by Lora Andrews
Ewen reached for her arm. “Nay, we depart. Others are bound to follow.”
She searched his face, a haunted expression tightening the edges of her eyes. “We can’t just leave. What about—?”
“You did well, lass. Your kin would be proud of your courage. But this is no’ the time for mercy.” He beheld her quivering limbs. “Listen carefully. We must find cover. Do no’ travel on familiar roads. Advance onto another path and quicken the pace afore we are seen. Quickly, now.”
“I don’t know if I can drive.”
“You can.” He smiled. “You will.”
“Okay.” The SUV rumbled beneath them, and she directed the vehicle forward.
Ewen exhaled, straightening in his seat beside his unwitting ally. Despite her fear, she had been willing to help their assailants, proving herself a braw lass, first with her bravery in the woods and now with her courage during their escape.
But there was much underfoot. Twice now, they had evaded her attackers. Lovely as she might be, he and the Lady Caitlin had much to discuss.
FIVE
Images from the past hour reeled through Caitlin’s mind: the attack, the car chase, the deadly crash. She forced air into her lungs, unable to purge the smell of burning rubber from her nose. Back roads, back roads, back roads. The mantra ran through her head. Get off the main road.
She assumed her pursuers had been the lowlifes who attacked them in the woods, but what if—
No. They had been in hot pursuit, and now they were dead. They had to be. No one walked away from a crash like that.
Oh god, what had she done?
She was panicking when she needed to focus. Crossroads sprang off the main road and wove through miles of quiet neighborhoods with ranch style homes and grassy sidewalks. Clutching the steering wheel, she took a random turn onto a street running off Lake and glanced at the rearview mirror expecting to see another black SUV.
The man, Ewen, sat in silence. Back rigid against the seat, his eyes were fixated on the road ahead. She had trusted him the moment he jumped to her rescue. Instinctively. That alone should be setting off all kinds of alarm bells in her head. She didn’t instinctively trust anyone, never mind a guy who had fallen out of the sky. Clearly, he was dangerous. He had the battle skills of a Spartan and had held his ground against six armed men.
Six.
Who did that?
He shoved thick, black hair off his rugged face, the strands falling carelessly at his neck. A muscle twitched along the side of his jaw. Maybe he felt guilty about orchestrating the accident. God knows, she did. After all, she was the one who had made that fatal call. He hadn’t shoved her foot against the brake, that’s for sure. And ultimately, she would be the one to shoulder the blame for whatever consequences were bound to follow.
Tears stung the back of her eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. She wiped away an errant tear and nearly struck a parked car. She jerked in her seat, her thoughts coming to a screeching halt.
“Stop the SUV. Take a moment to compose yourself. Station the cart there.” He motioned to an empty spot along the road.
An unexpected surge of irritation filled her. She pulled the vehicle parallel to the curb, threw open the door, and launched her body from the car, her chest tightening with each harried step. In the twelve years she’d held a license, she’d been involved in one accident. One. At sixteen. With the ink still wet on her permit, a late-for-work bus driver broadsided her a block from home. Her mother had gone ballistic, especially when she learned the accident had been reported to the police.
That crash paled in comparison to this one, and admitting she had been somewhat exhilarated when she applied the brake only exasperated her fragile hold on her emotions. What had she been thinking? A stunt of this magnitude could only lead to harm. She was lucky to be alive—lucky it hadn’t been her car twisted like a pretzel on a Tiverton road.
Ewen grabbed her arm and gently led her to a grassy area off the road near the side of her car. Gripping her torso in comfort, she stared at the dry patches of grass eating up chunks of the sidewalk. She needed a clear head. Letting her anxiety get the best of her would only make the situation worse. She sucked in a breath and exhaled through her teeth.
“They would have shown you no mercy, lass.” He stood behind her. Close. His breath fanned strands of her hair when he spoke.
He was right. She couldn’t hold herself accountable for the actions of others. Still, the idea that she was responsible for their deaths devastated her. And whining about it wasn’t going to delay the inevitable. She needed to call the police and explain her involvement in the crash. It was the right thing to do.
But what if it destroyed her chances of adopting Jadiel? Minor traffic violations were typically excluded from a background check and didn’t disqualify a potential candidate from the process. Now an accident of this magnitude, with injuries and possible deaths, was another story. If criminal charges were filed…
There was no damage to her car. She had seen no witnesses. Other than Ewen and the attackers, who she doubted would incriminate themselves by reporting the accident, there was no evidence tying her to the scene. She could, technically, escape with no one the wiser.
But she knew. What type of an example would she set for a seven-year-old boy if she ran from her conscience because the morally-correct decision could destroy her life’s dream? She wasn’t that person, and if she chose that road, then she didn’t deserve to be someone’s mother.
There was no choice. Taking a deep breath, she wiped the moisture from her eyes, and faced the strange man watching her intently with eyes so blue they stunned.
“Thank you for what you did back there.”
