Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance)

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Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) Page 20

by Geralyn Beauchamp


  Shona, unfortunately, didn’t quite know what to do when approached and would usually freeze like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi. Thankfully last night, she simply ignored the men, instead being too caught up in the music.

  Highly educated, yes. Musically talented beyond measure, a most definite yes. Refined and ladylike? With the exception of the previous night, double yes. Keen to the ways of the opposite sex?

  Very musically talented.

  * * *

  After two hours of Shona’s bowed head, Kitty’s chirping and Tomy’s “Lordy, Lordys,” the women finally got ready to leave the sanctuary of the library and head directly home. Well, perhaps not directly; Kitty was driving.

  Dallan leaned against a pillar in the main lobby area of the library and watched them descend the wide staircase that led to the upper floors. He stayed back toward the shadows so as not to be seen as they chatted amongst themselves and walked past him toward the double glass doors leading outside.

  The one called Tomy seemed to be the leader of the trio and dominated most of the conversations upstairs. The ‘chirper’ certainly did her share of the talking, if one dared to consider what came out of the lass’s mouth talking. The one John referred to as the Maiden sat with her head bowed the whole time, barely uttering a word, instead engrossed in whatever the Tomy lass had given her before Dallan had moved in for a closer look.

  He left the concealment of the shadows and carefully made his way through the maze of shelves, tables and humming, buzzing, paper-spitting contraptions. He pondered the events of the past few days, not to mention the past few hours, wondering which one to throw in the bloody heathen’s face once he got his hands on him! Kwaku had gotten him into this bizarre predicament; he was going to see to it that the heathen got him out as well.

  Dallan seethed as he went, recollecting all that had happened to him, all that been done to him, since he first found out about the… Muiraran. Drugged by Kwaku in Genis Lee, only to wake up to a nightmare world of metal carriages able to move about on their own and women running around in naught but their shifts. Clubbed over the head with a cane by Mother MacNab, who had to be at least ninety but with the swing of a blacksmith. Lugged about a small apartment and doted over by Angus MacNab, his newest keeper. On top of it all was the horrific amount of sound constantly beating a path to his brain. He’d forgotten what it was like to be in a city, but a noisier, more frightening place he had never known. There was nothing familiar, nothing he could latch onto to strengthen his slipping sanity.

  The only things holding him together were the presence of John Eaton and the burning desire driving him to do things he thought he never would, such as hunt down and capture a wee lass as the heathen insisted. But even Dallan had his limits.

  * * *

  “Well, what do you think?” John asked the Scot as he came surreptitiously down the aisle where the small company had been patiently waiting, in more ways than one. John waited for hope, any sort of hope that would mean the successful end of the assignment.

  Lany waited for Dallan to get a clue as to what was expected of him.

  Angus waited for it all to be over so he and his mother could live out the rest of their days as Zara promised as reward for helping keep watch over the Maiden.

  Kwaku Awahnee waited for lunch.

  Dallan cast John a ‘huh?’ sort of look in response, sending his hopes plummeting.

  “Talk to me, Dallan,” John prompted as he placed himself directly in front of the big Scot who now leaned against a shelf, arms crossed over his chest, a troubled look on his face.

  Dallan picked up the concerned note and offered him his attention at last. “I canna do this, John.”

  John sighed. “Dallan, I’m sorry. I know how you feel about this. But it’s the only way.”

  Dallan’s body tensed.

  “Dallan, please, everything is riding on this. Everything. If you don’t convince the Maiden of who she is, then…”

  “Then what?” Dallan interjected. “What will ye do if I were to walk away from all o’ it right now? Why should I be the one to do this? Why not Master Lany here?” Dallan tossed his head in Lany’s direction, causing him to hold his hands up as if blocking the statement. “Or wee Angus?” he snapped.

