Edge of Yesterday (Edge Series Book 1)

by Tarah Scott

  The men’s voices faced away from them.

  “What I know is that the trouble began that night in the woods,” Rathais said.

  “I can deal with Julianna,” Crowe said.

  Fury burst through Cailean and he saw himself leaping from their hiding place and impaling Crowe with his sword. This time, it was Julianna who squeezed his arm, holding him back.

  “If she told Ravenstone she saw ye, we would have heard from Alexander by now,” Rathais said. “Charges of witchcraft against his Clan Ceann-Cath are serious enough to have brought him here immediately.”

  “Aye,” Crowe replied. “But she willnae remain silent forever.”

  “I still say it is better we perform the ritual as planned,” Rathais asked. “To deviate is to tempt fate.”

  “I control fate.” Crowe’s voice rose, echoing in the cavern. “We must fuel the rumors with a vengeance this time. That will force Ravenstone’s hand.”

  “We can do that without shedding blood.”

  “Nae.” Crowe snarled the word. “I will have his blood in payment for what he did to me. Then, every time I fuck his woman, she will look at my face and be reminded of the husband I took from her.”

  A flush of hot fury mounted into Cailean’s throat and cheeks and he found himself reaching for his sword. Once more, Julianna seized his arm. He jerked his gaze onto her. She shook her head and pleaded with her eyes. But if he didn’t kill Crowe now, what other opportunity might he have? There was only Rathais as a witness and Cailean would kill him, as well. She laid a hand on the fingers that still gripped Triumph’s hilt.

  Reason reasserted itself enough for him to consider the odds. He was a world class swordsman but, in truth, that meant far less in the fourteenth century than it did in the twenty-first century. Cailean had come to realize that Val hadn’t nicked him with his dagger by accident. The cuts to his arm had been intentional. Whether or not Val had slowed with age, here, in fourteenth century Scotland, as Crowe, he lived his life by the sword. Cailean had already tasted of his steel. Rathais’ broad shoulders and massive arm muscles said the same of him. Cailean would be hard-pressed to kill them both. He would take that chance if he were alone, but he couldn’t risk Julianna’s safety.

  He released the hilt and nodded at Julianna. Relief flooded her eyes.

  “I want to know why he was asking about Lady Elizabeth,” Rathais said. “He is too young to have taken part in the battle. He knows about the babe.”

  Shock reverberated through Cailean. Elizabeth did have a baby?

  “He knows nothing,” Crowe shot back. “Alex willnae refuse me. I will return within two days with his orders that Cailean Ross appear immediately before me at Heatheredge Tower in Alex’s stead. Ravenstone will accompany him, and after I have stabbed Ross, he will disappear before witnesses. These superstitious townfolk will believe Ravenstone performed black magic to save his new son-in-law. That is all we need.”

  A soft click sounded and Julianna looked at Cailean, frowning. He shook his head. Dammit, how long did the men intend to stay in the cavern? Cailean had reassured Julianna when she reacted to the knowledge of a man chasing Lennox, but Cailean didn’t like leaving his brother-in-law alone to defend himself.

  Crowe began chanting. Cailean’s heart sped up. What the bloody hell was the man doing? The chanting continued another few seconds then a red glow lit the water like the high beam of a car. Julianna gave a soft gasp. Cailean tensed. She yanked her head up and they stared at one another for a long moment before accepting that no one had heard them.

  Julianna still stared, eyes wide, questions flooding her gaze. Cailean lifted his arm from her and put a finger to his mouth. He gave her a hard look to indicate she wasn’t to move. She nodded and he carefully slid to the edge of the rock and peered around at the men. Crowe and Rathais stood at the opposite side of the cavern before a gaping door in the stone wall.

  Dread rocketed through Cailean. He had accepted that he no longer resided in twenty-first century Scotland. Yet, despite all he’d been through, he now questioned his sanity. Crowe extended his wizard’s staff before him, the glowing stone, shooting a translucent red beam across the water. No twenty-first century technology existed to explain this phenomenon. That left some ancient kind of magic.

