Edge of Yesterday (Edge Series Book 1)

by Tarah Scott

  “I didnae go that far, two miles perhaps.”

  He lifted a brow “Mayhap three? We were close to Heatheredge, aye?”

  “When they were chasing me I couldnae head toward Raghnall,” she said. “That would have made it too easy for Crowe to guess the identity of the watcher.”

  His expression had grown grim. “Ye bloody well could have been killed.”

  A strange emotion rippled through her. He was worried about her. “I know. Lennox has duly chastised me.”

  It seemed he would say more on the subject; instead, he said, “What of your father? Why haven’t ye told him?”

  “He would believe us, but even if he demanded that Alexander put Crowe on trial, with only me as a witness, Crowe would no’ be convicted.”

  “And your hand would be played,” Cailean finished for her.

  She nodded. “We have to get more evidence.”

  “Like this cursing bone.” He glanced at it.

  She hesitated, considering. “There is no proof it is his.”

  “What is it doing here?” Cailean’s voice sounded dark. “I dinnae like this at all. Someone here has to be in league with him.”

  Gooseflesh rose on her arms. “Aye. But I have no idea who.”

  He stood and headed for the table where they’d left the cursing bone. Julianna jumped to her feet and hurried after him. She pulled up beside him just as he reached for the bone.

  “Nae.” She grabbed his arm.

  Cailean looked at her. “There’s no need to be afraid.”

  She pulled the bag over the bone and picked it up. “It isnae fear.” She met his gaze. “It is respect.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cailean watched as Julianna brought a candle close to the bone. She pulled the sides of the bag down, careful not to touch the bone, then slid her hand beneath the wood and cupped it.

  “Ye see the blood?” She turned the bone and pointed to a streak of blood down the side. “It is human blood. There is power in the blood. Even our ancestors know this truth. The life…spirit carries knowledge. Until we know what that knowledge is we dinnae mix it with our life.”

  “You’re talking magic,” he said.

  “Magic is only truth not yet understood. These are the laws of nature.”

  He grunted a laugh. “I have to admit, I’ve seen stranger things.”

  She looked at him. “Nae.”

  Her eyes were wide like a child’s and he had to laugh. One moment she was talking magic and voodoo, the next she was amazed that strange things existed in the world. He didn’t know about magic—though four days ago he also didn’t know about time travel or parallel universes—but he did know curiosity killed the cat.

  He gripped her arm, squeezed. “Will you do me a favor and not mention this to anyone?”

  She regarded him. “Ye dinnae want Crowe to know that you suspect him.”

  Cailean’s groin tugged. He liked smart women, and Julianna was as smart as they came. “It will likely end up being nothing, but I would rather wait and see.”

  She nodded and set the bone on the shelf. “And I dinnae want him knowing it was me who saw him in the woods.”

  “If you’re right and he was practicing black magic, he could be put to death.”

  Seeing Crowe hang wouldn’t upset him.

  There were some damn strange goings-on in Heatheredge that seemed to have started with Crowe. Three people had disappeared from this Heatheredge. Had people been vanishing from Heatheredge for six hundred years? Bloody hell, how had that escaped the authorities?

  It hadn’t.

  Constable Drummond had noticed.

  This had to end. Cailean had worn his sword at the time he was catapulted back in time and hadn’t been able to prevent what happened to him. His belly twisted with dread. How could he stop a foe he couldn’t see and couldn’t kill with a sword? Who back home would believe that the people who disappeared had stepped into some sort of time travel or parallel universe portal?

  He imagined Constable Drummond’s face when Cailean claimed he’d been sent to an alternate universe. Drummond would lock him up, and not in a jail. Cailean’s jaw tensed. He would make the constable understand. He had to. The people who’d disappeared from this Heatheredge went somewhere. The door swung both ways. He would make it home. Before then, however, he would ensure Julianna’s safety.

  Cailean’s brain froze. Julianna. He stared at her. She was intent on the cursing bone. He wanted to reach out, touch her, reassure himself she was really there, but his hand trembled and he could almost see the fear chewing its way up his arm to his heart. If the monster reached the epicenter, it would gnaw through to the blood and drink until he was drained.

