Time Bound

by Lora Andrews

  She couldn’t agree more.

  “You never disappoint, my boy. This sgain dubh is anything but common. You know this. But if it is proof you seek, then its proof you shall have.”

  The man swaggered to the SUV, dagger in hand.

  “We’re no threat to you.” She couldn’t see what he reached for, but she knew whatever happened next would change everything.

  He returned with a cocky stride and stopped at the same spot he had vacated a moment ago. Her scalp itched, a prickling heat that intensified and spread to her arms and legs, but what she could see of her skin was clear. No redness. No hives.

  “Ah, my dear Ms. Reed, we are beyond threats.”

  “It doesn’t have to be this way. We know nothing. We can’t incriminate you. Please, just let us go.”

  “How rude of me to forgo a proper introduction. Where are my manners? I am Simon MacInnes.” He bowed. “Son of Swene MacEwen, the last chief of the MacEwen’s of Otter.”

  Caitlin knew her MacEwen history. The man was crazy. “The last chief died in the late fifteenth century.”

  “So he did,” MacInnes said.

  Ewen’s expression hardened

  “But—” She stopped herself from saying the word impossible.

  “Close your mouth, my dear, it is most unbecoming a lady. Now, follow along, won’t you, or you’ll miss the best part of the show.” Holding the dagger in his hand, he signaled for one of the men to join him.

  A dark-skinned guard, clad in a black suit like all the others in the room, came to stand in the center of the area like a circus animal beneath the big top.

  “Extend your hand,” MacInnes commanded.

  The guard complied and opened his palm, his eyes void of emotion.

  In one angry swipe, MacInnes sliced the man’s hand.

  Caitlin gasped. Blood flowed from the gash and onto the floor.

  MacInnes reached into his pocket. He pulled out a quartz stone, displaying it between his thumb and forefinger. “The stone I seek is similar in size to this one. Now watch.”

  Laying his hand over the guard’s, he sandwiched the stone between the flesh of their palms. Light escaped their joined hands and flashed bright sunny streaks across the warehouse. Wind whipped Caitlin’s hair across her face. The magic’s force pressed her back against the chair. A wave of nausea hit, one so strong Caitlin clamped her mouth shut.

  When MacInnes freed the guard’s hand, all traces of the injury had disappeared. No angry red slice. Nothing but smooth skin and wet blood smeared across perfect skin.

  If she had been standing, her legs would have crumbled beneath her. Instead, she slumped against the cold, metal chair, dumbfounded, staring ahead at the softly glowing light that receded when Simon MacInnes slipped the stone into his pant pocket.

  “Christ,” Ewen exclaimed.

  “Indeed,” MacInnes answered. “There are three. I hold the Refiçío, and with it the power to heal. Mariota MacEwen escaped with the Tempus. Find it and you will undo the magic that carried you here. Can I offer you any greater proof than this?”

  Under his breath, Ewen whispered, “Bluidy hell.”

  Yeah, bloody hell summoned it up perfectly. How could she refute what she had just witnessed with her own eyes? Time travel. Healing rocks. A man bent on pulling a mystical stone from thin air.

  Ewen turned to her, his mouth slightly parted.

  The fear in his eyes mirrored her own because somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she had seen a similar stone. But where?

  “Very well,” Simon MacInnes began. “A stalemate. Let us suppose you truly have no knowledge of the stone—”

  “I don’t.” Caitlin interjected.

  “—as Mr. MacLean suggests. The fact remains that Mariota, or Mary, was the last known guardian of the stone.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Oh, but I do. History does not lie. I have eyewitness accounts documenting Mariota’s disappearance from MacEwen Castle with a glowing stone gripped in her hand. So who better to locate the stone than you, Ms. Reed?”

  “What?” Caitlin gasped.

  “It’s perfect, really. Consider it restorative justice. You find the stone. Mr. MacLean is returned home. Your parents are allowed to live.”

  My parents are allowed to live? Her lungs seized.

  Gary handed Simon MacInnes a tablet. With a flick of his finger, MacInnes swiped at the screen then pivoted the large touch screen for her viewing.

