by Janet Leigh
“There was a man in my room,” she said. “He was going through my jewelry, and he ran when I screamed.”
“Search the house and notify my guards,” Lord Bryant commanded. The servants began to scatter. “I want every square inch checked for this intruder.”
One of the servants returned and said, “Lord Bryant, I have to inform you, Lord McGregor is missing, and he hasn’t slept in his bed.”
All eyes turned to me. “I’m sure my brother was in his bed last night.”
Another scream sounded from inside my room.
Everyone rushed inside to find a half-dressed, very hungover Caiyan being held prisoner by Daisy. She had him backed into a corner, pointing a fire poker at his bare chest as if she were Zorro. His hair was long and hung around his shoulders. He looked like he belonged on a Harlequin romance novel cover. His bloodshot eyes scanned the crowd. “Shite.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Lady Sarah asked, placing her hands on her hips.
“I can explain,” Caiyan stammered. Another first for him. “Lady Jennifer and I—”
Lady Sarah cut him off. “It’s obvious you are having relations with your sister. That’s disgusting and illegal. I shall report the two of you immediately.”
Lord Bryant looked in my direction, as if we were putting his family in danger. He took his niece by the arm. “I will take care of them, my dear. Go to your chamber and see if anything is missing.”
Mrs. Ogilvy began consoling Lady Sarah as they returned to her room.
Lord Bryant instructed us to dress and meet him downstairs in the drawing room.
Caiyan stumbled off to his room, and Daisy helped me get dressed. “I’m sorry, mistress, I didnae know he was yer lover,” she said. “I had a second cousin that got on with his sister. They had bairns that were wrong in the head, if ye git my meaning.”
“Thanks for the warning, but it’s complicated,” I said.
“I cannae say that I blame ye. He is a fine-looking man.”
Jeez, even incest couldn’t mar Caiyan’s good looks.
“How did you get into my room?” I asked her.
“The servants’ entrance, there.” She pointed toward a small door partially hidden by the fabric wall coverings. It was discreetly covered to match the walls. That must have been how the intruder was sneaking about the estate without being noticed. I had a feeling the intruder was our brigand, Rogue. He was obviously looking for the key. Did he think the maid would have given the key to Lady Sarah?
After I washed, peed in a chamber pot (ick!), and had my hair done, Daisy helped me with a riding dress. I hoped it didn’t belong to Lady Sarah because she probably wasn’t too keen on having the incestuous slut wear her clothing. I returned to the study. Caiyan was there already, explaining to Lord Bryant that he assumed the intruder was Rogue, and we needed to take Mrs. Ogilvy to safety immediately. He was freshly shaven, and his long hair was pulled away from his face into a man bun.
The servants reported back, describing a man bearing Rogue’s appearance who had escaped over the back wall. Lady Sarah sent one of the chambermaids to report her jewelry was accounted for, but her schedule book was missing. Each night Mrs. Ogilvy updated the book with the next day’s affairs for Lady Sarah.
One of the kitchen maids was found tied up in the conservatory. Lord Bryant’s valet escorted her into the drawing room. She looked disheveled and frightened as someone brought her a hot drink. She told us she had been questioned by the man about all the maids who worked for Lord Bryant. This meant Rogue knew the location but didn’t know which maid. We were one step ahead of him. Lady Sarah’s schedule would have shown her lady’s maid was leaving for Scotland. If he put two and two together, he would assume Mrs. Ogilvy was the one he was after.
“He will probably try to get her on the way home,” Caiyan said.
Lord Bryant nodded in agreement. “You should take her by vessel,” he said.
Caiyan and I both agreed it would take too long by horse, but how could we get Mrs. Ogilvy—who obviously knew nothing about time travel—into an outhouse? Lord Bryant had his servants busy getting Lady Sarah ready for her journey to the country while we walked with Mrs. Ogilvy and Lord Bryant into the back gardens where we had originally landed.
As we came to the clearing in the back of the estate, Lord Bryant took Mrs. Ogilvy’s hand in his own. “Now, do not be alarmed at what you will see,” he said. “I trust these people, and you will learn the magic of the key so you can pass it down to your family members who possess the gift.”
