Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (27 page)

Shona wanted to shake her head, but couldn’t seem to remember how. Frustration began to take hold. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

Julia leaned forward. “You like Philip, don’t you?”

Shona was about to take another breath but Julia’s words stopped her. Did she like Philip? She had not seen him in such a long time. But Julia said that she liked him, so maybe she did. How could she like someone she couldn’t even remember? What did he look like? Where was he from? But she must like him. Julia said so.

“Yes, you like him, don’t you? You want to see him again.” Julia’s voice cooed seductively
. “He’s the only one, Shona. Th
e others are bad. They’ll
hurt you, you know. They don’t care about you the way Philip does.”

Does Philip care? Shona wasn’t sure. When had she seen Philip last? Three years? Five? Perhaps more. She couldn’t remember. But she did like him. Didn’t she?

“You know what the others will do
to you. Remember the three? Th
e
three who came after you near the library?
They wanted to hurt you didn’t they? They don’t care about you. Not the way Philip does. He would never hurt you, Shona. Never.”

Shona was barely aware of the fact she was shaking her head. But was she agreeing or disagreeing? She stared at Julia, trying to focus, her
eyesight blurred. She had a fl
oating sensation, her mind and body still not connecting with one another. Julia’s words were the only solid thing in the room.

Julia leaned forward again. “Philip will come for you soon, and when he does you will do whatever he says, won’t you? When he asks you to subm
it, you will.” Her voice was fi
rm, controlled.

Shona stared at her, the words penetrating,
the
identity of the speaker fading. Philip was coming soon. What was she to do? Why was she to do what he told her? But she liked him, didn’t she? So shouldn’t she be able to trust him?

Shona blinked her eyes a few times
,
surprised she was able to
. A woman’s face faded in and out of her vision. Who was she? And where was Philip? Wasn’t he supposed to come take her to the zoo? Hadn’t they gone there the last time he came? Or was it the ice rink? She was just a little girl. Was she a little girl now? What did he look like? If only she could remember…

An image began to form, distorted, reformed. A man. Was it Philip? The image became cl
earer, more distinct. Yes, defi
nitely a man.
Blonde hair, brown eyes.
Philip? Yes, Philip…

The image changed as something within her suddenly came to life. She threw her head back and moaned silently.

The image of Philip was ripped apart by the thing inside her. Its fragments dissolved instantly as tremors of fear beat against her, trying to get out. Another image pushed itself forward, replacing Philip’s.

Shona screamed silently, closed her eyes, and opened them again.

The woman wasn’t there anymore. The little boy was now painted
onto her vision
scape, taking over
the room, fi
lling her eyes, her mind. He pleaded with her, begged her to see him. And indeed she could see him, and feel him as well.
A distinct presence.

At that moment something stirred deep inside her heart, as if waking.

Shona moaned, the sound unfamiliar to her own ears, then yelped in surprise as she felt a sharp pinch of pain on her right arm. She tried to pull away but someone held her in place. She began to panic. “
Nooo
…” The word barely managed to escape before a hand clapped itself over her mouth. She struggled, but it was no use, there were too many hands on her, or so it seemed, holding her in place. Who was it? Philip? But Philip would never hurt her. Julia said so.
It must be the others then. Th
ey would
hurt her. They didn’t care. Julia said they didn’t care.

Help, please, someone help me!

The little boy tried to run to her, to help her, his image changing to that of a man. A man she had never seen before, but one she knew could save her. Or would he? She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know anything; as her consciousness slowly slipped away…

* * *

“Dallan,” John pleaded, “please get on the bus when it comes. It won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“Eaton,” Lany whispered, “let me try.”

John threw a hand in the air. “Good luck.”

Lany marched up to the pacing Scot and stopped him in the middle of the sidewalk. “Dallan, you’re acting like a child. Stop it. Either get on the next bus when it comes, or we’ll leave without you.”
  

Dallan glared down at Lany, eyes narrowed to slits. He took his hands out of the pockets of the odd grey trousers he’d been forced to wear and held them loose at his sides.

“Don’t take that stance with me. I don’t care. Get on the bus or get left behind.” Lany stopped and sighed. “I’ve been here before. I know it’s scary.
Go ahead
,
admit it
. There’s no shame in that.”

Dallan sucked air through his nose, his jaw too tight to open his mouth.

“Aye, lad, ‘
tis a wee bit frightening at fi
rst, but I rather enjoy it
meself
, now that I’m used to it.” Angus tugged on Dallan’s sleeveless shirt. His arms and shoulders had been too big for it, so John and Lany had cut the sleeves away, not to mention part of the
neck line
,
to allow a more comfortable fi
t. Th
ey called the outfi
t
sweats.

Dallan looked hard at Lany. “How long do we have to… ride it?”

Lany tried not to smile. “Not long enough for you to decide whether or not you like or dislike it.”

John stepped forward. “Dallan, please. Th
e next one will be
coming any minute. We’re late enough as it is. It’s the only mode of transportation available to us. I know it’s all strange and new, but time is of the essence.”

The bus suddenly pulled up to the curb, its white and orange bulk rocking slightly
side to side
as it hit an uneven area of the street. It let out a loud hiss and came to a screeching halt.

Dallan froze.

