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

by Geralyn Beauchamp

  “And what is that suppose to mean?”

  “It means, my dear fellow, that my ancestor, Sir John Dalrymple, initiated a mass murder. The Elders were right: one cannot escape one’s destiny. I’d wager you were to die during the massacre and Kawahnee botched destiny up.”

  Dallan staggered to keep his balance. “What are ye saying?”

  Brennan laughed heartily. “I’m saying that my great-great-so-on-and so-forth grandfather killed your grandfather. And the beautiful thing is that now I’m going to kill you!”

  Dallan fell to his knees as the thing he’d wondered about for years burned its way into his mind and heart. He now knew who was responsible for the murder of his family and fellow clansmen, and, like that fateful day of so long ago, was helpless to do anything to save the ones he loved.

  Shona…

  * * *

  Julia rested briefly at the stoplight, her pain great. She had crawled from the fencing room to the hall and out to Maggie’s car in the alley. After battling with the keys, she’d finally managed to get the door open and climb inside. She had left the alley as fast as she could, the car racing through the streets to the only ones able to help at this point.

  She’d never gone to an enemy before, nor had she ever fully betrayed an ally. But Philip was no longer an ally. Now he was the enemy. Now, she thought, he deserved to die.

  She began the climb into the west hills of the city, her breathing difficult. Philip must have damaged her windpipe, “I’ll get you for this,” she rasped in an unrecognizable voice. She downshifted and continued on.

  They would be at the Whittards. Philip planned Evan’s murder as a distraction to keep them busy while he played with his new toys. But what if it hadn’t worked? What if they had already left the house to search for Philip? What would they do when they saw her? Perhaps she wouldn’t get the chance to plead her case. She might be dead as soon as the big black man spotted her. He was obviously the leader, whoever he was. One thing was for sure, Philip hated him, wanted him to suffer as much as possible. But why?

  Julia slowly brought the car alongside the curb near the house. Her battered car was the only one in the driveway, and at the moment all appeared quiet. She knew it wouldn’t be for long.

  She got out and slowly made her way to the front door. Her breathing labored, she reached for the doorknob, fingers already curled in pain.

  “Don’t move. Don’t even breathe,” a voice whispered into her ear as a hand locked itself onto one arm.

  Julia flinched in pain at the man’s tight grasp and slowly turned to face him. “It’s not what you think,” she painfully pushed out.

  Lany took in the sight of her bruised throat and the sound of her damaged voice, but kept his grip and ushered her through the door. “Eaton!”

  John ran out from the master bedroom to the hall, his face falling into shock. “By the Creator…”

  “Please,” Julia began. “Let me explain why I’ve come. He tried to kill me. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He means to kill your friend anytime now.”

  Lany, never loosening his grip, pulled her into the living room and down onto the sofa. “Do you know where they are?”

  She looked from one man to the other. “Yes.” Her voice was nearly gone now.

  John went down on one knee. “Are you here to help us?”

  She closed her eyes and nodded.

  Lany released his grip and his breath then joined his superior. “Then tell us where Brennan has taken them. He’s betrayed you too, hasn’t he?”

  Her eyes filled with tears and again she nodded.

  “Tell us, Julia. I’ll see to it you are compensated for your help.” John’s voice, though compassionate, was still deadly serious.

  She shook her head. “He will kill me. I’ve no one, nowhere to go.”

  “Who will kill you?” Lany asked.

  Julia swallowed and searched the room. “The big black man. He’s a Time Master. He has that power. Philip explained a little of it to me.”

  “Kwaku is with us. He’ll see that your sentence is not as severe in lieu of your help.” John explained as he took one of her hands in his own. “Please, where are they?”

  Her head lolled to one side and she moaned in pain just as Maggie came into the room. “You!”

  Lany jumped up and grabbed Maggie as she launched herself at Julia. “No! She’s here to help. She knows where Dallan and Shona are!”

