Time Bound

by Lora Andrews

  Ewen sat back on his hunches, his face grim. “You collapsed.”

  “I collapsed?” Her temples pulsed with each word. “How long have I been out?”

  “Long enough,” he said.

  Typically, that answer would drive her bonkers, especially when what she wanted was a specific answer. She had no memory of passing out. The last thing she remembered was standing in MacInnes’s office, feeling hot and dizzy.

  Marcus appeared at the doorway, several feet behind Ewen.

  Her belly heaved. All her life, her friends had envied her composition. Spicy foods. Crazy rollercoasters. The occasional bender. Now, her insides roiled in an endless loop, morning to night.

  She had MacInnes to thank for that.

  “Mr. Hans said you refused breakfast,” Marissa said.

  “Mr. Hans? Oh, the butler in the dining room? Yeah, I”—she met Ewen’s fixed stare—“I lost my appetite.”

  The frown on Ewen’s face chilled the air.

  “Well then, that’s all it is,” Marissa said with a decided nod, avoiding Ewen’s darkened scowl. “Come now, there’s a fine Scottish breakfast awaiting you.”

  The mention of that fine Scottish breakfast had her gut bubbling in protest.

  “I’ll make you my gram’s special tea,” Marissa added. “It will help settle your tummy, aye?”

  Was she implying the fainting spell was a result of her gift?

  Marissa brushed loose strands of brown hair off her face. “Mr. MacLean, I’ve no right to ask this of you, but would you be kind enough to inform Mr. Hans of our plans. He’ll be madder than a Highland midge if we catch him unawares. A wee bit of warning will go far with that one.”

  “Please,” Caitlin added sweetly when Ewen hesitated.

  His frown melted. “I’ll go, but we’ve much to discuss, you and I.”

  Crap. That was exactly what she didn’t want to hear.

  He angled his head, his piercing eyes searching her face. She was a lousy liar. Caitlin bit her lip. Ewen wouldn’t buy her “hot and dizzy” explanation, and she wasn’t sure he was ready for the truth. Heck, she wasn’t sure she was ready for the truth.

  Despite the modern clothing he wore, underneath he was still the medieval man who had accused her of summoning dark magic. Now she had a mystical pendant causing strange lights to emit from her fingertips. She was having visions, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she could access his memories. Pretty witchy stuff to her normal twenty-first-century mentality, and to a man from another century, any confession would fit right in line with his earlier assessment.

  Witch.

  As much as she wanted to trust him, she couldn’t take the chance the truth would alienate him. Not now when there was so much at stake. She needed Ewen MacLean by her side, but could she sacrifice her integrity in the process?

  Caitlin looked away and heard his sigh as he rose and left the room. Marcus followed him down the hallway leading to the kitchen.

  “Did you touch MacInnes?” Marissa asked in a hushed tone. She sat on the chaise by Caitlin’s legs. “Did you have a vision?”

  “No.” She’d rather have a root canal than touch Simon MacInnes. “I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t in the room long before I started feeling…off.”

  “Off?” Marissa’s facial expression turned pensive. “What do you mean by off?”

  “I just felt weird. At first, the sensations were subtle. I felt hot. Then my skin began to prickle to an uncomfortable level. My equilibrium must have been out of whack because I swear I felt the floor shake beneath my feet. I don’t remember much after that.”

  Marissa rose from the chaise and paced several short steps back and forth in front of Caitlin. “Aye, I’ve heard of similar symptoms in others, however, not to the degree you’ve described. I wonder if you’re a sensor as well then.” Her “well” sounded like “weel.”

  “A what?”

  “There are some that can sense objects that hold magical power.” Her eyes widened, and she bit her thumb. “It would make sense, no? Given who you’re dealing with, the man could have such an object in his possession.”

  The Refiçío.

  She had reacted strangely to its presence at the warehouse. Of course, she’d also been tied to a chair and had been dead certain she and Ewen were about to be executed when Simon MacInnes had revealed the stone. Anyone finding themselves in those circumstances would react strangely.

  Right?

