by Lora Andrews
It was a hell of a lot easier to pretend his feelings weren’t real than to acknowledge the bitter truth—that what he craved was far beyond his reach. But he was a selfish bastard, and with her taste imprinted to his lips, this sweet, modern woman awoke primal parts of him he struggled to contain.
He’d respect her wishes.
For now.
Clenching and unclenching his fist, tension rolled up his arm and tunneled into his shoulder. He re-examined the paltry décor: the raised bed positioned in the center of the room, a wooden chair shoved to one corner, and a writing desk pressed against the wall near the door. No window. Only one way in or out. A room he could easily defend.
Caitlin made a face.
“What?” He jerked his chin at the phone. “Can you not contact your kin?”
“I don’t know yet. The battery is at nine percent and dropping fast because the signal is roaming.”
Roaming? He ground his teeth. Light illuminated the front of the device.
“Dammit, I’m not sure if the international code is one-one-one, or zero-zero-one. Shit. I think it’s zero-one followed by one and the area code.”
His lips twitched. Foul mouthed and beautiful. An irresistible combination.
“The real hurdle,” she muttered more to herself than to him, “is remembering the last four digits of Lila’s number. I’ve used speed dial for every call.” She sucked in a breath and tapped the face of the device, her brows pulling taut with every rap of her fingertip against the blue screen. “Without an international service plan, or a calling card, the surcharges are going to be astronomical. We owe the Murray’s bigtime. And then some.”
More foreign speak. By the saints.
Chewing her thumbnail, she pressed the phone to her ear and glanced in his direction. The look of worry in her eyes squeezed his chest tight.
She jumped. “Oh god, Lila. It’s me. Listen, my parents are in danger. You need to get them somewhere safe. Now.”
The feint echo of a woman’s voice sounded from the phone.
“Have you seen them? Please, tell me they’re okay.” Rooted to the floor in front of the bathroom, Caitlin’s breathing accelerated as she listened to the words being spoken. Grimacing, she glanced at the screen, then ran to the opposite side of the bed. “Can you hear me?”
Ewen leaned against the wall, his eyes tracking her every move.
“What? My parents are where?”
Silence.
“Where are they?” Caitlin screamed. “Dammit, Lila answer me.” She strained to hear, then blanched. “Oh god, the police? No, I’m—”
Her gaze skittered across the room then clashed with his. “I’m okay. For now. Call Jimmie. Have him get someone to—”
The phone went dark.
“—my parent’s house.” Caitlin tapped her finger at the bottom of the phone, tears filling her eyes. “Lila! No. Lila! No, no, no, no! Another minute. All I need is another minute. God, please.”
The now defunct phone shook in her trembling hands.
Ewen lost the battle to keep his distance. He came from behind her and wrapped his arms around her body, drawing her into the breadth of his chest.
“I swear to god, if MacInnes…if he…if they’re…”
He held her still and lowered his mouth to her ear. “Shh, Caitlin. Don’t say the words.” If she believed her parents dead, she’d crumble. She’d lose her drive to survive, and he’d be damned if he let her give up.
She wriggled out of his embrace. “All I needed was another minute.” The tears she’d valiantly held back broke through. She whirled to face him. Pain clawed her bewitching features into a mask of disbelief. “Lila said something about a fire and the New Hampshire police. My parents have a cabin there.”
Had someone set the house ablaze as a threat, or to ferret out her kin? Ewen wouldn’t put it past MacInnes, but if her parents had been injured in the fire, the urgency of their task increased tenfold.
“She said they’re missing, Ewen. She doesn’t know where they are.” Caitlin choked back a sob. “But I know who does.”
Daniel.
In her heightened state of panic, there was no telling how she would react in a confrontation with the guard. He snagged Caitlin’s wrist and pulled her from the door. “Wait. Hear me out, lass. Sympathizer or no, if Daniel catches whiff you’ve found the stone, he’ll report his findings to MacInnes.”