  Historians had hypothesized about Lady Julianna’s death. The servant who confessed to Lennox that Hugh kidnapped her had said she escaped. Chroniclers believed Julianna had been killed by Hugh or had run into brigands, but Cailean knew the truth. She’d fallen into the vortex that had claimed her aunt and the others who had disappeared.

  What had Lennox said? Some people don’t leave their homes in the month of April for fear of being taken. But Strone Hall was nowhere near where Cailean had landed. His stomach made a sick turn and for one horrible moment he thought he would vomit.

  Crowe.

  Crowe had to be the mysterious party who’d been in league with Hugh Murray. In Cailean’s history, Crowe had seized her and thrown her into the vortex just as Val had him. But why? And how was it possible that two men separated by a multitude of generations could be…what? Manipulating time? Crossing into another dimension or parallel universe? What the fuck had Crowe started here in the fourteenth century that Val continued in the twenty-first?

  Cailean’s head pounded, but one thought bounced off the insides of his skull: he couldn’t let what happened to him happen to Julianna.

  A big piece of the puzzle unexpectedly clicked into place. Crowe had figured out it was Julianna who saw him in the woods and he intended to dispose of her in a way that ensured she wouldn’t talk and no one would be able to accuse him of murder.

  “I cannae understand what the cursing bone is doing here,” Julianna said. “Holy ground is the last place I would think to store an instrument of witchcraft.”

  “Maybe that’s the point,” Cailean said.

  Understanding dawned in her eyes. “No one would look for it here. Still, it is strange. Why not bury it somewhere, hide it in a cave or beneath a rock? There are many easier places to conceal such an item where it simply wouldn’t be found, and it would be more accessible.”

  “Unless one of the other men you saw that night is here at Reay Abbey.” That had to be the answer. Someone at Reay was in league with Crowe. Rathais, he thought with a start. It had to be Rathais. Val was Crowe’s doppelganger and Father Andrew was Lord Rathais’ double. Bloody hell, they even shared the same surname. Another coincidence that was too damned strange to be for real. Whatever was going on was a family tradition shared by these two men. Did that mean Rathais was party to the disposal of Julianna?

  “If I were to find out one of the priests is practicing black magic…” Her mouth thinned. “I will have to pray for a month to be forgiven for my thoughts.”

  He knew exactly how she felt. “Let’s put this back in its place and get you to your bed.”

  Minutes later, they entered the garden. Chill air whipped, and Cailean frowned when Julianna turned her head aside and clasped her cloak tight about her shoulders.

  “Ye are cold,” he said as they followed the pebbled path to the monastery’s guest lodgings.

  She shook her head, but he was sure her shoulders were hunched beneath the cloak. Cailean put an arm around her and drew her close. She didn’t resist, and leaned into to his side. He slowed stride so that she wasn’t forced to keep pace. Her body, flush against his, felt as natural as the sun on his face. Damn. If she wasn’t a fourteenth century woman, he would kiss her—and more. She wrapped her arm around his waist and walked in st
ep with him.

  Cailean recalled the intensity in her eyes when she’d explained about the cursing bone. She was smart—and tough. Her expression when she suspected a priest might be practicing black magic was no less determined. He’d read enough to know that medieval women were no wilting violets, but he’d had no idea just how tough they were. Modern women could learn a thing or two from them. Ginny would like her. Regret brought a stab of sadness. The two women would never meet. Would he be able to tell Ginny about Julianna? He and his sister were close, but even she might worry he’d gone mad if he told her that he’d spent the last week in medieval Scotland.

  They reached the building which housed Julianna’s room and he pulled open the door. She entered and he followed, closing the door with some force when the wind gusted into the arched entry. Julianna hurried forward and Cailean followed. They passed nine doors before she stopped and entered her assigned quarters. Cailean stopped in the doorway. One large round candle cast a dim light in the small room, aptly named a cell. A low bed with a thin mattress sat against the wall and a table where the candle burned stood against the wall directly ahead.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Ye may enter, Cailean.”

  He shook his head. “I’d better not.”

