Spellbound by the Angui (Cipher's Kiss Book 2): A Scottish Highlander Time Travel Romance

by Heather Walker

  She decided to follow the women, as good a starting point as any, and headed down the footpath going the same direction. In less than twenty paces, the path opened onto a paved sidewalk. A cobblestone street passed in front of her, lined with shops going both ways as far as the eye could see.

  Horse-drawn carts and carriages rattled back and forth before Ellen’s eyes. Not even the knowledge that she was on her way to eighteenth-century Aberdeen could prepare her for the shock. It really was all true. Everything Ree and Ned and Louis had told her must be true.

  The revelation gave her courage. They’d told her the truth, so she had a job to do. She had to warn Malcolm and Louis of impending disaster. He said she warned him. Now she had to do it.

  She stopped a well-dressed gentleman twirling his lion-headed walking cane. “Excuse me. Could you please direct me to the British garrison?”

  He pointed his cane down the street. “Two blocks that way. Ye cannae miss it,” he said in a thick Scottish accent.

  “Thank you,” she exclaimed. She definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

  He smiled and touched his three-cornered hat to her before he strolled away.

  Ellen hurried down the street and crossed two more streets, but she had to be careful. Without traffic signals, the carts and conveyances streamed in every direction at once. She hesitated before daring to set foot off the sidewalk. She observed a woman cross nearby. The woman waited for a small space to open right in front of her, entered it, and when another opening presented itself, she dodged from one gap to another until she made it to the other side. Ellen copied her and arrived breathless and excited on the other sidewalk. Who would have believed crossing a street could present such a challenge?

  She continued on her way until she beheld a huge brick edifice perched at the very edge of town near the harbor wharf. Ship masts towered over the garrison, and battalions of red-coated soldiers practiced maneuvers in the yard outside. Ellen hovered off at a distance, measuring the place. How could she get inside without causing too much of a stir? How exactly did an unknown woman get inside that behemoth to talk to a British Major she’d never met?

  What the heck. What did she have to lose by trying? Maybe if she just went for it, no one would question her. She puffed out a quick breath between her cheeks and struck out across another street. She skirted around the battalion to an innocuous little wooden door set in the brick wall. None of the soldiers looked sideways at her. They were much too busy listening to their commanding officer yelling orders.

  She seized the latch and slipped inside. The door made a solid clunk when she slotted it into place. She found herself in a dismal, freezing stone passage dwindling off to nothing in the distance. She had no choice but to follow it and sailed down the passage with her skirts billowing. More soldiers passed, but none of them spoke to her. Maybe they were used to women in the garrison. How should she know?

  At last, two young soldiers stopped her. They looked barely old enough to be out of high school, much less in the British Army. They bobbed their hats. “May we be of service, madam?”

  Ellen blushed to the roots of her hair. No one had ever called her that before, and their accent gave her a secret thrill. “Oh! Thank you. I wonder if you could direct me to Major Kirk’s office. I have some business with him.”

  One of the soldiers pointed over his shoulder. “Down this passage to the end, then turn right, and it’s the fourth door on the left.”

  “Thank you.” She went on her way, but her heart wouldn’t keep still. Was she really about to see Louis here, in Aberdeen?

  She traversed the rest of the corridor and turned where the soldier told her. She counted three doors on the left and came to the fourth door standing open. Peeking in, she spotted a man seated behind the desk. He riffled a huge stack of papers like he owned them, then raised his sharp blue eyes when Ellen appeared.

  He wore his sandy-brown hair tied behind his neck like all the men she’d seen in this town. A tight black jacket hugged his barrel chest, shiny gold buttons lining both sides all the way to his shoulders. A diagonal bandolier of plaid cloth hung across his torso. His hawkish, angular features and pointed aquiline nose gave him a daunting appearance.

  Ellen drew back in surprise. “Oh! I’m sorry. I must have the wrong office.”

  He rose to his feet and said, “May I help ye?”