  Maggie’s face was red with rage, her own exhaustion forcing her to the floor. Lany supported and braced her as she landed in a heap. “He almost died, Julia. You did nothing. Nothing! All these years you worked with us. We treated you like family! And what about Shona? Do you even care for her?”

  Julia closed her eyes a moment. “I care for what she is.”

  Maggie’s eyes softened. “Where is she?”

  “If I tell you, do you promise to let me live?”

  Maggie’s lip twitched with anxiety and indecision. “Yes.”

  “He took them to a little antique weapons shop downtown. He wants to kill the Scot there and claim Shona as well.”

  John sat on the floor. “By the Creator. Right under our noses.”

  “He planned it that way.” Julia hoarsely commented, then leaned back into the cushions, too weary to care anymore about being on her guard.

  “Julia, were Dallan and Shona both drugged?” Lany asked as he helped Maggie to her feet.

  “Yes. But both should be awake by now. The Scotsman, he’s been awake for a while, but Philip has been fighting with him. He’s badly wounded. Philip wanted to bleed him to death and make him watch Shona submit and… join.”

  Lany groaned and closed his eyes in concentration. All watched as his face twisted with unexplainable silent agony for a moment.

  His eyes suddenly widened in confirmation, and he spun to John. “Eaton, I can feel him! I can! Wow, it’s like… he’s… stars, I can’t explain what’s happening, but something is. Dallan is doing something. Something very… Muiraran.”

  John stood as well. “He must be using his new heart and instinct. I hope Brennan hasn’t figured it out yet.” He looked to Maggie. “Do you have any sort of weapons in the house?”

  “Only Shona’s fencing sabers, but I’m not even sure where they are.”

  “No firearms of any kind?” Lany asked.

  “None. Evan doesn’t like guns.”

  John and Lany both turned toward the bedroom and glanced compassionately back to Maggie, John listening intently. Kwaku and Zara still sang softly, voices locked together as they repaired the damage done to Evan. Their joined heart was acting on its own, healing him.

  John turned back to Lany. “You and me. That’s all there is. You have your laser?”

  Lany nodded and pulled out his communicator.

  “What range do you have programmed into it?”

  Lany sighed. “Very short, I’m afraid. Cari caught Vyn playing with it one day and, well…” he shrugged.

  “We’ll have to get fairly close to get a clear shot at him. If Dallan’s new instinct finds us, he can help in some way. That is, if he’s in any shape to. What did you sense from him?”

  Lany’s face became expressionless. “Eaton, I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Such pure power is just sitting there but… it’s like it’s got no place to go. He did seem to be trying to channel it somewhere.”

  John smiled. “To heal himself, I hope. If his instinct is guiding him completely, and he doesn’t fight it, he may yet win this for us.”

  “Let’s not bet on anything. Let’s go and get this over with.”

  John nodded and left the room briefly. When he returned, Angus shuffled along behind him. “Maggie, you stay here with your husband. He’s going to be fine. You know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Lany, Angus and I will go to the shop and take care of Brennan. We’ll come back as soon as we can. Tomy will have to take us. We’ll leave Angus’s mother with you.”


  At his last words, a recently arrived sweaty and tired Tomy pushed Mother MacNab into the room.

  “What about her?” Maggie asked as she pointed to Julia.

  John pondered a moment, then smiled, took the wheelchair from Tomy and pushed Mother MacNab over to Julia who began to sit up, wary at his approach. “Mother,” he yelled. “This is an English prisoner. Guard her for us!”

  Mother’s eyes grew wide as she peered over her glasses at Julia who sat with a vague expression on her face. Mother raised her cane, swung it about a few times and screeched a string of Gaelic.

  Angus stood by and cringed at the words. “Let’s go. The she-de’il is no going anywhere.”

  Lany motioned to Tomy. “We'll use Evan's car. All you have to do is take us there then get yourself back here. How fast can you drive?”

  “I don’t understand any of this, except that I can have you there in less than ten minutes and you folks best not keep standing around here talkin’ about it!”

