Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (38 page)

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Kitty began to tug on Shona’s arm. If there was one thing capable of tearing Kitty Morgan away from a handsome man, it was the possibility of her father’s wrath. She grabbed Shona’s other arm and proceeded to pull her away.

Shona's
gaze was torn from Dallan’s as Kitty dragged her down the aisle, now anxious to leave the library and any possible confrontation that might arise should they be caught and charged with disturbing the peace or being a public nuisance.

Lany watched Dallan fight the urge to follow. His fi
sts opened and closed,
his jaw danced and his eyes fi
lled with pain,
yet he didn’t take one step. The Maiden
quickly disappeared around the corner as he stared after her. For some reason, he never followed.

Lany rolled his eyes then
trotted along quietly and caught sight of the girls as they descended the wide st
aircase leading to the first
fl
oor
lobby and main exit.

“Lany!”

He’d been so intent on the Maiden he didn’t even see John emerge out of a nearby aisle. He kept moving as he acknowledged his superior. “Dallan’s back there. I’ll take care of the Maiden.”

John looked confused for a moment before he headed off in the direction o
f the immobilized Scot. Satisfi
ed, Lany picked up speed and raced d
own the stairs to the second fl
oor landing which overlooked the lobby below. The Maiden and Kitty had already left the building.

As inconspicuously as possible he raced down the next set of stairs,
reached the ma
in doors and burst through.  Across the street t
he Maiden
was
get
ting
into a little r
ed car driven by her friend. Th
ere was a horrible
grinding o
f gears as the vehicle sped off
.

Lany sighed in relief. Thank the Creator she was safe… for now. He
mumbled a quick prayer that she would stay that way until the interview that evening and headed back upstairs.

* * *

Julia paced beside her car, tired of waiting and wondering what was happening inside. Perhaps she should have gotten someone more reliable, more professional, to do the job, but Steven had done her well enough so far. And he had gotten here as soon as she called and told him where Shona was. Not bad for such short notice. Pe
rhaps she was too impatient. Th
ings
were so risky no
w and she knew she couldn’t aff
ord to get nervous.

“Miss Dawson?”

Julia spun on her heel and came face to face with her hired help. She quickly took in the sight of the three young men assigned the task of harassing and terrifying Shona Whittard. “What on earth happened to you?”

Steven, the leader of the three, stepped forward reluctantly.
“We, uh, ran into a little problem.”

Julia’s face contorted. “What kind of problem? You got the job done, didn’t you?”

Steven again looked at his friends. “We can’t do this for you anymore. It’s getting too dangerous. Lewis got scalped in there, and Ed thinks he may have a concussion.”

Julia looked them over sternly, noted Ed’s black and blue face and Lewis’s missing hair,
then
turned her attention back to Steven. “How did she react when you gave the trigger phrase?”

“Just like you said she would, she ran and froze, ran and froze. We c
hased her all over the third fl
oor before…” he looked at Lewis and Ed, “…we got interrupted.”

“Interrupted?”

Steven swallowed hard and nodded again.

Julia reached into her car through an open window and pulled out her purse. She began to dig through it. “I want you to do the same thing in two days if possible.” She fumbled with a wad of money. “I can have her here in the afternoon.” She handed Steven three, one hundred dollar bills.

The three young men gl
anced at one another, Ed shuffl
ing his feet as
they did. “Don’t count on me going through this again, lady. I almost got killed in there today.”

Julia looked him squarely in the eye. “I pay you to do a job and do it right. If there are a few risks involved, then that’s the way of it. I explained this to Steven before I hired him. Besides, I assumed you were capable of handling anyone interfering with your work.” She extracted three more bills from the wad, handing them to Ed, her voice sarcastic. “What happened?
A book fall
on you?”

He snatched the bills from her hand and glared at her before looking at the money. “Something
like
that.”

She gave a satisfi
ed smile, pulled out another three bills and handed them to Lewis who took the money with little enthusiasm. She then dropped the wad back into her purse and snapped it shut. “Two days, gentlemen, unless you hear from me prior.” She got into her car and sped away from them with a loud screech of tires.

Steven looked after the car, his face a frown, and then turned to his friends. “How much money we got?”

All three looked at the money in their hands. Ed glanced back to the library a block and a half away. “Enough money to stay at my d
ad’s beach house for four or fi
ve days.” He touched the left side of his face tenderly, wincing in pain as he did.

Steven and Lewis also glanced at the library down the street before turning to each other. “Let’s go,” they said in unison.

Things had to be safer at the beach.

Sweetest sweet and fairest fair,

Of birth and worth beyond compare,

Th
ou art the causer of my care,

Since fi
rst I loved thee.

Yet God hath given to me a mind,

Th
at which to thee shall prove as kind

A
s any one that thought shalt fi
nd,

Of high or low degree.

