Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (66 page)

“What does this mean?” Dallan asked, warily.

Angus scratched his head and sighed. “It means we eat now, get ye dressed and go to a concert.”

Dallan raised a brow.

Angus smiled. “It also means ye can wear yer kilt, lad.” His eyes narrowed. “And yer weapons.”

Dallan nodded. Things were indeed far from over.

Place me like a seal over your heart,

Like a seal on your arm;

For love is as strong as death,

Its jealousy unyielding as the grave.

It burns like
blazing fi
re, like a mighty fl
ame.

Many waters cannot quench love
;

Rivers cannot wash it away.

If one were to give all the wealth of his house for love,

It would be utterly scorned.

Song of Songs 8:6-7

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“Well
,
you two look like remnants of the last war. What happened?
  A few beasts play tug of war with your clothes?
” Brennan’s voice, though amused, came out a hiss.

Graves took a deep breath. “I’m still not sure.”

Brennan looked calmly from one black-and-blue form to the other. “Well, I am.” He walked to a table, picked up a newspaper and threw it to land at their feet. “The next time I give you a task to complete, try to be a little more discreet when you fail!”

Graves and Kent exchanged a quick look before
glancing to the paper on the fl
oor before them.

The front page stared back.

“Nothing to say, gentlemen? In this case, I should hope not. It’s bad enough you botched this up, but I had my own little confrontation to contend with earlier today, and it would have been nice if you’d been around rather than wasting valuable time being bested by a boy!”

“He was no boy, sir,” Kent volunteered.

“I know. I also know you should have been able to handle the situation.” Brennan sat in a chair, crossed his legs and stared coldly at the two men. “I trust you packed evening wear?”

Graves nodded for both of them.

“Good. We are to attend the symphony tonight and I don’t want anything to go wrong this time. No interruptions. I will be with the Whittards and Julia. Your job is to keep anyone and everyone away from us until the concert is over.”

“What about what you said before? The earlier confrontation?” Kent
asked, cringing slightly.

“Oh, that,” Brennan sighed. “An old friend from times past paid me a visit.” He chuckled to himself, “He’s still a fool.”

   
Graves, genuinely curious as to why the man still lived,
retrieved the paper from the fl
oor and asked, “What do you mean? He may be trouble. Why don’t we take care of him?”

Brennan grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “He owed me a debt. I decided to collect it. I saved his life o
nce a long time ago. He has gra
ciously agreed as payment not to interfere with what I came to do. A fool’s bargain.”

“What makes you think he will keep it?” Graves asked, wincing as he took off his torn jacket.

“As uncivilized as the man is, he still has enough honor to hold up his end. And I will thoroughly enjoy watching him squirm beneath his warrior’s codes and Azurti eth
ics. I’m going to make him suff
er as much as possible.”

Kent began to painfully peel out of his own
'lion-
rent
'
clothing. “How?”

Brennan smiled up at him wickedly. “Unbeknownst to him, I’ve already taken almost everything he holds dear. And now, I will take what little he has left.” He smiled again, this time to himself, as he stroked his neatly trimmed beard. “His two most prized possessions.”

* * *

“Gee, I wish I could go with you. I love the symphony!” Kitty zipped up the back of Shona’s dress then stepped back. “Turn around.”

Shona turned, the green skirt of her dress making a loud swishing sound as she did.

“Wow, you look great!” Kitty chirped and gave a little clap of her hands.
New clothes, even if not hers, made everything seem normal again.
“Do you think he’ll go?”

Shona smoothed the ankle-length satin and began to look for her shoes. “He will come.”

“I hope so. Your dad is sure worried.”

Shona slipped her shoes on and sat wearily upon her bed, her dress rustling loudly. “I know. So am I.” She threw Kitty a hopeless look. “I have never been so confused in my entire life.”

Kitty plopped down next to her. “Your dad knows what he’s doing, Shona. Trust him.”

“I do, but he still has not explained to me what is going on. All I know is that something is wrong with Philip and that Dallan is… well… Dad wants me to leave with him in the morning if not sooner. But he has not told me where to or why.”

“Dallan? That’s his name? Oh that’s a great name. I’ve never heard it before.”

“Neither have I.” Shona smiled. “He is Scottish, Kitty.”

“Scottish? You mean with the accent and everything?”

Shona nodded and sighed heavily. She was tired, weary and… hungry.

“Where is Dallan going to take you?”

“Dad never told me. He only said he wanted me to go with Dallan to get me away from Philip.”

“If your dad doesn’t want you around Philip, then why are all of you going out with him tonight?”

“I do not know. I did, however, overhear Dad telling Mother he wanted us all to be together one last time, even if it did mean with Philip.”

“He makes it sound as if you’re never coming back.”

 
Shona looked to Kitty again with a worried expression. “Kitty, what if you are right?”

“How can that be? Why wouldn’t you come home?”

“I
do not know. But I intend to fi
nd out.” Shona stood, checked her dress and freshly braided hair one last time, then headed for the door. “Let us go. The sooner this night is over, the sooner I will know what is going on. I hope.”

Kitty followed her friend downstairs, her intuition already telling her what both women refused to believe.

Once taken by Dallan, Shona would never come home.

* * *

Dallan gave his coat a fi
nal tug, adjusted the plaid draped over one shoulder and then stood straight for inspection. Angus eyed him carefully, making slight adjustments to the Scot’s attire where needed, then stepped back to take in his handiwork. “Aye, ye look grand, lad. Verra grand indeed.”