  Caitlin absorbed the scene unfolding before her. A scene where her parents sat at their cozy kitchen table, their bodies casually touching, her mother laughing in response to something her father had just said. Knowing her dad, he’d probably uttered some rude remark about a local politician as he read the morning paper.

  The pale yellow walls of her parent’s kitchen screamed through the screen. The newspaper spread out on the table, the date too small to read, yet she knew it was current. Today’s morning paper.

  “No.” Cold sweat covered her body like freezer burn spreading from the inside out. “No!”

  “Cooperate and your parents shall remain oblivious to the threat I pose to their charming existence. It’s a win-win situation for us all. Don’t you think?”

  Caitlin raised her head to meet his deadly stare. “I’m going to be sick.”

  “You have ten days to procure the stone. You’ll begin your search where it all began. Where a young boy met an uncertain future and grappled with the pain of abandonment by those who professed to protect him. You’ll start at the beginning. The birthplace of the Tempus Stone and the MacEwen Clan.”

  Scotland.

  ELEVEN

  Hours later, the SUV rolled to a stop several feet from a sleek jet. Navy blue and gray stripes zipped across the plane’s polished underbelly, fanning out to a pointed nose. A welcoming red carpet rolled from the limo to white stairs. It was a scene snatched from a motion picture or a celebrity news website.

  Only this wasn’t fiction, and she wasn’t a celebrity. Caitlin pushed back the bile rising in her throat and turned away from the tinted glass. This was it. There was no turning back.

  Soft leather seats enveloped her body inside an SUV that had probably cost twice her yearly salary. The off-white leather, near black wood accents, entertainment system, and dark tinted glass were a stark contrast to the black leather and vinyl interior of the modified-to-prevent-escape vehicle that had ferried her and Ewen from the car crash to the warehouse—with one major exception—the five brooding males sealed inside.

  Marcus sat at the helm, partnered with a nameless guard in the front passenger seat. She sat beside Ewen in a row of bucket seats opposite a seating configuration with a captain style chair occupied by MacInnes, a bench seat holding the burly guy who MacInnes had introduced as Daniel, and Gary, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Ewen since he’d entered the vehicle. She could grow a beard with the amount of testosterone circulating in the air, and the idea these men were all somehow linked to her through MacInnes only added to the pressure building in her chest.

  Caitlin pressed her legs to the seat, her skin sticking to the tailored leather. She didn’t want any part of her touching MacInnes, not even the tips of her pointy high-heeled shoes. Ewen patted her hand, and the unexpected gesture staunched the panic attack rising in her gut. She glanced at him, surprised at the calming effect he had on her body, then tugged at the hem of the black sheath dress MacInnes had forced her to wear.

  “You will hold true to our arrangement.” Dressed impeccably in a dark navy pinstripe suit and gray tie that matched his cold eyes, MacInnes leaned against the armrest with his hands clasped in his lap and one brown leather wing-toe shoe draped over his knee like a man in complete control of his world. And hers.

  Ewen slammed a fisted hand against his thigh. “You left her no choice but to comply.”

  MacInnes laughed his trademark laugh, but those silver eyes held no mirth. “I am true to my word and honorable to my interests, lad. On that, yo
u can trust.” He handed a file to Daniel and cocked his head in her direction. “Ms. Reed, you are free to decide. However, shall you fail to uphold your end of the bargain, then I, too, am free to act.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind.” There was no other option. The cost would be too great a sacrifice. She would cooperate, play the role he’d assigned, step aboard that plane, and kiss her best chance of escape goodbye. But she would bide her time and figure out a way to ensure her parents were safe from his threats, with or without the damned stone in her possession.

  The window lowered. A young, professional-looking woman approached the SUV. With a thousand-watt smile, she extended a slim, well-manicured hand through the open window.

  “Good Morning, Mr. MacInnes. Welcome back, sir.”

  MacInnes released her hand. “I trust there are no complications to delay our departure.”

  “No, sir. Captain Dunderdale has filed the ICAO flight plan. Notice of your intended ETA has been made with Perth. They will be ready to receive you upon arrival. You’ve been cleared for travel. After I process the faxed credentials, you and your guests are free to board.”

