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

by Geralyn Beauchamp

  Brennan’s smile turned positively wicked and he let go something between a hiss and a laugh. “Experience, sir. Shall we begin?”

  Dallan let his arms fall to his sides, eyes narrowed to slits. “Aye.”

  Brennan gave a single nod to Graves who slowly backed his way down the alley, never once taking his eyes from Dallan.

  When he reached Kent, Dallan turned to Brennan. “Rules?”

  “The winner lives, the loser dies. How much more simple can it be?”

  “And if by chance ye manage to kill me, what of Shona?”

  Brennan gave a triumphant chuckle. “Ah, I was wondering when you might get around to that. To put it simply, I shall wed, join and master her as quickly as possible. With any luck, in as little as twenty-four hours. Of course I’ll have to give her heart time to figure out that you’re dead, but that shouldn’t take too long. Perhaps an hour or two, no more.”

  Dallan made the first move and stepped to one side. The two men began to circle each other. “And what makes ye think she’ll want to wed ye. She kens yer a Sassenach dog. She‘ll ha’ nothing to do wi’ ye.”

  Their eyes locked, both men’s bodies tense with anticipation.

  “Of course, I can’t force her, but I can give her something to think about. She’d be more than willing to do as I ask should, say, her mother’s life be put in danger. Or perhaps her little friend Kitty. There’s another fine piece. Too bad I don’t have the time to enjoy her as well. The Maiden, however, will be enough to keep me satisfied for a very long time.”

  Dallan went into a slight crouch, as did Brennan, the air now tight with the two men’s mounting tension. “She’ll no ha’ ye. And I guarantee ye, sir, I’ll no be the one left here tonight.”

  Brennan stood straight and smiled. “We shall see, boy, we shall see.” He suddenly lunged at Dallan, caught him around the middle and crashed them both into the nearest wall, Dallan’s back taking the brunt of the impact.

  Never had Dallan been hit so fast and so hard. Brennan was like an avalanche of solid rock forcing him back against the wall. The air knocked from his lungs, he fought to right himself while Brennan moved several feet away, a sadistic grin on his face, waiting.

  Dallan pushed away from the wall and stood to his full height. He knew his back was bruised and wondered if the resounding crack he heard upon hitting the wall had been his bones or Brennan’s. He took a cautious step forward and a sharp pain lanced through his ribs. Definitely his.

  “Very clumsy of you, Boyeee.”

  Both Dallan’s and Brennan’s heads abruptly turned to the sound of Kwaku’s voice. He stood not twenty feet away, casually leaning against the opposite wall, Graves and Kent nowhere to be seen.

  “Why, Kawahnee, how good of you to join us! Come to tend the body when I’m through with him?” Brennan asked, clearly amused.

  Kwaku shrugged and looked about. “Why should I do dat? I see a fine place to put him, right over dere.” He pointed to the metal trash bin. “Why do you not use it?”

  Brennan smiled. “An idea already thought of. But really, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

  Dallan, fully recovered, sneered at Kwaku and began to circle Brennan. The same dance started again.

  Kwaku smiled. “I came to see if de Boyeee would use any ding I taught him.”

  “You mean anything I’ve taught you,” Brennan offered.

  “No, Brennan. I did not teach him to use any of your moves. De Boyeee has a style all his own.”

  Brennan kept his eyes on Dallan, circling casually as he waited for an opening. “Yes. Pity I won’t have the chance to see any of them. I’m still quite fast.”

  As if to prove it, he lunged again, but this time Dallan was ready. The Weapons Master’s fist exploded into Brennan’s gut, doubling him over just as his other fist caught Brennan on the jaw. Brennan jerked away and resumed his previous position.

  Kwaku snorted in disgust. “Dat’s de best you can do? What were you dinking, Boyeee? You can do better dan dat!”

  Dallan wanted to sneer again at Kwaku but didn’t dare take his eyes off Brennan. “Why d’ye no go bother someone else, ye good-for-nothing heathen?”

  Kwaku shrugged as he watched the two men circle again. “I do not know where anyone else is.”

  “Och! Ye found me well enough! Go find Shona! This cur has her, ye ken.”

  “I know.”

  “What!”