Lany stared appreciatively at the proud Weapons Master, perfectly at home with the elaborate display he wore. Angus had dressed Dallan in full highland rig-out. “How did you get your hands on all this, Angus?”

“Zara. She and I thought the lad ought to be married in this. ‘Tis his wedding clothes he wears. He’ll ha’ no time to change, so he might as well wear them now.”

Dallan looked down at Angus, surprise and pleasure mixed into his expression. “I thank ye, Angus.
‘Tis a fine plaid, a might fi
ne one.”

“Picked it out
meself
.” Angus beamed. “Wasna easy to get a MacDonald plaid. Had to go to Glencoe twice.”

“Twice?” Lany asked bemused.

“Aye, the blasted heathen kept getting the date wrong. Did ye ken they outlawed the wearing of kilts in the eighteenth century? Forgot all about that.”

Dallan stood in awe, eyes wide. “Ye went to my home to fetch this?”

Angus beamed.
“Aye, laddie. And it looked fi
ne. Yer grandfather’s house still stood, though he and yer family had been long since gone.”

Dallan bowed his head a moment and whispered to himself in Gaelic.

John stepped forward fo
r the fi
rst time and smiled. “He’s not over-dressed?”

“Nay, Lord John. There will be other folk
there dressed like the lad. Th
e
entire orchestra is kilted. ‘Twas so last summer when they came here to perform.”

John smiled again, as did Lany.

Angus shrugged. “I never miss anything from home, gentlemen.” He smoothed his own kilt and brushed the shoulders of his coat with his hand. “Are we ready?”

John looked around. “Kwaku?”

“He and Zara will catch up later,” Lany replied. “
Th
ey’ll be around. Don’t worry.”

John took a calming breath before looking up at Dallan. “Brennan
will
more than likely challenge you.”

“Then Brennan will no longer live, John.”

“Just make sure the Maiden is kept safe. That’s all you have to do. I don’t
think Brennan intends to take her yet. He’s hardly in a position to now, not with a full bonding already in place. But let’s not take any chances.”

“Kwaku didn’t give any input?” Lany asked his voice heavy with concern.

“He was too worried about Zara. I think he left the garden before we did. He should be done feeding her by now.”

“Again?” Lany and Angus exclaimed in unison.

Dallan took in Lany’s amusement and Angus’s disgust. “Why d’ye always make such a fuss over a man taking a meal with his wife? I grant it’s the heathen, but I ha’ seen the man eat. He’s no a savage with his food.”

Angus grumbled while John smiled, biting his lip. Lany shook his head, stepped to Dallan and put his arm around him. “Dallan, there’s something I bet you’ve wondered about for years.”

Dallan glared fi
rst at him, then the arm draped across his shoulders. “And what might that be?”

Lany beamed. “Why do you think Kwaku is always in such a good mood?”

“Because the man’s a bloody good-for-nothing heathen that doesna ken any better. And he also kens how it aggravates me to no end.”

Lany pressed his lip
s together tightly, his face fi
lled with mischievous anticipation. “No.”

Dallan raised a curious brow.

Lany leaned closer. “The reason is…” he whispered the rest of the
disclosure in Dallan’s ear.

Dallan’s eyes grew wide a
nd his face fell into a horrifi
c scowl. “Ye canna be serious!” He threw his warrior’s stare at everyone i
n the room, searching for conf
i
rmation.

John, Lany and Angus all nodded sagely to him at the same time.

Dallan shook his head in utter disgust. “Och, why the good-for-nothing! So
that’s
why he runs home to the city so bloody fast! Always wondered why the man could be smiling all the time. I never kent he even had a woman until I met the Lady.”

He shook his head one last time before his face suddenly lit with an idea.
Apparently, a very intriguing idea.
He swallowed and put an arm around the Assistant Councilor, giving him a healthy squeeze. “Tell me, Master Lany… what does Shona feed off of?”

Lany stared up at him. “Wipe that look off your face! It’s
not
the same thing Zara does!”

Dallan released him and sighed. “Ye canna blame a man for hoping.”

Lany threw him a bemused look. “Just how much experience do you have?” He turned to John who was biting his lower lip to keep from laughing. “Eaton, I thought you said he was a… mmm…”

“I’m no ashamed of my lack o’ experience, Master Lany. As I sai
d before, today ‘twas not my fi
rst time to ever kiss a woman and I well ken what it’s like to verra much want more.”

Lany merely nodded and let his arm fall to his side. “Okay.”

Dallan however was not through. “Ye never answered my question.
With what does Shona feed her heart?”

Lany looked from John to Angus, both of whom had buried their mouths in their hands. “Well,” he began, his own mouth curving into a smile, his thoughts matching those of his companions. “Can you sing, Dallan?”

Dallan’s eyes widened slightly. “I dinna ken, I’ve never really tried. Sober at any rate.”

Angus exploded into a hysterical display of snorts and chuckles. John merely stood silently shaking with suppressed laughter.

Dallan took in the scene and shot Lany an intimidating glare.

Lany ignored it and put his arm back around the Scot. “Dallan, you’ll just have to learn.”

* * *

“Shona, sit next to me.” Philip took her by the arm and led her to the front row seats of his private box. The concert hall was nearly full, its
occupants in a colorful mixture of evening wear and Highland dress, the latter drawing quite a bit of attention from the former.