Dark Rival (22 page)

A short while later, Royce extended his hand to help her up the last part of the treacherous ascent. They passed through the narrow, high walls of a barbican over a lowered drawbridge and through a large, circular gate tower. Allie found herself inside an inner bailey, the walls of the castle to her left, the walls to her right containing a lower ward. The inner ward was busy and Allie was now used to the sight of Highland men and women coming and going, often accompanied by livestock, the men usually well armed. As they approached another gatehouse, a tall dark man stepped out.

Royce smiled. "Hallo a Chalium."

The man grinned, striding forward, impossibly more muscular than Royce, and even an inch or two taller. Allie did a double-take because he was so utterly gorgeous. "Ruari." He embraced Royce briefly.

Allie watched Royce and his nephew, gladdened by their obvious bond of affection and caring. He was not entirely alone in this world even without her, and that pleased her immensely.

"I see yer watch is on their toes," Royce said.

"Aye. Ye wouldn't be happy waitin' for my bridge to go down."

Malcolm turned his dark, interested gaze upon her. “An’ who's yer guest?”

Allie was surprised when Royce took her arm, almost possessively, guiding her forward. ''Meet Lady Ailios, Malcolm. Ailios, my nephew."

Allie extended her hand. "Hi. It's Allie. Allie Monroe."

Malcolm's gaze flickered and he glanced down at her feet. Allie suspected he knew she was from the future, but wasn't sure why he was looking at her toes.

Royce murmured. "He's looking for some sign—like yer bejeweled shoes."

She was wearing her jeweled Giuseppe Zanotti sandals, as they were the only low-heeled shoes Aidan had brought her. Allie smiled and lifted her skirt, and Malcolm chuckled at the sight of her sandals and jeans. "Welcome to Dunroch. Ye must meet my wife." He turned to Royce, his gaze filled with speculation. "Do ye wish a word with me alone?”

"Aye. I have a great favor to ask ye."

Allie knew what that favor would be and she tensed. He was going to ask Malcolm to protect her from Moffat, so he could return to his dark, solitary, tormented life.

"Ask. Ye ken I willna deny ye.” Malcolm gestured at Allie and she walked with both men through the gatehouse and into a small courtyard filled with flowers and shrubs. Instantly she knew the gardens were Malcolm's wife's work.

And the moment she stepped into Dunroch's large great room, Allie saw a tall, auburn-haired woman in jeans. She was thrilled—and relieved.

The woman was at the table—with a laptop computer! The moment they entered, she slammed the lid down, flushing, as if caught in a grave transgression. ''Malcolm! You didn't tell me we had guests" she cried, standing.

"Dinna fear,” Malcolm said softly.

The striking woman looked at him and Allie knew they were silently communicating. Then her eyes widened and she looked at Allie in surprise.

Allie smiled, her heart racing. "Hey, I'm Allie. You must be Malcolm's wife, Claire." She strode forward and held out her hand.

The woman took it, towering over her—she had to be five foot ten or so—and smiled warmly. "Hello! This is such a surprise." She looked at Royce with some confusion, and then back at Allie, this time dissecting her features. Then she turned back to Royce, her gaze wide with speculation and interest.

"Hallo a Chlaire," Royce said with a genuine smile.

Claire smiled back. "Hallo a Ruari.”

"We'll be outside," Malcolm said, and both men left.

Allie stared after Royce and was rewarded with a single, backward glance. She hoped she saw regret in his eyes, but he only nodded.

Then she turned, pulling the god-awful caftan over her head and laying it on the table. Claire made a sound. Allie saw her staring at her skinny jeans and tiny top and trying to hide a smile. "Well…this is interesting. How is Royce, er, doing, these days?"

“Mr. Medieval? Oh, same old, same old—bossy, arrogant, a jerk and a tyrant." Allie smiled at her. "I so hope you and I will get along because I need a friend.”

Claire laughed. "Royce must sweat bullets every time you walk into the room."

Allie blushed. "He's pretty attracted."

Claire just looked at her. "And you're in love?”

Allie felt her smile fade. "Is it that obvious?"

"No, it's not, but Royce is a handsome, powerful man. Men like him and Malcolm do not exist in twenty-first century, at least, not openly." Claire took her hand. "Come and sit...tell me everything."

Allie sat down with her and Claire called for wine. “I was hoping," Allie said, suddenly nervous, "that you could tell me everything."

