Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance)

by Geralyn Beauchamp

  But she did not want to go.

  Come back tomorrow. Please. The man’s eyes spoke with such intensity Shona unexpectedly gasped.

  She looked deeply into them, her own filling with an unfamiliar emotion. I will…

  She then hurried down the aisle and disappeared around the nearest corner, running all the way down to the double doors that would lead outside to freedom.

  But how badly did she want it?

  * * *

  Dallan slowly made his way to the nearest chair and sat down heavily, his whole body a confused mess, muscles twitching and dancing at random. He noticed how his hands were shaking and balled them into fists in a vain effort to stop them. His head felt light as sweat popped out on his brow.

  By the Saints; he didn’t know what was worse; the thing John referred to as the Call, or being in the presence of the wee lass, the Maiden.

  “Dallan?” John emerged from behind a bookshelf, his face a mask of concern as he watched Dallan fight the involuntary spasms his body put him through. “Are you all right?”

  Dallan stood, his eyes following the Maiden’s retreating path. “Aye, John,” he whispered. “Let’s be gone from this place. I dinna want to stay any longer.” He swallowed hard and continued to stare down the aisle. He could still feel her. So familiar…

  “Let’s go, then,” John replied with a comforting smile. “I’ll take you back to the apartment.” The two men walked off down the same path earlier graced by the Maiden.

  Dallan caught the faint scent of her as they made their way to the lobby of the library. “John?”

  John looked up at him as they continued to walk. “Yes?”

  Dallan stopped abruptly and looked directly into John’s eyes, grabbing them with the intensity of his own. “I must come here again tomorrow.”

  John smiled. “I thought you might.”

  “Dinna tell the heathen. I wilna do this if Kwaku is hiding in the corner watching me. I canna… I dinna see how…”

  “How you can befriend the Maiden with an audience looking on,” John finished for him.

  Dallan raised an eyebrow. “Aye. I’ll do this for ye, but I’ll do it my way, not the way everyone else thinks I should. I’m a man, John, not a whelp of a lad as some in this group seem to think. I ha’ been around a lass or two, enough to be able to tell what’s needed.”

  John stared up at Dallan, his hopes soaring once again, and nodded his agreement. “I’ll see that you have your privacy. But remember, Dallan, the Maiden is not like any other woman you have dealt with in the past. She is very different…”

  “How is she different?” Dallan demanded.

  John started at the question. He’d fallen into that one! “Kwaku will explain everything in a few days if not sooner. Right now, the thing to do is get to know her.”

  “Just why is it, John, that yer so anxious I get better acquainted with the lass?”

  John gave him a somber look. “To be better able to protect her.”

  Dallan’s eyes narrowed, searching the face of the Lord Councilor. “Protect her from what?”

  John let go a nervous sigh. “I hope we never have to find out, my friend.” He took Dallan’s elbow and began to lead him. “Let’s go find some flat cakes. I know just where to go.”

  Th at slippery Stair goes unstraight, stoops and high,

  Do like his neck turn his whole course awry.

  That trap for public place, that Jacob’s ladder…

  Enemies of Sir John Dalrymple,

  Master of Stair,

  Murderer of Glencoe

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Well, well, well. Are we getting soft, Philip? Are you actually reminiscing on your dear, departed, dead wife?”

  Philip sat down in a large black leather wing chair and stared coldly at his own reflection across the room. A reflection he simply referred to as Brennan. “I miss her at times, yes.”

  Brennan, also sitting, laughed back at him, his dark eyes narrowing. “You’re a fool, Philip, a sentimental fool. She’s gone, and will remain gone forever.” He chuckled lightly. “Unless of course you’ve found a way to bring back the dead. The closest you could come would be to go back, and you don’t have even the means for that. Pitiful.” He gave a mock pout.

  Philip stood, as did Brennan. “Stay out of it. She’s none of your concern.”

  “Oh,” Brennan began, his voice seductive, “but she is, Philip. She most definitely is. As will be the next one.”

  Philip turned away from Brennan. “She was everything to me. My life, all I ever lived for.” His voice was low with remembrance. “I loved her.” His eyes wandered to the large window of the bedroom which overlooked the expansive gardens of the estate below.

  “Then whatever possessed you to kill her?”

  Brennan’s voice cut deep into his heart, his soul. Philip spun to face him. “Because you told me to, remember?”

  Brennan smiled at him. “Of course I remember. I even helped you.” His voice still held a seductive timbre. “And I’ll help you again.”

  Philip turned away from him and walked slowly to the window. He looked down over the lighted gardens, his face expressionless. Lissa had loved the gardens at night. He had put the elaborate lighting system in just so she could walk the paths either by moonlight or simulation. She loved the beauty of the garden, taking in the colors, textures, and delicate patterns of the thousands of varieties of flowers, plants and shrubbery, enjoying the multitude of fragrant, rare, and life-giving trees he had planted. He allowed her to spend as much time there as she needed to renew her strength, to free her mind of troubles and her spirit of sorrows. Philip had created and nurtured the garden just for her. All for Lissa, his beautiful Lissa who was no more.