  “I was just looking for Major Kirk, but I can see I have the wrong office. Excuse me,” she said, noticing his kilt of the same plaid as the piece on his shoulder.

  She tried to withdraw, but he called out after her, “Ye’re American, are ye no’?”

  Her cheeks burned, and her every instinct told her to flee. “Yes, I am. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go try to find Major Kirk’s office.”

  “This is his office, but he’s no’ here,” the man replied. “I’m waiting for him meself. A lady as fine as ye’d be welcome to wait along with me, if ye wish.”

  He settled himself back in the chair and went back to studying the papers. For someone waiting in another man’s office, he certainly made free with the major’s business. “May I ask who you are?”

  “Me name’s Wallace Gunn. What’s yers?” He lifted his eyes to her face.

  She experienced a disturbing drilling sensation whenever he looked at her. She opened her mouth, then wondered whether she should she tell him her name. Who was he? “Gunn!” she exclaimed. “Then you’re…” She stopped herself. “Malcolm Gunn is supposed to be staying in this garrison too. Do you know where I can find him?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Ye ken Malcolm Gunn, do ye? May I ask how ye come to ken him?”

  She waved her hand and looked away, kicking herself for mentioning Malcolm. Now she’d gotten herself into a fix and only been in this town a matter of minutes. “Oh, you know. I just know him from…around. Do you have any idea when Major Kirk will get back?”

  “None at all. He was supposed to be back hours ago. I have no notion where he’s gone, but I wish he’d step lively. I’ve important business to discuss with him.”

  A wiggly worm of comprehension weaseled its way into Ellen’s mind. “What business is that?”

  The man stalked around the desk without taking his eyes off her. “Ye havenae told me yer name. I dinnae like to think ye’d hide anything from me, especially as ye’re in a British garrison in search of the same man I am, who has flown the coop when he’s most wanted. If I was in yer place, I’d tell me yer name before I’m liable to start imagining things I shouldnae.”

  Ellen gulped. This man exuded danger. Whoever he was, he was no friend of Louis’s or Malcolm’s. He’d said his name was Gunn. He must be Falisa. Malcolm said the Falisa sent someone to Aberdeen to intercept him and Louis. This must be the man. What did Malcolm call him? Obasi Jelan.

  Ellen had to tread lightly here. If he found out she was helping the Angui, he would definitely have her at a disadvantage. “My name is Ellen Burke if you must know.”

  “And may I ask what yer business is with Major Kirk?” The man gestured at the office. “It’s no’ often a British officer gets a visitor of the fairer sex in a place like this.”

  “I have a message for him,” Ellen replied, “from one of his…relatives.”

  “His relatives!” Wallace cried.

  Ellen cringed. She was digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole she couldn’t get out of. She should have worked out a plausible cover story before she left San Francisco. She spun away. “I better go. I’ll come back later. Will you let Major Kirk know I was here? Thank you.”

  She made a dive for the door, but he reacted faster. She never knew a mortal man could move that fast. He lunged into her path and blocked her way. “Ye’re no’ going anywhere.”

  She jerked away, ready to spring. Oh, how she wished she’d brought a weapon with her! She cursed Ree for her practical advice, wishing she’d listened to her own instincts.

  She rounded on the man, ready to tear him to pieces. “Don’t you dare
touch me!”

  He swiveled around with his back to the door, trapping her in this office. Her bared teeth, and her shrieks didn’t faze him in the slightest. “Now ye’ll tell me all ye ken about Louis Kirk and his relatives.”

  Ellen’s eyes darted around the room in search of anything to defend herself. Her mind raced. She had to get out of here, but she had to do it in such a way that Wallace didn’t follow her. He could trail her straight to Louis if she wasn’t careful.

  “I don’t know anything about them,” she snarled. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  “No?” He chuckled low and menacing in his throat. “Well, that only makes the job more fun, does it no’? Come along and sit ye down, and we’ll have a nice wee chat all about Louis Kirk’s relatives. Would that please ye?”

