathers. “I can appear by her side, and the eagle by yours, but the magical connection will be absent.”

  Sean inclined his head. “Thank you for including me in your reply. Do you mean the streamers I’ve seen flowing between you and Liliana?”

  The owl hooted. Sean took it as a yes.

  “Rhea won’t be focused on the fine points,” he said, his words slow and deliberate.

  “My take as well,” Liliana agreed. “If you have what you need, let’s run this by the others.” She picked up her cloak and slung it around her shoulders.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any way to talk you out of it.”

  Liliana shook her head. “How could I stand by and send my daughter—ill-prepared because of my fears for her—into an arena where she’ll have need of the power she only recently discovered she has?”

  Sean wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Liliana, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  She reared back and met his gaze. “I know you will. Keeping all of us safe is high on my list too.”

  He remembered how she’d held onto him, fought for him when Rhea was intent on dragging him backward in time. “We’ll get through this,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

  “Of course we will. And once we have, I want to go away together just the two of us.”

  The owl squawked and flew to her shoulder, latching on. “You too,” she told her familiar. “But then you don’t require an invitation.”

  They hurried from his rooms, intent on locating the others.

  An approving hoot warmed Sean. They had blended power on their side. He tried not to think about dragons and demons and other wicked hell-spawned monsters. They’d be in the thick of it soon enough. He’d fight what was in front of him. And he’d believe in his allies and their invincibility. To put a finer point on it, he believed in Druids and in Liliana. In her clean, pure power, and in her love for her daughter, a love that was driving her to put herself in the line of fire.

  It was the way all battles were won. By holding faith in yourself and your cause as you meted out death one enemy at a time.

  It was long past an early dusk when their convoy of three cars pulled up in a vacant church parking lot a few city blocks from Inverlochy Castle in Fort William. The sky was thick with clouds, but it wasn’t raining or snowing. Not yet, anyway. They’d agreed on the church as a staging area since its religious atmosphere and collection of icons would mask their presence as well as anything. Rhea might have spies in modern time, a distinct possibility since she’d known exactly when to snatch Katerina a few weeks before.

  Kat had been vehemently opposed to her mother’s proposal, but Arlen glommed onto it like a lifeline. No one knew better than him how magically inexperienced his wife was.

  Except maybe Liliana. Between her and Gloria, they’d brought Kat around to Plan B.

  As soon as Sean’s car rolled to a halt Liliana jumped nimbly out, losing herself in a shadowed alcove of the sprawling church. When she emerged, his eyes widened. She could have been her daughter’s twin.

  Gloria regarded Liliana with a critical eye, walking all the way around her. At length, she nodded. “It just might work. If I don’t dig too deep, you feel enough like Katerina to be credible.”

  “I’ll make it work.” Liliana’s words held a fierce undertone. “It’s that way. Right?” She pointed to the west.

  “Aye.” Sean fell into step next to her with Arlen and Katerina right behind them. They’d station themselves in a neighboring crypt, close enough for Liliana to have access to Kat’s eagle. Hopefully their presence wouldn’t be overly noticeable. The spirits of the dead would help with that. They’d compromised on the extent of their warding. It had to be sufficiently dense to partially mask their presence, but not so thick it would eat up precious minutes dismantling, if they needed to move fast.

  The other Druids and Gloria would be on the castle grounds, concealed within Inverlochy’s ruins. Because they were farther away, they wouldn’t employ the bombproof warding that took forever to pull apart, either.

  Sean reached for Liliana’s hand. She laced cold fingers in with his. “I’ll enter the crypt,” she murmured. “Once I’m inside, I’ll call Rhea.”

  “No magic,” he cautioned.

  “I understand.” Her voice was subdued. “Absent magic, she might not hear me, but even if she does she’ll be antsy as a scalded cat, alert for anything out of place.”

  “You may look like Kat,” Arlen said from behind them, “but everyone’s magic has its own unique feel.”

  Sean glanced over a shoulder at Arlen. “She knows that.”

  “Sorry. I was trying to be helpful.”

  “What happens if things go to hell?” Liliana asked.

  “We’ll be right there.” Sean tried to infuse confidence into his words. They’d be there unless she was swept into a portal. Once that happened, they’d have to chase her energy to locate her. Possible, but not the easiest proposition.

  “Aye, we’re becoming seasoned veterans traveling through time,” Arlen murmured.

  “There’s a flat place in the vortex between eras as the veils of time part to allow you through,” Sean said. “’Twill be Rhea’s casting, so she’ll be helpless to alter the destination, but you can.”

  “How? Even in the safety of my own basement, I could barely manage to kindle a spell to take me through time.”

  “Remember the elements of that spell?” Sean asked. Once she nodded, he went on, “The spot where you add a location, concentrate on finding and altering it. You needn’t make much of a change to come out in a different spot from her.”

  “Got it. Once I’m there, I put a reverse casting together?”