  “We still have time,” John began. “My guess is Shona’s not fully awake yet. Brennan won’t make a move until she’s coherent enough to respond to him.”

  Lany turned to John, eyes still wide, and swallowed hard. “Eaton, we have to go now. She’s awake and I can feel her searching for Dallan. But he doesn’t answer. I don’t understand what he’s doing.”

  “And I don’t understand how you’re able to do what you do, Lany. I’m just glad you can. Let’s go.”

  Lany stood a brief moment in silence, his own heart torn with two horrible emotional pangs. One of them was that he didn’t understand how he was able to do it either. The other was a powerful sense of separation. Dallan and the Maiden needed to feed each other and soon.

  And there was something else, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on and wasn’t sure how to in the first place. All he did know was that they had come too far for it to end like this. No matter what, they had to save the young couple. If not, they may well all be doomed to die.

  The three men left the house in silence, the fate of the Known Lands now on their shoulders alone.

  Th e wind blew as ‘twad blawn its last;

  The rattling showers rose on the blast;

  The speedy gleams the darkness swallow’d;

  That night, a child might understand,

  The De’il had business on his hand.

  Robert Burns

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Shona fought her eyes one last time, her refusal to let them close again finally winning. She glanced about as best she could in her awkward position, on her stomach with her head turned to the side. Looking at the closed door leading to the hall, she could feel the presence of others. But who?

  Dallan? Dallan, where are you?

  Nothing.

  She swallowed to wet her dry throat and bit into the gag someone had placed on her.

  Ceannsaich?

  She strained toward the door as the Gaelic soared from her heart to search for his. There was something there, she couldn’t pinpoint it, but it had to be Dallan. But what was he doing? It was almost as if he’d drawn deep within himself, his heart nearly unattainable.

  Her heart’s call unanswered, Shona twisted on the cot with frustration as an odd sense of power began to build inside her, adding to her confusion. She didn’t know where it came from or what it was doing. It seemed different from anything she’d felt before.

  It was not her heart. No, it was the one she and Dallan shared. And he was doing something with it.

  She rolled herself off the cot onto the floor with a thud, struggled to a sitting position and again strained toward the door.

  Dallan was on the other side. He had to be.

  The odd power she’d felt building earlier surged. Shona groaned into the gag and fought the strange manacles holding her, nostrils flared, eyes wild.

  She suddenly stopped to listen intently. Footsteps! She quickly scanned the room. Nothing to use to free herself, nothing that could help. All she could do was wait. Her eyes flew to the door.

  The knob turned slowly, the click of the handle clear. She scooted herself against the cot, her feet pointed at the door. Even though shackled, they were still her only weapon.

  The door opened. “Ah, awake I see. Splendid.” Philip entered, assessed her position and alertness then stepped to the side of the room, well out of striking distance. The man was no fool.

  Shona glared at him as he dug through a bag by the wall, his back to her, acting as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Could she be mistaken, or was he actually humming? Her eyes narrowed then suddenly widened.

  Blood? Shona fought against a wave of dizziness and refocused. Yes, blood. And it was everywhere. Philip’s clothes were splattered with it. And if his were this bad… Dallan, please answer! What has he done to you? Are you all right? Toilich, M’Ceannsaich. Please, my master… Again her husband’s language burned a path from her heart to somewhere beyond the room.

  Philip spun, eyes narrowed to slits of warning. “Stop whatever you’re doing or he dies.”

  Shona froze, eyes locked with Philip’s.

  He smiled in satisfaction. “That’s better. I know you wouldn’t want me to get nasty, but rest assured I will if need be.” He returned to the bag. “I have a little surprise for you. I know you’ll like it.” He stood, gun in hand, and exited the room, leaving the door ajar.

