Highland Tryst

by Eliza Knight

  “I told ye…magic.”

  He watched her take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “I think we’d better get inside for that cup of java. My brain is falling asleep,” she said.

  Fin watched her exit the car, utterly baffled at her use of language.

  “Where in the bloody hell did ye send me, Gordana?” he muttered.

  Fin poked and prodded at the door, elbowed the thick glass, but still nothing. He couldn’t figure out how to get out of the car. From his view through the glass, he watched Kari turn around, laugh, and then come back. She opened the door for him and then pointed to a short bar.

  “Pull this out.” She showed him. “And then push the door, and it will open.”

  He made her close the door, so he could try her instructions, and was pleasantly surprised when it worked.

  They walked into the little odd tavern, where Kari exchanged green paper with a woman who then handed him a tunic.

  “Shirts needed, sir,” the woman said.

  How odd. Fin nodded and pulled the garment over his head before following his angel to the back corner and a peculiar table-like contraption. The surface was made of a sickly yellow, shiny material. The bench was not what he was used to—he could lean back on it. But the build of it looked weak, and he expected it to collapse beneath him at any moment. As a result, he seldom shifted, and his muscles grew stiff from sitting so still.

  “The bench won’t break, Fin. You can relax. I think it’s built to hold something like five people.”

  His eyes widened. “Impossible,” he muttered, but Kari only laughed at him.

  The waitress brought them a black liquid into which Kari poured milk and a white powder she said was sugar—a spice he’d heard of but never seen before. Honey was what they used to sweeten beverages if they so chose, which he rarely did. Kari swirled the coffee around with a spoon, and when he sipped the hot drink, he was pleasantly surprised at the flavor. He had expected it to taste quite horrid.

  The waitress set down two pieces of a tart filled with apples and then walked away, finally leaving them in peace.

  “Tell me what happened to you. What is the last thing you remember?”

  Fin picked up the tart and took a bite, letting the delicious confection roll around on his tongue while he decided where to start his story. “There was a siege upon my castle, my lands, my village, my people.”

  “A siege?” Kari asked, sipping her coffee slowly.

  “Aye. The Douglas had been threatening to take back his lands for a while, but I did not believe him. I should have. He took mercy on no one—even the women and children. He killed them all. We were outnumbered. I could not save anyone.”

  “So, you’re telling me, this man, Douglas, killed everyone in your town? Your entire family?”

  “Aye, he and his retainers.”

  Kari stuck a pronged metal instrument in her tart and cut off a bite but did not eat it. “Does anyone know about this? The authorities?”

  “The Douglas is the authority. Closer to King Alexander II than any of the other Highland lairds. What is that?” He pointed to the instrument.

  She raised a brow. “A fork. Who is King Alexander? Fin, I’m not an expert in Scottish monarchy, but I do know there is no King Alexander at present.”

  Why would she deny him? Call him false?

  Fin frowned, trying to quell the frustration that bubbled up inside him. “Lass, ye asked me to tell ye what I remember, and I am doing so. For ye to call me out as a weaver of tales is highly offensive. Men have lost their lives for lesser things.”

  Kari put a bite of pie in her mouth, inclined her head in apology, but did not say anything.

  He took it as his cue to continue. “I was mortally wounded, but instead of finishing me off, Gordana—the town healer—stopped the Douglas and placed a spell on me. The next thing I know, I am here, in Ocean Valley, with ye.”

  Kari put her fork down and wiped her mouth with her a thin, paper-like cloth. “What year were you born?” she asked, her voice sounding hollow on his ears like she was trying to hide her emotions.

  “The year of our Lord, 1215.”

  She stared at him for a span of at least thirty seconds. “1215, you say. Hmm. What year do you think it is?”

  “1243.”

  “It’s currently 2019.”

  Fin coughed, and a large piece of tart lodged in his throat. He coughed some more and then began to choke in earnest. Ah, here it was at last, the death blow he’d been waiting for. Purgatory, indeed.

  Kari jumped up and ran around the back of his bench and placed her arms around him. Her hands fisted on his belly, one on top of the other, squeezing hard over and over, as she pumped into his middle. She shouted something, but he was fading. No air came in; no air came out. And then he felt it—with one more forceful press of her fists, the chunk of apple came flying out of his mouth to land with a resounding plop in his coffee.

  Blessed angel… He gulped in his breath, his hands shakily coming to his throat. Kari knelt next to him, her eyes wide, her soft, yet so capable, hand on his forearm.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, staring into her wide eyes. “How did ye do that?”

  “It’s called the Heimlich maneuver. You were choking.”

  “Ye saved me,” he said with wonder. He could recall at least a dozen times where he’d witnessed someone choking and only a few times where they were saved, and not as efficiently as Kari had done so. “Where did ye learn to do that?”

  “I’m a nurse. It’s my job.”

  “Nurse?” He wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “I take care of people who are sick. Help them get better if I can.”

  “Ye mean ye do this daily? Like a healer?”

