Dark Rival (8 page)

Then he touched her hair. “I like ye, too.”

Allie was briefly dismayed, but his eyes were so warm that the confusion vanished. Lots of men could not say the L word.

Aidan cleared his throat. “Mayhap a glass of wine before I leave? To celebrate matters of the bed—an' the heart?” He was amused.

Allie didn't quite get it, but Royce seemed a bit annoyed again. However, he started to turn back to the massive sideboard where a wine rack was placed in one of the glass cabinets. He faltered.

Aidan's shoulders stiffened.

Darkness descended at lightning speed—and so did an arctic cold.

Aidan rushed to the wall display of swords, lifting one from its sheath. He took one look at the dull blade and flung it aside. As he lifted another, Royce opened a chest and withdrew a semiautomatic. “Aidan.” He tossed an unsheathed sword at him. And Aidan caught it easily by the hilt. Allie run to Royce as the demons formed in their midst.

“Stay back ,” he said.

She was about to argue when the blow came, taking her by surprise, before she could even try to shield herself. She cried out, hurled across the entire great room, slamming into the stone of the fireplace.

Royce roared in fury, firing.

Allie got to her hands and knees, watching Aidan beheading a half a dozen demons with so much skill and speed it might have been the final cut from a Hollywood movie. Royce was firing at the same demon that had attacked them in South Hampton, but the demon had put up his energy and the bullets were deflected, scattering everywhere.

She took up a poker but remained where she was. Aidan was doing a good job with the remaining demons, and Royce and the blonde from South Hampton seemed to be intent only on each other. This time, though, if he came close, she'd get more than his eyeball: she was going for his unfeeling heart.

Royce now threw the useless semi aside. He blasted his energy at the demon, who blocked it and grinned, revealing white, gleaming teeth.

Allie tensed in alarm, thinking. No, Royce!

A dagger had appeared in his hand, but as if he’d heard her cry out silently, as if he knew she was desperate to go to his side and help him. Royce turned to look at her. “Ye stay back.”

The demon threw a knife at Royce. Allie saw it; he did not. She screamed in warning.

Royce whirled back but the blade impaled him in his chest as he moved.

Allie froze in horror.

For one moment. Royce stood upright, unmoving—and he threw the dagger. He threw it with unbelievable accuracy and Allie realized he would nail the sonuvabitch. But the blond demon vanished the instant the blade seemed to pierce his chest and it fell to the floor. The two remaining demons also disappeared, leaving behind the dozen dead on the great room floor—and Royce.

He reeled and fell over onto his back.

The hilt of the knife protruded from his heart.

Allie rushed to his side and fell onto her knees, pouring her white light over him. He was not going to die, no matter how bad it looked! He couldn't die—he was a hero, a Master, the savior of mankind and the love of her life!

She hadn't raised the dead girl, but surely she could save Royce!

Panic began.

Royce took her hand. He was deathly white. But he smiled. “Nay, lass. Let me go.”

He was dying. She felt his life spinning away, But she could heal him—she would heal him. In panic, she poured all the white light she could muster on him, trying to hold her terror at bay.

“Ailios!” Royce's grasp tightened his gaze on hers. “Let me die.”

Allie looked at him in horror. “Don't talk. You don't mean it. I won't let you die! I love you!”

“Please,” Royce said softly. And his grasp loosened.

And she felt his life soaring away from him. She saw a white-gold light lifting from him. “No!” Frantic, she poured white power over him, through him, but everything was happening too fast now,

Royce looked up at Aidan. Let me go. T'is time.

And strong hands seized Allie from behind.

But she had heard Royce, and she screamed, furious at Aidan terrified, struggling, but Aidan wouldn't release her. Panicking, she flung white light at Royce, but Aidan was interfering with her powers—and Royce was leaving
 
rapidly now.

Aidan, take her away, protect her.

“No!”

Royce smiled at her—and the white-gold light swirled upward, into the ceiling—his gray eyes becoming sightless.

Allie screamed. “Nooo!” And she fought to go to him, the white-gold light hovering above them, but Aidan pulled her away.

ALLIE WEPT AND WEPT.