  Brennan laughed and charged again, taking advantage of Dallan’s sudden anger with Kwaku. But again the Weapons Master was ready and leapt out of the way as one foot caught Brennan in the head and hurled him into the wall.

  The result was not what Dallan expected. Brennan merely caught himself with his hands to cushion the impact and spun to face him. “Surely you’ve taught him better than this, Kawahnee. He’s clumsy as an ox.”

  Dallan narrowed his gaze at Brennan noting the man still seemed relatively well intact. Fist to the gut, fist to the jaw, kick to the head… by all the Saints, what was going on? The only person who could withstand such powerful blows was Kwaku. He stepped right up to Brennan and balled his hand into a tight fist. “Excuse me, sir. If ye would be so kind as to indulge me a brief moment.”

  Brennan looked at him, then his fist with a bemused expression. “Be my guest.”

  Dallan nodded once and promptly punched Brennan right in the jaw. Brennan’s head snapped around from the impact. He calmly looked back to Dallan and shrugged, unfazed.

  Dallan’s eyes widened slightly and he looked to his hand. “Saints.”

  “Indeed.” Brennan commented and dealt Dallan a similar blow, knocking him across the alley and into the opposite wall.

  Kwaku continued to lean against the same wall, his face a mask of disgust. “Boyeee, you embarrass me! Get up and show him what you can do!”

  Ignoring Kwaku, Dallan shook his head a few times, rubbed his jaw and stood. “Yer no a normal man, are you?”

  Brennan gave him a wide smile. “Of course not. Do you think me fool enough to challenge you if I was?”

  Dallan, knowing he had sufficient distance between himself and Brennan, threw his warrior’s glare at Kwaku. “Ye bloody heathen, ye kent all along, didn’t you? By all the Saints! What are ye about? He’s got Shona!”

  “I know he has de Maiden, Boyeee. But she is fine. Merely asleep. He cannot harm her. If he did he would be killed instantly. It is de law.”

  “Law? What’s all this bloody talk of law?”

  Kwaku sighed as if impatient. “Zara, her heart is bonded to de Maiden for a protection and would seek out anyone who did de Maiden any true harm. It is how Muirarans protect de Royal houses.”

  Dallan let go a snort. “Och! A fine time to tell me!”

  Kwaku solemnly shrugged, offering no further comments.

  “There’s no need for that little bit of information. Don’t worry, boy. I’ll dispatch you in short order then take care of your Azurti friend here.” Brennan drawled, obviously pleased Dallan now knew he was outmatched.

  Dallan stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “Ye dinna ken how tempting it is to let ye kill me just so the heathen could get his. But, as I said before, I’ve other matters to attend to this evening.”

  The two men began to circle each other again. “And as I’ve already informed you,” Brennan began, “you won’t get the chance.”

  Dallan let go a chuckle, charged, dropped to his knees at the last second and delivered a horrific blow to Brennan’s groin.

  Brennan was not amused by the sudden turnabout, but was in no shape to comment.

  “AHA! Dat is what I am looking for! Magnificent, Boyeee! Truly magnificent!” Kwaku pushed himself away from the wall and moved to where Brennan stood, doubled over in pain, his face stricken with disbelief, bulging eyes full of promised revenge. “See, I told you de Boyeee has a style all his own!” He promptly slapped Brennan on the back. Hard.

  Brennan went sprawling onto the pavement face first. Kwaku happily placed
a huge foot in the center of his back. “We go fetch de Maiden now, yes?”

  Dallan was on his feet and stood watching Brennan. “In a minute.” He shoved Kwaku’s foot off his enemy’s back and pulled his face from the ground by his hair. “Saints, Kwaku. Ye knocked the bloody Sassenach out! How’d ye do that?”

  “I dink perhaps your magnificent move caused him to pass out. Den perhaps mine.” He smiled at Dallan. “You are strong, Boyeee, even stronger now from de bonding. But, my wife is Muiraran. Very strong woman. When you join, you become strong like Muiraran man. Brennan, he was once married to Muiraran. Dat is why he is so strong, much stronger dan you. He would have killed you sure.”

  Dallan’s eyes widened. “But ye were here. You yerself could ha’ stepped in anytime and laid the bloody man out.”