  The grizzled old Scot peered up at his countryman with one eye and snorted. “Aye, and what would I do wi’ a wee lassie? I’d be happy to oblige Lord John, but I’m no a young man anymore. Nay, laddie, the job is yours whether ye wants it or not. Besides, you’re the only one that can…”

  “De Boyeee is right.” All heads turned as Kwaku made his way down the aisle. “Why should he be forced to do someding dat he does not want to?”

  Dallan settled himself more comfortably against the shelf before casting the heathen a suspicious glare. “Just what d’ye mean by that?”

  Kwaku shrugged. “It means dat we all go back to Muirara.”

  Dallan stood up straight, his arms now loose at his sides, the action automatically causing the others to back up. They all knew what would happen if Kwaku pushed Dallan too far.

  “And you Boyeee go back to Genis Lee.” Kwaku pierced Dallan with a wicked grin. “To stay wid me… forever.” He chuckled softly.

  Dallan’s jaw twitched as his eyes narrowed. He began to pull his arm back to lay the heathen out, when suddenly his face took on an odd knowing look. He instinctively scanned the aisles, searching. “Nay, not here. Not now…” he whispered then doubled over in pain. “No! John?”

  John was already at the Scot’s side, trying to keep him from falling flat on his face. Angus ran to the other side, and the two men were able to help the Scot to a sitting position. He sat in the middle of the aisle, his back against the many books, breathing as if he’d just run a mile, full out.

  “Calm down, it’s okay, calm down now,” John instructed as he gripped Dallan’s shoulders.

  “John,” Dallan rasped, “it, it’s coming…” He groaned loudly in pain.

  “We’ve got to get out of here, Eaton, fast!” Lany warned, scooting back from the end of the aisle where he placed himself as lookout when he recognized the signs of the Call.

  “Lany’s right,” John agreed looking to Kwaku and then to the end of the aisle. “Somebody help me get him up.” He began to try and lift the Scot.

  “Wait.” Kwaku bent to Dallan, who still sat breathing like a winded horse. “Do you want to go home, Boyeee? Do you want de pain to stop?”

  “Kwaku, what are you doing?" John screetched. "This is not the time or place!”

  Kwaku reached up and put a large hand on the Lord Councilor’s shoulder. “Dis is de time, and dere is no better place.” He then turned his attention back to Dallan. “You, Boyeee, are de only one among us dat has what de Maiden needs. She cannot survive widout it. And you will give it to her. Just as she will give you what you need. Den everyone will have what dey want. De choice is yours. Eidar win de Maiden’s trust, or go back to Genis Lee.”

  Dallan’s breathing had slowed, allowing the rest of the company to hear anxious feet making their way toward their aisle. “Eaton…” Lany urged.

  Dallan stared at Kwaku with murderous rage. “All right then, ye bloody heathen, I’ll play yer foul game and win the wee lassie’s trust for ye. But dinna count on me to do anything…” He doubled over in pain again. “John!”

  “Out of the way! Stand aside! I’m a heal… a doctor!” Lany pushed his way past Kwaku and John and knelt in front of Dallan who was now curled up on the floor. A small crowd of people had gathered at one end of the aisle by now, and gawked at the group, or rather Kwaku, before searching the floor for some other disaster.

  Lany examined Dallan with quick deft moves, impressing even John. He swore his assistant had no healer’s training.

  “Should somebody call 911?” A voice from the crowd suggested.

  Lany poked and prodded Dallan a few more times as he shot Angus a confused look.

  “They mean a hospital, laddie,�
� Angus began, his voice low. “No the place ye wants him if secrecy be yer wish.”

  Lany nodded, clearing his throat. “Um, that won’t be necessary. This man is in no immediate danger. We’d better get him to my…”

  “Office,” Angus whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Office, though. One never can tell if these things are contagious.” As if on cue, Dallan suddenly cried out in pain, clutching his stomach as he did.

  The crowd, as one, backed up.

  Lany’s face contorted and he held his breath. “Someone get him up,” he finally managed through clenched teeth.

  Kwaku stepped forward and bent to the fallen Scot. “You will win de Maiden, Boyeee, yes?” he whispered into his ear with a chuckle.

