by Cyndi Tefft
I scooped a spoonful into my mouth and made a blissful sound, careful not to look directly at Celia. “These are delicious.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Celia pick up a pea with pinched fingers like it was a bug on her plate. With a suspicious glare at me, she popped the evil green orb into her mouth and made a slow, exaggerated chewing motion. I fought to suppress a grin. Score one for me! Helen’s eyes locked with mine in triumph for a moment before a disruption at the door made me turn.
The MacKinnons’ head footman—I think his name was Gerald—was standing ramrod stiff, his lips pressed tight together in barely restrained anger. Two uniformed policemen stood next to him. One of them looked strangely familiar to me, though I couldn’t imagine why. His clothes hung on his bony frame like he had no more muscle than a hanger, and his beady eyes scanned the room before stopping to rest on Aiden. He tilted his head toward his partner and whispered something out of the side of his mouth that was obviously about Aiden. The other officer, whose shirt barely covered the round expanse of his stomach, nodded and began to move forward.
Mark MacKinnon stood up sharply, his chair scraping against the floor. “And what is the meaning of this?” The authority in his voice made no mistake who was the head of this house.
The fat one replied, “My apologies to you, sir, but Officer Campbell and I have orders to take one Aiden MacRae in for questioning, and I understand him to be staying at your house.”
Gasps across the table echoed in the stillness of the room. All eyes snapped to Aiden, who had become completely still.
“And you are?”
“Officer Murray, sir, at your service.” He straightened, making the girth of his belly even more pronounced.
“It’s Christmas Eve, gentlemen. Certainly our American guest deserves a couple days with his family to enjoy the holiday, as do we all. I can assure you that he will remain here until the day after Christmas, at which time you may return to fulfill your duties.” The finality of his statement brooked no argument. Mark nodded to the footman, who placed himself between the policeman and the table, one arm outstretched toward the door.
“Begging your pardon, but we’ve strict orders and we—” Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a piercing scream to my right. Celia was in hysterics, purple faced and screeching, waving frantically at me. I leaned toward her to try and calm her down and heard Mark yell, “Joanne!” My head whipped around to find Joanne MacKinnon slumped in her chair, her eyes glassy and fixed at some point on the ceiling. She didn’t appear to be breathing.
The room exploded in a riot of noise as people left their seats to attend to Joanne, who was non-responsive. The policemen took advantage of the chaos and pressed past the footman. The one called Campbell grabbed Aiden’s arm and yanked him to his feet.
Mark shot the officer a venomous glare. “Don’t touch him. And get off my property. Now.”
Aiden shook his head. “I’ll go. Attend to your wife.” And with that, they slipped out the door. People were crowding around Joanne or coming to help calm Celia, trapping me in the chaos. Pushing past them with as much sensitivity as I could muster, I dragged my way toward the door where Aiden had left, feeling like I had chains on my feet. Running through the long hallway that led to the main entrance, I started to panic. Where were they taking him? Did they figure it out? Was it the passport? I shouldn’t have brought him here. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
The footman tried to stop me leaving. “You really shouldn’t…”
“Get out of my way!” I screamed at him and he hastily moved to hold the door open for me. A blast of freezing cold air knocked me back for a second, as my brain caught up with my feet. I hadn’t even thought to bring a coat and it was well below freezing outside. Adrenaline pumped through my blood, holding the worst at bay, and I ran as fast as I could toward them.
Turning the corner around the building, I found them in the parking lot next to the fence that edged the property. Aiden wasn’t resisting, but the policeman’s fingers were clearly digging into his arm.
“Wait!” I yelled. Aiden jerked to a stop.
“Go back to your family, miss,” the fat one said gruffly, though his face held a hint of shame.
“He is my family. I’m his wife.” My breath came out in puffs of white smoke. The air stung my lungs and stars danced at the edge of my vision. I couldn’t take a deep breath. “What did he do? What are the charges against him?”
