Bound by Dreams (Cauld Ane Series)
Page 5
“Bloody hell, woman, get back here.”
She faced him and crossed her arms. “Tell me what the devil happened with your brother.”
He waved toward the sofa and she gave him a triumphant smile as she took her seat.
“Manipulation and guilt trips are new for you.”
“Are they?” she asked. “Hmmm, well, perhaps I need to use them more, since they seem to be quite effective. Now, best friend in all the world, tell me what’s going on with Max.”
Niall sat in one of the chairs facing her and sighed. “He lied.”
“Does this have anything to do with Abbot Martin?”
“What?” Niall bellowed as he stood. “Is secret keeping a new one for you as well?”
“Nye,” Payton crooned as she raised her hands and shook her head.
“No, Payton! Did you know about this too?”
“No, I don’t think so. Wait, Nye. Sit down, love. Brodie told me that Abbot was with everyone the night Moira was killed and that Max and Connall had a conversation a while back. That’s all Brodie knows.”
Niall swore again as he lowered himself back onto the chair.
Payton leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Niall squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Abbot confessed to Max.”
“He confessed what?”
“That he did it,” Niall said.
Payton groaned in frustration. “Did what? Killed Moira?”
“Aye,” Niall said, and scowled. “He had her ear.”
“What do you mean?” She waved her hand. “I need more information, Nye.”
He stared at her for several tense seconds, unsure how much he should tell her. “The killer cut off her ear, but we never found it. We know why now. Abbot cut off her ear and kept it.”
Payton gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh, Nye. I’m so sorry.”
Payton was one of the few Niall had confided in about the death of his sister, but he had never given her particulars about the gruesome scene.
“No, lass, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you,” he said when he saw her face pale. “Are you going to be sick?”
She shook her head, but kept her fingers over her lips. “Brodie’s helping.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Abbot?” Niall asked when she looked a bit better.
“Nye! If I’d known you didn’t have that part of the puzzle, I would have,” Payton said. “I was certain you knew. I would have never knowingly kept something like that from you. You do know that, right?”
“Aye, lass, I do,” he admitted, and grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
The slamming of the front door sounded, followed by the deep bellow of Brodie. “Payton Gunnach!”
“In here, love,” she called sweetly.
Niall shook his head. “I need a better security system, apparently.”
Brodie strode furiously into the room. “Don’t ever do that again, Payton. I’ve been worried sick! You left the office without telling anyone where you were going or what you were up to.”
“I told Karl where I was going, and you and I have been “speaking” all day.”
“I should fire him.”
“No,” she argued. “You bloody well should not. I told him after I was already here.”
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Like hell I am,” she countered. “Gillian said I was past the iffy point.”
“I want you to rest.” Brodie sat down beside her and laid his hand on her belly. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, love,” she assured him. “I can’t stop living my life, Brodie, just because I’m pregnant.”
Brodie sighed. “You’re sure you feel well?”
“Aye.”
“The nausea?”
“Is gone.” She stroked his cheek. “Now, stop trying to distract me. I’m not finished grilling our friend.”
Brodie raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Sorry, Nye. I tried to divert the conversation.”
Niall nodded. Once Payton sunk her jaws into something…or someone, it was virtually impossible to pry her loose.
Are you being bitten?
Close, he replied.
“Nye?” Payton said.
“Hmm?” Niall focused back on his best friend. “Sorry.”
“Are you…?”
Niall nodded.
“You’re talking to her right now?” Payton pressed.
He put a finger to his lips. “Yes, shush.”
Payton shifted in her seat. “Who is it?”
“No idea. All I know is she’s American.”
Are you talking about me?
Aye, lass, I am.
Are those your friends? They’re extremely good looking.
Niall chuckled. The big one’s a bit oafy, don’t you think?
What I think is that I’m going crazy.
No, love, you’re not.
“Nye? Are you all right?” Payton asked.
Niall nodded, frustrated that the connection was broken again. “I’m fine.”
“Let’s leave him alone, eh?” Brodie said. “You mentioned something about month-end numbers that you were going to finish at home.”
“They can keep.” Payton frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right, Nye? What are you doing about dinner? I can stay and cook if you like.”
Niall laughed. “Why is it you’re always trying to feed me, lass?”
“Probably because you’ve lost a stone in the last month.”
“I have no’,” he argued, tempering his irritation with a smile. “I’m fine. I promise I will call you if I need anything.”
Payton sighed. “Fine. I do have those figures to finish for Kade.” She pushed herself from the sofa, leaning against Brodie, who stood beside her. “I’ll tell Kenna to order you a new phone.”
Kenna McFadden was Fallen Crown’s tour manager and head of administrative services. She was also Payton’s sister, and the two talked daily.
Niall grinned. “I can do that, since she’s supposed to be on a bit of a holiday.”
“I know, but she’s coming over for dinner, so I might as well take care of that for you.” Payton smiled. “At the very least, she can delegate.”
“Thank you. That would be helpful.”