He extended his arm and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “It’s a dark place you find yourself when called to choose between your own fate and that of another living being.” His voice rumbled, barely above a whisper. “You canna escape the choice when the fates place it before you. It is done. You’ve chosen wisely. Now, you must make another choice.”
The air between them grew thick. Her body responded to his closeness, to the compassion breathing in the depths of his eyes. Common sense told her to pull away. Instead, she stood there, trapped by the intensity of his gaze, her feet planted to the ground and the warmth of his palm penetrating her skin.
She wanted to close her eyes and lean into his touch.
“Choose to forgive yourself, lass. Don’t be dammed by guilt. It’s the way of it. But only you can choose.” His hand dropped from her face. Crisp air swept into the void where his palm had caressed her cheek.
With an uneven breath, she ran a hand through her hair, tugged her shirt, and brushed imaginary dust specks from her knees to keep from making a fool of herself. God, he smelled sexy. And try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the heat radiating from his body.
“Better now?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
“Yep.” No wonder men like him graced the covers of millions of romance novels. The lure was irresistible. “Who are you? I saw you…fall.” Without sounding crazy, “fall” was the only word she knew to describe how his body had launched from mid-air. “What happened to you?”
“There were no others with me when I fell?”
“No.” She shook her head as if that simple motion would juggle the facts into something coherent.
“Will you confess to me what you witnessed?”
“Okay. Will you keep an open mind and not accuse me of witchcraft? Because there’s no way I can tell you what I saw without sounding mentally unstable.”
His eyes hardened. “Aye.”
Caitlin let out a breath. “I was running. Everything appeared normal. But I guess that’s not true. I mean, there was no one at the park. And trust me, there’s always someone there, running or walking their dog. And, well, I was running one minute and the next, there’s a veritable windstorm accompanied by lightning and thunder.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe it was a tor
nado. But whatever it was, you fell out of it.”
“You were running from those men?” Lips thinned, his jaw ticked beneath his clenched teeth.
“No. Not until I met you.” Something flickered in those hardened depths. Disbelief? “Look, I know this sounds crazy. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for what happened to you. But those men? What do they want with me?” Men with swords? None of this made any sense. “I need to call the police.”
“Aye, there is much unanswered.” He scanned the neighborhood before swinging his killer eyes back to her face. “First, we need to find shelter. Do you have a home, Caitlin?”
“Yeah, I do.” But there was no way she was going home. Not with him. “Wait. They can probably trace my address from my license plate, right?”
What couldn’t they do? If they knew where to find her during a predictable morning routine, then they knew where she resided. They knew where she worked.
Oh, no. The school. Her kids.
His vacant expression told her he had no clue what she meant by tracing her address or the ramifications of such an action. Of course, they could track her. Going home was probably the stupidest thing she could do right now.
“We need to go to the authorities.” She said it aloud more to convince herself than him. “I don’t know what will happen from there, but those men found me in the woods. They’ll find me at home. I’m sure the evidence will support our version of the accident.” It had to. She didn’t know what she would do if the police didn’t believe her account of this morning’s events. “At the very minimum, we’ll have their protection, right?”
“No,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “I am no’ familiar with this police you speak of. We find shelter. I will brook no argument.”
She ignored the “brook no argument” comment. “You’re not familiar with the police? Cops? Bobbies? Scotland Yard?”
No sign of recognition on his face.
“Where are you from?” Some isolated village in South America?
Ewen ran a hand through his hair. His face registered the weariness they both felt. “Och lass, I am beginning to think the question is not where, but when. Go on, best enter your SUV lest we are discovered by our enemies before securing a proper haven for our retreat.”
Not where but when? What exactly did that mean?
Caitlin got into the car and waited for Ewen to do the same. He fumbled with the door, seemingly ignorant of the handle. She leaned over and pushed open the latch from the inside. He entered the car, and the look he gave her sent flutters flying up her chest.
She started the engine. “I am going to the police.” Her eyes lowered to the bloodstains on his shirt. “And you should probably think about seeing a doctor. Have someone take a look at your injuries. I’ll bring you to the ER after I’ve filed the report.” If they didn’t arrest her first and throw her into a Tiverton jail cell.
Ewen’s confused expression was quickly replaced with one of anger. “Nay, we set camp, and that is my final word on the matter.”
Caitlin opened her mouth.
He leaned over, his eyes blazing hot when he spoke. “Your stubbornness will endanger us both. You will do as you are charged, or I’ll commandeer this bluidy contraption myself. Ken my meaning, woman?”
“The hell I will.” She yanked her wrist free and managed to keep her voice in check. “Get out. Seriously, get the hell out of my car. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions, thank you.”
He sat without moving a muscle, daring her to defy him. Clearly a man unaccustomed to having his orders challenged. And what the hell was he wearing, anyway? Sheesh. He was behemoth, all wide shouldered and powerful, and by all accounts, she should be scared of him. He could break her neck with a single twist of his hands.
Instead, she glared at him with irritation pumping in her blood. “I don’t take orders from you, or anyone. Not now. Not ever.” That ended the minute the ink dried on her divorce papers.