Mrs. Ogilvy looked at him suspiciously. “What gift are ye talkin’ about?”
I approached the woman and put my hand on her arm. “Caiyan and I are from the future. We have the ability to travel back in time.” I paused for a moment to let it sink in. “We use the key to command a special vessel that takes us back in time, but it can also take us places in the same time much faster than a horse and carriage.”
Lord Bryant had guards attending the entrances to the grounds to make sure we were alone. I raised my hand to my throat and placed it on my key. The warm vibrating sensation grew strong. I said one word: “Come.” The wind whipped around us, and my outhouse materialized ten feet in front of us. Mrs. Ogilvy fainted.
“I was afraid that might happen,” Caiyan said.
“It’s always a shock the first time,” Lord Bryant said, holding Mrs. Ogilvy’s sagging body. We maneuvered her into the outhouse. Lord Bryant reached in and kissed my fingers. “Very exciting to meet you both. I hope our paths will cross again one day.”
Caiyan shook his hand and squeezed in on the other side of Mrs. Ogilvy.
I smiled. As a transporter, I can carry up to three people safely. Caiyan, being a defender, is supposed to travel alone. Last month we pushed the limits when I jumped into his vessel to escape the notorious Pancho Villa.
“What?” he asked.
“This is the first time you’ve ridden with me.”
“Well, lass, I didn’t want Mrs. Ogilvy coming aboot in the middle of the journey and ye ending up in Timbuktu.”
His drunken admissions from the night before gave a small tug on my heart, and a mischievous little smile crept across my face. Even if he didn’t remember saying he loved me, I still got to hear him say it.
Caiyan rubbed the back of his neck and squinted at me curiously. “Let’s go, lassie.”
We made a smooth landing, and I wondered if it was because Caiyan was riding shotgun. I opened the door to a field of clover. Mrs. Ogilvy started to regain consciousness, and Caiyan helped her outside the vessel. Her eyes went wide when she saw her daughter’s cottage at the bottom of an adjacent hill.
“I can’t believe mine eyes—there’s my daughter’s cottage.” Caiyan and I gave her some room to get adjusted to the travel. “We’re here.”
Her daughter lived on a small island called the Isle of Harris, in the Outer Hebrides. These were the western isles off the mainland of Scotland, and the surroundings were breathtaking. The cottage sat at the base of a hill overlooking a small loch. I explained the gift of time travel to her again. She gave me a hesitant nod, but she could not dispute the fact we were in Scotland.
“Rogue may try to steal it from ye again, so be very careful,” Caiyan warned. “We have aboot two more days to find him, and then we must return.”
She gave us a hug, and we gave her a head start down the hill. She needed time to explain us to her daughter. We would be friends of Lord Bryant who needed a place to stay while traveling. It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“What’s our next move?” I asked.
“My gut feeling tells me he’s going to come after her.” Caiyan was sitting on his haunches surveying the area. He reached down, pulled a piece of clover, and handed it to me.
A four-leaf clover. He smiled. Maybe this was our lucky day to catch Rogue.
Mrs. Ogilvy’s daughter had married her second cousin, Seamus MacDonald. They were a nice couple, and just as Mrs. Ogilvy said, the new baby had arrived, and she was beautiful. I held the tiny bundle while her mother and Mrs. Ogilvy fussed over a pot of stew. Small dark-red curls sprouted like a cap from her tiny head. I reached in and she grasped my finger. I didn’t feel any special tingle, but if it were there, it wouldn’t make itself known for some time. Caiyan was sitting on a sofa keeping an eye out the front window. He looked at me, and an uneasy feeling rolled around in my gut. Did I want one of these? Did I want one of these with Caiyan? He raised an eyebrow, and my inner self ran around dousing the flames of my raging hormones.