  “Get out of my way!” she thundered. “I’m leaving this garrison, and if you stand in my way a second longer, I’ll scream. The whole British Army will come down on your head, and I hear they don’t care much for Highlanders.”

  A flicker of doubt glinted in his eyes. The next instant, it vanished and a spark of pure evil hatred took its place. “Ye’re one of them. Ye’re one of that rotten breed, and no mistake. Never ye mind. Ye’ll die along with the rest of them. Ye’ll never leave this office if I have anything to do with it.” So saying, he seized the door and swung it shut.

  In front of Ellen’s startled eyes, he shot the bolt to lock them in together. Her jaw dropped in horror. Fighting her way out of this room was one thing. If she could distract him or dodge around him, she could have ducked through the open door. Now the prospect of escape had dwindled to nonexistent. She could never get out of here. Now he knew she was in league with the Angui. He would kill her, just like the Falisa killed the rest of them, just like Ree warned her they would.

  Wallace took a few menacing steps toward her.

  Ellen backed away and bumped into the desk. She glanced down for a fraction of a second in search of anything to fight him off. When she looked up, he was too close. She inched farther away, and her hand swept half the papers onto the floor.

  His lips twisted into a sadistic leer as he advanced another two steps, keeping his bulky frame between her and the door.

  Ellen made a desperate plunge to scoot past him, but he intercepted her and she had to jump clear. Her pulse jackhammered in her head. She had to get out of here. Nothing else mattered. If she went down now, Louis would never find out this scumbag was after him. Wallace would blow Malcolm’s cover, and that could leave the rest of the Angui exposed.

  Right now, though, she couldn’t think of any way to get out of this room. Without thinking, she let out a piercing shriek. She didn’t mean to. It just came out by itself. It echoed off the stone walls, and the noise electrified her to fight back. She screamed a second time, only louder.

  The sound shot through Wallace. Snarling in rage, he launched himself at her and tried to grab her. Ellen leaped back just in time to miss his hands threatening to close around her throat. He came at her again, his face contorted into an animal mask of insane fury. At the last possible second, she sidestepped, and he charged past her by a hair. Ellen spun around and gave him an almighty kick in the ribs that sent him careening over. He stumbled and crashed face first into the room’s only window.

  The glass shattered in a tinkling shower of broken shards. Wallace slumped against the broken pane and flopped to the floor. He rolled onto his left side, his head lolling back to reveal a gaping bloody gash across his throat.

  His eyes searched the ceiling for some answer to his dilemma, but he found only Ellen’s face staring down on him from above. He opened his mouth, but no air entered his lungs. His lips moved in a silent attempt at speech while blood gurgled out of his torn neck and puddled all over the floor. Blood darkened his coat and stained his plaid, spattered his cheeks and saturated his hair. Ellen never would have believed a human body could contain so much blood. She couldn’t move. She had to stand there and watch this man bleed out before her eyes. Air bubbles popped in the sticky mess of his throat while his startled eyes pierced her to the marrow.

  Ellen gazed down in shock at the stricken form. She couldn’t be responsible for this man’s death. She couldn’t. Her brain refused to accept the inevitable truth, but what choice did she have? She kicked him into the window. No way could the finest doctors with the most advanced surgical techniques put all that blood back into his veins.

  A heavy weight sank into her guts. She was stuck here in prehistoric Aberdeen, and this man was just as dead as if she’d shot him in the head with a gun. How could she live with herself after this? She could send herself back to San Francisco, but she didn’t even want to do that. She wanted to die right here and never have to live with herself again.

  Wallace raised his hand toward her once, but she jerked away before he touched her with his bloody fingers. The next thing she knew, that hand slapped down into the blood and his eyes glazed over. All at once, his body stiffened and then he jerked and twitched for a long disgusting moment. Then a horrible stillness draped over him and that was it. He stopped moving, and he never moved again.

  Ellen stood frozen to the spot, his dead eyes holding her transfixed. Her mind refused to function. She’d killed him. He was dead. She couldn’t even be happy that he no longer threatened Louis or Malcolm.