  She lifted a brow. “Surely, ye are not afraid of a woman?”

  “If I wasn’t, I would be a fool.”

  Mischief lit her eyes. “Ye need not worry. I dinnae have a knife.”

  “I don’t believe you, my lady.”

  She lifted her chin. “It isnae polite to call a lady a liar.”

  “Forgive me.” He started to turn, then stilled at the echo of approaching footsteps. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. Who was coming by at this time of night? Was it Rathais, here to finish what Hugh Murray had started?

  “Quick.” Julianna grasped his arm and pulled him into the room.

  “Julianna—”

  She closed the door, then hissed, “Shhh.”

  The footsteps drew closer then passed. Julianna took off her cloak and tossed it onto the small table.

  Cailean knew he should go, but how could he possibly leave her alone and defenseless? He would sleep outside her door.

  “I should go.”

  She shook her head. “You must wait a few minutes to be sure no one sees you.”

  Cailean leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “If I didn’t know better, I would say ye are trying to keep me here.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  He smiled. “You tell me.”

  “Is my company so abhorrent that you must flee?” she asked.

  “On the contrary, your company is too pleasing.”

  She dropped her gaze in a clear attempt to hide her expression, but Cailean could see she was pleased.

  “Then stay,” she said.

  “If your brother catches me here, he will kill me.”

  She snorted. “Lennox knows I am a woman grown, and I am no maiden. I can do as I please.”

  “That doesnae mean he would want me dallying with you.”

  “Dallying?” She lifted her brows. “Ye think well of yourself, sir.”

  “Dallying isn’t what ye had in mind?” He lifted a brow.

  Her eyes darkened. Yes, this woman was trouble. She started toward him. He straightened from the wall and remained perfectly still until she stopped in front of him.

  “I am no idiot,” she said. “I have seen the way you look at me.”

  Trouble, trouble, trouble.

  He wasn’t going to take the bait. He stared but said nothing.

  “Ye find me pleasing.” She set her hands on her hips.

  “I have eyes,” he said, then cursed his tongue. Give the woman an inch and she would take a mile.

  She stepped closer and before he could move, she placed her hands on his chest. “You want to know what it is like to kiss me.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  She slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. Her fingers brushed his flesh and tickled the sensitive hair at the back of his neck. His cock began to lengthen.

  “Julianna,” he said, but she was pulling his head down.

  Their lips touched and Cailean felt his surroundings slip away. Her mouth, warm and soft, melted beneath his. Her breath was sweet with the taste of rosemary and mint. Lightly, her tongue flicked his lips. Cailean sucked her tongue into his mouth. She leaned close and her hard nipples pressed against him. Cailean gripped her shoulders and crushed her to him. Julianna speared the fingers of one hand into his hair and tugged as she nipped at his lips. Heat flashed through him. She abruptly pulled back and Cailean jarred. Julianna backed him toward the bed. Leaving would have been the better part of valor. But a kiss or two wouldn’t hurt…

  “Your brother will never forgive me,” he said.

  “Then we willnae tell him.”

  The backs of his legs bumped the wooden bed frame and he fell onto the mattress on his arse. His cock jerked when she knelt in front of him. Sweet God, she wasn’t going to… She kept her eyes on his face as she reached toward his…belt. Laughter appeared in her eyes as she unbuckled the clasp. The woman was a tease—and knew it. She grasped the sword sheath and freed the belt from his waist, re-buckled it, then hung it over the small post at the foot of the bed. Julianna rose, hiked up her dress, and straddled his lap. She reached beneath her skirt and shoved his kilt up to his waist. He held his breath as her velvety soft skin made contact with his thighs.

  “God have mercy,” he breathed, and she laughed as her mouth descended onto his.

  Cailean returned her kiss and wondered if he’d ever truly kissed a woman before today. He’d known beautiful women, had loved one or two, but Julianna took his breath away.

  Her soft belly bumped his engorged cock and a spasm of pleasure pulled his bollocks so tight he grimaced in discomfort. Bloody hell, he wanted the woman. Her mouth shifted on his and this time she sucked his tongue into her mouth. Cailean grasped the hairnet she wore and pulled it from her hair. Two long braids tumbled free. He worked the plaits free until the thick tresses filled his hand.