It didn’t take a scholar to guess what the bastard held over the guard’s head. The loss of family was a great motivator, one that forced even the noblest of men to carry out the vilest of atrocities. He should know.
“Let go of me,” she warned.
“Do not assume the worst. No’ yet. As much of a bastard as MacInnes may be, he wouldna jeopardize decades worth of scheming on a whim.” The man was methodical, each move carefully orchestrated to bear him the greatest reward while inflicting pain on any who opposed him.
Ewen released her wrist and inched closer. Cradling her face with his hands, he lowered himself until they were eye level and wiped salty tears from her cheeks. Her red-rimmed eyes bore into his, and he wished to god he could set everything right.
“He’s moved your family, most likely to a location he controls so he can hold them while you do his bidding. He needs them alive, Caitlin. Killing your kin before you’ve procured the stone buys him naught. And charging after Daniel when the man has clearly broken protocol to aid you will not win you the support of a potential ally.”
He prayed the words he spoke were true. For her sake.
She huffed a breath and slid his hands from her face. “Daniel knows where they are. They might be hurt or worried sick about me. I need to know they’re okay, and I can do that without jeopardizing the stone.”
“Can you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I most certainly can. I know what you’re thinking. I can feel it, remember?”
He flinched. That damn talent of hers would be both a curse and a blessing.
“So let’s get one thing straight. Women today are strong, equal to men in every facet of our lives. I don’t want you to coddle or protect me from the truth. I can’t guarantee how I’ll react. Sometimes I shut down, sometimes I don’t, but I have every right to process my feelings however I see fit, which may or may not include tears. It doesn’t mean I’m about to fall apart. Are we clear?”
She wiped a wet cheek with the back of her wrist.
He bit back a smile. Mari would love her. “My apologies then.”
Caitlin grunted out a “hmm” that would put any laird to shame. The woman aroused him beyond sanity. He cleared his throat and drove the discussion back to the matter at hand. “Forget Daniel. It’s clear the man made a promise he canna fulfill. You have the advantage now. You have the stone and information about your parents, albeit not the news you desired, but enough to ascertain if MacInnes speaks false in regards to your kin.”
She sidestepped him and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to demand proof as soon as I see the asshole. I’m not going to settle for anything less than hearing my parents’ voices. I want to know they’re alive.” Her voice cracked at the last word.
And if they weren’t, by god he’d avenge their deaths. “Aye, but remember to guard your emotions, for if he senses you know more than you should, there’s no telling how the man will react.”
“I know, and for what it’s worth, you were right,” she admitted. “I panicked, and I probably would have made a huge scene in the hallway. Thank you for grounding me.”
“Perhaps a wee boon”—he tapped his cheek—“as gratitude for my heroic efforts in salvaging your honor.” He winked and took four steps forward, bowing low in a reverence fit for the king of Scotland.
“Oh, get out of here,” she said with a playful shove of his shoulder.
Ewen chuckled. “Where would you have me go, lass? The hall?”
“Scoundrel. You’re too much, Ewen MacLean.”
When he acknowledged the insult
with a tip of his head, Caitlin’s smile lit up the room. The tension eased from his shoulders.
“Hey, we still haven’t talked about how we’re going to handle turning over the stone to MacInnes. I have some serious misgivings.”
Christ, she had misgivings? He had yet to come to terms with the magic he’d witnessed.
Caitlin chewed the corner of her mouth before looking away. “Something happened at the ruins. God…” Her eyes glazed over as if the thought of all they had experienced in Kilfinan was too much to bear.
The fall.
The magic.
The attack.
Running her teeth along the edge of her bottom lip, he had the distinct impression she was carefully considering words she feared speaking aloud. What would give her pause?
“I felt something when I touched the stone, a weird connection that had nothing to do with seeing my name written in the MacEwen journal.”
He swallowed. “A connection?”
“Yeah, like a knowing, a bone-deep, instinctive urge to protect the stone at all costs. I can’t explain the feeling because I don’t fully understand it myself. All I know is that giving MacInnes the stone runs counter to that instinct.”