The paramedics had Royce's body on the stretcher, covered with a cloth, and were wheeling him from the room. Two local police cars were parked inside the courtyard, the officers in the hall with Aidan and Mrs. Farlane. The housekeeper, who was crying, clearly knew about her employer's secrets. The dead demons, of course, were gone. Their bodies had started disintegrating immediately, and unless there was a crime scene investigation, no traces of them would be found. But from the murmur of voices, and the snippets of conversation she'd heard, Allie knew the police knew the truth. One officer was already talking about the Highland gangs run amok these past few years, a favorite cover-up for these kinds of battles. The other had already called Scotland Yard. The British government probably had their version of CDA, too.

How could he be gone?

Allie doubled over from the sheer pain of her grief. Too late, she understood Tabby's reading. Then she heard footsteps.

She looked up. Aidan stood there, his face ravaged, a single tear tracking down his cheek. She didn't hesitate. She jumped up and ran at him, fists balled. He caught her arm as she swung, she lifted her knee, wanting to emasculate him, but he twisted and easily avoided that assault, then caught her in a viselike embrace.

She fought him, wanting to rip his handsome face apart. She wanted blood. He had prevented her from healing Royce—she could have saved him. “I hate you!” she screamed. “Let me go! I will never forgive you—you bastard!”

He released her and she pounded his chest, hurting her fists because he was a wall of muscle. He caught her wrists. “Lass, cease. I love him, too.” His voice broke.

Allie collapsed against the solid wall of his body, weeping again. This could not be happening. Royce was a great man, a great hero, a Master. He deserved to live! Aidan held her loosely now and she needed the comfort he could offer, when there was no real comfort to be had.

Let me go.

Why had he wanted to die?

How old are you?

It doesna matter, Ailios.

So much grief and pain, such a beautiful man…

I have waited a long time for this night.

Allie trembled, but stopped crying. He had waited five hundred and seventy-seven years for her.

Aidan released her and walked away.

Allie wiped her eyes, her heart slamming, turning to gaze after him. He was pouring two huge glasses of whiskey. He drained most of his, then started toward her with the other tall glass. “You're a Master, too.”

He faltered before offering her the glass.

Allie shook her head. “You can travel through time; don't even try to deny it. You said you followed Royce here from 1430.”

His eyes were wary now. “Does it matter?"

“Oh, yes, it does.”

He stared, then murmured. “MacNeil asked me to follow Royce. When he left ye here, I should have gone home to Awe, to the time where I belong, but I went to Rome. I need to go back to my time.”

She stated, her mind scrambling.

Sympathy had filled his blue eyes. “Lass, I will take ye home, I just need to think a moment because ye need a Master to aid ye now, here, in yer time.”

She didn't know what he was talking about. ‘Take me back in time!” she cried, trembling wildly. “I am not going home! I need to go back in time, to earlier today or even to last night. I’ll tell him what will happen—we'll stop it this time! I'll go back in time to stop his murder!” This was the answer; of course it was. To go back in time—and prevent his death.

Aidan paled. “Ye canna go back in time an’ change the future... t’is forbidden.”

“Who cares?” she cried. “I must stop Royce from being murdered! You must help me!"

“I canna break such a rule.”

“What?” She was shocked. And then she was furious. “You hate rules. They're a cage for your soul!” He would refuse her now. What was wrong with him?

“Lass, the rules I break are the petty ones, MacNeil will take my head if I take ye back so ye can change this day.” He was dark and grim now. “Besides, Royce wished to leave this life. I have heard him say, many times, that he's tired of the fight. Ye'll nay change his mind, not in a single day.”

Allie stared at him, incredulous, disbelieving. Her mind spun and raced. He wasn't going to take her back to earlier that day or yesterday; she could see it in his eyes. Royce had wanted to die. She had to accept that, even if she couldn't understand it. And he wasn’t going to change in a single day.

She breathed hard. Her senses told her that Aidan knew Royce well and he was telling her the truth. Instantly Allie changed her plans. To undo his death she needed time with him—time to convince him he had a future worth fighting for.

And she wanted time with him—a lifetime—even if it was in the primitive past.