  “Yes,” Marissa said with a nod. “It makes sense. And once you placed some distance between yourself and the artifact, the feelings subsided, did it not? I wonder—”

  “No.” Caitlin didn’t want to hear anymore. “I am not going back in there to test out your theory. I am not a whatever it is you just said.”

  “A sensor.”

  “Whatever.” I am not a sensor. There was a logical explanation for what happened to her in that office. One that didn’t include another “gift” she had no desire to have.

  There had to be.

  But something told her otherwise.

  “Come, then. I’ll help you up. I’ve shielded my thoughts.” Marissa paused. “Did you no’ feel his when he held you?”

  Caitlin lifted herself off the chaise. “Ewen?” Her cheeks heated, and she took several unsteady steps to the door. “Um, I did but…it was strange. His emotions soothed the fire. Even in the room, his voice helped dampen the sensation.”

  Caitlin didn’t want to think about what that could mean. Apparently, neither did Marissa, who wisely kept her thoughts to herself. One thing was certain, she had to be careful around Ewen MacLean. Her ability was a dangerous talent to have around a man like him. The more she saw, the more she liked. And she had no business liking him.

  When they entered the dining room, Caitlin shoved her turbulent thoughts into a box containing everything she didn’t want to think about and settled into her seat. Breakfast was an uneventful but tense affair with MacInnes and Ewen breathing the same artic air. Caitlin guzzled super sweet tea that made her cavity-free teeth cringe and picked at her eggs, all while avoiding the rattling sound of the thoughts that refused to be quietly stowed away.

  Before they left the manor, Marissa scooped scones, muffins, and biscuits— enough to feed a small army—into a bag and shoved it into Caitlin’s hands along with a thermos of coffee that was sure to hold plenty of sugar and cream.

  Caitlin hugged her. “Thank you, Marissa. You’re a lifesaver.”

  A blush crept up the young woman’s cheeks. She waved them off at the door.

  With a bagful of sugar in one hand, coffee in her other, an annoyingly handsome god at her back, and the devil behind them, Caitlin’s day could only roll one way.

  Downhill.

  MACEWEN CASTLE was a bust.

  The weather was overcast that morning with temperatures in the mid-fifties. A typical October morning she’d been told by the energetic clerk behind the desk at the Kilfinan Inn where they’d stopped to grab the map that would lead them to the castle.

  She could take the weather. It was the overall mood of the group that irked her. It followed her like a dark cloud as they hiked in a semi-organized fashion through ditches and streams that nearly sucked off her boots. They hoisted themselves over stone walls and stiles to finally reach the beach that would lead them to the castle ruins.

  A metal gate and a weather-battered sign carved with the MacEwen name had spurred the team ahead on what would be a futile search. The site had been used as a training dig in the late sixties. Excavated artifacts had become part of an exhibit open to the public at the Glasgow Art Gallery and Museum. She’d toured the exhibit herself, so why would MacInnes bring them back to the ruins to start the search for the stone?

  What was she missing?

  Shaking away the thought, she led the pack with the map clutched in her hand, acutely aware of the hunky warrior’s presence behind her. MacInnes, Gary, and Daniel followed at a healthy distance, faces grim. She was beginning to think t
he dark facial expressions were all part of MacInnes’s standard uniform. Black suit, check. Dark scowl, double check.

  Eyes focused ahead, the men tackled the hike without a shift in their breathing, postures held loose but ready for action. Yeah, they weren’t concerned about a possible escape attempt.

  Not. One. Bit.

  And why would they? She had the loch to her left and rocky fields to her right. Only a fool would attempt to outrun military trained bad guys on foreign turf. It was tempting, though. She was fast, and if she could get to a phone, all she needed was enough time to make one call. Lila would pick up on the first ring. But with her luck, she’d sprain an ankle and go down in the books as the easiest capture of all time.

  Ewen moved beside her when the path narrowed. He assessed the landscape as they climbed toward the MacEwen ruins. Tight lines had formed around his sexy mouth. He had adapted so effortlessly, moving from one situation to the next with the grace of a prize-winning fighter, that at times she forgot he had been transplanted nearly six hundred years into the future.