  “Very good.” MacInnes handed over the passports for the woman to inspect.

  “Thank you.” She opened the first passport. Her eyes flicked to Caitlin. She then proceeded to the next, inspecting Daniel’s, Gary’s, Marcus’s, and MacInnes’s before opening the last passport. Her eyes settled on Ewen.

  “Mr. Craig?”

  “Aye,” Ewen answered.

  The passport belonged to one of MacInnes’s guards—the man currently stationed outside Caitlin’s parent’s house and who supposedly bore a resemblance to Ewen.

  The woman would have to be blind not to notice the differences between the two men. Sure, on paper, both were tall and blue eyed. The other man lacked Ewen’s square jaw, his brilliant blue eyes, and the lush lower lip set against dark stubble that added an element of intrigue to his rugged features.

  The standard employee black suit was a staple of all men in MacInnes’s employ. On Ewen, it only served to distinguish him from the rest. Square shoulders stretched the fine fabric taut across his chest. Even scruffy, with his hair tied back, a style she normally didn’t find attractive on men, she was compelled to look.

  To imagine…

  Feeling her face heat, Caitlin quickly turned away.

  No, the two men looked nothing alike.

  Now, if only the woman would expose the scam and thwart MacInnes’s kidnapping attempt. The agent’s discovery would be the answer to her prayers.

  “Mr. Craig, you must be excited to return home to Scotland.” She flashed Ewen a flirtatious smile as she finished inspecting his passport.

  Ewen nodded and watched her walk away to process the documentation.

  Great. Perky Natasha Whoever was probably in MacInnes’s pocket, as was everyone else within a twenty-foot radius of the SUV, except her and Ewen. When the woman returned to the car, she handed the documents to MacInnes. He slid the passports deep into his suit jacket with a smile that only confirmed Caitlin’s suspicions.

  She ground her teeth and hid her disappointment.

  “Sir, we will have your bags loaded momentarily.” The agent opened the door. The pilot stood at the edge of the red carpet awaiting their arrival.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you prior to your boarding?” The woman’s eyes lifted to Ewen.

  “That will be all, Natasha. You’ve been your usual capable self.” MacInnes waved the woman away but kept his calculating eyes focused on Caitlin, as if she was data he was about to use to forecast a stock trend.

  The scrutiny gave her the heebie-jeebies. She shifted in her seat and tugged the dress hem to cover as much of her exposed skin as possible. Her toe throbbed in the damn shoes.

  Natasha gave Ewen one final look before turning away. Her bouncy blond hair swung side to side as her slender form sashayed away from the SUV. She stood beside the pilot and turned a friendly smile back their way.

  Daniel exited the SUV first and waited outside the car door. MacInnes straightened the cuffed sleeve poking out from his designer suit, stepped out of the vehicle, and walked ahead with confident strides to shake the pilot’s outstretched hand.

  “Your turn, sweetheart,” Gary said. He had remained behind, obviously to ensure that she, nor Ewen, reneged on their word at the last minute. The bruises on the side of his face had darkened to an ugly purplish shade above his eye.

  Caitlin stared out the opened door.

  “Am I to assume that is no’ an SUV?”

  “Nope, unfortunately, it’s not.”

  “Let’s go,” Gary barked.

  Caitlin forced herself out of the vehicle and walked in a dreamlike trance to where MacInnes waited for her with an outstretched hand.

  “Captain Dunderdale, my niece, Ms. Caitlin Reed.”

  The lie rolled effortlessly from his lips. How many other unsuspecting victims had he manipulated and coerced with that elegant tongue?

  “Ms. Reed.” The pilot’s handshake was firm and polite. “Please accept my condolences on the loss of your mother.”

  “Thank you,” Caitlin managed to mutter. To the pilot, she was a bereaved daughter returning to Scotland to attend her mother’s funeral. Little did he know what he witnessed was an abduction, and the stricken woman whose hand he held was not shivering with grief but fear.

  Her fingers slid against the smooth metal of the railing as MacInnes nudged her up the stairs into the plane. He leaned into her ear. “Well done, Ms. Reed. Well done.”