  She slid her mouth down his jaw to his neck as she rocked her mons against his erection. He drew a sharp breath when her soft curls tickled the underside of his cock and bollocks. Cailean gritted his teeth against the compulsion to orgasm. He hadn’t embarrassed himself that way since he’d been a lad of nineteen. He broke the kiss, then tugged down a sleeve of her dress and revealed one perfect breast with a light pink areola. He ducked his head and took the nipple in his mouth. Her skin tasted slightly salty and felt like velvet. He flicked the nipple with his tongue. She gasped and rocked harder. Each bump against his member sent pleasure rocketing through him. She hadn’t lied when she said she was no maiden. The woman knew what she wanted—and he liked that. So much for the submissive wilting medieval woman.

  Cailean twisted and rolled Julianna onto her back. He shoved his hands beneath her arse and scooted her fully onto the bed. Her loosened hair framed her face like spun gold. Cailean brushed his lips against hers. She stilled and satisfaction shot through him. She wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted, but she hadn’t expected tenderness…and maybe a little more?

  He kissed her again and covered a breast with his palm. Julianna slid her arms around him and hugged him close. Cailean gently rocked against her. It would take every ounce of determination he had not to come before he pleased her, but he would do it. She arched her hips. What would she do if he slipped a finger into her wet heat? His heart pounded. God help him, if he touched her sex he might not be able to keep from driving inside her like a beast.

  The creak of wood registered dimly in his mind. She felt so good beneath him. So sweet and willing. Would it be so wrong—

  “What the bloody hell are ye doing, ye bastard?”

  Cailean jerked his head up. Crowe and Father Andrew stood just inside the room. Crowe’s eyes shifted from Cailean to Julianna. Cailean slid of
f her and yanked her bodice up over her breasts before rolling off the bed and onto his feet.

  “What is this?” he demanded.

  Father Andrew opened his mouth to reply, but Crowe shouted, “I will cut your heart out!” He whipped his sword from its sheath.

  Father Andrew seized his arm. “Nae, my lord.”

  But Crowe yanked free and lunged toward Cailean. Cailean started to grab his sword and froze when Julianna leapt in front of him. Crowe reached out and Cailean realized he intended to shove her aside. Cailean grabbed for Julianna, but she spun and eluded them both while jamming her elbow into Crowe’s cheek. Cailean had the fleeting thought that the move reminded him of something Ginny would do as he rammed into Crowe with his shoulder.

  He drove the man back against the wall. Crowe’s sword clattered to the floor and he bellowed like a wild animal. He brought his clasped fists down on Cailean’s back with enough force to drive the air from Cailean’s lungs. Cailean wheezed, but managed a punch to Crowe’s kidneys, then leapt back in time to avoid another vicious blow.

  “Stop them, Father,” Julianna shouted.

  Crowe’s eyes jerked to his sword a few feet to his right. Strong fingers seized Cailean’s shoulders. He whirled and grabbed Father Andrew’s arm, twisting it around his back. He shoved the man and dove for his sword as Crowe reached his own weapon. Cailean yanked Triumph from her sheath and swung upward to block Crowe’s blow. His arm jarred, and red hot fury set his belly on fire.

  “Crowe,” Julianna shouted. “Stop! Ye have no right.”

  Father Gabriel burst into the room. “What has happened?” He looked from one to the other, shock on his face.

  “We found them together in bed,” Father Andrew said.

  “Cease this fighting now, Crowe,” Father Gabriel shouted. “This is a house of God. There will be no killing here.”

  Crowe jabbed left and caught Cailean’s sash.

  “Cailean,” Father Gabriel yelled. “Stop, now!”

  But even if Cailean had wanted to stop, Crowe wouldn’t give him a chance—and Cailean had no intention of stopping. Crowe advanced on him with a vengeance, parried left then right like a madman, and Cailean realized he meant to drive him back against the bed. Cailean dove left, tucked and rolled to his feet. Crowe whirled, his eyes ablaze with irrational fury.