  Crowe stared at the light and continued to chant. A figure began to coalesce inside the shining beam. Cailean froze as he watched a human form take shape. The form remained blurry, but seemed to be a large man. Something about the man niggled a sense of distant familiarity. Fuzzy images rose in the background beyond the figure. Buildings, he thought, but couldn’t be sure. Crowe’s voice grew louder in a language Cailean didn’t recognize. Latin? Nae. The language sounded older, completely foreign. Rathais stood as if frozen, staring at the images. Crowe’s chant began to sound desperate…almost angry. He abruptly stopped and lowered the staff.

  “By God, the staff has never before failed me,” he growled.

  Cailean was surprised to see the tired slump in Crowe’s shoulders. So using magic took the stuffing out of him. That was a piece of information Cailean wouldn’t forget.

  “Is it possible he is a warlock?” Rathais asked. “Mayhap he has protected himself with his own magic?”

  Crowe cast him a disgusted look. “Any magic he has cannae possibly compare to mine.” He turned and walked back to the vault and set the staff inside. He grasped the door and began pushing it shut. Cailean ducked behind the rock. Julianna looked up at him, a question still in her eyes, but he only shook his head.

  “Are ye sure you shouldnae take the dagger with ye?” Rathais asked.

  “I cannae risk Alex seeing it,” Crowe replied. His voice came closer. “He was only seven when I arrived in Heatheredge, but the man has a sharp memory. Soon, he will care little about any rumors against me and I can do as I please.”

  “Father Gabriel may send me to Reay village,” Rathais said.

  “I dinnae need ye,” Crowe replied. This time their bootfalls were farther away and Cailean realized they were leaving.

  “It would be best if I served as a witness when ye deal with Ross,” Rathais said.

  Two heartbeats of silence passed before Crowe said, “It wouldnae hurt for ye to be there.”

  His voice echoed and Cailean guessed they’d left the cavern and entered the tunnel.

  Rathais replied in a low voice that Cailean couldn’t discern. When their footsteps receded beyond hearing, Cailean waited another two minutes before stepping from their hiding place.

  “What do they have planned?” Julianna asked in a low voice. “They spoke of you disappearing.”

  Cailean put a finger to his mouth and hurried toward the secret door. He ran his fingers along the stone wall but detected nothing, no cracks in the stone, no small crevices that would indicate there was a door.

  “Dammit,” he muttered.

  “What are ye looking for?” Julianna frowned.

  “There is a secret vault in the wall here.” He glanced at her as he ran his hands over the stone. “I saw it.”

  “Then we will find it.” She began to trace her fingers along the cavern wall. He had started to think they wouldn’t find the door, when a small click sounded, and she said, “Ah ha!”

  The stone sprang open. She grasped the edges and pulled on the door. Inside the vault, a massive two-handed sword leaned against the wall. The velvet bag containing the cursing bone sat on the floor, but Cailean had eyes only for the staff. He pulled it from the vault. His heart began to pound. Yes, there was no doubt, it was the very same staff he’d seen in Heatheredge.

  He ran a finger over the strange lettering carved into the wood. “Is this the staff you saw Crowe with that night in the woods?”

  Julianna didn’t answer, he looked up. She held Crowe’s unsheathed dagger. The scabbard, she held tucked under her arm as she examined the blade. “You were right, Cailean, this is an unusual dagger.” She grazed the edge with her thumb.

  “Nae!” He dropped t
he staff and seized the hand gripping the dagger, but too late. A drop of crimson blood beaded the pad of her thumb.

  Julianna looked up at him, eyes unfocused. “So strange.”

  She swayed, and Cailean recalled the disorientation he felt when he’d been nicked with the blade. Julianna shook her head as if trying to clear her mind. Cailean wrenched the dagger from her and threw it to the ground. It clattered across the stone floor and skittered toward the water, stopping with its hilt hanging perilously over the pool’s edge.

  Julianna’s knees buckled. Cailean caught her and held her close. His heart jackhammered against his ribs. What could he do? Could she spiral back through time with only two cuts, instead of the three Val had inflicted on him? It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let her go. He crushed her close.

  “I won’t let him take you from me,” he growled.

