132114 MAYFAIR
LONDON, ENGLAND A-3241
BEGIN........SHEʼS READY........STOP........060795
“She’s ready. Ready for you, ready for us. Take the chain and the knife from the closet, Philip. I’m hungry…”
Love hath a language of his own—a voice that goes
From heart to heart—whose mystic tone
Love only knows.
Thomas Moore
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Shona sat, hands clutched together in her lap, and forced herself to breathe evenly. She was in the library alone, unusual in itself; she was rarely alone anywhere.
She looked about apprehensively. Nothing. No one. This part of the library at this time of the day was always empty for some reason. It seemed strange to be by herself. She’d felt almost guilty when Kitty dropped her off earlier, but she didn’t have to tell her best friend everything. For instance, she didn’t have to tell her she was hoping to meet again with the mysterious man she’d seen yesterday. A man who understood the simplest action, the slightest look, and whom she could understand in return.
She raised her head suddenly as an unfamiliar sensation crept up her spine. Anticipation? She sat up straighter and searched the rows of books again. Still nothing. She dropped her head and let her shoulders slump in disappointment.
Hello.
Shona spun in her chair. He stood casually leaning against the shelves behind her, wearing the same pair of sweats as yesterday, only now they’d been torn further. The sweatshirt’s elastic waistband had been completely ripped away, allowing the garment to hang wide and loose on his body. She thought it an odd thing to notice, but he looked better with the rent clothing. Rugged. It suited him.
The man looked at her expectantly, gently. She swallowed hard, unable to speak as something seemed to take over. Once again an odd warmth wrapped itself around her throat as if something besides her own voice wanted to speak with him. Something deep inside her.
Shona’s eyes softened as he stood there, hands at his sides, palms turned toward her as the day before. He lifted them slightly. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.
She sucked in a breath. Like yesterday, she could understand him, as if hearing a voice in her head, yet not hearing it. She just knew. She offered him a weak smile. Hello.
He smiled back, stepped away from the shelves and walked to a table opposite hers several feet away. He sat down and continued to look at her gently, his eyes alive with unidentifiable emotion.
She gasped at how easily he captured and made her a prisoner as his face became oddly stern, yet gentle. I won’t let anything happen to you.
Shona’s eyes widened. She swallowed and began to fidget in her chair to fight the hold he had on her.
His eyes narrowed slightly. No, no, no…
Bewilderment covered her face as something inside her reacted to the simple scold, submitting. She sat perfectly still, not wanting to displease him further. The action prompted a warm smile from him and she noticed the dimple on his left cheek. Automatically, she smiled shyly back.
He smiled at her again, a knowing smile. Come here.
She immediately shook her head, eyes wide.
He raised a brow in question. Surely you’re not afraid? His face became somber, his head straight. I won’t hurt you, I promise. The man’s face softened as his eyes reached across the tables to hold her. Nay, little one, I could never hurt you.
Shona’s breath suddenly left, her heart caught in her throat as he wrapped his gaze around her. It was a gentle embrace, and though she couldn’t breathe or feel her own heart beat, she felt strangely peaceful, secure. Safe.
Why did you come?
Shona’s mouth opened, but her voice had traveled deep inside her, speaking from her heart. I had to come.
Why?
I do not know why, but I had to come.
He smiled at her, a rich, warm smile. As did I. He nodded his head and looked away from her briefly, taking the security of his gaze with him.
What is wrong?
He turned to her. Why are we here? How can I understand you? How can you hear me?
Shona shook her head helplessly. I do not know.
He sighed, then placed his forearms on the table resting them there. Weel, let us make the best o’ it then, eh?
Her eyes widened. What she just heard, felt, seemed clearer, yet was strange, as if his thoughts had an accent. Make the… best of it?
He smiled again, his dimple deepening.
Shona shook her head and looked away from him. No, no I do not understand this. It frightens me. This cannot be happening, it cannot! This is not possible. She looked back to him, “I cannot really hear you, can I?” She mouthed the last words, no sound escaping, but the communication they had shared was now clearly broken.
He suddenly stood, his hands flat on the table and leaned toward her. A desperate look governed his face and his eyes quickly captured her own.
She gasped at the suddenness of it and froze as he slowly sat.
He swallowed, his eyes fusing them together even harder. Please, talk to me.
Though the spell had been broken only briefly, it was enough. Fear engulfed Shona as Julia’s warnings erupted to crush what she had just shared with this man. He will hurt you, he will do bad things to you, he doesn’t care about you. None of them will ever care about you. To them you are nothing, a possession to be bought and sold. Merely a prize and no more.
She choked back her fear and quickly stood. Oh, why had she come? It was just like Julia said. Who was she trying to fool? None of this was real. How could it be real?
The man stood slowly, carefully.
Pain, Shona, they will cause you great pain. You will never survive the pain, Shona. They will hurt you, hurt you, hurt you!
The man came slowly around the table, never taking his eyes off her. He continued his strange hold, head slightly cocked, eyes now filled with pain.