He must have sensed what she intended, because his eyes went wide. “Nay.”

“I haven't asked you yet!”

He shook his head and then drained half of her drink.

“Take me back with you.” A wild determination hardened.

He stared back. “To 1430? Royce will have my head.”

“No, you don't understand. When we met the other night, he came to me from the fifteenth century. He left me here— but waited for me for almost six hundred years. Don't you get it? There's a reason we met that way. He loves me. I love him. You're going back—take me to him. Take me to him in your time,” she begged fiercely.

He inhaled. “Lass, lust an’ love are hardly the same.”

She seized his hand. “I am going with you.”

And Aidan hesitated.

Allie knew an opening when she saw one. “Please. I will do anything, anything, to go back with you to Royce.”

“Ye offer me yer bed?” He was incredulous.

“Anything...but that!”

He shook his head, still ready to refuse. “Ye willna like my time. Ye willna like Royce very well in my time, either.”

“You can't deny me. Please.” Her grip tightened. Panic began. He had to do this for her. He looked into her eyes. “Are ye certain, Lady Allie? Are ye truly certain? What if yer wrong. What if Royce doesna love ye as ye love him?”

“I am certain,” she cried, clinging now to his large hand with both of hers.

He drained the drink, murmured, “Royce left ye here fer a reason. I dinna ken,” and pulled her into his embrace. Allie held on tight. And they were flung across the room, through the walls and into the universe—back to 1430.

CHAPTER FOUR

Carrick
Castle
, Morvern, Scotland—1430

SHE OPENED HER EYES, the torment finally receding. Allie somehow breathed. This time bad felt even worse than the previous one and she was amazed she was alive. While in the throes of bone-breaking pain, she'd thought she would actually die. Now she became aware of a pounding headache threatening to split her skull. Allie stared up at a high ceiling with timbers. High on stone walls, stunning stained glass windows radiated from the sunlight outside.

“Rest a moment more.”

She blinked and saw Aidan standing above her, arms folded, and all recollection returned. Royce had been murdered and she had gone back in time. Grief rose up. choking her. but she fought it. Instead she thought about the fact that traveling through time was hell. She hoped to never do it again, at least, not until there was no other choice in order to return home. And the gods only knew when that would be.

She sat up, still somewhat weak and very shaken. Her body felt as if it had been stretched out like elastics and pounded with hammers. But since the night before the fundraiser when she'd tried to bring that girl back from the dead, her body had been through hell. Making love to Royce had to have taken its toll too. “Did we make it? What time Line we in?” she managed to ask. She sounded hoarse.

He gave her a look. “T’is
May 15, 1430
.”

She started. “And you know that how?”

“I dinna have to look at a calendar, lass. T'is almost two weeks since I followed Royce to the future.” He added. “I decided to give Royce some time to forget ye.”

Allie got to her feet. “He isn't going to forget me in a week or two. He waited six centuries for me, remember?” She glanced around. They were in a beautiful church or chapel. There were rows of highly polished wood pews on either side of the knave, and an altar at the far end. She stared, confused, at a beautiful, gilded, bejeweled crucifix with Jesus hanging there. “Why are we in a Catholic church?”

“We’re in Carrick's chapel. Everyone's Catholic, lass, even the Masters.”

Allie just looked at him. The Masters were blessed by the Ancients, not Christ. He had to be wrong. But she didn't really care. Her heart began to accelerate and she started down the knave, toward the oversize wooden door.

She heard Aidan following.

But before she could pull the heavy door open, he laid his hand on it, keeping it closed. “Have a care, lass,” he said.

She turned. “I haven't forgiven you, but thank you for bringing me here. Now, let go. I have to find Royce.”

Aidan said softly. “I'm very sure he willna be pleased to see ye.”

Allie dismissed his comment as absurd and pulled open the door. She stepped into Carrick inner ward—and she faltered.

She had asked to go back in time. But she hadn't really had a chance to think about what to expect. Vaguely she recognized the courtyard, even though it was not cobbled. She saw the entrance to the largest building across from her and knew that inside was the great hall. The corner towers were the same. But that was it.