Lany grabbed John and Angus. “Well, no sense waiting here for the next one. If we do, we’ll never make it on time.” He ushered them to the bus’s door.

The door opened with another loud hiss.

Dallan’s eyes narrowed, his twitch danced.

Angus hobbled up the few steps to a man sitting behind a large wheel and put some coins into a funny little box, the sound distinct in Dallan’s ears. Lany was next to board, whistling as he did, making a show of putting his own coins into the box, all the while looking Dallan right in the eye. John was next. He stopped before getting on and backed up a few steps, motioning Dallan to precede him.

Dallan looked at th
e open door, the little box and
scowling driver. He swallowed and looked back to John, then took a step forward.
Two steps, three.
“There’s something I’ve never told ye, John,” he
said
as he stood poised in
the doorway, one foot on the fi
rst step.

“What’s that?”

“I dinna travel well.”

“What do you mean, you don’t travel well?”

Dallan st
o
od on
the fi
rst step, the smell of the bus’s interior sending waves of nausea through him, the rocking
motion from his weight entering
the thing not helping the cause. But he knew i
t was more than that. “Ye’ll fi
nd out soon
enough.” He swallowed hard, fi
ghting the urge to run, the walls of the bus suddenly closing in around him.

He boarded, John following. Th
ey were fi
nally on their way to securing the Muiraran.

* * *

“Will you look at that one over there!
”
Kitty chirped for the ninth time.

Tomy rolled her eyes and looked to where Kitty pointed, squinting in the dim light. “Lordy, Kitty, I can’t take much more of this. If Shona and Julia don’t get here soon, I’m leaving. You are driving me crazy, girl!”

Kitty’s face plunged into disappointment. “What’s the matter, don’t you like him?”

Tomy rubbed her temples and
closed her eyes a mo
ment before she glared
at Kitty. “Are you this man-crazy at home, too? Or only when you’re with me?”

Kitty sat up straight in the huge crescent-moon shaped booth they
occupied
as the music around them got louder. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Tomy’s sip of diet soda was cut off by Kitty’s statement. “Give me a break!”

The music suddenly stopped, the song over. Mondays were not the most thrilling at Stan’s; the patrons had to rely on the jukebox for entertainment. The DJ was reserved for Wednesdays, live bands for the weekends.

Tomy
breathed a sigh of relief, not just because of the relative break of silence, but
because Shona and Julia had fi
nally gotten there.

“Oh, look, there they are!” Kitty exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Tomy grimaced as she watched Kitty bounce around in anticipation. “Lord
help
us all.”

“Hello, Tomy.” Shona
said as she approached
the center of the table as if deciding
who
to sit next to. Kitty immediately bounced to the middle of the booth to make room for them, moving closer to Tomy.

“Do you have to sit
next to me?” Tomy grumbled.  She brushed Kitty
off with a sigh and turned her attention elsewhere. “Hello, Shona, girl. You feeling better?”

Shona slid into the big red booth, Julia following. “I am much better now, thank you.” Her voice was oddly stoic, factual, cold. Tomy and Kitty looked at her with mild curiosity.

“Tomy told me you weren’t feeling well earlier.
" Kitty began concerned, as she continued to bounce about in her seat.
"
What did your doctor give you this time? Geez, can’t that man make up his mind?”

“It’s none of your concern,” Julia
interrupted. “Everything is fi
ne. Let’s not talk about it anymore. We are here to enjoy ourselves.” She glanced about as she spoke, taking in their surroundings. Se
veral people milled about
the mammoth jukebox in one corner of the huge room.
Quite a few more around the bar.
For a Monday night, attendance was quite high. Good.

“What are you drinking?” Julia asked nonchalantly, eyeing the men around the jukebox.

“Diet, what else?” Kitty blurted, still bouncing even though there was no music.

A woman in a T-shirt and jeans approached the table, her boot he
els stomping across the wood fl
oor. “STAN’S” was printed in large bold red across her chest. “What can I get you?”

The music suddenly began again.

“I
’ll have a glass of white wine. Shona, what do you want?”

No answer.

Julia looked at her. “Shona? What do you want?”

Shona shook herself and forced her attention to Julia. “I would like a, a glass of orange juice, please.”

“Be right back with those,” the woman said as she turned and left the table.

Shona watched her leave, relaxing in waves. A pleasant song was playing, just a man’s voice and guitar, a love song. She closed her eyes, the music wrapping itself around her, the thing inside her responding, soaking up the words and music,
absorbing
them. Feeding.

“Oh, look at that!” Kitty squeaked, grabbing Shona’s arm. “What do you think?”

Shona glanced lazily ahead in the direction of Kitt
y’s pointing fi
nger to a tall man clad in black jeans, white shirt, and a large
black cowboy hat. He stared
back at her, a wide smile under his long mustache. She smiled back. “Okay.”

“What?” Tomy blurted, practically choking on her drink. “Did I hear you right, Shona? Are you looking at a man?”

“Shona, it’s very unladylike to stare. Stop it.”
Julia glanced coldly at the man
who shrugged and turned away.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Kit
ty pouted. “Now I’ll have to fi
nd another one.”

Julia turned the look on her to stop any further attempts at
man-watching
. Kitty frowned and res
ted her chin in her hands. “Thi
s isn’t much fun.”