  She smiled sweetly even though her eyes showed trepidation, and her hands trembled. “Yes.” By now a crowd had gathered around them, staring and whispering. “Let’s get out of here. I think I know a place better suited for us.”

  4

  After about twenty minutes riding in the car—in which Fin closed his eyes to keep from being sick as the whizzing of so many metal boxes and the speed at which they traveled made him sick to his stomach—they pulled into a large complex of red stone buildings.

  “This is the local university. They have a fabulous library here.”

  Fin studied the small village teeming with people—most dressed like the demon lad he’d met at the beach. He had no idea what a university was, but a library, now that had to mean books. “What do you hope to find in the library?”

  “Answers.”

  They exited the car and walked along a path toward one of the buildings. Without thinking, Fin tucked Kari’s hand around his elbow. He liked the feel of her, the heat of her skin on his. Their encounter on the beach came back to him vividly, and blood pumped rapidly through his body, going straight to his loins. He swallowed hard and willed his cock to deflate, without much success.

  They were on a mission, an intelligence seeking one at that, and he needed to control the response of his baser needs and focus.

  Fin still wasn’t sure how the library was supposed to give them answers as to how he had arrived nearly eight hundred years in the future. And from the way Kari described it, he wasn’t even on the same continent as Scotland. How had Gordana managed to transcend time and space? It truly was magic and beyond his wildest imaginings.

  Perhaps Fate had something to do with it. Maybe he was meant for something bigger, and destiny did not see fit for his death to be at the end of a sword. And yet, how could Fate believe his people deserved to die?

  A small thought started to tickle at the back of his brain. The idea was unimaginable, and yet, here he was, nearly eight hundred years in the future. Was it conceivable that this place was not hell but another time altogether? That was the only logical explanation he could come up with, for truly, his situation was anything but logical. ’Twas unreasonable. Unheard of. If he weren’t certain that
he was awake, he would think he had already passed to the afterlife, or that all of what he remembered had been a terrible nightmare.

  Unfortunately, while his wounds had healed on the outside, he still bore the ache of the fatal slashes of several swords beneath his flesh. Beyond the physical, his mind would never heal from the pain of losing everyone he loved, from seeing them die before his eyes, and being helpless to do anything about it.

  Kari leaned in closer, her scent once more permeating his senses. “Just follow my lead if anyone asks questions. I went to school here, but it was a while ago. Most likely, no one will stop us, but just in case…”

  He nodded and smiled down at her, feeling conspiratorial. “Anything the lass wishes.”

  She nudged him with her elbow but laughed anyway.

  Walking into the building appeared to be easier than his lovely guide envisioned, and soon he found himself in the most wonderful place he’d ever seen. Rows and rows of shelves, hundreds of thousands of books. Truly incredible. This university, as she called it, must have been funded by very wealthy benefactors. Books were incredibly expensive, the knowledge they contained a priceless currency.

  “Are all the books of the United States in this building?” he asked with wonder, stroking his fingers over leather and canvas spines.

  “No, silly. Don’t you have libraries where you come from?”

  He met her gaze, momentarily speechless as he stared into the depths of her bright green eyes. They twinkled, teased, promised.

  He shook his head. “Maybe fifty or so, one hundred if you’re lucky, but even that is quite extensive. Most people do not read at all, and those who do, read the scriptures only.”

  “Right, sorry, I’d forgotten about that.” She tapped her chin and looked up and down the rows. “Let’s find the section on Scottish history.”

  “And a map? I would like to see our location.”

  “Yes, of course! Let’s find a map first.”

  She gripped his hand in hers, and he couldn’t help but notice how much more delicate she was than him, but also incredible strong. Her grip left no resistance, and the way she’d pounded his stomach when she’d saved his life was proof if anything that she was a warrior in her own right. More than physical strength, he sensed there was a force about her mind too. Kari was a woman who knew what she wanted and didn’t hesitate to get it.

  A perfect mate for him.

  Fin shook his head. How could he be thinking about mates? He didn’t even know where the hell he was or what his future held. There was no way he should be thinking about dragging this fascinating creature along with him.

  They weaved their way through various shelved corridors. The number of books astounding. His thoughts were interrupted by the magnificent view in front of him, a ball with a map on it—and by the lithe figure of Kari leaning over it. He had to admit that the strange loose, green hose and tunic she wore hugged her arse like no other when in that position. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, wishing he could bend down and kiss the rounded curve of her hip, massage her well-formed bottom.

  And then she caught him. She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes darkening with desire at his stare. She licked her lower lip but didn’t move, letting him continue.

  Their surroundings fading to the background, he stepped forward. Still she didn’t move. Taking that as permission to continue, Fin reached out and drew a finger down the side of her hip, under the globe of one arse cheek, then palmed her buttocks as he leaned in and placed his lips on hers. She slid easily into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck, her tongue teasing his lips until he opened his mouth and sucked her tongue inside.

  Fin wanted this woman. Wanted her all for himself, body and soul.

  He let his hands stroke over her rear, massaging, cupping, tugging her closer, so that his rock-hard cock pressed against her mons. She nestled against him, rubbing back and forth, creating friction so he was sure would burst into flames.