Shona shook her own head and began to tremble.
He again motioned with his hands, brow raised, eyes pleading. Please sit down. Dinna leave yet. I wilna hurt ye.
Her legs suddenly weakened, not from fear, but from the security of his gaze. Unable and unwilling to fight him, she let herself be magically embraced and sat again, calmed by the look on the man’s face. A tender, protective look. A safe look. One able to snuff out Julia’s words.
Shona leaned back in her chair to put more distance between them. The action prompted a light smile from him, one of understanding. His eyes then gripped her harder.
Shona, knowing herself defeated and utterly trapped, sighed weakly.
So did he.
She cocked her head, wondering what was wrong.
He cocked his head as well, but playfully.
She sent him a bemused look and tilted her head the opposite way.
As did he.
Shona smiled. Ah, a game. She raised a single eyebrow at him to confirm.
He copied the action.
Feeling braver, she ever so slowly raised the other one.
He again copied her.
She sat a moment, thinking.
He lowered his brow, waiting.
Her mind made up, Shona sat straight in her chair, leaned forward, craned her neck, and for lack of a better idea, quickly stuck her tongue out.
He copied the action and crossed his eyes to boot…
* * *
“Eaton, is he doing what I think he’s doing?” Lany’s voice was low, as their concealment was sparse.
John tried his best not to laugh as he reluctantly tore his gaze from the couple seated several rows away. “He’s flirting, Lany. Didn’t you ever flirt this way with Cari?”
“Well, not that way.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Did you do this with Anwen?” Lany teased.
“Of course.”
“Crossed eyes and all?”
John looked back to Dallan, who now had his unbound hair pulled out
to either side of his head with his hands and appeared to be trying to touch his nose with his tongue. “Worse.”
Lany glanced at Dallan and did a double take. “What could be worse than that?”
John looked his assistant right in the eye with the most serious Lord Councilor’s face he could muster. “I crammed an entire daisy up my nose once. All for the sake of love.”
Lany shook with barely suppressed laughter. "Oh, I'm definitely going to have to ask Anwen about that!" He peeked again at the couple.
“Why doesn’t he take her hand or something?” Lany whispered. “It couldn’t hurt at this point. I mean, see the starry look she’s giving him?”
John laughed quietly. “He’s afraid of her.”
Lany sat up straight, a stunned look on his face, his mouth half open.
“Kwaku says he can sense her Muiraran blood and heart, but doesn’t know what it is yet. Don’t worry, he’ll come around. Zara told me once he touches her, it’ll be all over. Her heart will fully waken.”
“C’mon Dallan, touch her then!”
“Patience, Lany.”
“Right.” Lany pressed his lips together as he turned his attention back to the couple. “The Maiden seemed pretty upset a while ago. What do you think that was about?”
John never took his eyes off the couple as they quietly gazed at each other. “I don’t know. Kwaku and Zara will be back today. We’ll have to see what they’ve come up with. There have definitely been things going on none of us were aware of."
Lany shook his head. “I should have gone with them. I bet I know where I could find out a few things.
“I need you here.”
“I know.”
John finally looked at him. “I told Zara to check the old records, as far back as one thousand years.”
Lany’s eyes grew wide as he smiled broadly.
John chuckled. “I still remember my assistant days and a few of my sources. Don’t worry. They’ll find out what they need to on this Dawson woman. I definitely want to know if she and the woman you saw at STAN'S the other night are one in the same. By the way, you’ve called her to confirm our interview this evening?”
“Five o’clock. Having a chance to question the Maiden should prove interesting to say the least.”
“Indeed it will. If we can get her away from Dallan long enough that is!”
They both laughed quietly before turning back to watch Dallan MacDonald silently court the Muiraran Maiden.
* * *
Dallan’s head was bent to his chest his eyes fixed on the lass, holding her. He knew his look was intense, but he was curious as to how much she could take. She matched his look and posture, though not as boldly as expected, as if waiting to see what he would do next.
He lifted his head and smiled at her, giving in. It pleased him to see the corners of her mouth tug upward shyly. He softened his look. They had stopped communicating by the Saints-only-knew-what-method and he for one felt less shaken, it having unnerved him enough the day before. He didn’t want to go through that again when she left him this time. Besides, he’d used this form of communication often enough and knew he was good at it. What made it even better was the fact the lass was so easy to read.
He smiled at her tenderly, his eyes filling with concern. Such easy prey, so innocent and open, so… unprotected.
Dallan’s jaw twitched at the thought. How could she possibly save so many? What did she possess that was so important? And if it was so important, why did she not know about it?
Answers. No one thought it necessary he have any.
He decided to see if she would perhaps play another game. He put his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, and let go a long sigh.
She did not follow suit, but sat there, eyes wide, her gaze still locked with his, yet seeing something else as well. He studied her more closely.
Fear. She had fear in her eyes, but not because of him.