  “More sentiment?” Brennan began. “Really, old boy, don’t waste your time. We’ve business to discuss, remember?”

  Philip turned reluctantly from the window and looked at Brennan across the room, staring back at him. He still wore his black evening wear from the Sonderson’s party, his collar-length blonde hair looking even lighter than usual against the darkness of his tuxedo. His face was framed by a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His dark brown eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at Philip, causing several lines to appear around the lower lash area. A sure sign he was aging.

  “Like what you see, old boy? I’ll grant I’m not as fetching as I once was, but still in good form, I assure you.” Brennan lifted his face slightly and looked down his nose at him.

  Philip turned away. “I despise you.”

  Brennan began to laugh. “Despise me? Really, Philip, you’re hardly in a position to. On the contrary, I should be the person you least despise.”

  “Leave me alone. Go away.”

  Brennan’s laughter returned. “Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Not tonight. Not with such wonderful happenings going on at this very moment.” His voice lowered. “Can’t you imagine what it will be like, Philip? To have it all? The power to do whatever you want? To possess the ultimate control? To be the master again?”

  Silence. Philip could only shake his head.

  “To have the world at your feet, Philip. To possess pure, raw power. Oh, it excites me!” Brennan’s breathing picked up, and he began to pace. “And the girl, Philip. Think of the girl! Doesn’t she excite you? Does the thought of having such a woman again not set your blood on fire? To have control over such a creature, to be able to take her and…”

  “Stop it!”

  “Stop?” Brennan’s voice became incredulous. “Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, you may not care about her now, but later…” He paused to catch his breath. “It will be different. I’d wager you won’t be able to keep your filthy hands off her.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Once you have her, you know what you’ll do with her.”

  “I said stop it!” Philip’s face was red now, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I don’t want to hear anymore! Get out of here! Leave me alone!” He
shook with rage as he glared at Brennan across the room.

  Brennan began to take deep breaths. “You’re upset because of what happened to Lissa.” He gulped more air. “The same thing need not happen this time. You’ll have more power, more control. It’s all been arranged, Philip. You can’t back out now.”

  Philip breathed just as hard. “Yes, I can!”

  Brennan’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t win, Philip. I’ll lock you up again and throw away the key, just like before.” He wiped a hand across his mouth, his breathing still heavy. “And then I’ll have her all to myself. You won’t have to be involved. You won’t have to share her with me. Remember how you shared Lissa with me? Remember what I used to do to her? How she would scream, Philip?” He began whispering again. “I’ll make this one scream, too. Just like Lissa. But don’t worry; I won’t kill her right away. No, this one is much stronger. She’ll last.”

  Philip’s eyes were glassy as he stared at the thin line of saliva on his hand. “Have you no decency in you at all?”

  Brennan straightened himself. “Decency, old boy?” he chuckled. “There’s no room for decency in this. Survival of the fittest, that’s what this is about. And which of us do you think is the fittest? Hmm?”

  Philip couldn’t look at him.

  “Hmm, I thought so. We both know who holds the power here, don’t we?”

  Philip still did not look at him.

  “We both know who makes all the plans, don’t we?”

  No response.

  “And we both know who controls Julia,” Brennan’s voice dropped even lower, “don’t we, Philip?”

  Philip turned away again, back to the relative safety of the window, only to face his reflection in the glass.

  “Julia belongs to me. I gave her a new life so it is I she trusts, I she obeys, not you.” Brennan’s voice got louder. “And it is I she will have the girl submit to. Julia does whatever I ask. Do you think she would do the same for you?”

  Philip ignored him and stared intently out at the garden.

  “No, I am the one who wins, Philip. Not you. I am the one Julia wants, even though you found her, even though it was you who rescued her.” Brennan paused to let the words sink into his victim. “Even after all that, after you had her, she still wanted me more.” He stopped again, awaiting a reaction. He got none, and continued.

  “Did you honestly think she would stay with you? If you had been smart, you would never have taken her to bed in the first place. You should have turned her directly over to me. I would have taken care of everything, Philip, like I always do.” He again chuckled lightly. “Perhaps if you had given her to me in the first place, Lissa would still be alive.”

  Philip slowly turned back to face his reflection held in a mirror atop a bureau across the room, his face an expressionless mask.

  Brennan nodded, “Yes, you know it’s true. If you hadn’t had such an affair with Julia, Lissa would still be with us. You killed her, you know. Your lust killed her, Philip.”

  Philip lowered his gaze to the plush carpeting beneath his feet. He slowly raised his eyes and surveyed the room with its rich furnishings and priceless works of art adorning the walls. It was the only room in the house where he and what now mastered him conversed.

  “Regrets, Philip? Are you remembering how it was before I came into your life? Before I took Lissa away from you? She would have died anyway. But your affair with Julia is what finished her. I had nothing at all to do with her death. You killed her all on your own.”

  Philip raised his gaze back to Brennan. “What is it you want?” His voice was barely a whisper.

  Brennan was expressionless for a moment, and then smiled broadly. “That’s more like it, Philip. Ask me what I want. Ask me… who.”

  “Who?”

  “Another child, Philip. You’ll kill him for me, won’t you?”

  Philip’s eyes widened. “No!”