We hung out at the cottage, helping with the chores. I decided this was not the life I was cut out for because everything had to be done by hand—clothing, cooking, and cleaning. By the end of the day, my back was screaming from scrubbing. These people could really benefit from a vacuum cleaner. It seemed like as soon as I dusted, more dust settled in its place. The cottage was small, and the MacDonalds were sharing a bedroom about the size of my closet back home. Mrs. Ogilvy had the second bedroom (even smaller), Caiyan and I slept on the floor. Mrs. Ogilvy made a nice pallet for me next to the fire. Since it was too cold to sleep in the barn, it was agreed Caiyan would sleep by the door. Mrs. Ogilvy cut her eyes at Caiyan as she bid us good-night. It was a telepathic warning to stay on his side of the room. I couldn’t help but giggle at the unspoken threat.
Even with the close quarters, in the middle of the night Caiyan moved his blankets next to mine and pulled me closer to him.
“Mrs. Ogilvy is not going to like you moving over here,” I said.
“Mrs. Ogilvy is naught resting her tired body on the cold, drafty floor. The fire burned slowly in the fireplace, and he made love to me on the handwoven rug Mrs. Ogilvy told me had been in her family for centuries.
I wanted to ask him about the previous night. Did he remember the declaration of love he had made? I just couldn’t seem to find the right words. Caiyan, did you mean you loved me the other night? Or, Hey, Caiyan, about those words, my true love…
My inner self clicked her tongue at me and shook her head. Did I love him? I wasn’t sure. Everyone had warned me about his wandering ways. There was something keeping me from shouting those three scary words. I decided I just needed more time to make sure Mr. Right wasn’t Mr. Right now.
Caiyan and I borrowed the couple’s only horse and scouted the outer island in search of Rogue. For the next two days, in order to give the new family a little space, we rode, watched the incoming traffic from the ferry, and stayed close to the cottage. Our time was running out. If Rogue was going to make a move, it would have to be tonight, because it was time to leave. It was dangerous to extend the stay more than three days. Caiyan told me the pain starts when the moon’s waning period is over, about five days after the full moon.
“Why doesn’t he just pop over like we did?” I asked.
“He doesn’t know where she is, and it’s dangerous to lateral travel outside of yer own time.”
“Dangerous?” I asked, because there was no mention of danger when we were hauling Mrs. Ogilvy across the continent.
“Aye. Some travelers have been known to get lost in time.”
“L-lost in time?” I stuttered, not entirely because it was cold outside.
“Are ye cold?” Caiyan immediately became concerned. I assumed it was to change the subject. A light drizzle had begun, and we stopped at a local inn in the village. A man and his wife staffed the inn, and we were their only customers. They served a welcome home-cooked meal and a pint of ale, which I had begun to develop a taste for. Since we had been there the previous day, the owners offered idle talk of the local gossip. The innkeeper’s wife had just returned from a trip to the main island for supplies, and she told us there was man on the Isle of Sky asking questions about the MacDonald clan. She said he was on the ferry with her that afternoon, but he looked like a scoundrel, and she didn’t give him any information about the MacDonalds.
Caiyan and I finished our meal quickly, barely getting time to thaw out from the cold. We were back on the horse when Caiyan saw a man walking toward the stables. He jerked up on the reins and led our horse out of sight. Caiyan circled around to the main road that led toward the cottage.
“If he comes this way, he will have to go over this bridge,” Caiyan said as we came upon a small bridge. He helped me down from the horse and then dismounted.
“Do you think there are any trolls under there?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out.” Caiyan knelt down and had a look under the bridge. After he declared it free from trolls, he said, “Wait here, lassie. I’m going to see what he’s up to.”
“You want me to wait here alone?” I asked.
“I will only be gone for a short time. I think this will be the best place to grab him. I can hide on the other side of the bridge. Ye can’t see it from here.” He pointed across the small river, and I agreed it would surprise Rogue if Caiyan jumped him from that side.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Hide under the bridge. It will provide a warm spot until I return. Then we can decide how ye will help me snag this brigand.”
I gave him a long kiss, and the lingering effects reflected in his eyes.
“Go on now, lass.”
I obeyed, hunkered down in my troll bunker, and waited.