Dallan gently extracted his gaze, releasing her. She immediately looked down at the table and froze.
He looked around and saw nothing, yet the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Again he scanned the area. Still no one except John and Master Lany hiding behind a low bookshelf, but they were of no concern at the moment. He knew they had been there all along, and he didn’t mind.
He stood, walked to the nearest aisle, and suspiciously peered down it. Nothing, yet his feeling of warning would not leave. He looked to the lass at the table. She still sat as before frozen in place, head bent low, looking as if she might flee. He decided to see if John sensed anything and chanced leaving her a moment, but not before he let her know.
Dallan bent over the table to draw her attention. She slowly raised her face, looked quickly around, then swallowed hard.
He gave her a concerned look, mixed with the gentle sternness he’d created for her earlier. He pointed to where John and Lany hid, indicating with a combination of hand signals he would be over there and come right back. He knew she would understand even without the gestures.
She swallowed again and gave him the barest of nods, her hands now gripping the seat of her chair. Dallan’s brow furrowed in concern and he again glanced around before heading over to the Councilor’s hiding spot.
John and Lany peeked over the shelf as he approached. “What is it? What’s wrong?” John whispered as his eyes immediately sought the Maiden. “Is she all right?”
“I dinna ken,” Dallan whispered back. “Something frightens her, but I canna figure out what.”
“Keep your head low, Eaton. You don’t want her to see you.”
John glanced at his assistant. “Right.” He slouched down in his chair, as did Lany. “What could be bothering her?”
Lany looked around as if searching, yet seemed to be waiting instead.
“What is it?” Dallan asked. “D’ye ken what’s wrong?” He glanced back to the Maiden.
She was gone. “No…”
John sat up suddenly at the look of panic on Dallan’s face. “What?” He and Lany followed the Weapons Master’s gaze.
“Uh oh, where’d she go?” Lany whispered in apprehension.
“I don’t like this,” John said as he stood. “Spread out, find her. There’s some thing wrong here.”
* * *
Shona quietly hurried down another aisle, her panic driving her deeper into the library’s maze of shelves, tables and partitions. She didn’t quite understand what drove her, only that she had to either get out of the building or hide. She’d been through this before: the prickly sense of warning, the cold chill of fear that raced up her back, the undeniable knowledge that they were close by. Hunting.
For her.
She ran down yet another aisle, fear confusing her sense of direction, so she stopped. Her eyes searched, muscles tensing, her body prepared to react to the slightest sound. She promised herself if they ever bothered her again, she wouldn’t freeze. Not this time. This time she’d fight them. Fight with words. She was good with words and this was a public place; she could scream if she really needed to, or if worse came to worse, fight them off physically, the way she wanted to last time.
Shona raised her eyes to the top of the shelves and listened intently. She heard nothing but knew they were there. She could feel them, sense them, all but taste their presence in the building, and hadn’t the slightest idea how. She just did.
And they were getting closer…
She swallowed back her panic, ran to the end of the aisle and stopped short when it emptied at a dead end. She turned and began to hurriedly head back the other way.
“Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep and we know where to find her…”
The low raspy voice carried through the books surrounding her. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out as the muscles in her legs locked. She stood glued to the spot.
Another voice, this one mocking, sarcastic, ugly. “Where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are.”
Her knees nearly buckled as she balled
her trembling hands into fists. She should have stayed with the man, she knew she should have stayed with him. But what if he was with them? She hadn’t thought of that before. And she had sat with him for who knows how long pretending she could hear him, imagining he spoke to her. But it was nothing. It was just like Julia said it would always be. Or was it?
They don’t care about you, Shona. All they will do is hurt you. Men are bad, ugly, violent. They will use you and then hurt you. All except Philip. You know you can trust Philip. He would never hurt you, Shona. He loves you, he’ll care for you, he can keep all the others away from you. He will come for you one day and when he does, you will…
Shona nearly cried out and covered her ears. Julia’s overwhelming words always surfaced at odd times, as if triggered to control her, making her freeze. Making her helpless.
“Little Bo Peep, we’ve found your sheep and let this be a reminder, that all lost sheep are naught but meat, meant only for those that find her…”
They were in the next aisle over, coming closer. She had to fight to make her legs move. The books dug into her back as she slid along the shelves, too frightened to push away from the scant protection.
“Anybody hungry?” The third voice was raspy and deep. She knew there would be three. There were always three, the same three. And she knew what they wanted…
Maybe she wasn’t boxed in, maybe there was another aisle around the corner. If not, the books would be her only protection. Her voice had left her again. Help me, oh, please help me! They are coming for me, they will hurt me again, don’t let them hurt me again…
* * *
Dallan spun in mid aisle, practically knocking John over as he headed back the other way.
“What? What is it now?”
Dallan ignored him as he picked up speed, his surroundings a blur. He turned suddenly to take yet a different route, one none of them had traversed, and made his legs move faster.
He could hear her.
“Dallan? What is it?” John had to trot to keep up.
Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) Page 22