Niall walked the couple to the door, nodding to Karl, who stood by the black Mercedes. Payton’s car was gone from the driveway, so Brodie must have had one of his security team drive it home, in order to ensure Payton ride with him.
After hugging Payton good-bye, Niall closed the door, locking it securely, and then went about trying to contact his mate again.
* * *
Charlotte came awake with a start. She rubbed her tired eyes and groaned. Now she was dreaming about Niall MacMillan? And he was talking about someone named Abbott who had an ear? Lord, she must be tired…and morbid, apparently. Obviously too many episodes of Criminal Minds. The new dream fed into the one she’d been having since she was a little girl. She often wondered what was wrong with her. Her mind took her to places that just weren’t normal. She left her bed, padding to the bathroom and getting a glass of water.
Maybe she should contact a psychiatrist. She was obviously going insane. Certifiably insane. Projecting the voice she’d been hearing onto the drummer of Fallen Crown? Crazy.
She should be dreaming about Alec. Their dinner on Saturday night had been a blast, and he promised he’d call her in a couple of days to set up another date, which Charlotte was looking forward to.
With a sigh, she ran a brush through her hair, securing it with a scrunchy, and then splashed cold water on her face.
Maybe she should just drug herself into a stupor and get on a plane. She could meet the object of her fantasies, discover he’s an ass, and be done with all this idiocy.
But even if she gathered enough courage to get on a plane, or at the very least, managed to get enough drugs in her system so she wouldn’t care that she was in a large metal tube
destined to crash, what would she say when she met him? She’d probably start talking nonstop, name every album the man had performed on, whether it be drums, guitar, or backing vocals, and then pass out just to be in his presence. Sleep. She needed sleep.
After drying her face, Charlotte slid back into bed and closed her eyes, praying sleep would come both quickly and dreamless.
CHAPTER FIVE
OVER THE NEXT two hours, Niall tried to “speak” to his mate multiple times again and failed, so he finished off almost an entire bottle of whisky and dragged himself to his room, collapsing on the bed. The desired effect hadn’t quite been achieved, his Cauld Ane body able to counteract quite a bit of the alcohol, but he was too tired to be disappointed. He’d almost fallen asleep when her voice broke through his alcohol-induced haze.
Who’s Abbot and whose ear did he have?
Niall sat up, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. No one, love. I’m sorry you heard that.
You looked upset. She sighed. I wish I could’ve heard what the pretty woman was saying.
You couldn’t hear her?
No. I’m not very good at dreaming, am I? I could only hear you. But dreams are weird anyway, right?
Aye. They are. He closed his eyes. What’s your name, lass?
Charlotte.
Charlotte what?
Whitmore.
Niall’s heart raced.
What’s wrong?
Are you Grace’s friend?
You mean, am I still her friend despite the fact she got married without me and then left me all by myself to move away to an exotic country where I will never have the nerve to visit? Then, yes, I suppose I’m her friend.
Niall chuckled. She mentioned you’re afraid to fly.
I bet she did.
Are you asleep?
Of course I am. Charlotte snorted. I’m dreaming, right?
Niall took a minute to think. He didn’t know what gift would allow Charlotte to dream in real time, or give her the ability to see him even though he couldn’t see her, especially as a human. Her gifts wouldn’t manifest until she was bound. He knew that the king’s sister, Fiona, was working with both Icelandic and Scottish historians to sort out much of their “missing” heritage, but he wasn’t sure if she’d gotten a handle on some of the rarer gifts. Are you still with me?
I am, lass. Sorry.
The strings on one of his guitars shook and discordant notes sounded in the quiet of the room. Niall narrowed his eyes, not entirely certain he was seeing what he was seeing.
Is this a 1957 Les Paul? The strings on the guitar sang out again.
Yes. How did you know?
I know enough to be dangerous, I suppose. How often do you play?
Not as much as I’d like, he admitted. I tend to be behind the kit more.
You’re sponsored by Pearl, right?
I am. Niall grinned. Have you been stalking me, lass?
I plead the Fifth.
The strings on the guitar shook again.
Do you play?
No. Charlotte chuckled. No patience. I can fake a beat and sing marginally well, but that’s about it.
I’d love to hear you.
No, I don’t think you would. She sighed. You know, I think you may have ruined my weekend.
How so?
I’m supposed to have a semi-blind date with a guy I met through a friend, but he pales in comparison to you. Let’s be honest, all men pale in comparison to you. Which begs the question…how am I going to find a man who is both a drummer and has a magnificent Scottish accent?
Niall went cold. Don’t. I will find you.
Oh. Okay, then. You do that. Charlotte giggled. Are you tall as well?
What do you consider tall?
I’d rather not risk offending you. How tall are you? It’s the only thing I haven’t been able to find out on Google.
Six foot three.
Oh, so, so perfect. She sighed again. I really should exorcise you and stop allowing you into my dreams.
I’m serious, love. I’ll find you. Give me three days.
That would be Saturday. How about I go on the date and then you and I can hook up when you get here?
You don’t really think I’ll find you, do you?
