Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (34 page)

Brennan straightened himself. “Decency, old boy?” he chuckled. “There’s no room for dece
ncy in this. Survival of the fi
ttest, that’s what
this
is about. And whic
h of us do you think is the fit
test? Hmm?”

Philip couldn’t look at him.

“Hmm, I thought so. We both know who holds the power here, don’t we?”

Philip still did not look at him.

“We both know who makes all the plans, don’t we?”

No response.

“And we both know who controls Julia,” Brennan’s voice dropped even lower, “don’t we, Philip?”

Philip turned away again, back to the relative safety of th
e window, only to face his refl
ection in the glass.

“Julia belongs to me.
I
gave her a new life so i
t is I she trusts, I she obeys, not you.” Brennan’s voice got louder. “And it is I she will have the girl submit to. Julia does whatever I ask. Do you think she would do the same for you?”

Philip ignored him and stared intently out at the garden.

“No, I am the one who wins, Philip. Not you. I am the one Julia wants, even though you found her, even though it was you who rescued her.” Brennan paused to let the words sink into his victim. “Even after all that, after you had her, she still wanted me more.” He stopped again, awaiting a reaction. He got none, and continued.

“Did you honestly think she would stay with you? If you had been smart, you would never have taken h
er to bed in the fi
rst place. You should have turned her directly over to me. I would have taken care of everything, Philip, like I always do.” He again chuckled lightly. “Perhaps if yo
u had given her to me in the fi
rst place, Lissa would still be alive.”

Philip slo
wly t
urned back to face
his refl
ection
held in a mirror atop a bureau
across the room, his face an expressionless mask.

Brennan nodded, “Yes, you know it’s true
. If you hadn’t had such an aff
air with Julia, Lissa would still be with us. You killed her, you know. Your lust killed her, Philip.”

Philip lowered his gaze to the plush carpeting beneath his feet. He slowly raised his eyes and surveyed the room with its rich furnishings and priceless works of art adorning the walls. It was the only room in the house where he and what now mastered him conversed.

“Regrets, Philip? Are you remembering how it was before I came into your life? Before I took Lissa away from you? She would have died anyway.
But your affair with Julia is what fi
nished her. I had nothing at all to do with her death. You killed her all on your own.”

Philip raised his gaze back to Brennan. “What is it you want?” His voice was barely a whisper.

Brennan was expressionless for a moment, and then smiled broadly. “That’s more like it, Philip. Ask me what I want. Ask me… who.”

“Who?”

“Another child, Philip. You’ll kill him for me, won’t you?”

 
Philip’s eyes widened. “No!”

“Yes, Philip. Kill him before he can stop me. She dreams of him; Julia told me. I’ve had to increase my control, had to
have Julia at times keep her fi
rmly sedated. All the signs are there. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for her.”

“I’ll not kill for you again.”

Brennan’s smile grew. “Yes, you will, just like you killed the others.”

Phil
ip pressed his lips together fi
rmly and crossed the room to Brennan.

He looked himself squarely in the eye as they faced each other. “You can’t make me do it.”

Brennan received his stare for a moment, and then gave a snort of disgust. “What makes you think I can’t? You’re weak, Philip. You can’t resist me. You could never resist me, and I’ll prove it to you.” Brennan’s eyes narrowed. “Go to the bed, Philip.”

Philip’s eyes were just as narrowed. “No.”

Brennan laughed. “Oh, Philip. When will you learn to just obey me?

Go to the bed, take off your jacket and get comfortable. See what I’ve brought for you? Isn’t she lovely?”

Philip slowly turned his head in the direction of the huge four-poster bed, its canopied curtains hiding what lay upon it. He licked his now-dry lips, letting his gaze drift back to Brennan.

“Yes, you want
her, don’t you? You take her fi
rst, and then it will be my turn.” Brennan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “And then we’ll kill her together…
and feed.”

Philip closed his eyes, fi
ghting the
seductive lure of Brennan’s off
er.

“Ah, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” Brennan drawled. “Do you want something good to eat? It’s right there on the bed waiting for you. All you have to do is go over there, get undressed and take it.”

Philip’s body began to tremble with the steady lessening of his control.

“She’ll be good, Philip. She’s young, strong. She’ll keep you alive until you can woo and win the important one. The one that really counts.”

“Don’t make me do this. You can’t make me…” Philip’s control escaped him. He doubled over in pain.

“God, but you need it! You’re hungry! Aren’t you, Philip?”

Philip gasped for air, gripped the side of a huge mahogany dresser and pulled himself to a standing position. He now faced Brennan again.

Brennan smiled at him. “Who controls you, Philip?”

Philip gasped again as he fought for air, the pain assailing. “You do,” he rasped.

“And to whom will you give the girl?”

Philip fought to stay where he was. “To you.”

“Then go to the bed, Philip. Go feed yourself. Feed what little piece of Lissa still lives within you. While you can.”

Philip fought the lus
t, the hunger, the need to infl
ict pain, but
the lure of Brennan’s off
er was too strong. He took a step toward the bed where he knew the one thing able to satisfy his raging hunger lay, bound and gagged, waiting for him.