Claire looked at her, puzzled.

Allie gave in to a moment of doubt and despair. "What is wrong with him?" she exclaimed. "One minute he can be kind, the next cold and even cruel! But I love him—even though no sane woman should love a medieval man, ever!"

Claire sat up. "When I met Malcolm, I was insanely attracted to him. But I've studied medieval history, and I knew—I knew—it would never work. It was like he was from Mars, while I’m from New York City."

Allie smiled just a little.

"Even so, it did work. Malcolm and I fell in love and we've worked out our differences—we still do." But then Claire said, “Royce is one of the hardest men I know."

Allie felt a pang of fear.

“I’m not sure," Claire said slowly, “that it's a good idea to fall too deeply for him."

"Too late," Allie said.

Claire toot a breath. "Want to start from the beginning? I'll help If I can."

"I fell in love with him in 2007—in the span of twenty-four hours. And then a demon murdered him.”

Comprehension filled Claire's eyes. "You must have fallen in love with an older Royce—because he's not dead now.”

"His fourteen-hundred-year-old self and then some," Allie said. "He's got exactly five hundred and seventy-seven years left."

A maid appeared with bread, cheese and wine. Claire thanked her and the maid inclined her head, murmuring, "My lady" before casting a quick, curious glance at Allie.

"You seem to have adjusted really well to the whole demonic thing. It took me a while—I was freaked out to learn evil was a race," Claire said when the maid was gone.

Allie shook her head. "I've been fighting demons for years, since I was a kid.” Claire started. “But I'm a Healer first and last. I only fight because they get in the way of my healing."

"I thought I felt a power coming from you," Claire said, eyes wide.

"Healing is my destiny. I can heal pretty much anyone, anytime," Allie said seriously. ''It's what I’m meant to do." Then she thought of the young girl she’d tried to bring back to life—and the modern Royce, dying in her arms. "But I can't raise the dead."

A pause fell. “How did you wind up here?"

Allie sighed. "I fell in love with Royce in my time. When he died, I conned Aidan into taking me back here, to him in the past. It s a huge coincidence, but when I first met Royce, he'd come from 1430, and Aidan had followed him. So when Aidan went home, I went with him." She added, "Royce was awful when I first got here. But then we saved a boy from a rockslide and we fought demons together and we even made love. Now I don't want to go home. I can't go back to a future without Royce. And I can't leave Mr. Medieval behind, either. He needs me—they both do."

Claire was wide-eyed. “So you are planning to stay in the fifteenth century?"

Allie hesitated. "For now. The only thing I'm certain of is that I have to figure out how to vanquish Moffat so he doesn't murder Royce on
September 7, 2007
."

Claire gasped. “The bishop of Moffat murdered Royce?"

Allie tensed. "And he may be after me. How bad is he?"

"Bad. Extremely ambitious and well-connected—he claims a distant kinship with the Queen. And he is power-mad. I guess the deamhanain want to turn you—or force you to use your power for their ends."

“I can't be turned," Allie said, meaning it.

"Allie, you don't want to go head-to-head with Moffat."

"No, I don't. You sound as if you're speaking from experience."

"In a way, I am. Malcolm and I vanquished the earl of Moray, against all odds. He'd preyed on Innocence in Alba for a thousand years, but somehow, we did it, together. However, that was after he took me prisoner. It's something I prefer to forget."

"I'm sorry," Allie whispered.

A strange look passed across Claire's face as she reached for the jug of wine. "How about a glass of wine?"

"Sure. What is it?" Allie asked with some alarm. "Why does the name Moray still bring dread and fear to your eyes?”

Claire grimaced. “I sometimes dream about him. Three years ago I wasn't even sure we'd vanquished him—I expected him to come back. But everyone said that even if he did, he’d leave Malcolm and me alone—we. Ye too powerful and he'd avoid that kind of
 
confrontation again. We're even more powerful now," Claire added. “Three years ago Malcolm was now to his powers, and I didn't even know I had any."

Allie had a bad feeling, too. ''You don't believe he's gone"

Claire hesitated. "It's not Malcolm or myself I worry about."

"Then who?"

"Aidan."

Allie jerked. “Why would you worry about Aidan."

Claire was surprised. "No one told you," Malcolm and Aidan share the same mother, but not the same father. He is Moray's son."

