Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (58 page)

Dallan
let
out an anguished grunt,
then
doubled
over with a harsh rasp.

 
Lany’s face became frantic, it’s color drained away. “Eaton…”

John held up a hand to quiet him.

Zara placed her own hands on her thighs, leaned forward and began to sing.

Dallan’s head was thrown back as pain seared his heart, cutting its way through his body, dragging the hated em
ptiness along behind it to fi
ll any missed pla
ces with a dark, cold dread. Th
e wee lass appeared out
of nowhere t
o stand before him, her hair fl
oating about her head and face with the wind, arms outstretched to him, beckoning, pleading for him to come. Calling.

She knelt before him in the place where Zara had been a few seconds before. He gasped and nearly fell backward as he took in the sight, eyes wide, his heart now open, raw and com
pletely empty, waiting to be fi
lled by the woman-child kneeling before him, the Muiraran, Shona.

The Maiden leaned forward, opened her mouth, and began to sing.

Dallan let
out a gut-wrenching howl
as his entire body absorb
ed her song, words and music fl
owing into him like water into water, joining, melding, mixing together, showing him the heart he had given her so
long ago. The words
burned, cleaning the savage wounds of wrath and revenge, closing up ragged tears of bi
tterness, his
stubborn refusal to give in to his
own need. Th
ey entered his
heart, his veins to become a new blood, a new life source, traveling throughout his body, encompassing his very soul.

He tried to fl
ing his body away but was held fast by an unseen source, empty hands gripping him with a for
ce beyond his comprehension. Th
e
more words escape
d her, the tighter the hold. Th
e air in his lungs became
like fi
re, the heat spreading outward to wrap around anything consumable.

A face loomed behind the heat, a man’s face. It drew nearer a
s the heat’s intensity grew, fi
lling his vision enough to block out the sight of the
Maiden. Confi
rmation came with the face to place i
tself before him like a sacrifi
ce, daring him to take it, take and look at the awful truth to be found behind it.
A face not unlike his own.

Dallan screamed. The face was his father’s. A face he had never seen, until now.

Rejection shot from its hiding place to take on the Maiden and her song. It hit her full force an
d all but knocked her to the fl
oor as its pain clawed, ripped, tried to strip away her resolve to heal and bind. But the gift Dallan gave to her so long ago, now forged together with her heart, struck down the deep root of his rejection, banishing it, leaving him free to receive what she held for him.

To receive back his heart.
A heart now joined with hers.

Lany screamed.

Angus rushed to help John hold him down. “What’s happening? Why does it affect Master Lany like this?”

“I don’t know! Kwaku, help!”

Kwaku stood over Zara, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed at the three men. He slowly walked over and grabbed the now-hysterical Lany by the back of his neck and lifted him from John and Angus’s desperate grasps. Lany kicked and swung at the air around him as Kwaku hel
d him several feet above the fl
oor, at arms length from his own tall body.

John and Angus sat stunned as a series of threats spewed out of the usually calm, apathetic Assistant Councilor, while Dallan several feet away, sat fully encompassed by Zara’s projected image of the Maiden’s song.

Kwaku’s eyes narrowed further as he watched Lany struggle, then threw the lanky form in the air, spinning him around to grab him by the front of his shirt, never onc
e letting his feet touch the fl
oor.

Lany’s tirade continued. “No! I won’t take this from you anymore. Get away from me! Get away before I show you what I mean!”

 
Kwaku shook his head, carried Lany to a corner of the living room and stood him directly in front of a chair, then looked over his shoulder at John and Angus with a raised brow, as if asking permission.

John shrugged his helplessness, leaving it to the Time Master’s own judgment. Kwaku shrugged back
, turned to Lany and put his fi
st into the man’s gut. The yells were cut off as the air left his lungs. He doubled
over in time to have Kwaku’s fi
st plant itself squarely on his jaw, the blow sending him into the chair behind him with enough force to push chair and occupant up against the wall. He sat stunned and silent a
moment,
opened his mouth as if to ask a question, then passed out.

Kwaku poked Lany with a fi
nger, got no response and turned to John. “He is sensitive to my wife’s ministrat
ions. He will be fi
ne now.”

“Aye, I would be too if I were knocked out cold.” Angus muttered, his eyes going from a now-subdued Dallan to the forcibly subdued Lany.

“Kwaku,” John began, “what happened? Sensitive is one thing, but this?”

 
Kwaku stood behind his now-silent wife, who knelt directly in front of Dallan, both the Weapons Master’s hands in her own. “De Boyeee is your main con
cern, Lord Councilor.
Mos
-go-fi
-an will survive and be at
your side shortly. He is of no
consequence right now.”

“What?’ John crossed the room to where Lany sat sprawled. “Look at him! Something’s not right here!”

Kwaku wedged himself between the
chair and John. “When
Mos
-go-fi
-an is ready and able to tell you, he will tell you. It is his secret; it is not my place. For
now, tend de Boyeee.
Mos
-go-fi
-an needs time to recover properly.”

John recognized the fi
nality in Kwaku’s voice, one that indicated he would not discuss the matter further. “Okay.”