  “Aye. You have the elements with you, right?”

  Liliana nodded. “The herb packet is tied in a square of linen in a pocket. The timber shard from your castle too, and the vial of your blood.”

  “Ye gave her your blood?” Arlen’s words were barely audible, but shock ran through them.

  “Och, and I ken ’tis a risk. Still, ’tis also the most expedient way for her to find me and return home.” He and Liliana had chosen not to mention their newly formed bond to the others because neither wanted to divert the group’s attention from the task at hand. The bond made his blood an even greater gift. A drop or two sprinkled on her other ingredients sh
ould bring her right back to him—no matter where he was.

  “The vial is masked with my magic,” Liliana said.

  “Let me take a shot at it.” Kat’s voice was strained. “At least it won’t command Rhea’s immediate attention if it feels like me.”

  Liliana turned and passed a small, stoppered cylinder to Katerina. Magic pulsed and flared before she handed it back.

  A few more steps and they reached the car park for Inverlochy Castle. Because of the hour, it was empty. Liliana drew her cloak more firmly around her. The night was damp and cold, but she probably fought an inner chill as well. Her words clinched his impression.

  “I’m scared, but my fear could work in my favor. No one summons a Roskelly witch lightly.”

  Sean would have traded his life to spare her what would unfold soon, but he’d never been into high drama. The only two realistic options were her or Kat, and he respected Liliana for stepping up to the plate. Some—or all—of them storming the past in search of Rhea and her sisters held far more danger.

  “When you go into the crypt,” Kat said in a low voice, “walk to the end. You’ll find another set of steps. Go down those to the lower level. It’s where she nabbed me from.”

  “Thanks. I’d probably have stopped as soon as I entered the place. Those old gravesites give me the creeps.” Liliana raised a hand. Power crackled from her fingertips, and the owl materialized, quiet for once. The eagle popped into view a few feet away.

  Both flew after her as she crossed behind the castle’s ruins.

  Sean wanted to grab her, hold her tight, and never let go, but it wasn’t how you sent soldiers into battle. Besides, once she started toward the old graveyard, she never looked back. He was at least twenty meters behind her when she ducked into one of the crumbling stone structures dotting perpetually wet grass. The eagle followed her inside.

  The owl landed atop the crypt, fluffed its feathers around itself, and vanished from sight. Sean wasn’t fooled. It would keep watch. If Liliana ran into problems, the bird was better positioned to reach her than he would be.

  Kat and Arlen crawled into a nearby crypt. Smaller than the Cameron one, and in far worse repair, it smelled musty as he crouched to make his way through the partially fallen-in doorway.

  “Over here,” Arlen called softly.

  Sean tripped over a pile of bones as he made his way to the side of the crypt nearest the Cameron final resting place. Druidic power lit the dank space, accompanied by a harsh, grinding noise.

  “What are you doing?” Sean hissed, appalled. “No magic.”

  “All these old crypts had trap doors.” Katerina turned and placed her mouth near his ear. “I found it, and Arlen opened it. Quicker route to Mom if we need one.”

  “I’m done.” Arlen reeled in his power, and darkness claimed the crypt again.

  Sean settled on his haunches and wove a subtle ward around them. If their situation hadn’t been so serious, he’d have teased Arlen and Kat about their mutual love of rooting through dead things. Bones, artifacts, books, cultures. Both were anthropologists, and they lived for places like catacombs and mausoleums.

  He waited, nerves riding a fine edge. He wanted to drape the goddamned Cameron crypt in magic. Something that would trip the moment Rhea showed up. If she sensed Druid magic, though, she either wouldn’t show up…

  Or she’d bring such an unholy host with her, they’d end up in a pitched confrontation they were likely to lose. Rhea wouldn’t give a good goddamn about dragging monsters through a veil they had no business crossing. Or that major disturbances in the psychic balance might spell the end of human life on Earth.

  Time dripped past. At least half an hour. Perhaps more.

  “Do you think she won’t come?” Kat whispered.

  Sean had no idea, but the longer the interval grew, the more uncomfortable it made him. “Five more minutes,” he said.

  “Aye, and then what?” Arlen asked.

  “We gather up Lil and return to Inverness.”

  “Mom wouldn’t want us to do that,” Kat argued, still whispering. “We have to let her call this. We can’t give up for her.”

  Sean shut his jaws with a clack and curled his hands into fists. Why had he agreed with this plan? Surely, if they’d taken more time, another path would have shown itself.

  One that didn’t leave Liliana facing danger all alone.

  So alert he was barely breathing, he felt a disturbance when it first washed over him. A light, exploratory touch that brushed their warding before retreating.

  “She’s here, or she soon will be.” He kept his voice very low.

  “Aye, I felt it too,” Arlen growled.