Charlotte giggled again. No, I really don’t…I mean, I know you probably could, but you’re a busy, famous rock star. I’m a nobody. But even though I know all of this…I’m liking this dream anyway. Maybe I will cancel.
I’m quite serious, love. I’d rather you didn’t go on the date.
Well, I’ll decide when I wake up and join reality again. Charlotte snorted. I really must stop thinking about you. It’s becoming a problem.
Niall smiled. Is it?
I just admitted too much, didn’t I?
Not when you admit you’re in love with me.
Did I do that?
That’s what I heard.
Wow, you’re confident. She sighed.
Without warning, the connection was broken and Niall found himself suddenly sober…and without his cell phone. He had very few phone numbers memorized, and he needed to talk to Grace. Before he could call Kenna for Grace’s number, however, his house phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Ollie. Is your cell not working?”
Oliver Bardsley was Fallen Crown’s bass player and, outside of Payton, Niall’s closest friend.
“That’s one way of describing it.” Niall sighed. “It’s currently smashed in a few pieces on my foyer floor.”
“I won’t ask.”
“Probably wise,” Niall admitted. “What’s up?”
“I have the numbers on the shipment and I’ve filled Dalton in on what we’re doing.”
Dalton Moore was the queen’s human brother, co-head of the human side of the security department that protected the royals, and ex-FBI. He and his partner, Cole Drake, were often sent on assignments that were too dangerous for the Cauld Ane. Niall had contacted them on behalf of one of their human charities housed under Rogue, their parent company.
“Is he able to help?” Niall asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Aye,” Ollie said. “He said Cole’s contact at MI-6, Bronwen Boyer, is well aware of the trafficking issues the U.K.’s dealing with. Especially with the American Super Bowl right around the corner. They’re on high alert. How accurate is the information from Alana, do you think?”
Alana McGuire was a young woman who had managed to escape from a group of traffickers who were promising to send young girls wherever the demand was. Her escape was recent, less than a week ago, and Niall was doing his best to keep her hidden.
“She’s scared to death, Ollie. I think she’s telling the truth. Colleen certainly believes her. Whether or not whoever was holding her was truthful is what we need to determine, but I have another pressing matter that I have to attend to.”
“I can dog this, Nye. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Okay, I’ll coordinate with Cole and Dalton and keep you in the loop.”
Niall nodded. “Thanks. We’ll talk tomorrow, eh?”
“Aye,” Ollie said, and hung up.
Niall sat for a few minutes, processing the information from Oliver, and then dialed Kenna. If anyone had Grace’s phone number it would be her, and he sure as hell wasn’t calling his brother. Grace had been hired as Kenna’s assistant, even though it was more of a ruse to keep her close to Max. What no one really expected was that Grace would be brilliant at the job. Her biggest asset was the ability to handle Max when he was in a “mood,” which happened less and less now that he had bound her.
Phone number acquired, Niall dialed Grace’s number.
She answered after one ring. “Grace speaking.”
“Hi, Grace, it’s Niall.”
“Hi. I understand you’ve had a little mishap with your cell phone,” she droned. “What number are you calling from?”
“Kenna called you, eh
?”
“She did,” Grace said.
“I’m calling from my home phone.”
“Did you want to talk to Max?”
“No,” he snapped, a little more than he intended. “Sorry. No, lass, I don’t want to speak with him.”
Grace sighed. “I wish you would. He’s miserable.”
“Good.”
She didn’t respond and Niall squeezed his eyes shut. He adored his sister-in-law. It wasn’t her fault she was mated to a bastard. “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t ring to demonize my brother.”
“Good,” she mimicked. “What can I do for you?” she added with over-politeness. “Outside of a new phone, of course.”
“I need some information on Charlotte, particularly her address.”
“My Charlotte?”
“Aye,” he said.
“Why?”
“She’s my mate,” he said.
“Wha-what? Really?”
“Aye. Will you give me her contact information?” Niall pressed. “Or are you going to make this hard on me?”
“Well, I suppose that depends on how much you tell me.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Seriously, Grace?”
“What? I’m a woman, and even if I’m admittedly a little irritated with you, I want details. You’ve just told me my best friend is your mate. You can’t cut me off now.”
Niall sat down in one of the chairs by the window overlooking the river. “It started when we came to the States to see you. I felt her. Of course, I couldn’t talk to her because she wasn’t twenty-five, but I knew she was at least on the continent.”
“Wow. What does that feel like?”
“It’s an energy more than anything, really. When she reached ár mökunar, I could feel her extreme emotions, but because she couldn’t respond to me when I would attempt to speak to her, I didn’t know who she was.”
“So, what changed?”
“She responded.”
“Shut up,” Grace exclaimed. “Really? How?”
“She dreams and when she does, she pulls me in with her.”
“Wow,” Grace whispered. “That’s unreal.”
“Aye, lass, it’s quite remarkable.” Niall stared out at the water. “So, now will you give me Charlotte’s number?”
“Of course I’ll give you Charlie’s information,” Grace said.