  She couldn’t imagine having her whole world wrenched away in the blink of an eye. Sure, her situation wasn’t exactly ideal, but she was familiar with the time and its people. She had an understanding of how things worked in this century. There was comfort in that knowledge. And hope. He was forced to traverse lands that were so achingly familiar yet so different from what he called home.

  A sudden pinch of sympathy twisted inside her. There was nothing she could say to comfort him because there was no silver lining. No alternatives. Just the one outcome hinging on the retrieval of a magic stone she wasn’t sure existed. And if it did, there was no guarantee the stone could return him to his time.

  A frown squeezed the familiar vee between his brows.

  “Are you okay?”

  He leveled her with his signature I-can-see-through-you look with eyes that were an arresting shade of a sparkling blue beneath the Scottish sky.

  Butterflies shot to her stomach.

  “Aye, I am. And you? Is your health restored, lass?”

  His deep voice roused the damned insects to flutter madly in her gut.

  “Yep. I’m feeling like myself again.” Liar. She felt like a fifteen-year-old girl in the throes of her first crush. She was a grown woman, for chrissake. A divorcee. She had experience with men, so why was she letting Ewen MacLean get under her skin?

  She kicked an errant stone from the path and watched it roll onto the field. Strands of her hair stuck to her face. She brushed them off, wishing she had a hair tie to ball up her hair. Okay, breathe. Change your thoughts, change your mind, and act normal.

  “This must be so different from what you remember,” she said.

  Ewen nodded at the bleating sheep in the field. “Aye, well those are larger.” A smirk played on his lips. “Your time is noisier, the air warmer, and the smells…are strange.” His face hardened. “Then I glance to the loch, and the two worlds converge into one.”

  The words “I’m sorry” suddenly felt empty on her lips.

  “On several occasions, the man has insinuated you and you alone have the ability to locate his stone. Why?”

  Caught off guard, she stumbled. “He told you that?”

  “Aye, he did.”

  Crap. What else did MacInnes say?

  “Have you an explanation?”

  “For why MacInnes would think that?” she asked.

  “Is that not what I asked?”

  Caitlin shrugged. “No, I don’t know why he would.” She didn’t, so technically her “no” wasn’t a lie. Not exactly.

  “Ah.”

  They fell silent.

  The not-a-lie balled in her throat. She had taken every precaution to hide her gift from both MacInnes and Ewen. Withholding the truth from MacInnes didn’t bother her, but keeping it from Ewen went against everything she believed. It didn’t take a survival expert to know her odds of surviving depended greatly on having an ally by her side. Lying to him was a calculated risk, one she wasn’t sure she could afford to take, because if Ewen discovered her truth, then the fragile trust growing between them would be irrevocably damaged.

  She glanced over her shoulder. MacInnes and the guards maintained a comfortable distance behind them. Keeping up with Ewen’s long strides with a near jog of her own, she navigated the slippery boulders along the loch shore. Cool air stung her lungs. The hike was making up for her missed runs.

  Too bad the exertion didn’t stop her from thinking about the brooding highlander at her side. The wind blew his dark, blue-black hair, teasing her with a whiff of his clean scent. He smelled good. Really good. The cavewoman part of her brain took notice and bombed her system with a flood of endorphins. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way. The men she’d dated after Brian were attractive, but none of them affected her the way Ewen MacLean could with a single glance. Not even her ex.

  God, what did that say about her marriage?

  They came upon a small ledge. Ewen gripped her waist and propelled her over the lip. Energy singed the areas where their bodies touched. One look into those blazing eyes told her he’d felt the spark, and he was none too happy about it.

  Not one bit.

  She hoisted herself up and brushed the dirt from her jacket. She was drawn to the emotions she’d felt during their brief exchange. Dark and stormy emotions that penetrated her flimsy barriers and tugged at her curiosity, an impulse she quickly throttled. Lying to protect herself was one thing, but intruding on someone’s thoughts was another and completely out of the question. No matter how tempting.