  “Yessss,” Dallan rasped.

  “Good.” Kwaku stood and promptly left.

  John’s mouth flew open, his face red with rage at the Time Master. “Why that…”

  “Not now, Eaton!” Lany huffed, his own face white from the effects of the Call pulsing through Dallan’s body and into his own. “She’s here.”

  “What?” John squeaked.

  “Get him up and away from these people!”

  “Dallan, can you stand?” John asked urgently.

  “I… I dinna…”

  “You’ve got to try, Dallan, or we’re all in a lot of trouble.” John’s urgency doubled.

  “All right, he’ll be fine.” Lany spoke loudly for the crowd’s benefit, his voice coming out in staccato. “Please, give him some breathing room!” Angus waved the crowd aside as John and Lany helped Dallan to his feet and led him to the nearest chair and table at the end of the aisle.

  A crowd of five or six lingered still eager to witness calamity. “There be nothing to see here today. Be off wi’ ye now!” Angus shooed at them. They slowly left, occasionally looking back. But as there was nothing life-threatening, no blood spilled; the sight would soon be forgotten.

  Dallan doubled over again, groaning and cursing into the hand John had placed over his mouth. “By the Creator, we’ve got to get him out of here!”

  “Leave him.” Kwaku had returned and stood towering over John and Dallan, an unfamiliar serious look on his face. “Leave him now, all of you.”

  “Kwaku…” Lany began.

  “You especially, Mos-go-fi -an. You know she is near. Let her be de one to ease his pain. Den perhaps he will not be so hesitant in approaching her when de time comes.” Kwaku’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Be quick now. De Maiden nears.” He began to usher them away from Dallan, back to the concealment of the shelves.

  “John… dinna leave me…”

  John’s expression tensed at the sound of Dallan’s voice, but he knew as well as Kwaku that there was nothing any of them could do for him.

  Only the Maiden could ease his pain.

  * * *

  Shona approached Dallan from the opposite direction in which Kwaku escorted the rest of the party. She swallowed, unsure of what to do. There was no one else around and this man was obviously in pain. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she would say he was in the same pain she was in at the moment, though it seemed to be disappearing rapidly.

  Shona suddenly stiffened as the pain assaulted her again. The man in the chair also tensed, hands now balled into fists as he turned his eyes to hers.

  Their eyes locked.

  The pain immediately lessened.

  The man’s anguished expression faded as he straightened himself in his chair. He stared at her in bewilderment as if something of great enormity had just made itself clear to him. His eyes gripped her own and clung to them like a lifeline.

  Shona felt her entire body tense, then relax, not knowing how to respond to that look. Oh, if only she hadn’t come back! If only she had gone with Tomy and Kitty to get something to eat. But no, she wanted to come back to the library, finish the math Tomy had given her, get it done so she would have nothing to worry about tomorrow night when the…the… she couldn’t seem to remember what was to happen.

  The man stood up.

  Panic wrapped its ugly fingers around her nerves as every muscle tensed.

  Their only interest in you is your talent and what they can get from you.

  Julia’s words raced through Shona’s mind as raw fear now linked itself with her panic.

  The man took a step toward her, his face intense.

  She rapidly sucked in her breath, still unable to move, her quick breaths now coming out in short pants making her dizzy as the man approached.

  He rushed to her side as she doubled over in pain, but stopped a few feet from her as she struggled to right herself.

  Shona straightened and looked up, way up, to the face of the man in front of her, a face governed at the moment by grave concern. Could it possibly be for her?

  No, not for you. None of them will ever actually care for you. Only what you can do for them.

  She slowly shook her head to rid herself of Julia’s haunting words, words she had heard countless times over the past five years.

  You know it’s true. Don’t trust him. Don’t trust any of them. Except Philip. You know you can trust Philip.

  Shona found she could now move her feet. She knew she should run from this man, run from the library, get as far away as possible. But she could not bring herself to tear her gaze away. The man held her with a simple look just as he had done earlier when he watched her.