  A shout went up outside, and soon the battalion she’d seen practicing in the yard trooped past the shattered window. None of the soldiers glanced right or left, but the sight snapped Ellen out of her trance. She was a murderer. In a few minutes, someone would come to investigate the scuffle and find Wallace dead, and they would throw her in prison.

  She couldn’t let that happen, but she couldn’t go out through the door, either. That would attract attention. She had to leave it closed and locked. She had to get away. She had to find Louis and deliver her warning so she could cast the spell and go back where she belonged.

  What a fool she was to ever come here in the first place! She should have kept her mouth shut and let Ree or Ned take their chances in Scotland. Now how was she going to get out of here without getting caught?

  The soldiers filed by the window until the last ranks disappeared around the corner. Ellen held her breath in anxious anticipation. When the last tramping footstep receded out of earshot, she crept to the broken window and peeped out.

  People of every age and description crossed the streets. Women carried baskets on their arms and parasols over their shoulders. Men drove their wagons and talked in front of the shops. No one noticed her.

  She took hold of the last shard of broken glass between her thumb and index finger, lifted it out of the pane, and laid it on the floor next to Wallace. She tiptoed around his body to position herself in front of the hole. She studied the surroundings outside, but nothing had changed. She just had to take a firm grip on herself and do it—the quicker, the better. Once she got outside, she had to hurry away like nothing had happened. She had to put as much distance between herself and this office as she possibly could.

  She made up her mind in a heartbeat to head for the park where she’d first appeared. Once she did that, she would be able to calm down enough to think what to do. Obasi Jelan was dead, but he obviously left that letter for other Falisa to find. If anybody saw it, they would send someone else to apprehend Malcolm and Louis.

  Ellen didn’t give herself time to hesitate. She dove through the window and landed on her hands in the cobbled yard outside the garrison. She scrambled her feet over the sill and came to rest outside. She stood up straight and smoothed her skirts. Still no one paid the slightest attention to her.

  She set off the way she’d come, too tense to breathe, and didn’t stop to check before she crossed the streets. She measured her direction on the hoof and disappeared into the trees when she reached the park. She returned to the same spot where she’d appeared from San Francisco. Nothing prevented her from returning to her own time here and now. She could cast the spell when
ever she wanted, but one thing gave her pause. She hadn’t completed her mission. She hadn’t warned either Louis or Malcolm. They were still in danger from the Falisa.

  Her breath raked across her parched throat, and her disheveled hair hung in her eyes. She stared all around her at unseen enemies sneaking in to nab her. She wanted nothing more than to scream and run from this crazy dangerous world, but she dared not show her face in San Francisco. She couldn’t look Louis in the eye and say she’d failed. Not even killing Wallace could excuse that.

  She gathered her resolve but couldn’t come up with any decent strategy. Louis wasn’t at the garrison like they’d thought he would be. How could she locate him without getting herself caught in the bargain? If she could only find him, she could explain about Wallace. He would believe her. He would use his position in the military to help her.

  Her addled brain started to clear as she studied the woods around her. Paths crisscrossed going a million directions. One of them must lead to other parts of the city. She could disappear into a crowd.

  She picked a path at random, keeping her eyes on the ground and avoiding people like the plague until she came to another busy street. A different set of shops faced her across the cobblestones. Then she spied something that gave her hope. A sign over one of the buildings read Aberdeen Post Office.

  Of course! She would send Louis a letter. She would ask him to meet her at a certain time. If she intimated the nature of her message, he might just come. She plucked up her courage and stepped out onto the sidewalk. At that moment, a kilted Highlander strode out in front of her and collided with her full tilt.

  Ellen shrieked in surprise.

  He roared in alarm, and they both yanked away at the same moment. They got tangled in their haste to extricate themselves from the muddle and she happened to catch sight of his face.

  “Louis! Louis Kirk!”

  Chapter 8

  Louis glared at Ellen with flashing eyes. “I’ll thank ye to keep yer voice down here, lassie.”