Officer Campbell moved toward me and all of a sudden, it hit me where I’d seen him before. When we arrived in Edinburgh, the customs officer named Robert had leered at me, telling his partner in Gaelic that he’d like to wear my ass as a hat. It was a good thing Aiden hadn’t provided the translation until we were out of earshot, because I wanted to claw his creepy face off. And now that face was looking right at me. But we weren’t anywhere close to Edinburgh now. What was going on?
“Robert?” I asked and his eyes widened a fraction.
“My brother is Robert and aye, he’s the one who alerted us of your husband’s questionable passport.” And by the tone of his voice, ‘questionable’ clearly meant ‘fake’.
I took a step toward Aiden and Robert’s brother moved behind me, his arms snaking around my body. His breath was warm on my ear as he whispered, “He also told me what a lovely lass you are and I have to agree.”
Officer Murray had turned to place a hand on Aiden’s head to press him into the back of the car, so he didn’t see Campbell’s hand come up and squeeze my breast.
But Aiden did.
With a roar, he broke free of the policeman’s grasp and charged toward Campbell. He wrenched the man off me. “Get your hands off my wife.”
I pulled Aiden away from the policemen, back toward the fence, feeling the crunch of snow under my feet as we got close to the edge. Swinging around in front of him to break his eye contact with the asshole who’d grabbed me, I put both hands on his cheeks and shouted his name.
“Aiden! It’s okay, I’m okay.”
His eyes flew open wide as he focused over my shoulder. “What are you—”
An electric spasm ripped through my body as the taser prongs pierced my clothing. My muscles seized up and I lost all control of my body, pulsing in agony. I flopped forward against Aiden. He circled his arms to try and stay upright, but the snow was slick under his feet, and he couldn’t keep his balance with my dead weight flung against him. We crashed backward through the fence and toppled over the edge of the cliff toward the icy waters below.
The last memory I have is of falling through empty space with Aiden’s scream ringing in my ears.
Chapter 6
Complete darkness engulfed me. The sensation of falling had abruptly ceased, replaced by a soft, floating feeling. I flung my arms out in front of me, blindly trying to make contact with something, anything, to orient myself. My feet touched ground.
Aiden? Are you there? Even in my head, my voice wobbled with panic.
I’m here, but I can’t see you. Are ye hurt? He sounded near and far away at the same time. I couldn’t make sense of it.
Blinking rapidly, hoping my eyes would adjust enough to capture some light in the black void around me, I took a tentative step forward. Strong arms found me, held me, caressed me. I clung to him like a drowning woman.
“What’s happening? Why can’t I see?”
Aiden’s hands wandered over my body, through my hair, tracing the contours of my face like he was memorizing the shape of me. I took a hiccupping breath and noticed that his natural woodsy scent was gone, replaced by something unfamiliar.
“Don’t be afraid,” a deep voice whispered. It didn’t sound like Aiden.
I shoved against him. “Who are you? Where are we?”
Though it was impossible to see, I felt his grin. “I am your lover and you are right where I want you to be, precious. Now let us see who emerges the victor, shall we?”
Before my brain could process what that could possibly mean, I was falling
again.
***
I hit the ground with a thud, landing hard on my right shoulder. Pain lanced down my side as I rolled to a stop. Sharp edges of wiry grass bit at my face as I struggled to right myself. Light burned my eyes and I instinctively clamped them shut to protect myself. I pushed my hair out of my face and took a deep breath, then tried again, squinting to let just a fraction of light in this time. Blurry shapes and shadows were all I could make out, which only added to the panic clawing inside me.
Aiden! I screamed in my mind, but he didn’t respond.
Questions whirled through my brain like a tornado: Am I dead? Is he dead? Did I die and he lived? Did he come forward after three hundred years, only to be left on Earth alone? What have I done? Where the hell am I?
Oh, God. It was my stupid fault. I knocked us off the cliff. I sent us hurtling to our death, or my death, or what?