Which put her at odds when the time came to make the exchange with the man.
The outline of the pendant hidden beneath her shirt drew his gaze. The same pendant had graced the neck of each MacEwen guardian for a millennium or more before it touched Caitlin’s skin. He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“You didn’t feel this urge when you gave me the stone to safeguard?”
“Well, not to the same degree. I knew you’d protect it with your life. We should see if it works before we lose our chance.”
Ewen shook his head. There’d be no going back for him.
“Come on, Ewen.“ She held out her hand and gestured to his pocket. “We should at least give it a shot.”
“And what would you suggest, lass?” he teased. “We close our eyes and pray to the goddess? Perhaps dance naked beneath the Harvest Moon?”
“No.” She laughed. “I honestly don’t know, but you deserve the chance to go home, to be reunited with the life you left behind. I know you miss your family terribly. I see it in your eyes every day that passes.”
Pride and sadness vied for a place in his heart. He gave her a weak smile. “Think you if it were that simple your seanmhair would have chosen to remain here instead of returning to her time? She would no’ leave her kin, or the support of the Lamont’s, her husband’s clan, to remain here without cause. If your grandmother could have returned to her time, she would have. Travel with the stone requires a ritual, one we do not possess.” He shushed her before she could argue. “MacInnes said as much, and in this, I believe he speaks true.”
She reached out and touched the side of his face. “You don’t believe you’ll ever see your home again. Right from the very beginning, you knew.” Caitlin yanked her hand as if stung. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you. That—”
He squeezed her hand in his and let her feel his sorrow.
Her eyes teared.
“I am not a man who holds hope in his heart. And yes, I mourn the loss of my kin.”
“Ewen, I swear to you, I don’t know how, but we’re going to find this ritual. We still have time. We have a week until Samhain. Think about it. With the ritual in our hands, we control the stone. I can send you back home, save my parents, and possibly find a way to keep the stone from falling into MacInnes’s hands. We need the journal.”
Caitlin eyed him with a fierceness that sparked hope in his heart. “We need to get back to the ruins. Tonight.”
TWENTY-NINE
“Of course, we’ll have to get around the Order.”
Caitlin snagged the mass of tangled locks hanging from her head and twisted the ends with her fingers while Ewen listened patiently. Okay, maybe patiently wasn’t the right word. He had the grin-and-bear-it look of a man trudging through the annoyingly long menu of an interactive voice response system after being disconnected.
Twice.
“It won’t be easy, I know.” The ruins were probably crawling with gold-banded guards by now. Or the press. They’d left a freaking whole in the ground. Shoot, it was worse than that. A secret, pre-fifteenth-century underground room would generate headlines. National and International headlines. It would be all over social media in no time.
She pulled what was left of her thumbnail from her mouth. The free edge was down to the pink nailbed. MacInnes was going to have a bird. On the bright side, he’d be hard pressed to get her back there ASAP so she could feel something. Jerk. However, with his money and pull, navigating the hype and added security at the ruins would be a breeze.
What exactly would Daniel tell him? He hadn’t been underground when the magical symbols lit up the wall. But he did see her walk through a slab of stone. Crud. And he’d witnessed the book snap out of her clutches and disappear through said stone slab.
Double crud.
Ewen stroked her hand. “You wear every emotion on your beautiful face. Worry not. Daniel didn’t see much.”
“I’m that transparent?”
He smiled. “Aye, ye are. I’ve a suspicion the man may not repeat all he witnessed to MacInnes. He was attacked by men purported to serve MacInnes’s benefactor. I sense internal strife or a failed coup. The distraction will benefit us. But no matter. You will no’ be facing MacInnes. Not about this.” His brogue thickened, and he went from sexy highlander to scary warrior chief in under a second. “MacInnes will answer to me, and me alone.”
Okie-dokie. She’d pick her battles and let the he-man statement slide until he had cooled off.
