The Island

by Jill Jones

  How, in less than two days, could he have become so completely captivated by this woman?

  And what in hell was he going to do about it?

  Jack was almost asleep when he heard a familiar ringing. He blinked, focusing on the sound, and realized it was coming from the cellular phone that he’d laid on the desk across the room. Turning on the bedside lamp, he went to answer it.

  His blood chilled when he saw the digital screen. Someone was calling again from Keinadraig. At two o’clock in the morning.

  “Hello?”

  At first there was no response. Then he heard a gutteral voice. “She has betrayed th’ Dragon,” the caller hissed. Jack couldn’t tell whether it was a man or a woman.

  “Who the hell is this?”

  “Soon she will die.”

  Before he could think of anything to say that would keep the caller on the line, it went dead.

  Jack sat on the edge of the bed, vacillating between anger and frustration. Never had he felt so…ill-equipped. He was a stranger in a foreign country with no weapon to rely on, yet he’d assumed responsibility for a woman whose life he may have inadvertently put in danger. He’d vowed to protect her, but from what? In the beginning, he’d thought it was nothing more than her own superstitious fears and naiveté. But after this second call, he knew something more human, and more deadly, stalked Keely.

  He resisted the urge to go to her room to make sure she was all right. After what had transpired earlier, the last thing he needed was to have another close encounter with Keely, especially dressed as she would be now in her nightgown.

  The call had come from Keinadraig. The threat lay there, not in the next room, Jack reasoned. Still, he opened his door and peered down the darkened hallway. Keely’s door was shut, and he heard no sound of distress.

  Reassured, but restless and unable to sleep, he went to his briefcase and took out his small notebook. Sitting at the desk, he filled pages with notations on all that had transpired since he’d left London. He was usually not so negligent. Usually he made notes of an investigation right away in case memory did not serve him accurately. But he’d been sloppy this time.

  Sloppy. Or distracted.

  An hour passed before he made his final note, jotting down the words that had been spoken on the phone. Jack turned out his light and at last fell asleep, exhaustion overcoming restlessness. But it was a troubled sleep. It was not a dragon that stalked his dreams, but rather a beautiful, dark-haired woman in a pink dress, her face one moment flushed with joy, the next pale with fear.

  His own words sifted through the dreamscape. “I will be there for you.” She turned and smiled at him, then vanished into the mists.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alyn Runyon had never before failed to recruit a husband or wife for someone on Keinadraig. As a rule, the generous settlement made with the families of the young men and women, along with the promise of a home and secure income for the imported bride or groom, was enough to lure them away from the small moorland villages where life was hard and wages low.

  On this trip, however, he had not been so fortunate. Mayhap he had been over-selective, for he wanted badly to please his niece, but none of the lads from the nearby towns had the quality one looked for in a prospective Dragoner. Lazy, they’d seemed. Or ill-bred. None could have been considered handsome.

  Runyon was in a foul mood by the time he returned to Penzance to claim the boat the damnable stranger had so boldly stolen from the Dragon’s harbor. He chose to not think about what Erica had told him before he set out on his journey, that Keely had trysted with the man named Jack Knight in the forbidden caves and had spoken at length with him, the two of them hidden away in the grove. That it was Keely, in fact, who had enabled the stranger to leave the island by taking a boat.

  The same way Erica had told him she’d aided Genevieve.

  His mood turned even darker. He must find a husband for Keely. In her present state of mind, she was dangerous. She needed a man to settle her and control her flights of fancy, children to teach her responsibility. He must find a mate for her, and soon, before she did something foolish, like question the laws of the Dragon.

  As Genevieve had done.

  A sharp pain of remorse cut through him, and Alyn Runyon stopped by the side of the street to catch his breath. He still could not believe what had happened. How had it run so out of control? Genevieve had always been a good girl, if a little flighty. Neither he nor Ninian had suspected she would have a problem with training to become the next Healer.

  He resumed his trek, wondering how Ninian was faring. She was one reason he had returned home instead of expanding his search. He was seriously worried about the Healer. Ninian had always been strong, able to face with courage and tenacity whatever came her way, but when she’d heard the news about Genevieve, she had come completely undone.

  Runyon himself was still in shock over it. He had never meant for things to get so out of hand. But it was the work of the Dragon, he told himself, heading toward the docks. It was not his fault, but Genevieve’s. She defied her mother and betrayed the Dragon, and for that, she died.

  The boat was where the stranger had left it, still tied securely to the dock. He was almost ready to step into it when he spied Kevin Spearman leaning against the wall of his boat rental office. Spearman looked alarmed and anxious. Runyon frowned. He was not supposed to speak with this man in public. But Spearman leaned forward and made a noise. “Hsst.”

  “What?” Runyon was alarmed as well now. “Ye’d better know before y’get t’ th’ island,” Spearman said almost in a whisper. He looked around, as if fearing someone might see him. Then he said, “Your niece is gone. Ran away yesterday with that stranger, that investigator fellow.”

  A wave of cold despair washed over the Keeper, and he sagged against a piling. He’d failed again. What a fool he was for thinking the strong-headed girl would obey him. He was glad his sister, Keely’s mother, was no longer alive to witness this shame.