  The dagger. If he cut himself, would he be able to travel in time with her? Or would they scatter in different directions? Fury bellowed through him at the helplessness he felt.

  “I feel so odd,” she murmured.

  Cailean’s blood roared in his ears. His chest had gone so tight he could hardly breathe. There had to be a way to stop the magic. His transport through time had been lightning fast. He’d seen and heard only the crack of lightning. Now, only the quiet lap of water against the rock echoed in the cavern.

  Julianna went limp in his arms and terror ripped through him when she suddenly felt light as a feather. His mind whirled. How would he find her in the massive thread of time?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cailean had cried only three times in his life. When his mother died. When his father died. And when he lost his beloved Aussie of fifteen years. Now, his chest constricted with the pressure of all those sorrows—and so much more—and his heart cracked as tears blurred his vision. The week he’d been in Heatheredge he’d been hell-bent on returning home. Yes, wanting to return to one’s own century after traveling back in time six hundred years was the sane response…the right thing to do, upon reflection. But too much time thinking about stopping Crowe and going home meant little time considering the one thing he couldn’t allow himself to ponder.

  Her.

  Kill Crowe and return home had been his mantra.

  But he was home.

  Heatheredge—this Heatheredge—was his Heatheredge. And she was his wife.

  Julianna’s body felt so light in his arms that he feared she was dissolving. His mind whirled. I can’t. I can’t live without her.

  “Goddammit, I won’t let ye go. I won’t.” He buried his face so deep in her hair he could almost taste her.

  “Ye had better no’.”

  Cailean’s mind cleared. “What?”

  “Ye had better no’ let me go.”

  He drew back enough to look down into her eyes. She stared up at him.

  “I thought…” The words choked him.

  Julianna frowned. “Thought what?”

  Cailean ran his fingers over her face, her neck, her shoulders, looking for anything out of place.

  Her gaze searched his face. “Are ye all right, Cailean?”

  He yanked her to him and covered her mouth with his. She tensed, then relaxed when he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. He tasted her, memorized every contour and the tangle of her tongue with his.

  Julianna abruptly broke the kiss. “I cannae breathe.” She wriggled but he refused to release her. “Cailean.” She pushed at his chest.

  He loosened his hold and drew back only far enough to look at her. “Are ye well?”

  “I felt odd for a moment. I was dizzy, but now I am fine.”

  Cailean traced a finger along her cheek. “So long as I live, you will always be fine.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Your cheek is wet. Are ye ill?”

  He smiled gently. “God knows, since I’ve met you, I feel as if I have gone mad.”

  She placed a hand on his cheek. “Nae, Cailean. Ye are as full-witted as any man.”

  “Any man who’s fallen in love, perhaps.”

  Pink tinged her cheeks. “What are ye saying?”

  “I’m saying I have gone mad—and it’s all your fault.”

  *

  Sweet God, was Cailean truly saying he loved her? Her heart began to pound faster. “Cailean,” she whispered, but he kissed her again, hard, then, pulled back and started to turn. He stopped, grasped her hand, then led her to the water’s edge where Crowe’s dagger teetered on the ledge of the rock shore. Cailean picked up the dagger, then flung it across the water. It splashed and disappeared a few feet from the waterfall.

  “Why did ye do that?” she asked.

  “It’s a dangerous weapon.”

  She stared at the spot the dagger had fallen into the water. “I wondered if it was me.”

  His gaze snapped onto her, but she couldn’t tear her attention from the water. “What?” he demanded.

  “The other night when I pricked my thumb, I felt very strange. I wanted to know if it was me or…” She shivered. “It was the dagger.” She looked up at him. “Why?”

  His expression softened. “I’m not certain, love. He is a sorcerer. That is enough.”

  She nodded and to her surprise, he hugged her tight again. He said nothing, but released her and led her to the stone vault. He grabbed Crowe’s staff and slammed it over his knee. The wood bent, but straightened, unbroken. Gooseflesh crawled up her arms. How was that possible?

  “Bloody staff,” Cailean muttered, and swung it at the wall.