  Dallan instinctively backed up to allow her more space, to let her know he posed no threat. The Maiden watched him warily, her eyes filling slowly with an odd combination of fear and recognition.

  As did his.

  * * *

  “Is it too soon for them to recognize each other?” John whispered in Kwaku’s ear as the little company from Muirara, hiding among the nearby stacks, watched Dallan and the Maiden get their first good look at one another.

  Kwaku shook his head. “Too soon, Councilor. De Boyeee balks at her Muiraran blood. See how he refuses to get too close to her?” He said and pointed to Dallan.

  John followed the direction of Kwaku’s finger and saw how Dallan had positioned himself just out of the Maiden’s reach. “I don’t understand. How can he possibly know? No one has told him anything yet.”

  “De Boyeee is pure and very compatible to her inner heart. De heart causes him to balk. He can feel it, but does not yet know what it is. He does not recognize de Maiden just as she does not yet recognize him. But her heart knows, and it will be her heart dat will prompt de bonding. Unless de Boyeee is made of better stuff dan he displays.”

  John looked at Kwaku, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  Kwaku shrugged. “He is boy. She is girl. What is dere to not understand, Councilor?” He chuckled as softly as he could. “He may be more of a man dan I dought. See how he looks at her?”

  John glanced back to the pair staring at each other with confused interest. The Maiden still looked as if she was on the verge of bolting, but Dallan looked less confused and much more interested. He stood, arms loose at his sides, the intense stare he held the Maiden with softening considerably. He then cocked his head to one side and began to take his time studying her. He appeared quite recovered from any recent side effects of the Call, a phenomenon obviously due to his close proximity to the Maiden.

  * * *

  Shona watched the man standing in front of her, heart in her throat, a dull thudding caused it to ache terribly. She wanted to say something, anything that would get him to release the strange hold he had on her. How on earth was he able to do such a thing? Who was he? What was his name? Where did he come from?

  Shona swallowed hard as her hands turned quickly to ice. Her apprehension suddenly grew at a frightening pace, her whole body prepared to flee. Blast! Why was this man affecting her like this?

  The man now moved off to one side, still studying her, and then made his way to the only avenue of escape she had: down the aisle she’d followed to this little area in the first place.


  Shona turned and stared up into the man’s eyes. He gave her a soft look compelling her muscles to relax a notch. He then added a tender smile.

  Hello, it said.

  She sucked in her breath and tried to move away, but didn’t get far before his look changed to concern. He took a small step toward her and held his arms out slightly from his sides, the palms of his hands toward her. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.

  Shona’s eyes widened further as another odd sensation deep inside her responded to the man and his actions, understanding him. She stepped to the other side of the table to put it between them.

  He made the same gesture with his body and hands and gave a small shake of his head for emphasis. I won’t hurt you, please don’t be afraid of me.

  Shona took a deep breath, her muscles relaxing another notch. Their eyes locked, and her body jerked as something inside her took control, something that wanted… out. She pleaded with her eyes to the man; Please let me by. I must leave here.

  The man glanced around before turning back to her, his look changed to tender curiosity. Why?

  Panic slowly crawled up her back. My God, how could this be? How could she possibly understand him? But she did. She knew she did. And he could understand her. My friends, I have to go home. Please, let me go.

  The man’s look softened even more, almost saddened as he stared at her, analyzing her face, memorizing it. He offered another tender smile and stepped aside, motioning to the aisle with one hand. She was free to go.

  Shona gathered her courage and began to slowly walk around the table toward the aisle, her feet stopping involuntarily as she came parallel with the man. She balled her hands into fists but could not fight the urge to look up at him one more time. When their eyes met again, he captured her in his own intense stare. Yet he was not forceful, and some how she knew she could just walk away. The choice was hers.

  She looked up into his bright cat-green eyes and saw something there, something very familiar, though she couldn’t put her finger on what. All she knew at the moment was how it was penetrating her protective walls, as if to make them crack. If she didn’t leave now it would surely be the end of her.

 

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