“Now, go bathe while I prepare a pallet on the floor,” he ordered.
“Wait, I thought you decided to room with Daniel?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye, but I’ve changed my mind.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t sure she could handle sharing a bed with Ewen, but with the Order loose, she liked knowing he was close. For safety purposes, of course. “Fine, then I won’t be long. You can jump in when I’m through.”
The thought of a wet and naked Ewen showering in the tiny room two feet away from her bed flushed her skin hot. She rushed into the bath and closed the door before she did something stupid. Like suggest they conserve water.
Ugh. So much for her hands-off, let’s-not-screw-this-up motto.
It was going to be a long night.
THE NIGHTMARE started the same as every other. Alone in the woods, running barefoot across a thick, tangled forest floor with her heart pounding in her chest and her ragged breath echoing in her ears. She slowed and came to a full stop. Spinning on her heel, she assessed the scene as she made a full revolution. No screeching. No talons gripping her shoulders.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Something was off. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the dream had changed. She frowned and threw herself behind a tree.
Was this a lucid dream? “Then why the hell didn’t I chose an exotic locale? Like a beach in Hawaii with a bare-chested highlander who makes my heart race?” God, she was even muttering to herself in her quasi nightmare state.
Some things would never change.
Rustling from behind the tree froze her to the spot. She shoved her back against the bark. It’d been too good to be true. Panic clawed up her chest. She darted from the tree and raced across the field.
Footsteps pounded behind her. Getting closer. Closing the distance. Caitlin pumped her arms, forcing her body to move at speeds she only ran in her nightmare.
A hand gripped her arm and yanked her back.
“No,” Caitlin screamed. She swung her fists wildly at her attacker, eyes shut. She didn’t want to open her eyes. She knew what she’d see on the other side. Merciless, inhuman eyes regarding her like meat on a stick.
“Easy lass, it is I,” said a familiar, masculine voice.
She opened her eyes.
What the heck?
“Ewen?” Bracing her hands on her knees, Caitlin fought for breath. “Well this is a first.”
“What is this place?” he asked. “Where are we?”
“It’s not Hawaii.” He wore the same long sleeved black T-shirt, ripped at the sleeves from the altercation with Cordelia’s guards. She glanced down. She was in the same dirty clothes as well. That wouldn’t do. She closed her eyes and tried to force a change of clothes. Board shorts for him and something sexy for her.
When she opened her eyes, Dream Ewen was scowling. The torn shirt stretched precariously over his flexing biceps. Maybe she had to physically remove his clothing. That could be fun.
Ewen slapped her hands away. “Caitlin, listen to me.”
“Hey…you’re overdressed.” And grumpy.
“I’m overdressed?” He frowned then looked at her like she’d stepped in dog poo. Instead of flirty Ewen, she’d dragged the serious war chief into her nightmare. Figured she’d suck at lucid dreaming. She sighed and turned around to make her way back to the part of the woods she recognized.
Dream Ewen grabbed her wrist. “Have ye knowledge of this place?” He scanned the perimeter, his stance wary and ready for action.
Ignoring his question, Caitlin pulled her wrist from his grip and trudged through the thick brush. Rocks and sharp branches normally hid beneath the ferns and the green vegetation carpeting the damp earth, and she was careful with her footing to avoid stabbing her bare feet.
Wait…she didn’t feel anything. That was odd.
“God’s teeth, Caitlin. Stop this nonsense and turn around.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. She should have paid more attention in Dream Interpretation 101. “Okay, Dream Ewen, to answer your question, I don’t physically know where this place is, but yes, I have been here before. In my nightmares. Translation, bad dreams.”
“This is no dream.”
“God, maybe this is a result of all the crap that happened today.” She jumped over a huge rock on the ground. “Seeing magic, real magic, not just the glowing light stuff that’s been happening lately, probably triggered some strange adaptation of my normal nightmare. I just need to wait this out until I wake up.”