Pure, untouched fl
esh.
A virgin. Food.

“Isn’t it ironic, Philip?
Lissa’s
inner heart fed off beauty and pleasure. Now you feed what is left of her with unquenchable lust and sadistic pain. Enjoy your meal, Philip. It will be the last; you must fast until the feast is ready.” Brennan’s voice became an evil hiss. “Read the message again, Philip. Let the news excite
you,
let it ignite your bloodlust. Take what I’ve brought for you, and we’ll enjoy it together.”

Philip’s hands shook uncontrollably as he reached for the message on the dresser. He picked it up, the paper rattling in his shaking hands. His eyes were about to read again the words he’d longed to hear, the ones that told him he would still live, when a knock sounded at the door.

He swallowed hard and looked to Brennan whose face held the same look of panic. He straightened and turned around. “Yes, what is it?”

The door opened a crack, then halfway as a tall butler poked his head into the bedroom. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, sir, but you did want to be informed of your travel arrangements as soon as they were made.”

Philip stood stiffl
y, fi
ghting against hi
s hunger. “Yes? What did you fi
nd out?”

“Mr. Graves book
ed three seats on an evening fl
ight.”

“What date?” Philip’s hands shook,
and he had to ball them into fi
sts to keep his forced control.

“I’m sorry, Lord Brennan, but the soonest Mr. Graves could book was tomorrow evening.”

“I see.
Very well then.
Leave me now.”

“Will the… lady need a car home, sir?”

Philip glanced quickly to the curtained bed, then back to his servant. “No. I’ll take care of the lady personally. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight then, sir.” The butler left, closing the door behind him.

Philip strode across the room and locked the door, returned to the dresser and picked up the message. He read it silently to him
self before looking at his refl
ection in the mirror.

“Do you still want me to read this to you?” Philip asked.

Brennan smiled wickedly back at hi
m. “Yes, of course I do. But fi
rst, promise me something.”

Philip stared at him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What?”

Brennan smiled again. “You will kill the boy, just like the others. Leave no trace, Philip, no clues, no witnesses. And do it
yourself
this time. I won’t let you use Julia again. You will kill him yourself. I don’t care how.”

Philip looked to the message in
his hand, then back to his refl
ection.
A
refl
ection which
raised an impatient brow at him. “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?”

Philip glanced at the bed. The young girl he’d drugged at the
Sonderson’s
party would be waking soon, if she hadn’t regained consciousness already. He took a step in the direction of his private torture chamber.

“Read it again, Philip. Let me hear it one more time before we eat.”

Philip stopped in mid-stride, his head half turned to the mirror. He looked at the message in his hand.

LORD PHILIP C. BRENNAN

132114 MAYFAIR

LONDON, ENGLAND A-3241

BEGIN
........
SHEʼS
READY........STOP........060795

“She’s ready. Ready for you, ready for us. Take the chain and the knife from the closet, Philip. I’m hungry…”

Love hath a language of his own—a voice that goes

From heart to heart—whose mystic tone

Love only knows.

Th
omas Moore

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Shona
sat,
hands clutched together in her lap, and forced herself to breathe evenly. She was in the library alone, unusual in itself; she was rarely alone anywhere.

She looked about apprehensively. Noth
ing. No one. Th
is part of the
library at this time of the day was always empty for some reason. It seemed strange to be by herself. She’d felt almost guilty when Kitty dropped her off earlier, but she didn’t have to tell her best friend everything. For instance, she didn’t have to tell her she was hoping
to meet again with the mysteri
ous man she’d seen yesterday.
A man who understood the simplest action, the slightest look, and whom she could understand in return.

She raised her head suddenly as an unfamilia
r sensation crept up her spine.
Anticipation? She sat up straighter and searched the rows of books again. Still nothing. She dropped her head and let her shoulders slump in disappointment.

Hello.

Shona spun in her chair. He stood casually leaning against the shelves behind her, wearing the same pair of sweats as yesterday, only now they’d been torn further. T
h
e sweatshirt’s elastic waistband had been completely ripped away, allowing the garment to hang wide and loose on his body.
She thought it an odd thing to notice, but he looked better with the rent clothing. Rugged. It suited him.

T
h
e man looked at her expectantly, gently. She swallowed hard, unable to
speak
as somethin
g seemed to take over. Once again
an odd
warmth
wrap
ped
itself around her throat as if something besides her own voice wanted to speak wi
th him.
Something deep inside
her.

Shona’
s eyes softened as he
stood there,
hands at his s
ides, palms turned toward her as the day before
. He lifted them slightly.
Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.

She sucked in a breath. Like yesterday, she could understand him, as if hearing a voice in her head, yet not hea
ring it. She just knew. She off
ered him a weak smile.
Hello.

He smiled back, stepped
away from the shelves
and walked to a table opposite hers several feet away. He sat down and continued to look at her gently,
his eyes alive with unidentifi
able emotion.