  “Any idea where she went?” he asked, struggling to hide his distress. That she had run away was bad enough, but to have left in the company of a man of the law…

  Outside law.

  “No. But I wrote down the number of th’ license tag on his car. D’ye want it?”

  Despair turned to trepidation. Should he go after Keely? He wanted no part of it, but he would talk it over with Ninian before deciding. “Nay. Ye keep it for now. I will let ye know.”

  Runyon settled heavily into the boat, his heart like a stone in his chest. Where would this all end?

  Ninian’s house was dark when he entered. Erica was nowhere to be seen, for which Runyon was grateful. The girl was a snake of a child, not to be trusted. He didn’t blame Ninian for not wanting her to become Healer after Genevieve’s betrayal. He thought she was wise in her plan for going outside the traditional bloodline and naming Keely instead. He released a heavy sigh. Obviously, that was not to be. God in Heaven, he prayed the odious girl would not become Healer in his own time, for that meant he would have to do her bidding in certain matters. Alyn Runyon would rather die first.

  “Ninian?” he called into the silence. “Ninian? Are ye here?”

  At first he heard nothing in reply, but then thought he detected a shuffling noise from behind the door to the Healer’s bedroom. He opened the door and peered through the gloom. The sight that met his eyes shocked him even more than the news of Keely’s flight. Ninian Sloan had once been a handsome woman, tall, proud, with strong Celtic features and clear green eyes. The old woman who struggled to sit up on the bed was bent and crone-like, with vacant eyes and unkempt white hair that stuck out at odd angles from her head. She looked a lifetime older than her true age. He hurried to her bedside.

  “Ninian, what is wrong? Why are ye…like this?” But he knew. The tragedy that had befallen Genevieve had come as a terrible blow to Ninian. And now losing Keely…

  “They have left us, Alyn,” she croaked. “Both Genny and Keely ha
ve gone. They no longer believed, they no longer loved the Dragon.”

  Scarcely able to stem his own grief, he took one of her hands in his. It felt small and brittle, aged. Once he’d hoped to court this distant cousin, but as she was destined to become Healer and he the Keeper, their union was forbidden by the elders of the Council, who insisted upon a separation between family and duty to the Dragon. They had been young, like Keely and Genevieve, but unlike them, they had obeyed the laws and found others with which to mate. Theirs had not been unhappy lives, but he had never stopped loving her.

  It broke his heart to see her like this and to know it was because of his own terrible misjudgment. In a moment of fury, he’d made a mistake that had destroyed her spirit, and in truth might lead to the downfall of them all. Ninian had forgiven him, or so she had said, but she had not recovered. She had instead taken to her bed, seeking escape from her pain and grief in potion-induced sleep.

  “What shall we do?” he asked.

  Slowly, she turned her eyes on him, and he could tell from the size of her pupils she was under the influence of a powerful physic. She was in such a weakened condition, he wondered that she had the energy to concoct her own medicine.

  “Water,” she murmured. “Please get me water.”

  He brought her a glass and waited while she sipped. She handed it back to him with shaking hands, then said, “We must not let it happen again. Find her, Alyn. Bring her back to Keinadraig. Our ways are not for the world to know.”

  Keely’s heart began to pound with excitement as Jack steered the car into the city of London.

  London!

  She’d seen pictures of London on a sign at the train station in Penzance, but nothing prepared her for the size and speed of the city that ebbed and flowed around her as Jack maneuvered the red vehicle through the traffic. Where could all these people be going in such a hurry? What did they do with their lives?

  Keely had difficulty catching her breath as a new kind of fear crept over her. Not fear of the Dragon—somehow by daylight, here in this new and modern world, superstitions from Keinadraig seemed not so imminently menacing. The fear that clutched at her had more to do with the reality of her situation, and the fact that she was so ill-prepared to fit into this world. Would she be able to adjust to this place? Would she be able to learn, and quickly, what she needed to know in order to be a part of it?

  One thing was certain. She could never do it alone. Thank the Saints she had Jack.

  Or did she?

  After what had happened last night, Keely was unsure of how Jack felt about her.

  Ever since she’d chosen to leave Keinadraig with him, Jack had seemed to be her friend. He had helped her in every way, showing great patience with her ignorance of the outside world and helping her to feel more comfortable among alien surroundings. He had even shared a secret and painful part of his life with her. That could only happen between friends. She had begun to take heart and shed the shell of fear she had carried with her off the island, trusting in him to be her friend. And he had been. Until he had kissed her. And then, he’d pushed her away, his face stormy, and minutes later, he’d left her alone in the silence of her room.

  Keely did not know what to make of that kiss. Even though she had been taught that a woman should not kiss a man who was not her husband, she was not ashamed that she had kissed Jack. It had been the most pleasurable thing she had ever experienced, and she had decided that the old prohibition was just another Dragoner rule she could live without.

