Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (55 page)

Kwaku was on his feet and at his side before Lany could make a move. Zara sat up and watched her husband help Dallan back to the bed, a warm
expression on her face. She off
ered it to Lany, and he smiled back.

Kwaku cared about Dallan. A lot.

“Get yer fi
lthy hands off me, ye disgusting heathen!” Dallan did not feel the same way about Kwaku. A lot.

“Boyeee let me help you.”

“Help me!
Ye’d
like to kill me! Get away!”

“Kawahnee let him go.” Zara stood wearily.

Kwaku laughed, went straight to his wife and gently sat her back on the bed. “You too, pretty one. Bode of you are st
ill weak.”

 
She off
ered no protest, instead staring at Dallan. “How do you feel?”

 
Dallan’s scowl retreated behind genuine concern. “Dinna concern yourself with me, Lady. ‘Tis you I worry for. What happened, lass? Ye dinna look right.”

Zara smiled weakly. “I am tired Dallan. And…” Her gaze slowly drifted to her husband, “… hungry.”

“Well
I think it’s about time for us to leave, Dallan,” Lany declared quickly.

Dallan turned to him. “Leave?”

“You heard me. Leave.”

Kwaku chuckled. “How do you fare, Boyeee? Ar
e you hungry as well?
Mos
-go-fi
-an can take you to food, while I feed my wife.”

“But she needs something now.” Dallan argued. “Do ye no ha’ to go get it? Is there food
here? If so, ‘twill suit me fi
ne.”

 
Lany leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Trust me you don’t want to have what they’re having.” He thought about what the Scot had been dreaming and added, “Yet.”

Dallan only cocked his head at him.

Lany sighed and grabbed Dallan’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go see if Angus has anything up front.” He led the Scot from the huge training area, through a large metal door and into the same room Zara had tended him in the night before.

Angus and John sat at a small table laden with white Styrofoam containers.

“Dallan,” John began as he stood. “How do you feel?” He grabbed an extra chair from a nearby corner and placed it at the table.

“Why is everyone so interested in my health? First the heathen, then the Lady and now you, John.”

John glanced at Lany, who merely shrugged. He looked back at Dallan. “You had a bad night. Don’t you remember?”

Dallan took the chair off
ered and sat. “I dinna remember anything off hand that ‘twould be considered bad. I was at the… the… Saints. I no
be
having a memory of where I was.” His face suddenly furrowed with confusion.

Lany found another chair and sat as well. “Nothing? You don’t remember the library?”

Dallan shook his head. “Library?”

“Yes, the library. Do you remember being there yesterday with…Shona?” Lany’s expression became hopeful.

“Shona.” Dallan spoke the name slowly, smiled and sighed. “Shona. Aye, I remember Shona.”

John, Angus and Lany all breathed a sigh of relief.

Dallan’s face remained far away. “I have to meet her today.” All three men turned to him expectantly.

“One o’clo
ck.” Dallan nodded to himself f
i
rmly then read the brand name on one of the containers on the table. “Och, family! What’s in these boxes?”

“Lany?” John whispered. “Why is he acting so funny?”

 
Lany shrugged and shook his head.

Angus shoved a box in front of Dallan. “Breakfast, lad. Eat up, ye needs yer strength.”

Dallan opened the box. “Ah, cakes!”

Angus beamed and handed him a fork. Dallan took it and began to dig in.

Lany grabbed another box as he watched the Weapons Master wolf down his pancakes. “Near brush
with death certainly hasn’t aff
ected his appetite,” he mumbled to John.

John stood. “I’m going to ask Kwaku what’s wrong.”

“Not now, Eaton.”

John
raised
a “why not” eyebrow at him.

“He’s feeding Zara.”

“Oh.” John quickly sat down.

“Mayhaps the Lady would like some o’ these.” Dallan reached for another box, his intent clear.

Lany grabbed his arm. “No, no, not now. Maybe later.”

“But the food’s here, lad. They’ve no food back there.”

“They do, and Zara prefers to eat in… private.” Lany was trying his best to keep a straight face.

Angus on the other hand, failed miserably. “Why that disgusting heathen! Why is it always in my house, my shop, now
my
fencing room!”

 
Dallan’s eyes lit up. “Fencing room?”

“Aye, lad, I give lessons t
o the wee ones now and then. Th
e heathen planned on working ye today. Did he no tell ye what the room was for?”

  
Lany, mouth full of food, nearly choked.
“Kwaku? Are you kidding?”

  
Angus laughed and picked up a folded newspaper near one of the food boxes. “Aye, I see yer point.” He turned his attention to the paper. “Weel, looks like there was a wee bit o’ excitement at the zoo last night.”

  
Now Lany did choke. He spu
ttered and coughed a moment, fi
nally managing a weak, “went down the wrong way.”

Dallan slapped his back a few times. “Zoo?”

“Aye, says here two unidentifi
ed men were found hanging upside-down over the pit o’ the lions’ lair. They had been stripped naked, bound, gagged
and hung from the fence by their ankles.” He shook his head yet managed a quick wink at Lany, “Despicable. Who would do such a thing?”

Lany had to admit he was a pretty good actor, but this was taxing his limits. “They should be ashamed of themselves,” he mumbled into his pancakes.