  Shona was able to hear the struggles of someone out in the hall. She shook her head in helplessness. Kitty…

  The sound of a hard slap followed by a muffled cry caused Shona to lunge at the door. She pushed herself along the floor with her feet, inching toward the sounds, as her heart and the powerful sensation she felt earlier nearly ripped its way from her chest. But she had no control over it. The power reached a barrier within herself, stopped and died.

  She lowered her head to the floor. Dallan, Dallan please…

  A hand suddenly gripped her arm and cruelly pulled her to her feet. She teetered precariously due to her fastened ankles as Philip held and studied her with eyes full of lust and an evil she’d never known. Blood stained his open shirt, matted the hair on his chest. But where were his wounds? His sleeves had been slashed, blood clung to the fabric, but she saw no lacerations in his arms, not even a scratch. She briefly looked at his legs and found the same. Fear laid a cold hand on her with the realization that Philip was not entirely human, or at least not normal.

  He pulled her closer and licked at her face. Shona thought she might throw up and tried to pull away, but was unable to. DALLAN!

  “That’s it, call to him. Try to make him come to you,” Philip whispered into her ear. “Would you like to see him? I have him ready and waiting for you. Do as I say and he will be set free.”

  Shona struggled against him before realizing how futile it was. She stopped as he drew away from her and his eyes locked onto her own. What she saw made her want to die. Sadistic pride, evil intent, victory—his eyes told her he had everything now, including her. He smiled again before he threw her over a shoulder and carried her from the room.

  DALLAN! Please, can you not hear me? Why do you not answer me? What has he done to you? The strange power within her sprang to life again, pushed its way to the invisible door holding it back and beat against it. She screamed into the gag and began to kick in frustration at Philip.

  “Stop it! Do you want me to have to hurt you? I will, you know! Don’t try my patience!” He carried her to the center of the fencing room and set her on her feet, then let her fall to the hard floor. “If you want to see him alive, I strongly suggest you behave yourself!”

  Shona glared as she fought to a sitting position. He surprised her by grabbing her ankles and unlocked the manacles keeping her prisoner, then removed the gag. She choked as the air in the room entered her mouth.

  Philip patted her back. “I’m sure you’ll feel better in no time. Would you like some water?”

  The sudden silky smoothness of his voice unsettled her. She w
inced at the sound and stared blankly at him, her throat still too dry for speech.

  “Smart girl. Don’t talk until I tell you to.” He turned, went behind the nearby weapons rack and then re-emerged dragging a bound, gagged and wildly struggling Kitty.

  Shona drew in a sharp breath and nearly fell over again. “Kitty!”

  Philip pulled Kitty along by one arm then dropped her to the floor about twenty feet from Shona. “Don’t move, my dear.” Philip snarled as he caught her eye. “Don’t even think of approaching your little friend.”

  “What have you done to her?” Shona demanded, her voice cracking.

  Philip glanced to Kitty. “Not half of what I’m going to do to you. Now quiet. I want to begin my little party. But I’ve one more guest to fetch.”

  He turned, gun in hand and strode to a loosely bunched-up dust tarp lying several yards away, the same tarp he had used to hide both girls in Maggie’s car. Philip merely stood and eyed the tarp with a smile then returned to Kitty, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her knees. “Now,” he purred, turning to Shona. “I’ve a little proposition for you, my dear.”

  Shona struggled to stand, her eyes never leaving the sight of Kitty with Philip’s gun to her temple. “What do you want?”

  He smiled wickedly. “You, of course.”

  She shook her head. “I do not know what you mean. You cannot have me. Dallan does. What have you done with him?”

  “He’s nearby. In fact, much closer than you think.” Philip gripped Kitty’s hair tighter, causing her to whimper in pain. “Now back to the business at hand. I want you, but the problem is you have to give yourself to me willingly. As I see it you have two choices: submit yourself to me of your own free will, or…” He pulled Kitty’s head back and pressed the gun into one cheek. “… I kill your friend.”

  Shona’s eyes widened and she nearly fell to her knees at the terrified look in Kitty’s eyes. “You are hurting her. Stop it!”