  Kwaku shook his head.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I made Brennan a promise I would not interfere. I did not. Now de promise is fulfilled. Let us get de Maiden. You still have a long night ahead of you, Boyeee.”

  Dallan stood painfully. “Aye.” He looked back to Brennan. “And what of him?”

  Kwaku glanced to the metal trash bin in the middle of the alley. He looked back to Dallan, a huge grin on his face.

  “Ye want him to live?” Dallan asked, shocked.

  “It is not fitting to kill him now. There would be no honor in it, Boyeee. You would have no satisfaction.”

  Dallan also glanced to the bin. “For once, we agree.”

  Kwaku began to chuckle. “Yes, Boyeee, yes.” He happily bent to the unconscious Brennan and picked him up one-handed.

  * * *

  John, as usual, paced. “I don’t like this. He’s been in there too long. Lany, anything?”

  Lany sat on a set of concrete steps gracing the alley where he, John and Angus waited for Dallan and Kwaku. “I still can’t feel the Maiden, at least not like before. It’s as if she were asleep.”

  John stopped his pacing and stared curiously at him. “If I didn’t know any better, sometimes I’d swear you were Muiraran.”

  “That’s not funny, Eaton.”

  John shook his head and resumed his pacing.

  “Lord John...”

  John turned to a waiting Angus at the alley’s entrance. Kwaku and Dallan had finally arrived.

  The Time Master strutted up to the men like a proud peacock. “You should have been dere, Lord Councilor! It was beee-yoootiful!”

  Dallan, rather than strut, limped his way to the rest of the company. He took one look at Kwaku’s preening expression and groaned.

  John took in the Weapons Master’s bruised face and the protective way one arm seemed to be holding his ribs together. “What happened?”

  “He laid de fiend out!” Kwaku chortled happily.

  John looked from one face to the other. “How?”

  Kwaku burst into full Azurti guffaws.

  “Eaton,” Lany began as he left his perch on the steps. “I don’t think we want to know.” He scanned the area. “The Maiden, where is she?”

  Kwaku continued to grin. “She is fine for now and can be retrieved easily.”

  “Is Brennan still alive?” John asked Dallan, who now limped to Lany’s previous seat.

  Dallan sat gingerly, not wanting to do further damage to his already injured ribs. “Aye, John. Though I wanted to kill him, ‘twas not the time. Shona is more important. We ha’ to get her. Now.”

  Lany began to examine the Weapons Master. “This hurt?” He poked here and there at Dallan’s ribcage.

  Dallan shook his head. “I want to get her and leave this place. I dinna like it.”

  “How about here?” Lany asked, moving to his other side.

  Dallan shook his head again. “Brennan won’t be out for long. And I dinna like the thought of Shona with Julia.”

  “Here?” Lany gave one last guess as to the problem area.

  “Ahhhh! Och, Master Lany, dinna press so hard.”

  “Sorry,” Lany looked over his shoulder. “Cracked ribs, Eaton. One, possibly two.”

  Angus approached Dallan to examine him more closely, and snorted at the bruises on his face. “Got ye a few, did he? I hope he looks worse.”

  “I’m afraid my appearance is a might sadder than Brennan’s.” His smile broadened. “But rest assured, Angus, he got the worst o’ it. The man will no be up and around too soon.”

  All three men looked at him with curiosity while Kwaku again exploded into laughter.

  Dallan gave a sly smile. “He’ll no be with a woman anytime soon either.”

  John stood tight-lipped, his face looking as if it couldn’t decide on amusement or empathetic pain. Lany’s face chose the pain first, then the amusement. Angus’s went straight to amusement, joining Kwaku in complete hysterics.

  “As entertaining as it ‘tis, lads,” Dallan interrupted, “I’d like to get out o’ here and fetch my bride. I may need more than one night to get the job done. The sooner we get started, the better.” He spoke and winced at the same time, sobering the rest of the company.

  Lany sighed and shook his head. “Kwaku?” He turned to the Time Master who still chuckled. “We need Zara.”

  “I know, Mos-go-fi -an. She waits for us at de shop. De Boyeee can make it.” He joined them at Dallan’s side, his face suddenly serious. “But I must warn you, after my wife mends him, she will not be strong enough to take us home. It will be up to de Boyeee and his Maiden.”