Her words had no effect on the still-as-stone caveman extraordinaire. She unzipped her waist pack. “Fine. You won’t get out. No problem. You don’t want me to go to the police. No problem. I’ll call the police station and they can meet us here. Problem solved.”
With a sweet smile plastered to her face, she rummaged through her empty pouch, patted her armband, and then remembered she had lost her phone during the struggle in the woods. “Shit, shit, shit.” Caitlin beat her hand on the steering wheel.
Ewen laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle that filled the interior of the car.
“You find this funny?” She fought the urge to slap the pig-headed, egotistical male upside the head. The least he could do was hide his amusement.
“God’s teeth, woman, I’ve never met a more willful, foul-mouthed, contrary lass.” He let out a long sigh, the anger ebbing from his expression.
Maybe she had overreacted, but she was going to the police, no matter what he said. She shot him her best I’m-not-budging stare.
The corners of his mouth quirked. He looked away and ran a hand over his face. “You’ve won this battle, my lady. As your captive, I yield. Tell me. Is this police a sept on your chief’s lands?”
A sept?
It suddenly dawned on her that he truly had no clue what she meant by the word “police.” Other aspects of his unusual behavior came to mind. His clothing. His unusual speech. The way his face blanched when she had sped out of the parking lot.
The vortex.
Not where but when.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge as her brain wrestled with an answer that would not synchronize with her current grasp of reality. Because what she was thinking couldn’t be true, could it?
“The police are people who keep order. Protect our citizens. Um, I guess like knights?” The word “knights” seemed to trigger some sort of understanding in him.
“In service to your king?” He watched her with those intelligent eyes while waiting for her response.
King? She shook her head slowly. The clothing. The hair. The man’s overall demeanor. It was as if he’d stepped out of the pages of a history book. But that wasn’t possible. So not possible, but…
“No,” she said, “we don’t have a king in this country. There are police in every city or town. People whose job it is to protect the citizens of that territory.”
Maybe he’d suffered brain damage during the fall. A concussion might explain his disorientation, but it did squat to explain everything else.
“Ah, then I can understand your insistence to approach these guardians. You trust these men can aid you?”
And women, she thought. Caitlin answered his question with a nod, her mind surging with the idea that Ewen had somehow been transported from the past into the present. Whatever his origins, one thing was clear, going to the police with him as a witness might not be the smartest thing to do. He certainly wasn’t going to lend any credibility to her bewildering story. How could she explain his presence when it made absolutely no sense?
“We shall proceed then, speak with your police, and negotiate your protection.”
“Okay.” She put the car into drive. Ewen gave her one last look and straightened in his seat.
The road ended in a cul-de-sac, so Caitlin maneuvered the vehicle around the cavity and headed back onto the main road. Senses heightened, she feared another run-in with a black Escalade while her mind chugged along with endless questions about Ewen.
With the police station several miles away, she had no choice but to move back onto a more visible road. At the intersection of Route 177, she took a left. A minute or so later, with her hands sweating, she saw the sign for Fish Road and bore right.
Almost there.
She was so absorbed in every detail in the rearview mirror, she didn’t see the other car approach until it was too late. Caitlin’s mouth locked. Time froze around her as the black Escalade sped across the intersection and slammed into Ewen’s door.
The sound of the crash t
ore through her body. Airbags inflated. Glass shards flew across the cabin. The impact spun the car across the intersection. Her body jerked inside like a rag doll caught in a metal can. When the dizzying sensation finally stopped, the vehicle was facing in the opposite direction.
She sat, stunned, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Her door opened.
A black-suited man reached inside and wedged his body between the opened door and the SUV’s frame. Fresh bruises covered the skin above his right eye and extended outward to dark blond hair cut close to his scalp.
“We ditched the swords.” He winked and waived a gun. “Boss man swears by the old ways, but nothing says die like a Glock.”
She was hallucinating—please let this be a dream—because she didn’t want to accept the reality of what this meant.
“You can come quietly, or we can have some fun? What’s it gonna be, darlin’?”
He was American, but she couldn’t place the accent. An involuntary shaking snaked through her body. Please, please, let this be a dream.
His firm hands gripped her shoulders and lifted her from the car, shoving her into the arms of another suited guard. And just like that, she was ushered into a waiting SUV.
The door to a blue house across the street opened. A petite blond woman poked her head outside. Her eyes widened as she took in the crash scene. She exited the house and descended the stairs, catching the attention of the guard with the black eye.
“No!” Caitlin screamed, “Get back in the house.”
The car door slammed shut in her face.
The man crossed the road and entered the yard, sauntering along the lovely brick pathway to meet the woman halfway.
He’d kill her to keep her quiet. “Oh, my god, oh, my god.” Panic overrode Caitlin’s senses. She banged her fists against the window. There were no interior door handles. No locks. Nothing. A piece of metal could score the glass. She fell to her knees, her hands trembling as they raked over the vinyl flooring, searching under the seats before heaving her body back onto the leather seat. She had to find a way to warn the woman.
