by Donna Grant
He had asked his father once if the curse would ever end. Unfortunately, his father didn’t have an answer, and Elric was afraid there wasn’t one.
“I don’t think you’ll find what you seek standing out here.”
Elric slowly turned his head to see who had dared to interrupt his private musings. What he saw gave him pause. He straightened from the building and turned to face the man. Long flaxen hair hung down the middle of the man’s back and was held away from his face by several rows of tiny braids. But it was his unusual shimmering blue eyes that alerted Elric he was standing before a Fae.
The Fae smiled. “I’m glad you know what I am. As for the who? You may call me Aimery. I am commander of the Fae army and here to aid you.”
“Aid me? I didna think anyone was allowed to help us.”
Aimery smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. That’s when Elric noticed the Fae’s curious clothes. The tunic and pants, though typical of the time, were not made of the coarse wool or even the finer material of the gentry. The fabric was unlike anything Elric had ever seen or would ever see.
“I’m not supposed to help,” Aimery said as though Elric wasn’t staring at his clothing. “However, drastic times call for drastic measures.”
“I doona understand.”
Aimery sighed and let his arms fall to his side. “I know. Elric, you’ve searched for many years, and your time is running out. You should’ve found your mate by now.”
“I know.” Elric knew he should show the Fae more respect, but he wasn’t telling Elric anything he didn’t already know.
“You haven’t found her because she isn’t here.”
Elric felt as if someone had knocked his feet out from underneath him. “What do you mean she isna here?”
“Exactly that. Your mate is not in this time.”
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the inn. Of all the things he thought could go wrong to hinder him, this hadn’t been one of them. He had been as certain as the sunrise that their mates were in Scotland, they just had to find them.
“Where in time is she?” Elric managed to croak out as he opened his eyes to gaze at Aimery.
“Many years into the future.”
“Then I’ve failed since I can no’ reach her.”
Aimery grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. “That’s where I come in.”
Elric looked sideways at the Fae. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because when someone or something meddles, I like to make sure things are righted as they should be.”
“Are you going to bring her here?”
Aimery shook his head, his smile fading quickly. “Nay, Elric. You’ll go to her. It will be up to you to convince her to leave behind her world and travel back in time.”
Elric swallowed hard, defeat a bitter taste in his mouth. He had known it wouldn’t be easy to persuade his mate to return with him to his secret and hidden kingdom, but now he had the added pressure of convincing her to leave her time behind. An impossible task just grew more difficult.
But for his family, for his people, he would do whatever it took to find his mate. He longed to know her, to look into her eyes and know she was the one woman in all the world that was meant only for him.
He looked Aimery in the eye and nodded, determination filling him. “When do I leave?”
“Now. We can’t waste any more time,” Aimery said as he turned on his heel and began to walk out of the tiny village. “Your mate traveled to Scotland and is only visiting for a short while.”
“Do you know anything else of her?” Elric asked. He knew better than to ask Aimery to describe her. It was up to Elric to determine who his soul mate was. He would know it as soon as he saw her, but explaining it would be difficult.
“Aye.”
When Aimery didn’t say more Elric realized he could ask all the questions he wanted, but the Fae commander wouldn’t share any more with him. He was fine with it though, after all, Elric was known for his seduction.
Chapter Three
Present Day Scotland
Three months after Jamaica
Marin clapped along to the bagpipes as a group of local women danced a Highland jig. A smile pulled at her lips as she watched the villagers laughing and dancing.
“Now aren’t you glad you came?” Rhonda asked, a knowing smile on her cute heart-shaped face.
Marin laughed as her friend was grabbed by a passing man and pulled into the throng of dancers. Rhonda’s short red curls bounced as she followed the movements of the others.
Rhonda had been at the airport waiting as soon as Marin returned to Houston from Jamaica. No words were needed between the two as Marin walked into her friend’s arms and let her tears flow. Rhonda had been a rock. Had it not been for her, Marin didn’t know how she would have survived the past couple of months.
Though the more time that passed, the more Marin found herself grateful that she wasn’t married to Johnny. It felt good – right even – to make her own decisions again. She’d thrown out all the clothes she hated but that Johnny had insisted she wear. Next was buying the makeup she loved to wear, and eating whatever food she wanted to again.
It had been…liberating.
Being left at the altar was devastating, but finding herself again had been…liberating.
“Good afternoon, lass,” a handsome Scot said as he walked by, appreciation in his dark eyes.
Marin let her eyes roam over the tall man. His blonde hair was cut short and spiked on top, and his face was tanned, suggesting he spent a lot of time outdoors. The dark tartan of his kilt complimented his rugged features.
“He’s interested,” Rhonda said as she returned to Marin’s side.
“But I’m not. He’s cute, I’ll grant you that, but I need some time before I dive back into those waters. Besides, we won’t be here long.”
Rhonda rolled her eyes and sighed. “At least you aren’t pining over Johnny, that shithead.”
Marin laughed. Leave it to Rhonda to tell it like it was. “You know I’m not. I was hurt he left me, but I know I’m better off without him.”