“De Boyeee will be fi
ne. My wife has given to him much of her own bond with de Maiden, freeing her heart completely. He is now ready for her. De Joining will be tonight.”

“Tonight!”

“Yes, Lord Councilor. I will see
dem
joined tonight, or not at all.” Kwaku turned and silently left the apartment, leaving the rest of the company to handle things as best they could. H
e had to take care of some unfi
nished business with the former Time Master, Philip Brennan. He knew that tonigh
t, the Maiden would make her fi
nal Call, and that Dallan, with Zara’s help, would be
ready to answer it. The company from Genis Lee could not aff
ord any trouble now.

Love
has no other desire but to fulfi
ll
itself
.

To melt and be like a running brook

Th
at sings its melody to the night.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart

And give thanks for another day of loving.

Kahlil
Gibran

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Sinclair sat atop Shona’s chest, his face inches from her own, ears pricked forward, tail swishing. Kitty’s other cats were also in attendance, all on the bed, on top and surrounding the young w
oman Kitty always knew was diff
erent. She didn’t know until today, however, how much.

Kitty took a cautious step forward causing the cats on the bed to growl at her, a reminder she drew near the set boundary. “All right, I’m backing up again. See?” She took a slow step back and stood perfectly still. “Oh gawsh, I can’t believe this is happening. Th
is is so freaking me out
! Wake up, Shona!”

Shona did not answer. Her features were settled into a face completely unfamiliar to Kitty, yet still Shona’s. Kitty fell into a nearby chair
and continued to stare transfi
xed at her friend.

Sinclair watched his mistress a moment then turned his attention back to his perch. He laid down where he was, placed his face as close to Shona’s as possib
le and began to purr loudly. Th
e rest of the tribe joined him, purring as loud as they could, settled like sentries around the sleeping woman.

Kitty could only sit and watch helplessly, as she had for the last hour.

“Kitty?” The face was still alien, frightening, but the voice was clearly Shona’s.

Kitty jumped out of the chair and froze. Shona’s face was changing again.

“Kitty?” Her voice was weak, a harsh whisper. “Where am I?” S
hona
slowly opened her eyes to fi
nd the answer.

Cats.

She tried to focus on the furry face in front of her. “Sinclair?” Sinclair let out a horrid wail.

Shona grimaced, pulled a hand from underneath two other cats and patted Sinclair on the head. He purred louder.

“Are you all right, Shona?” Kitty asked
cautiously
.

Shona studied her a moment. “I think so. You do not look well, though. What is the matter?” She pushed herself up with her elbows and studied her. “You look like you have seen a ghost.”

Kitty off
ered a poor excuse for a smile and shrugged.

“What time is it?”

Kitty reluctantly tore her gaze from Shona and glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “Almost three. We need to get going.”

“Going?”

“Shona, don’t you remember? Don’t you remember anything?”

“Remember?”

Kitty
approached the bed
slowly
and knelt on the floor a few feet away. “Th
is morning? Julia? Your dad and
mom practically carried you to my car so I could bring you here.”

“This morning… Julia.” Shona’s mind was a blank. She sat up slowly
and tried to think, but the eff
ort clouded her thoughts.

Sinclair let out another screeching wail, sending several cats skittering off the bed. He watched them go as he repositioned himself in Shona’s lap, and began to bat at a lock of her hair.

Shona petted him
absently. “Julia.” Her eyes fl
ew to Kitt
y’s. “I think she wanted to do something to
me.” Her hand stopped. Sinclair looked from Shona to Kitty and back then batted at her hair again.

“We have to go, Shona. He’s going to be there soon. Your dad wants to talk to him.”

“What? Who? Where?”

“The library. I have to have you there by three. He’s going to meet us.”

“Meet us?” Longing suddenly cut deep across Shona’s heart. Sinclair froze and looked right into her eyes.

“That guy from yesterday, Shona. Don’t be mad at me, but I called him. He’s meeting us there. We’ve got to go.”

“I feel
really
strange
…
”

“We have to go to the library now. Please, Shona, get up so we can go.”

“Kitty, I am
v
ery
confused…”

Kitty went to the bed and sat. “The guy from the library? Your dad
thinks he might be able to help.”

Shona gave her a blank stare
.

“Your dad said Philip wouldn’t be able to take you if… if you were already…” Kitty bit her lip and began to tr
emble. “Oh, Shona, this is
too much for me. What is happening to you?”

“Happening to me? I do not understand… I… oh.” Shona had a sudden and very disturbing thought. “I was sleeping, wasn’t I?”

Kitty nodded, eyes wide, her mouth still trembling.

Shona reached up to let her fi
ngers roam her face. “Oh, no.”

“Your face changed, Shona. It was so freaky. I didn’t know what to do and these darn cats wouldn’t let me near you.” Kitty’s voice was perfectly controlled, even and solid— a sure sign she was close to panic.

Shona could only stare at her in horror, her own worst fear suddenly realized.
All the changes, all those nights, months worth.
They were all real.
"Oh. My. God."

Kitty hugged herself. "
I
have to take you to the library now. Please.”

Sinclair planted his forepaws against Shona's chest, his face in hers. She
stared dumbly at the cat in her lap,
her voice fl
at. “I think I am going crazy.”