  Caitlin stumbled into the plane. With his hand at the base of her spine, MacInnes guided her into the cabin. Her skin prickled at his touch, a strange sensation coming over her. She barely noticed the large leather chairs lining each side of the plane or the plush carpeting beneath her feet. Light streamed in from the many oval windows framing the interior walls that were offset by shiny wood veneers.

  MacInnes pushed her farther down the aisle until they reached a white sofa attached to one wall at the back of the plane. Brightly striped pillows adorned its cushions. Across from the couch was another set of leather armchairs that were positioned one across from the other. A table was centered between the two chairs with two bottles of Veen and crystal glasses atop its polished surface. MacInnes directed her to sit and waited for Ewen to join her in the opposite seat.

  Ewen tossed the fluffy blanket draped over the armrest of his chair across the aisle to the couch and sat. Jaw set, he swiveled his head, blue eyes intense, and watched MacInnes move to the front of the plane.

  Gary and Marcus entered last. Daniel pulled the door closed as MacInnes exchanged words with the pilot. The man nodded curtly and disappeared into the cockpit. MacInnes pulled a laptop from his bag, placed it on the table and began tapping away.

  In a matter of minutes, the jet’s engines rumbled beneath their feet. In disbelief, Caitlin stared into the cabin of the luxury jetliner, unable to fathom how an elementary school teacher could find herself the victim of a man like MacInnes. By nightfall, she’d be smuggled into another country, ripped away from all she held dear. “This cannot be happening.”

  Ewen clutched the armrest as the plane taxied down the runway. Twisting his powerful torso toward the oval window, he watched the airstrip disappear, completely riveted by the experience. With his tie loose around his neck, he looked more like an edgy security guard than a fifteenth-century man transported into another century.

  Caitlin rubbed her temple. If she was having trouble dealing with MacInnes and the whole kidnapping scenario, then Ewen had to be struggling with the situation. The poor guy was traveling aboard a luxury jet for the first time in his adult life. She was surprised he wasn’t whacking the walls like a madman and roaring to be set free. But what could she say? None of this was normal, and the plane was the least of their worries.

  “This is an airplane. A machine that flies. It will take us to Scotland.”

  His eyes widened.
>
  Ugh. Really? Had she just told him he was about to fly over the Atlantic Ocean in a metal box without any build-up whatsoever? She’d have him freaking out in no time.

  “People today fly all the time. It really is very safe.”

  “Surely, you jest.” A pocket of turbulence shook the plane. He dug his fingers into the leather chair.

  “No, I’m telling you the truth. This is actually quite smooth. And perfectly normal. I swear.” She raised her right hand to emphasize her words, but he wasn’t buying it. God, the man had lashes a girl would kill for.

  And she was staring. Caitlin broke eye contact. Heat rose to her face as she looked outside. “That weird feeling in your belly will ease once the plane stops climbing.” She glanced back to find him watching her, his dark head angled and his intense eyes focused.

  On her.

  The flush deepened, and suddenly she was the one dealing with weird feelings in her stomach. “Uh, you may want to drink some water.” Hell, she needed water. “It’ll ease the pressure in your ears until we stop climbing and reach cruising speed.”

  He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Climbing?”

  She nodded. “The plane will continue gaining altitude until we’re above the clouds.”

  “The clouds?”

  At his shocked expression, she giggled. The sound surprised her, relieving some of the tension stored in her shoulders. “Once you get over the initial shock, I think you’ll enjoy the view. I promise. It can be quite beautiful, especially once we get closer to landing and you can see the landscape below.”

  Caitlin fiddled with her grandmother’s pendant. Ewen’s eyes were transfixed on the oval glass as the jet soared above the cloud cover. His expression changed from shock to wonder, a man completely awed by the marvels of the twenty-first century.

  “A sea of white rock. ’Tis beautiful.”

  Beautiful was the smile that erupted across his face. Her pulse leapt. With clumsy fingers, she reached for the water, knocked it over, and watched the bottle roll across the table and plop into Ewen’s lap.

  “I’m so sorry.” Mortification didn’t begin to describe her embarrassment.