“Amen!”
“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to find another man.”
“Sweetie,” Rhonda said as she wrapped her arm around Marin’s shoulders. “No one said you had to have a relationship. Have a little fun with the handsome Scot with an accent that makes my knees weak. Besides, I think getting back in the saddle will remind you how fun it is to have a man who treats you right.”
“Maybe you should be the one having a little fun with him.”
Rhonda squeezed her shoulders. “You’re not going to turn into a man-hater, are you?”
This time Marin rolled her eyes as she turned her head to look at her best friend. “Nope. I quite like men. I’m just easing my way into those waters.”
“Girl, you’re so far away from those waters you can’t even see them.”
Marin laughed and took a drink of her ale. She was still getting used to drinking it warm, but she liked it.
Rhonda dropped her arm and looked at the ground. “I should’ve gone with you.”
Marin didn’t need to ask what she was talking about. They’d had this talk several times, and no matter how many times she told Rhonda it was all right, her friend still felt responsible. It wasn’t Rhonda’s fault she worked for the largest private investigative company in Houston and landed a huge client two days before Marin left for Jamaica.
But Rhonda’s job had allowed her to find Johnny for Marin. The weasel hadn’t planned on marrying Marin in Jamaica. It seemed that a week before he accepted a job in St. Louis and boxed everything up and shipped it. As soon as they had arrived in Jamaica, he turned around and went back to the airport to take a return flight to the States.
Rhonda had found Johnny so Marin could confront him. At first she’d been too numb, and then afterwards she just didn’t care. With Johnny out of her life, everything came into focus again. She remembered her dreams, the things
she wanted that somehow had been forgotten. In order to get those things, she had to forget the past. She had to forget Johnny.
“I need another ale,” she said suddenly. “I didn’t expect to like this as much as I do.”
“Want me to get it?” Rhonda asked over the music.
Marin noticed her friend and the hunky Scot eyeing each other. “I think I can handle it,” she said, then laughed when she realized Rhonda wasn’t even listening.
She walked to the “bar” they had set up outside. Though the festival was outside and most of the natives had on just a thin long sleeve shirt and pants or kilt, Marin had a thick wool sweater she had bought the day before and a coat. And she was still cold.
“Wish I’d have bought the gloves and scarf as well,” she said as she blew into her hands.
The temperature was quite different from the hot, humid weather of southeast Texas. With a smile, she paid the bartender for the ale, then turned around to look for Rhonda. She wasn’t surprised to see her friend talking to the handsome Scot. Marin looked around the quaint little town and the ruins of a great castle high up on the hill.
History had never been a subject she enjoyed, but she found herself intrigued with the ruins and the ancient people of Scotland. The more she stared at the ruins, the more she found herself drawn to them.
“A new day, a new life,” she said as she started walking to the ruins for a closer inspection.
* * * *
Elric didn’t know what to expect when Aimery said they would travel through time, but he wasn’t prepared for being hurled through a dark space with sound so loud he thought he might never hear again. He didn’t question Aimery when the Fae told him to keep his eyes closed.
And as soon as it began, it stopped.
“Open your eyes,” he heard Aimery say from beside him.
Elric slowly cracked his eyes open, expecting to still be tumbling head over heels as he was sure he had been just moments ago, yet he stood still and straight.
“Look through the doorway.”
Still a little disoriented, Elric did as Aimery commanded and found himself looking through what seemed to be an oval entry way that shimmered like the waters of a loch. Except these waters were clear, and as he gazed through it he found himself watching several groups of people celebrating.
“You’re in the year 2013,” Aimery explained. “The Scots of this time still celebrate the Scottish heritage. They love to wear their kilts, which I’ve made sure you have to fit in.”
Elric swallowed and glanced down to find his tunic and trews gone and replaced by a kilt. “It’s rather…freeing. When do my countrymen begin to wear these?”
“Around the seventeen century. You’ll get used to it.”
“Already have.” He grasped his sword. “They doona wear weapons.”
“Many things have changed. You should leave your sword with me, but I’m afraid you might need it.”
It was something in Aimery’s voice that caught his attention. He tore his gaze from the oval to the Fae. “Need it for what?”
“The Tnargs.”
Elric’s entire body shuddered. “They’re real?”
“Very much so. One attacked Lucian when he returned to Drahcir.”
“You spoke to Lucian? Why didna you say so? Is he all right? Did he make it?”
“Yes. You didn’t ask, and yes and yes,” Aimery said him with a small smile. The smile dropped suddenly. “Be vigilant. If I knew your mate was in another time, chances are, the Tnargs do as well.”
Elric nodded and stepped toward the shimmering wall of water only to have Aimery stop him with a hand on his shoulder. “When you and your mate are ready to leave, return to this spot. The doorway will be hidden, but if you know what you’re looking for, you’ll be able to use it. Don’t step through unless you have your mate for I cannot take you back to her world again.”
With a deep breath, Elric regarded Aimery for a moment. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Just return with your mate,” Aimery said.