  Sean dropped to his belly and peered through the opening in the crypt’s stone wall. Nothing had changed. The Cameron crypt looked the same, the owl still invisible. The same dark magic, stronger this time, rolled through the old graveyard, a murky cloud blotting out the night as it oozed through the far end of the Cameron crypt.

  “It’s her. Has to be.” He wanted to use telepathy, but it took magic, and he couldn’t risk it.

  “Do ye suppose the rest of us felt it?” Arlen asked referring to the other Druids across the graveyard.

  Sean had no idea, but he wasn’t going to wait to make certain. He started out of the crypt, slithering on his belly, intent on reaching Liliana before Rhea discovered her deception and flattened the world with her fury. The owl, visible now, flew through the doorway.

  Arlen and Kat crawled out behind him. They’d rehearsed the next part and remained shielded as they hurried into the Cameron crypt. Arlen had an iron blade, sheathed with magic. Once they dropped their warding, it would become visible.

  The plan was to behead the witch and burn her bones.

  At least this crypt allowed him to walk upright, except he was running rather than walking. Smoke rolled through the tight space, greasy and black and air-stealing. The owl had vanished, presumably to the lower level Kat described.

  Not accessing magic beyond what little was required for their warding was an impediment. He stumbled over rocks and bones littering the floor, making enough noise to alert anyone who might be listening. The smoke thickened as he went deeper into the crypt.

  No outraged howls rose from below.

  Something was wrong. Rhea had to hear them. Why wasn’t she reacting? And where the hell was all the smoke coming from? He tossed stealth to the four winds and kindled his power. It blazed with a blue-white light as he pounded down the last set of steps, coughing and choking.

  The minute his warding fell, he knew they’d been outfoxed. Liliana’s energy hung in the air, but she was gone. So was the owl. All that remained were air-stealing fumes. The smoke was magical, so he sent his own power to obliterate it.

  A pitiful moan rose from Kat. “Goddammit. Where is she?”

  The eagle, one wing hanging at an odd angle, the appendage clearly broken, lurched through a rent in the ether cawing imprecations. “Gone. Gone. Smoke. Fire. Gone.”

  “Gone where?” Sean shouted, too desolate to worry about modulating his tone. The bird didn’t answer.

  Katerina scooped her familiar out of the air and held it close.

  Footsteps pounded as Gloria, followed by the other Druids, ran toward them through the thinning web of smoke.

  Sean ignored them all, chanting furiously as he summoned a portal. Liliana’s magical signature was fresh, possible to follow, but he had to hurry.

  “I’m coming with you,” Arlen announced.

  “As am I.” Gloria threaded her power with his.

  “This is my fault,” Katerina said. “I should go.”

  “Nay, lass.” Arlen leveled his gaze on her. “I love you, but ye’d be naught but an impediment.”

  “Agreed,” Gloria said brusquely. “See to your bird. It needs your energy to mend itself.”

  Morgan strode to Arlen’s side. “If I come, we’ll be four. Once we locate Liliana, ’twill make five. Odd numbers have transformative po
wer, and we’ll need every edge we can lay our hands on.”

  Magic boiled and bubbled around Sean. His spell was nearly ready. “Come close,” he instructed through clenched teeth, “and we’ll be gone from here.”

  He held himself together by the thinnest of margins. He had no idea where the casting would take him. He’d instructed it to follow Liliana’s magic like a homing pigeon. No matter where he ended up, though, even in the bowels of Hell, he’d fight for the woman he loved.

  Fight and win, he told himself. Liliana would not die at the hands of her Roskelly ancestors. Or be turned to dark power, either.

  Chapter 13

  Liliana was too nervous to sit, so she paced up and down the lower level of the Cameron crypt. Every once in a while, she flipped a braid forward, checking to make certain her hair was still red. As a witch, her night vision was decent, and Sean had been clear about not employing any magic at all beyond her glamour.

  She talked out loud as she trod up and down the crypt. This level held older remains, mostly bones laid out on slabs. Any accessories they’d taken into Death’s realm with them had long since been pilfered. While her daughter lived for places like this, Liliana had always preferred working with the living.

  She tried for a believable monologue.

  “This is the same spot you found me last time,” she began. “I’ve seen the light. Mom and Gran, they lied to me. No one ever told me I was a witch. Not until you forced their hand. Hell, they led me to believe you were crazy.”

  With the eagle perched on her shoulder, she continued her transit of the underground space. “In any event, I like magic. A lot. I’m ready to claim my heritage. If it’s not too late.”

  She fell silent before repeating the essence of her words. After the third round, she started to wonder if Rhea was going to respond. She’d had plenty of opportunity. She might not be paying attention, but Liliana didn’t think that was it.

  More likely, her grandmother was done with all of them—unless you counted her summoning demons and dragons and going on an all-out attack. She clasped her hands behind her back to resist the temptation to use her power. What she really wanted to do was talk with Sean telepathically—plot out their next moves—but telepathy was off the table for now.