Allie could not believe that Aidan was the son of a demon. "He's a Master."

"Yes, he is. But in case you haven't noticed, he is a bit of a renegade. I worry about him. That charming facade hides a lot of conflict," Claire said. "On the surface he seems like a playboy who can't help gratifying himself, but he will always come through for the gods, for Innocence. He is afraid, Allie, afraid of what his father's legacy to him might be."

Allie absorbed that. "Well, his aura isn't evil and if it's even slightly tainted, I haven't noticed." She was firm. But his power was different—she'd sensed that, but hadn't really understood it. She let it go. It didn't matter—he was her Knight of Swords.

“If you worship the gods," Claire said, "then you believe in Fate."

Allie knew where she was leading. “I do. But it is not Royce’s Fate to die in 2007. That was a mistake."

Claire was silent, clearly not believing her.

"I know all about the dumb Code," Allie added. "I'm not a Master and I have no intention of following the rules."

Claire smiled. "I'm not a Master, either just the daughter of one. How can I help?"

Allie leaned forward eagerly. "Just think about how to best vanquish Moffat now, so he can't murder Royce in 2007. He was dressed in modern clothes—he might have been a modern man, too." And the only reason she couldn't be certain was that the medieval Aidan ran around in Levi's when he chose.

"Let's hope he was from the future," Claire said softly, "so we can destroy him now and save Royce then."

Allie was so relieved to have an ally. ''I hate to ask you, but maybe you shouldn't mention this to your husband. I have no idea what happens when a Master breaks the rules, but he might not be on our side."

Claire laughed. “He's always on my side, but don't worry, I won't say anything until I have to.''

Allie hesitated. She'd come to Dunroch for assistance, which she was getting, but she also needed answers. "Royce was afraid of your relationship with Malcolm at first."

"He told you that?"

"Yeah, he did."

Claire said, “Royce is a very hardened soldier, Allie. He's lived through centuries, and he's seen it all."

"Is that a warning?"

"You could have picked someone easier to love."

Allie almost smiled. "No kidding." Then she spoke seriously. "Maybe the reason Royce is so hard and cold—acid so alone—is his past and his wife."

"I know he was married, but it was long ago, and I don't know any details."

Their gazes met. “Damn," Allie said. “I know that something terrible happened to his wife and he is still suffering because of it."

Claire said softly. "Ask Malcolm.”

ALLIE FOUND MALCOLM outside with Royce, standing on the ramparts looking out over the Atlantic Ocean. She paused. The two men, standing above her in their leines and plaids, with the sun trying to emerge from the windswept, gray skies, were a magnificent sight. Her heart turned over a dozen times as she stared at Royce. Why didn't he want to be healed? And she wondered if his pain had something to do with his willingness to die in the future. It was a startling and dismal thought.

He turned and glanced down at her.

Allie hurried up the stone steps. “Hi." She smiled at both men. "Am I interrupting?"

Malcolm seemed bemused, but Royce looked wary. "Lady Allie, we have finished our conversation." He clasped Royce's arm. “Yer woman wishes a word with me I think."

Royce's gaze slid over Allied top and jeans. "Dinna think to seduce him to yer cause. He's very fond o’ his wife."

Allie smiled at him. ''You're my cause. And the only man I wish to seduce," she added.

Royce scowled.

"Besides, I really like it here. I am going to think of this as a vacation, Iona is a mile or two from here. It's holy ground and Claire has already offered to take me there." They hadn't even discussed it. "So even if you change your mind, I can't go back to Carrick with you,” she lied lightly. "Not, yet.”

Royce appeared alarmed. He flushed. "Malcolm has agreed ye can stay at Dunroch. There’ll be no visits to the Sanctuary."

Allie was taken aback. This was odd—and interesting. Why would Royce refuse to allow her a visit? Iona was holy. Her mother had lived there for centuries.

"She stays here," Royce said to Malcolm, as if his nephew were a foot soldier. Until I decide otherwise." He leapt down the first few steps and then leapt again into the ward.

Malcolm chuckled.

"What was that about?" Allie asked, remaining bewildered. But now, she shivered. It was freezing high up on the walls, exposed to the blasting Atlantic winds.

"He be jealous. Green, in fact.” Malcolm laughed again, guiding her down the stairs.

"He’s jealous of what? A bunch of monks worshiping the Ancients?"