  John and Lany exchanged a quick look, then John took in Kwaku’s grave face and Dallan’s bruised one. “So be it. If she doesn’t heal him now, he’ll never be able to save the Maiden anyway. She has to join tonight. The final Call, I assume she sang it?”

  Kwaku smiled proudly and nodded.

  John turned to Dallan, relieved. “Good. We’ll go back to the shop, let Zara tend you then get the Maiden. If all goes well, we leave in the morning.” He sighed again. “Dallan?”

  Dallan looked into his eyes and smiled. “Save yer thanks for later, John. ‘Tis not over. I’ve no managed to save anyone yet.”

  “By answering the Call instead of Brennan, you’ve saved more than you could imagine.”

  “True.” Lany added quietly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  With Lany’s help, Dallan left his seat and stood with the rest. Remembering the earlier confrontation with Brennan and something he’d missed, he turned an amused face to Kwaku. “What did ye do with Brennan’s trained dogs anyway? I forgot to ask ye earlier.”

  Kwaku grinned. “Dey decided to take a ride in one of dose wonderful yellow and black checkered cars. I gave de driver five green paper currency and told him to take dem as far as de money would go in a straight line.”

  Angus snorted and laughed. “And how many zeros were on the green money, Kwaku?”

  Kwaku gave a sadistic sneer. “I believe de amount on each was one, zero, zero.”

  Lany chuckled. “You knocked them out, dumped them into a cab and gave the driver five hundred dollars.”

  Kwaku shrugged. “Well it was Brennan’s currency.” He dangled what appeared to be a very expensive wallet from two huge fingers.

  Angus had to ask. “What direction did they head for?”

  Kwaku snorted. “Nord, across de big river.”

  Angus laughed again. “They’ll no be back anytime soon. That’ll land them somewhere at the northern end of the next state!”

  Dallan glanced at John who stood with a simple smile and nodded to himself. “Sometimes I ha’ to admit, he does right now and then. Even if he is just a heathen.”

  John continued to smile. Home was but a morning away.

  * * *

  Shona tried to lift her head, the action excruciatingly slow. Perhaps she hadn’t been able to lift it at all. Maybe she’d imagined the movement. To test the truth, she tried again.

  Nothing.

  Her mind seemed to work but not her body. She tried her arm this time. Odd. A strange tugging resulted which confused her
further.

  She tried again, with the same result. But nothing tugged at her, she was tugging against something. After several more attempts she realized she was tugging against her other arm. Oh no. Oh no, not that.

  She tried once more and moaned, the sound cut off at the mouth.

  Shona had been bound and gagged.

  Panic began to course through her, her eyes now wide open with the sudden realization. She struggled against the bonds and wondered what on earth they had used to tie her with. It was smooth, thick and hard, certainly not rope. It also hurt.

  Her ankles fared no better, trussed just as tightly, she fought what held her, realizing that someone had removed the silk stockings she’d worn that evening. Whoever tied her up knew what they were doing.

  Bound, gagged and helpless she thought. Lovely. And where was she?

  It was fairly dark, that was certain. She was lying on her side, her back against something. She looked around more closely, her vision clearing as the drug wore off.

  She was in the back seat of Julia’s car, and from the looks of it, the car was parked in Julia’s garage. A dim light from some unseen source was shining in from the front windshield and she was able to see shelves along one side of the garage’s wall. Julia had different paintings stacked there among other art related paraphernalia. She remembered seeing it all before when she had been to Julia’s house on occasion.

  Shona struggled to raise her head enough to look at her feet.

  Ouch. No wonder her wrists and ankles hurt so much. Someone had tied her up with electrical extension cord. She let her head flop back to the seat and waited for a small bout of dizziness to pass. The drug was not through with her yet.

  A sound came from out of nowhere. Wearily she realized it had come from her. A weak, strangled whimper of hopelessness.

  Dallan. Where was he? What had Philip done with him? She struggled again with her bonds, as an unfamiliar anger began to rise. If Philip had harmed Dallan, she swore to herself she would kill him.

  Dallan! Dallan, where are you? Nothing. Her panic rose anew. Please answer me! Where are you?

  She struggled further, the panic turning and twisting within her, and she let out a muffled cry of frustration.