Without another word, Elric stepped through the doorway. He anticipated being drenched, but it was as if the water wasn’t there, only a mirage. He scanned the crowded valley below as he tried to get a feel for the time.
Bagpipes sounded around him as a group of people danced and sang. Another group was crowded around different makeshift shops as they hawked their wares. The last group was near a structure that sold only liquids, and if Elric knew anything about his countrymen, he knew they were drinking ale.
A smile pulled at his lips. A large tankard of ale sounded delicious, but he wanted to look around the area first. No one seemed to have noticed that he appeared out of nowhere, and he wanted it kept that way.
Aimery had been right. Most of the men wore kilts, but it was the women who surprised him. Gone were the gowns that molded to their curves, and in their place were thick shirts that hung limply on their forms and tight pants that gave a hint to their backsides.
Elric had always been kidded by his brothers that he was a traditionalist, and in this case, he was. He didn’t like the clothes worn by the women and hoped his mate wore something less…distasteful.
People nodded and smiled as he passed them. He hoped Aimery brought him to the town in which his mate was so that he didn’t have to travel this Scotland in search of her. But he wasn’t taking any chances. He would search the festival first, and then if he didn’t find her, he would search the surrounding villages.
As he passed a tall Scotsman with blond hair that he had cut too short on top and a woman with short red curls, he noticed how both stared at him. He gave a nod of hello and continued on but felt their stares long after he had passed.
It didn’t take long to walk the festival and search the women. None were his mate. The disappointment that welled up inside threatened to choke him. He breathed in the Highland air and lifted his face to the sky. The sun broke through the thick clouds and gave some warmth to the ever-increasing chill.
Elric found his gaze drawn to the old ruins of a castle. “What has this time come to if they let a castle fall?” he murmured to himself.
It took men scores of years to build the mammoth structures, and it was a sad sight to see it destroyed. Just as he was about to turn away, he spotted a lone figure atop the hill gazing at the castle. The sun was behind her, silhouetting her as her long dark hair lifted in the wind.
A fission of awareness snaked down Elric’s spine. His blood quickened as he gazed at the woman. He began to move toward her. The closer he got, the faster his heart beat. Could it be after all these years he had finally found his mate? Could it really be that easy?
He walked around her so that he would come up from behind. He wanted more time to study her, to gather his thoughts on what he would say. At one time he had planned everything out, down to the last sentence of what he would say to his mate. Yet now as he approached her, he couldn’t recall anything of his speech.
A gust of wind whipped around him as he reached the top of the hill. He watched as she wrapped her arms around herself in a bid for warmth. Her wavy auburn hair danced about her head as she stared at the castle. He couldn’t tell much about her figure through the thick, bulky clothes she wore, much to his disappointment.
Just as Elric was about to approach, another man walked up and tried to talk to her. It was obvious from the man’s staggering and slurred speech that he had imbibed too much.
“A pretty lass such as yerself doesna need to be alone,” he said.
She turned her head toward the man and Elric got a closer view of her profile. “Thank you for the offer of company, but I’m fine.”
Her accent intrigued him. Aimery had said she was visiting Scotland, but from where, Elric had no idea.
“Ah, an American,” the man said and moved closer.
Elric didn’t know what an ‘American’ was, but he didn’t like how close the man was to her. He walked closer in case he needed to protect her.
“Please,” she said and turned her face from him. “I thank you for the hospitality, but I just want to be alone.”
“I can no’ do that.”
Elric had had enough. With his tone soft and unthreatening he said, “Listen to the woman and leave her alone.”
His gaze was drawn to the woman when she faced him. With his breath locked in his lungs, he stared into her oval face, memorizing every detail from her high cheek bones, small chin, and plump kissable lips. Her skin was the color of cream, her eyes a beautiful hazel mix of soft brown and dark green.
He was entranced, captivated.
Fascinated.
* * * *
Marin heard the second male voice behind her and turned to face the newcomer. By his easy tone she wasn’t expecting the very viral, very handsome man before her. If there was ever a picture in the dictionary beside the word warrior, it would be this man.
He was the definition of rugged Highlander. Though he sported a kilt, it was a little different from the rest of the Scots at the festival. And the white shirt beneath it certainly wasn’t the polyester blend the others wore. In fact, it looked rather…authentic. Marin swallowed when she noticed the sword at his hip. By the way his hand casually rested on the hilt, he knew how to use the weapon. And it wasn’t there for show.
Her gaze jerked back to his face, and her mouth went dry. She’d heard about instant lust before, but until that moment had no idea what it was. One look at the Scot and she couldn’t catch her breath.
His mahogany locks hung well past his shoulders, making him even more striking. She’d always had a thing for men with long hair, and this Highlander pulled it off to perfection.
Her eyes roamed over his face to find a high forehead along with a small dent in his nose that suggested it had been broken. His cheeks were hollow, his mouth sinfully wide with the bottom lip fuller than the top. Dark brows slashed over his green eyes, the same vibrant green as the grass and trees.
Marin tried to swallow as she noted his wide shoulders and the thick sinew she glimpsed as he turned to her unwanted visitor.