A Ballad

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Do you have any hobbies?”
John asked to start things off
, amazed at how well recovered the Maiden seemed considering the library incident.
But, he reminded
himself,
her emotions could disappear and reappear in an instant.  Hmmm … perhaps it was time to test them.

 
They were se
ated in the Whittard’s third-fl
oor music room—John on a large white, rather worn, pillow-like sofa, Shona across from him on a matching love seat. There was a
glass topped
table between them, a very expensive looking one, John noted. It stood out against the other fur
nishings. The only things on
the table were Jo
hn and Shona’s cups of tea, off
ered earlier by Shona’s mother before she excused herself to go run a few errands.

John sat and silently observed Shona as she organized her thoughts.

She was lovely.
No, not the right
word.
Exquisite? No. Dainty? Th
at she was. She was no more than fou
r inches above fi
ve feet tall, and her bone structure, judging from her face and hands, was extremely delicate and fragile looking. However she didn’t appear scrawny as he thought she might, considering how small her Muiraran mother
Shan
n
ell
was. No, the Maiden, despite her size, had a womanly voluptuousness to her. A well-proportioned, dainty, elegant—that was the
word—piece of priceless art painted by the heavens
.

He then got his first real good look at
her eyes. John automatically sucked in his breath as they locked with his, their green lumi
nescence jolting his senses. Th
e
Maiden’s eyes had the upward slant of her race, the o
ne Muiraran feature her camoufl
age instinct did not completely hide
.

“Hobbies?” Shona began, reaching for her teacup. She sat back in her seat and took a sip. “Fencing. For about seven years now.”

John reached for his own cup. “Do you enjoy it?”

“At first no, not much. But now I fi
nd it to be great fun, no
t to mention good exercise. Betw
een schoo
l and lessons, it is hard to fi
nd time to work out.”

“You like working out?”

She looked at him as if he were some sort of dimwit, causing John to swallow too much tea and almost choke. Shona merely raised an eyebrow, as if she found his display interesting in a scholastic sort of way, and then remembered he
r manners. “Mr. Eaton, are you a
ll right?” She stood a
nd calmly reached over the coff
ee table to pat his back.

The touch gave John a strange tingly sensation that spread across his back and through the rest of his body. His coughing immediately stopped. “
Tha
… thank you,” he managed to sputter as he forced a smile.

The Maiden returned to her seat, studying him like he was an unusual insect. He supposed she was taking in all aspects of his behavior, cataloguing them for future reference. Muirarans absorbed everything.

“Yes,” she said as she retrieved her cup from the table. “I do like to work out.” The statement was matter-of-fact.

“Do you have any other hobbies?” John stared at his tea, wondering if he should have another go at it, then looked to the Maiden.

She obse
rved his decision making indiff
erently. “Yes, I do.”

“What are they?”

“I like languages, gymnastics… and music.” Her last words were spoken softly, as if she didn’t want anyone else in the house to hear them.

“Music,” John prompted just as quietly.

She lifted her eyes over the rim of her cup as she sipped, their green color brightening with suppressed excitement. “Yes,” she breathed, “music.”

 
The passion in her voice couldn’t be missed, and John made a note of it. Music. Lany
and Zara were
right; the Call was manifesting itself that way. It also explained why Dallan heard music every time he received the Call. “So music is not only your chosen vocation but your favorite hobby?”

“Yes, yes it is! I… I love music.” Her words escaped on a breathy whisper, and she must have realized how she sounded if the blush
creeping into her cheeks was an
indicator.

“Why do you like music so much?”

Shona took a deep breat
h, probably to calm
herself
. At least she still had control, or it appeared she did. Time would tell… “I don’t really know. I guess because of the way it makes me feel.”

“How does it make you feel?”

Her breathing picked up again, and Jo
hn could tell she was indeed fi
ghting for control.
“Satisfied,” she finally off
ered.

John ma
de a note or two on his tablet.
Time
to see how stable or unstable her emotional states
really
were. He
swallowed and looked back to the Maiden, a determined gleam in his eyes.

“Have you ever been arrested?”

 
Shona nearly choked as she sipped. “No.” she told
him,
having to compose herself. “I have not.”

 
He smiled. Th
e flat, forced fact-fi
nder voice she’d used earlier was gone. The Maiden’s seemingly nonexistent emotions were keying up.

“Do you have any health problems?”

“No, Mr. Eaton. I do not.”

“Have you ever had a mystical experience?”

Dead silence.

“Miss Whittard?” he prompted. He knew very well she was having
dreams and possibly nightmares just like Dallan.
A
direct result of the Call constantly stirring within her, growing.

“I… I’m not sure I understand wha
t you mean by mystical,” she fi
nally offered, trying to sound sure of
herself
and not doing a very good job.

The question had to hav
e thrown her, John thought. Thi
s was, after all, supposed to be a uni
versity entrance interview. “Th
ings out of the norm,” he replied casually. “Strange dreams for example.” He reached for his cup to give her a moment to consider her answer. From the cornered look on her face, he knew he’d hit pay dirt.