I returned from my reverie. Well, that was a plan that went haywire thanks to lust and hormones. If I was going to be a good transporter, I was going to have to put my craving for Caiyan at a distance. I sighed and organized my story for the debriefing, leaving out the mishap in the bedroom at Lord Bryant’s estate and the fact I was almost fish food. My inner voice gave me the thumbs-up, and I headed back to the WTF for the debriefing and the scolding Jake would give us for not completing our mission.
Chapter 5
My vessel came to a screeching halt, banging my knee against the door. First on my list is getting a flying lesson, so to speak. No matter how calm I try to remain or how hard I focus, my vessel bounces around like a bobber on a fishing line that just snagged a great white. Ace, my good friend and fellow transporter, travels in a photo booth. It’s similar to the kind found at a carnival, where a group of friends would get in, pull the curtain, and in three magic minutes a strip of four photos slides out the front. It is rare that a male becomes a transporter instead of a defender, but that’s just how Ace rolls. Ace’s vessel sails as smooth as silk, and he pipes in his own music and disco lights.
The WTF has a secret headquarters under the highest level maximum security prison at Gitmo. Twelve landing blocks forming a four-by-three grid are housed in a large underground space similar to an aircraft hangar. I opened the door to my vessel. Jake was standing in a black suit, hands on hips, waiting for me. His dark-brown hair was immaculately groomed into position with some space-age gel. The boy I knew from high school, who could have been Zac Efron’s twin, now looked like he should star in an espionage thriller. Caiyan’s red phone booth was on the platform to my left, empty. I searched the room, but no Caiyan.
“He’s already been debriefed and sent to medical,” Jake said as he came forward and assisted me down from the landing platform.
“Already been debriefed?” I asked. I glanced at the TAG Heuer watch Jake wore on his wrist, a gift from his father. I was back exactly three hours from the time I originally left. “How long has he been back?”
“Two hours,” Jake said firmly.
“Two hours?” How did he beat me back by two hours? Another question in my notebook of things that needed answers.
“Your vessel is empty,” he said, pointing at my outhouse.
“Well, since Caiyan is already here, I’m sure you’re aware we didn’t catch Rogue. But he didn’t get the key, either,” I added for good measure.
“I
’m glad you’re safe, but if you insist on being a transporter, you’ll need more training.” Jake shook his finger at me as if I was five. “I’m not going to authorize more travel for you until I feel you’re not a threat to our mission.”
“A threat?” I pushed the sleeves of my Donna Karan cashmere sweater up to my elbows and thanked God I was back in my own clothes. “What do you mean threat?” Then it dawned on me. Caiyan told him about my mishap and almost falling into the river. Caiyan had purposely returned earlier than I had so he could tell Jake I needed more training. The little tattletale.
I stepped toward Jake, and he grabbed my wrist.
“Ouch!” His touch caused my arm to ache.
He held my arm up and pushed my sleeve up to my biceps. Dark black bruises tattooed the length of my arm where I had fought against Rogue. An ugly welt was beginning to form around my forearm where Caiyan had grabbed me to prevent my fall.
Jake grimaced. Ever since he found out I’d had “relations,” as he put it, with Caiyan, our friendship had been strained. Jake and I had been best friends since fourth grade. I wasn’t sure I liked “boss” Jake.
“It’s nothing.” I jerked my arm free and pulled down my sleeve.
“We need to go down to the debriefing room. General Potts is waiting for your account of what happened.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and that warm comfortable feeling enveloped me. His cologne, the same cologne he wore in high school, caught the air, and I could feel my knees weaken just a little.
“I was really worried about you,” he said under his breath.
“I know.” I smiled up at him. His big, brown puppy-dog eyes that I have loved since fourth grade looked back at me. This was “friend” Jake. He gave my shoulders a squeeze, and we walked casually down the long corridor to my inquisition.
General Potts stood as we entered the debriefing room. The long mahogany table cut him mid–robust belly, making it seem as if he was only a body propped up on the table like a Beethoven bust. He greeted me with his gravel-laden voice. “Uhm, Miss Cloud, pleasure to see you returned unharmed.” He coughed slightly and indicated one of the chairs in the room. “Please have a seat.”