  The sound of a door opening and closing pulled them both back to reality, and with a wink, Kari turned back toward the miniature world.

  “This is a globe.”

  “Globe.” He let the world roll over his tongue.

  “It is a miniature version of what Earth looks like.” She spun the globe and pointed. “This is Scotland.”

  He leaned forward, saw his blessed country, and below it, heathen England. He’d never seen it depicted this way. It was utterly fascinating.

  “How do they know this is the way it looks?”

  “That is another day’s lesson, Highlander.” She slowly spun the globe again, her fingers trailing over blue until they reached green again. “The blue is the Atlantic Ocean, and the green is the United States. This is where we are.”

  He leaned in close to see the small, odd-shaped piece of land.

  “’Tis a long way from Scotland.”

  “If you traveled by boat—or time, sure. But probably only about six or seven hours on a plane.”

  “Plane?”

  “Another giant metal monster,” she said with a teasing smile.

  “Could we go?”

  Kari sighed and bit her lip. “It’s not that easy, Fin. Things cost money, and we would have to get you a passport, and I’m fairly certain you don’t have the required documents to do that. But it’s a possibility we can look into.”

  Finally, terms he understood. Cost. Documents. These were goals he had to strive toward.

  “How do I obtain those?”

  “We can talk about that later. For now, we ought to find out what happened to your clan.”

  “I already know.” He shook his head, pain stabbing through the wounds that no longer existed. “Ye can look for yourself, but I’d rather not live through it twice.”

  Kari nodded, and he hated to see that there was pity in her eyes. Pity was the last thing he wanted from her.

  “Here’s a dollar. There’s a soda machine back there. I’ll try not to be long.”

  “Soda?”

  “A drink. Just put the money in, and hit the button for which one you want.”

  He took the green paper she gave him and looked toward where she pointed. From the picture on the front, he could see it was a beverage of some sort. He might as well enjoy a beverage. Would they have ale? Or whisky? He could really use a stiff whisky. His clan had a small hidden distillery that made the smoothest of drinks…

  He walked back to the soda machine and, taking in the picture of a dollar and the blinking light, figured out how to put in the paper. Through a series of taps on various blocks, a soda finally dropped into the bottom. He reached in, took the beverage, but it was sealed. Not a normal cork. After struggling for what seemed like thirty minutes, he was able to open the bottle. He tilted it into his mouth and out poured the syrupiest sweet and spicy bubbly poison he’d ever tasted.

  She was trying to kill him.

  5

  “How can I help you, miss?”

  “I am doing a project on the Scottish MacClintock Clan—they were wiped out around the year 1243. I couldn’t seem to find anything in the stacks.”

  The short, rumpled student librarian shoved her glasses back to the bridge of her nose and nodded. “Let’s check the library records online. Might be able to find something for you on microfiche.” She clicked away on the computer for a minute and frowned. “Hmm…”

  “What?”

  “I do not see anything…Let me look in the deep archives. Sometimes information that isn’t readily important, or rarely used, makes it into deep archives and never resurfaces—that is, until someone like you comes around.”

  The librarian clicked some more, and with each passing moment, Kari grew more and more nervous. Had Fin made up the entire story?

  “Got it!”

  The librarian’s shout startled Kari, causing her to bump her knee into the information desk. She winced and bent to rub the sore spot.

  “Wow. How did you even find out about the MacClintocks?
Looks like no one has even accessed this information since…well, since ever.”

  “Someone in my family mentioned them,” Kari mumbled.

  “I’m printing it out. It’s a small account of the clan, not much, but hopefully, it will help. So tragic.”

  Feeling a little stunned, Kari thanked the librarian and walked to the printer.

  With shaky hands, she lifted the paper and scanned through the contents. Everything Fin had told her was there on paper—even that the Douglas and his men had annihilated the entire MacClintock clan. And most notably that the body of Laird Finley MacClintock was never found.

  She swallowed hard, gulping for air. Time travel…the words made her stomach twist into knots. He hadn’t lied. He’d told the truth. He was from another time. There was no way that Fin could have made up what happened to him—the information wasn’t readily available for him to have discovered and run with it.

  She sighed deeply, her heart going out to him. How awful to be transported to a time you know nothing about while the people you love were being massacred. The deep ache he must be feeling tore at Kari’s heart. The fact that he was even standing was a testament to his strength, because she would have been curled into a ball, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Tragic, yes,” Kari said. “Thank you.”

  “Glad to help.”

  Kari glanced toward Fin. Now they just had to figure out what they were going to do.

  She made her way toward the soda machines where Fin leaned against a wall, glaring at her, his eyes red and watery as if he’d been coughing.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Once the poison has left my system, I will be.” He pushed off the wall stalking toward her. “Why did you do this? Who put you up to it? The Douglas?”

  Kari’s hand came to her throat, and her stomach flipped with panic. “Poison? What are you talking about?” She shook her head emphatically.

  His arm fanned out in irritation. “Ye tried to kill me with this…this soda machine.”