“This can’t be happening!” I wanted to scream, but I was so beyond freaked out that only a squeak came out. Pressing my hands to my eyes, wishing I could see clearly, I tried to make sense of the madness. If I’m dead and Aiden’s not, will I be able to hear him the way that he could hear me before? But wait, after we fell, he said he couldn’t see me, that he was in the dark. So maybe he died, too. But if he did, where is he? And why won’t he answer me?
The acrid scent of cannon smoke assaulted my nostrils, making my lungs burn. Cannon smoke? I recognized the smell from the day of Aiden’s death, when the English had blown up the castle with the Scots’ gunpowder and Aiden had taken his own life.
Confusion pummeled me from all sides. If I was dead, why would I cast this scene?
Casting! I just about smacked myself on the forehead.
Taking a deep breath, I envisioned the beautiful meadow where I’d first met Aiden, and waited for the familiar shimmer to pass through me to indicate that I’d changed the environment.
Nothing happened.
An explosion of cannon fire to my left made me jump. I raced to try it again. Still nothing.
My arm ached where I’d landed on it—another mystery. If I was dead, nothing should hurt, right? It didn’t the first time. I reached up to massage my shoulder. The fabric under my hand was coarse, thick, unfamiliar. The intense brightness that had stolen my vision began to recede. I looked down at myself and saw that my jeans and sweater were replaced by a drab, eighteenth-century wool dress. Did Aiden cast me in this? Why would he do that? And if he did, where was he?
Tears pooled in my eyes while I fought to keep hold of my sanity.
I stood up with some difficulty, as the heavy skirts felt odd, tugging at my hips, the corset tight around my chest. The scene before me was just as I’d remembered: three English warships in the loch, the castle on fire, debris from the explosion littering the ground. I swung my gaze from side to side, looking for Aiden. When he’d been my transporter, he’d always been beside me, looking over the scene like a ghost, unable to touch or interact with anyone but me. But now, he was nowhere to be found.
I was caught in this reenactment of his worst memory, alone.
Squinting through the smoke, I spied Aiden’s bleeding body lying crumpled next to a boulder at the water’s edge. Instinctively, I moved toward him, my dense skirts and the uneven ground making it impossible to walk quickly. I knew I couldn’t touch him. I knew I couldn’t affect anything that had happened in the past. I knew my hand would pass right through, but I reached for him anyway.
My fingers landed on hot, solid flesh.
I jerked back like he’d burned me. My palm was covered in his blood. What in the hell? Everything I knew about the Between realm was turned upside down. I couldn’t cast, I couldn’t find my transporter guide, and now this.
Aiden’s groan snapped me out of my shock. He was reaching for his pistol. Instantly, I knew what he intended to do. He was going to load the gun, point it at his temple, and pull the trigger. The last time I was here, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I couldn’t touch him. I couldn’t stop it. I just had to stand there and watch it happen.
Not this time.
I yanked the pistol of out of his grasp and buried it in the waistband of my skirts. Aiden swore and tried to focus bleary eyes on me. There was no recognition there, but his face was riddled with pain and he seemed to be going in and out of consciousness.
Now what?
A bullet whizzed past us and, for the first time, it occurred to me that the English soldiers could see me, too. Holy crap! I had to get us out of there. Only, I had no idea where to go, since Aiden’s memory had abruptly ceased the last time I’d seen this. A small white building stood down the hill a bit, and I decided to carry him there, out of the path of the soldiers, until I could figure out what to do next. My heart hammered against the corset squeezing my ribs. With my fingernails biting into my palms, I made another attempt at casting, praying that this craziness would end and that Aiden would come back to me.
It didn’t work.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a thin, red-haired boy in a kilt darting across the field to hide behind a tree. I recognized him instantly: Willie, Aiden’s younger brother.
Only, it couldn’t be him! Willie is dead, I told myself. I saw him die. I…well, I didn’t see it, exactly. But he was the only one guarding the cellar door when Aiden came out to chase the Spaniard who had betrayed them all. Aiden had given Willie a dagger and showed him how to use it to kill an enemy. Two Englishmen had crossed the lake and made it to the castle, but only one had come out. I thought for sure that meant Willie had taken one out and been killed in the process. But maybe not. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Willie had escaped. My heart leapt with joy at the thought, and I started to call out to him. A hard yank on my skirt distracted me.