  Yet Keely knew little about kissing, and Jack’s caress had stirred a passion in her that troubled as well as delighted her. His touch had sparked a fierce desire somewhere deep within, an unquenched need that had made it nearly impossible to fall asleep after he left. She suspected it had to do with that mysterious process called breeding that her mother and Ninian had explained to her. But although they had described the physical contact it took between a man and a woman to make a child, they had failed to mention the exquisite sensations that came from being held and kissed by a man. Was it like this to kiss any man? Or was it just Jack?

  A horrifying thought occurred to her. Had Jack thought she wanted him to breed with her? Was that why he had broken off the kiss and changed his attitude toward her so abruptly?

  That thought was followed by an even more appalling notion. Is that what would have happened if he had not broken off their kiss?

  Sitting next to Jack in the car, Keely was glad he could not hear her thoughts. Even so, she was so embarrassed, she wished she could become invisible. How could she be so ignorant of the ways of men and women?

  She had made a terrible mistake in returning Jack’s kiss so eagerly. In her ignorance, she had led him to believe the wrong thing about her. She scrunched down in the seat, humiliated, trying furiously to think of a way to set this misunderstanding aright. Keely desperately needed Jack to still be her friend. What would she do if he brought her to London and then just dropped her, leaving her alone in this huge and terrifying city?

  With an effort, she stopped her runaway thoughts. There she went again, letting fear get the better of her. She did not need Jack to be her friend. Keely was strong, and she would survive. No, she wanted Jack to be her friend. In the short time she had known the handsome stranger, she had developed tender feelings for him, feelings that were somehow linked to the breeding and all that, but more so, feelings that made her heart swell when she thought of him. He was kind and caring. He had nurtured her and eased her fears. Jack Knight made a very good friend, and Keely was determined not to let last night’s misunderstanding get in the way.

  She would explain things. And she would not kiss him again. But at that, her outlook turned even bleaker.

  Jack pulled the car into a smaller lane that led beneath a covered entryway to a tall building. “We’re here,” he said. He gave the car keys to a man in oddly decorated attire and came to her side and opened the door.

  “Where are we?” she asked, looking at the wall of glass that rose as high as the sky.

  Although Jack had driven most of the way in silence, his expression remaining impassive and his attitude toward her distant, he softened when he looked at her and gave her a reassuring smile. “London’s version of an inn. It’s our hotel.”

  Genny was found dead in a hotel room in London.

  This hotel?

  She did not ask, but the notion shook her. Straightening to prepare herself for whatever lay ahead, she allowed Jack to take her elbow and escort her through a strange doorway that turned in a circle. Inside the building, the air was crisp and cool, and people wearing the same odd clothing as the man outside bustled about moving large carrying cases. A huge vase of the most unusual flowers she had ever seen stood on a table in the center of the highly polished floor.

  “Wait here,” Jack said, posting her on a large plush seat nearby. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  Keely was suddenly so terrified she could not have gone anywhere if she had wanted to. Her feet were frozen to the shiny stone floor and her limbs seemed made of clay. She had known the outside world would be different, but she’d had no idea how different. She huddled on the chair, trying to catch the breath that seemed to elude her, hoping she would not cry. She felt again like a lost, frightened child.

  Within moments Jack reappeared, and Keely wanted to jump up and throw her arms around him. Instead, she managed to come demurely to her feet. He handed her a small white oblong object. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “A room key.”

  It was the strangest looking key she’d ever seen. “How does it work?”

  “I’ll show you when we get upstairs. By the way,” he added, “they don’t have any extra rooms right now.” He looked none too happy about it. “You’ll be staying with me in my suite until something opens up.”

  At his obvious disappointment at this turn of events, Keely’s spirits fell. It was not proper, she knew, for her to stay with him, and all things considere
d, it was for the best. But she wished he did not look so dismayed about it.

  Before she could suggest that he take her straight to the people he’d said could help her start her new life, he guided her toward a niche in far wall, which to her amazement slid open, revealing a small room. They stepped inside, and Jack touched a circle that magically lit up beneath his finger, illuminating the number six. The door shut behind them, and Jack took her hand, giving her a small smile.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, giving her fingers a squeeze. “You’ll like this. We’re going up.”

  Before she could ask him to explain further, the entire room began to move upward, and Keely cried out and held onto Jack’s hand for dear life.

  “It’s called an elevator,” he told her. “I should have warned you beforehand what was going to happen. It’s like a car, only it takes us up and down in the hotel, rather than across roads and streets.”

  The elevator rose slowly. It emerged from behind some kind of barrier and seemed to continue on its journey floating only on thin air. Keely caught her breath, afraid she might fall, but then she realized the outside wall of the elevator was made of glass. Looking out of it, she saw what looked like an indoor park, with trees and a waterfall, and the people seemed to shrink to the size of ants as they rose.

  The last of her waning courage deserted her. Already lightheaded from the strange breathing attack, Keely saw bright sparks of light dance in her vision, just before she passed out.

  Jack carried Keely off the elevator, ignoring the open stares of the people who were waiting for the lift. He cursed himself for not having warned her about the function of an elevator. He’d obviously scared the bejeesus out of her. He’d have to be more careful. About a lot of things…