John looked from Dallan, to Lany, back to Dallan, then at the
paper. “
Ohhhh
… please tell me you didn
'
t
?”

Lany’s face was beginning to turn red when the shop’s telephone rang. “I’ll get it!” He volunteered before Angus could say a word, and sprinted from the table.

Dallan stared after him in fascination. “J
ohn, I’m worried about the
lad.”

John’s faced tensed as he stared at the paper. “You’re not the only one.”

 
After a moment, a much calmer Lany walked back into the room. “Uh, Eaton?”

John turned in his chair. “What is it?”

“There’s a phone call for Dallan.”

“For Dallan?” John stood up. “Who is it?”

“She didn't give her name but I'm pretty sure it's
Miss
Destructo
from yesterday.”

 
Angus cringed and nearly choked on his pancakes.

“Well, give it to him, Lany.” John commented dryly as he watched Angus try to recover.

Lany handed the portable phone to an uncomprehending Dallan who took it carefully. He stared at it a moment, cocking his head. “What’s this? What d’ye do
wi
’ it?”

Angus reached over, took the phon
e from him,
and turned it
around to its proper position before shoving it back into the Scot's hand.  He then lifted said
hand to the younger Scot’s ear and smiled. “Say hello, lad.”

Dallan narrowed his eyes at him. “Hello, lad?”

“Hello?” The phone chirped back.

“Saints!” Dallan let go the phone as if it were some poisonous snake and jumped from his chair. “What is that thing?”

“Steady, Dallan.” Lany picked up the phone. “Hello?”

Dallan watched in fascination as Lany talked into the strange device, vainly trying to comprehend the one-sided conversation.

“Don’t worry I’ll give him the message. He’ll be there. Good bye.” Lany set the phone on the table.

Dallan stared at it suspiciously for a moment before picking it up.

“Well?” John leaned forward in his chair, his face intense.

Lany sm
iled. “Sure enough.
Kitty Morgan
, Shona’s friend.
Dallan, you have an appointment to keep this afternoon. But it’s been changed to three o’clock.”

The Scot stared blankly at him.

“At the library, with Shona?” Lany urged.

John’s eyes lit up. “The Maiden… she… who… what’s going on?”

“Shona…” Dallan set the phone down and stared longingly at the table, his expression pained.

“Eaton, we need to talk,” Lany replied to John, his voice light.

John stood and went to stand next to his assistant, who now wore a huge grin. “What?”

“Eaton, we have some new allies.”

Like mine own dear harp is

Th
is my heart

Dumb, without the hand that

Sweeps its strings
;

Th
ough the hand be careless

Or be cruel,

When it comes, my heart breaks

Forth and sings.

Sarah Williams

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Dings are going well
Mos
-go-fi
-an, yes?” Kwaku asked as he settled into one of the worn easy ch
airs in Angus’s living room. The two men were the fi
rst back from the shop, and were waiting for the rest of the company to arrive so they could start preparing Dallan for his afternoon date with the Maiden.

“Well…” Lany began, still stressed from the previous night
and thus pacing the floor
. “Considering that so far you’ve allowed this Brennan character to run around doing whatever he wants and not even telling the rest of us he’s b
ad news not that we couldn’t fi
gure that out on our own…” He paused for a breath. “
…
and
that you got our only hope of success so edgy and confused he probably won’t know what to do with the Maiden,
if
he ev
er gets to the point
where he fully accepts her, being as you failed to mention to him she’s not human…” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “No, no problems at all! Oh, and did I mention how ri
diculous you look in that outfi
t?”

Kwaku raised an amused brow and glanced at his neon sweats. “I like yellow. It is a happy color!”

“You could make all of us happier by not wearing it.”

Angus entered
the apartment, a large brown paper bag in each arm. He winced at the sight of Kwaku’s fresh attire and immediately turned to Lany. “Ye best get yerself downstairs, Master Lany. Lord John is having trouble
wi
’ the lad.”

“Oh no, not the elevator again?” Lany groaned.

“Aye a
nd they be painting the stair-wells
to
day, so he’s got to take that bloody moving box
.”

“On my way,” Lany muttered, pushing his
tired body off the couch
and out the door.

Angus eyed the door a moment, turned to Kwaku and squinted a
t his outfi
t. “Ye look like a traffic sign,” he grumbled as he headed for the
kitchen, bags in hand.

Kwaku raised his head and sniff
ed t
he air as Angus passed. “Traffi
c sign dress as well as I! You have brought lunch, yes?”

“Lunch? Ye just ate yer breakfast not two hours ago!” Angus snorted from the kitchen.

Kwaku merely laughed as he got up to assist Angus with the groceries. “My wife was fed, not I.”

Angus glared at him. “’Tis not my fault ye didna get to the pancakes in time. Ye should ha’ been quicker with… well…”

Kw
aku broke into full Azurti guff
aws and continued to raid the bags.

A moment later John and Lany shoved a slightly nauseated
Dallan through the apartment door
just as Kwaku
bounded out of the kitchen and dove
for the fl
oor. Dallan almost tripped over him, then turned his head toward the kitchen just in time for the
cast iron
frying pan Angus had let loose after Kwaku to connect squarely with his forehead.
Clannngggg
!

Dallan promptly fell onto John, Lany escaping only by jumping quickly aside. “Ouch,” he stated calmly. “You okay, Eaton?”