“Give me back my pistol, ye thief!” Aiden’s voice was loud enough to be heard by the soldiers. Another bullet flew past us.
Shit, I had to get him out of there. Grabbing Aiden underneath the arms, I tried to drag him, but he weighed a ton. I could hardly move him an inch by myself.
“Willie!” I called out as loudly as I dared, hoping he would hear.
His astonished face peered around the tree at me. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Never mind that right now. Come help me get your brother to safety.” He hesitated and my patience completely snapped. “Now, dammit! Or I’m going to come over there and beat your scrawny ass!”
Apparently recognizing a woman at her limit, he scrambled across the ground to my side and took Aiden’s other arm. The two of us dragged him to the outbuilding, which I now recognized as the church we’d once run toward, laughing and chasing one another. My heart squeezed painfully at the memory, but I shoved the emotion aside. I couldn’t think about that now. For whatever reason, I was in Between again, but it was not the realm I knew. And though I was relieved to be able to save Aiden from shooting himself, I had absolutely no idea what to do next. Part of me wanted to believe it was all just some terrible hallucination, that none of this was happening, but the pain in my shoulder was all too real, as was the blood streaming over my wrists from where I supported Aiden.
Willie swung open the door to the church and we carried Aiden inside. Sweat snaked a path between my breasts and it was all I could do to keep from ripping off the infernal corset so I could breathe. Propping Aiden against the closest pew, I dropped down beside him and rubbed my aching shoulder.
Willie pointed his dagger in my face and waved it around like a wand. The exertion of moving Aiden had brought some color back to his cheeks, but his eyes were wild with fear.
“How do ye know my name?” he demanded. “Are ye a spy? But then, why would ye help my brother?”
I felt a rush of sympathy for him. He was just a kid—twelve years old, if I remembered correctly—and his home was nothing more than a smoking cavern of ruins, his brother was bleeding and unconscious, the rest of his family was probably dead, and his only ally was some strange woman who’d just threatened to kick his ass. I wanted
to pull him into my arms and comfort him, to tell him everything was going be all right. But everything was clearly not all right and with Aiden half-dead at my feet, I couldn’t spare the time to pretend like it was.
“Put that away,” I ordered, waving a hand in dismissal. “I’m his wife.”
Willie’s face scrunched up in angry disbelief. “You lie! My brother is not married.”
“Yes, he is! Twice over as a matter of fact and I’m getting pretty damn sick of having to justify that.” A growl of frustration ripped out of my throat. I was really starting to lose it. “Look, I’ll explain everything later, I promise, but right now we have to think.” I stood up and rubbed my eyes to try and reset my brain. “Bandages. We need bandages. We have to stop the bleeding.” Willie helplessly shook his head, but he did at least tuck the dagger into his kilt. “Maybe I can make a tourniquet with the hem of my skirt. That’s what they always do in books.” Ignoring Willie’s perplexed expression, I bent down to examine the fabric of my underskirt, but Aiden’s voice stopped me.
“Water,” he whispered, smacking his dry lips together. His breathing had become labored and his pupils were dilated. Moving him may have been too much for his body to endure. He’d been shot in the shoulder and pierced through the thigh with a bayonet. Blood covered his body like a crimson cloak. After all this, was I going to lose him anyway? And what would that even mean?
“There’s plenty of water where you’re going, traitor,” a deep voice called from the shadows. A red-coated soldier emerged from a door to the side of the pulpit, his gun trained on us. His steps were calm and measured as he walked toward us. “In fact, I’d venture to say you’ll be fairly sick of it by the time we get to England for your hanging. Perhaps I should just take care of you now.”
Hanging? Oh, God.
But it wasn’t the threat in his words that caused my chest to seize in fear. When he came near enough for me to see his face, my entire world stopped. He was the spitting image of Aiden, only with dark hair and dark eyes.