  She shoved his energy away with the same gusto she used to stomp her renegade feelings, and lucky for her, the terrain changed. The rocky uphill climb turned bumpy and forced her to pay attention to the path, or else twist an ankle. Once they reached the castle grounds, Ewen’s gaze settled on the MacEwen cairn then moved to the stone remains of MacEwen Castle scattered along the grassy earth.

  The gorgeous view of Loch Fyne surrounded them. It settled her mind. A shame it couldn’t obliterate MacInnes’s presence from her radar altogether. His stare burned a hole in her back. Out of habit, she sought the security of the pendant, but recovered in time, lowering her hand, as she quickly glanced over her shoulder to ensure no one had noticed. The metal warmed against her skin and fueled a compulsion to peek down her shirt and check for an otherworldly glow beaming from its center.

  She bit her lip and trained her attention on the loch as MacInnes and his men walked the ruins behind her. She could not betray herself to MacInnes—not when something deep inside her whispered the pendant must never fall into his hands.

  “Are you cold?”

  Caitlin jumped at the sound of Ewen’s voice. “God, you scared me.” She raised her eyes to his face then looked out to the gold and red foliage reflected on the water’s surface “No. I’m a New Englander, remember? It’s probably about forty degrees back home. A good sweatshirt, and I’m good to go.”

  The winds were stronger in Scotland, though. They drove the cold beneath the flapping folds of her jacket. A cold she didn’t mind. It helped her focus. Drove her attention away from the contemplative look splayed across Ewen’s features. The chilly breeze didn’t seem to bother him any.

  “The stone’s power plays a central part in MacInnes’s stratagem. I’m to keep you on the path toward its discovery.”

  He spoke the words so calmly it took Caitlin a moment to register what he’d said. “You’re working for MacInnes to keep me in line? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Easy, lass, or you’ll rouse the man’s suspicions. Even now he watches. Come, walk with me.” He offered her his arm and waited for her to accept the invitation.

  Caitlin stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and moved ahead. “What do you mean by ‘keep me on my path?’”

  “The ritual canna be performed without the Tempus Stone.” He followed beside her, his long, confident strides easily maintaining the pace
she’d set. “We’ve nine days until Samhain to procure it. I’m to ensure you’re actively seeking the stone.”

  Ewen angled his head toward her, and it was Caitlin’s turn to stare back.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Do you know of this magic? Does it originate here among the rubble of your people?”

  “I have no idea.” She ignored the intensity of his stare. “So MacInnes needs the stone to perform some ritual and he wants you to spy on me? Is that what I walked in on? Back at the manor? You and MacInnes collaborating behind my back?”

  Ewen stopped and faced the loch. “I make no allegiance to Simon MacInnes. Can I say the same for you?”

  The wind snapped a chill up her spine. She shoved her hair behind her ears. “We don’t have to be on opposite sides of the coin, Ewen. My allegiance is to my family, first and foremost. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them and get back to my life, but I can help you return to yours. Is that good enough for you?”

  He considered her, long and hard, then shoved his hands into his pant pockets. “Aye, it is. Have I your word then? Do you swear fealty to our mutual cause?”

  “To find this stone before MacInnes can get his hands on it and set off some unknown ritual? Yes.” She’d just have to figure out how to do that and protect her parents at the same time.

  “On my faith, you’ve my promise to honor our accord.”

  Caitlin half-expected lightning to streak across the sky to seal this bargain made between two souls, from two different centuries, vowed upon the promontory of an ancient castle overlooking Loch Fyne.

  Ewen kept his hands in his pockets and looked hard over the loch’s expanse. “On the battlefield, allies join forces, sharing both resources and knowledge with one another to achieve their collective goal. Without trust, suspicion breeds betrayal, and the alliance becomes a hindrance instead of a strength.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and fisted each to his waist. “Do you understand me, lass?”

  Oh crap. “Yes. No secrets.” But she wasn’t sure she could comply. Not yet.

  “Ask what you will of me, then.”

  Seriously?