  The ruby bounced off the rock, and the staff flew from his hand and skidded across the stone floor. Cailean stared at the staff for a long moment, then drew his sword and stalked to where it lay. He picked it up and struck the wood. The magnificent blade should have shorn the wood in two. Instead, it bounced off as if striking stone. Cailean hacked at the staff to no avail. He finally sheathed the sword, drew the staff back like a spear and threw it into the water. The staff disappeared with a splash. Cailean started to turn toward her, then halted when the staff shot back up into the air and landed on the stone floor near the vault.

  Cailean looked at the staff, then turned his gaze to her and said, “It seems the only way to deal with the damned staff is to kill Crowe.”

  A chill snaked down her back at the icy note in his voice.

  He picked up the staff and placed it back in the vault, then pushed the door closed and faced her. “Do ye know where those falls are located?”

  “They are Reay Falls,” she said. “It is half a mile from Gregory and our men.”

  “I’ll take you out that way.”

  “What of Lennox? We cannae leave him.”

  “He would be the first to insist that we get you to safety before I go looking for him. I can return through the falls and search for him.”

  She shook her head. “I willnae leave him.”

  “Julianna—”

  “Crowe and Father Andrew are gone,” she interrupted. “It seems unlikely they will return. It should be safe enough for us to search for him. We must find him.”

  “I am here.”

  Julianna whirled to face her brother. Relief flooded through her. “Lennox, I am so glad to see ye.”

  “I saw Crowe and Father Andrew in the tunnels.” He strode up to them. “They were here?”

  “Aye.” Cailean pointed to the wall. “They have a secret vault. But we’ll tell you more after we get Julianna out of here.”

  “I killed the man chasing me.” Lennox indicated the rowboat. “I suggest we leave on that rowboat. When we reach Gregory, we will send someone back for Kyle.”

  Cailean nodded. “Ye read my mind.”

  They boarded the rowboat and rejoined Gregory an hour later. Once they were far enough from the abbey that Lennox felt safe stopping. They ordered the men to stay, then walked far enough to escape eavesdroppers. Cailean and Julianna told Lennox what had happened while Julianna sat on a rock to remove her shoes and warm her feet.

  “Crowe
said he was in Heatheredge when Alex was a boy? This is strange business.” Lennox regarded Cailean. “Ye saw Crowe performing magic, but Julianna didnae see it?”

  “Just me,” Cailean said.

  “There was a red glow,” Julianna said. “What was that, Cailean?”

  “The stone on the staff glowed,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. “Sweet Jesu’.”

  Lennox snorted. “No one will believe the tale. Christ, I cannae fathom it myself. I suspect that if Crowe performed magic in front of all of Heatheredge some would still say it never happened. The man is an eel.”

  “He said he would make ye disappear, Cailean. What do he mean?” Julianna asked. “He had something to do with Agnes and Malcolm’s disappearances, did he no’? Bruce, as well. Bruce worked as Father’s head stable master for over thirty years. I never believed he simply ran away. Now ye know I wasnae mistaken, Lennox, when I told ye that he made his staff disappear.”

  Lennox shrugged. “Black magic is one thing. Making a man disappear is another. We must speak with Alex. God only knows what Crowe would tell him if someone is no’ there to counsel him otherwise.”

  “Crowe can’t hurt me,” Cailean said.

  “Ye are a fool if you believe that,” Lennox said. “He may no’ be able to make ye disappear, as he says, but he can have ye hanged—and dinnae think he can no’ make it seem as if you have disappeared. Julianna isnae wrong. Three others have disappeared. Dead or magic, they are still gone.”

  “Cailean cannae go before Crowe at Heatheredge Tower,” Julianna said.

  “He can’t make me disappear,” Cailean said.

  “But—”

  “Wait,” he cut her off. “What I mean is, I think he needs an athame.”

  She frowned and he realized she didn’t understand.

  “An athame is a tool used to direct energy,” he said.

  Then she understood. “The dagger.”

  “The dagger,” he agreed.

  She turned to Lennox. “Ye must go to Alex.”

  “Lennox shook his head. “Not I.”

  Julianna knew what he was about to say. She shook her head.

  He nodded. “Aye. Father must go.”