  “Yes, Philip. Kill him before he can stop me. She dreams of him; Julia told me. I’ve had to increase my control, had to have Julia at times keep her firmly sedated. All the signs are there. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for her.”

  “I’ll not kill for you again.”

  Brennan’s smile grew. “Yes, you will, just like you killed the others.”

  Philip pressed his lips together firmly and crossed the room to Brennan.

  He looked himself squarely in the eye as they faced each other. “You can’t make me do it.”

  Brennan received his stare for a moment, and then gave a snort of disgust. “What makes you think I can’t? You’re weak, Philip. You can’t resist me. You could never resist me, and I’ll prove it to you.” Brennan’s eyes narrowed. “Go to the bed, Philip.”

  Philip’s eyes were just as narrowed. “No.”

  Brennan laughed. “Oh, Philip. When will you learn to just obey me?

  Go to the bed, take off your jacket and get comfortable. See what I’ve brought for you? Isn’t she lovely?”

  Philip slowly turned his head in the direction of the huge four-poster bed, its canopied curtains hiding what lay upon it. He licked his now-dry lips, letting his gaze drift back to Brennan.

  “Yes, you want her, don’t you? You take her first, and then it will be my turn.” Brennan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “And then we’ll kill her together… and feed.”

  Philip closed his eyes, fighting the seductive lure of Brennan’s offer.

  “Ah, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” Brennan drawled. “Do you want something good to eat? It’s right there on the bed waiting for you. All you have to do is go over there, get undressed and take it.”

  Philip’s body began to tremble with the steady lessening of his control.

  “She’ll be good, Philip. She’s young, strong. She’ll keep you alive until you can woo and win the important one. The one that really counts.”

  “Don’t make me do this. You can’t make me…” Philip’s control escaped him. He doubled over in pain.

  “God, but you need it! You’re hungry! Aren’t you, Philip?”

  Philip gasped for air, gripped the side of a huge mahogany dresser and pulled himself to a standing position. He now faced Brennan again.

  Brennan smiled at him. “Who controls you, Philip?”

  Philip gasped again as he fought for air, the pain assailing. “You do,” he rasped.

  “And to whom will you give the girl?”

  Philip fought to stay where he was. “To you.”

  “Then go to the bed, Philip. Go feed yourself. Feed what little piece of Lissa still lives within you. While you can.”

  Philip fought the lust, the hunger, the need to inflict pain, but the lure of Brennan’s offer was too strong. He took a step toward the bed where he knew the one thing able to satisfy his raging hunger lay, bound and gagged, waiting for him.

  Pure, untouched flesh. A virgin. Food.

  “Isn’t it ironic, Philip? Lissa’s inner heart fed off beauty and pleasure. Now you feed what is left of her with unquenchable lust and sadistic pain. Enjoy your meal, Philip. It will be the last; you must fast until the feast is ready.” Brennan’s voice became an evil hiss. “Read the message again, Philip. Let the news excite you, let it ignite your bloodlust. Take what I’ve brought for you, and we’ll enjoy it together.”

  Philip’s hands shook uncontrollably as he reached for the message on the dresser. He picked it up, the paper rattling in his shaking hands. His eyes were about to read again the words he’d longed to hear, the ones that told him he would still live, when a knock sounded at the door.

  He swallowed hard and looked to Brennan whose face held the same look of panic. He straightened and turned around. “Yes, what is it?”

  The door opened a crack, then halfway as a tall butler poked his head into the bedroom. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, sir, but you did want to be informed of your travel arrangements as soon as they were made.”

  Philip stood stiffly, fighting against his hunger. “Yes? What did you f
ind out?”

  “Mr. Graves booked three seats on an evening flight.”

  “What date?” Philip’s hands shook, and he had to ball them into fists to keep his forced control.

  “I’m sorry, Lord Brennan, but the soonest Mr. Graves could book was tomorrow evening.”

  “I see. Very well then. Leave me now.”

  “Will the… lady need a car home, sir?”

  Philip glanced quickly to the curtained bed, then back to his servant. “No. I’ll take care of the lady personally. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight then, sir.” The butler left, closing the door behind him.

  Philip strode across the room and locked the door, returned to the dresser and picked up the message. He read it silently to himself before looking at his reflection in the mirror.

  “Do you still want me to read this to you?” Philip asked.

  Brennan smiled wickedly back at him. “Yes, of course I do. But first, promise me something.”

  Philip stared at him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What?”

  Brennan smiled again. “You will kill the boy, just like the others. Leave no trace, Philip, no clues, no witnesses. And do it yourself this time. I won’t let you use Julia again. You will kill him yourself. I don’t care how.”

  Philip looked to the message in his hand, then back to his reflection. A reflection which raised an impatient brow at him. “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?”

  Philip glanced at the bed. The young girl he’d drugged at the Sonderson’s party would be waking soon, if she hadn’t regained consciousness already. He took a step in the direction of his private torture chamber.

  “Read it again, Philip. Let me hear it one more time before we eat.”

  Philip stopped in mid-stride, his head half turned to the mirror. He looked at the message in his hand.

  LORD PHILIP C. BRENNAN