Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (75 page)

The company watched in awe as he faced himself a brief moment, the light forming a mirror image of the Weapons Master, before it began to enter him through his chest and seep its way back to where it belonged.

The entire building shook with the impact. Dallan gripped Shona’s hands and loudly groaned as her inner heart continued to enter him. It seared into his very core, burning a path to its new home, into the once broken heart of the Highlander. A heart made new by the Maiden and her song. A heart now fully joined
with her own
.

The
Sutyne
had run its course. They were joined.

The light completely gone, her strength spent, Shona fell into Dallan’s arms. Dallan however, was looking about himself as he held her, head high, eyes intense, and all senses fully alert and ready.

“Oh, living stars, Eaton, look at him,” Lany gulped as he watched the Weapons Master stare at the collapsed Mai
den, his look fi
ercely possessive and hard as steel.

“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt her. He’s adjusting to her heart. It might take him several days. He has her
full
attributes now too, remember.”

Lany glanced at Kwaku who stood to one side, Zara in his arms, a proud smile on his face. Lany smiled and chuckled lightly to himself. “Right.”

“Weel,” Angus began as he detached himself from the bench he’d tangled himself in. “Kissing the bride is one thing, but this tops anything I’ve seen. What happens now?”

Lany stood and approached the still kneeling couple. “Now they go to the room Zara prepared earlier and have their privacy while we all get a good nights…”

Dallan’s head spun to Lany, eyes narrowed to slits, their color so intense they almost glowed. He drew Shona closer and growled low in his throat.

Lany stopped in mid-stride. “Then again, maybe not,” he quickly looked over his shoulder to John.

“Stay away from him, Lany. He’s not quite back with us yet.”

“Do tell? How long?” Lany drawled as he began to back up.

“Give him a minute or two.”

Kwaku began to laugh and approach
Dallan from the rear. “He is fi
ne, Lord Councilor. Let us take
dem
back inside.”

“Kawahnee! No!” Zara raced to stop her husband.

Too late.
Dallan let out a howl of anger, grabbed Kwaku’s clothing at the waist a
nd threw him into Angus’s sunflower display thirty
feet away.

Kwaku groaned, sat up slowly and let loose a weak chuckle.

“Stars, Kwaku, you of all people should know better,” Lany commented c
almly, fi
ghting back laughter.

Zara stood with the others. “He knows, Councilor, but he is too curious for his own good.” She turned to whe
re Kwaku sat sprawled. “Satisfi
ed?”

  
Kwaku laughed heartily. “He will now be a challenge! Ha! I have not had a challenge in a long time!”

Zara shook her head and turned to the couple. Dallan appeared to be calmer; his eyes less intense, his arms holding the Maiden gently as he tenderly looked at her. “Dallan, how do you feel?”

He raised his head and brie
fl
y studied the company. “Lady?” he rasped. “Saints, what happened?”

Zara knelt beside him. “How do you feel?”

“I… I feel good. In fact, verra good.”

“And your heart?”

“My heart?” He thought a moment and looked to Shona who appeared half-asleep. He raised her face to his own, her tired eyes locking with his.
“My heart is fi
ne, Lady. I’m whole again.” He looked to Zara. “But she’s tired and weak. What does she need? Does she need her music?”

“No, Dallan, not her music. What she needs
is
you. You must now strengthen her. She has given you back your heart. Now share it with her. Join again.”

Dallan looked to Shona and whispered, “Aye.” He tightened his hold on the Maiden and stood. “Where?”

Zara smiled. “I took the liberty of arranging the rear room downstairs. You will be comfortable there until we leave in the morning.”

 
Dallan looked to the night sky. “’Tis not far off then.”

“No,
Dallan. Morning is not far off
.”

Shona raised her face to her husband’s. “Dallan?”

“Aye, lassie, how d’ye feel? Are ye all right?” He began to carry her to the stair’s entrance behind the holly bush, the rest of the company following.

“I am tired. And hungry.” Her voice was breathy, passionate.

Dallan stopped and raised a single brow at her, then threw a look at Lany.

Zara laughed and leaned to Lany’s ear. “I am not the only one who feeds in such a manner. Music is passion, Councilor, and though music is her main food, she has the luxury of variety.”

Dallan shot him a triumphant smile.

Lany quickly turned to John. “I want to go home.
To my wife.
Now.”

John laughed with the rest of the company and followed Dal
lan downstairs to the ground fl
oor of the shop.

When they reached the room prepared for the couple, John let go a tired sigh. “Well, congratulations and, have a good night.”

  
Dallan smiled as Shona wrapped her arms around his neck. She took in the smiles and bright eyes of the company then looked at Dallan expectantly and swallowed hard.

Dallan began to carry her through the door. “What is it,
M’flur
?
What’s wrong?”

“Dallan, I… I…” She swallowed again and whispered something in his ear while the rest of the company watched.

Dallan’s eyes got wide and he smiled, then laughed and kissed her on the nose. He shot the rest a mischievous look before turning back to her, one foot slowly closing the door. “I’ll grant yer an innocent, lass, as am I. But dinna worry, Flower, there
’s two o’ us. We’re bound to fi
gure it out by morning.”

The door closed and the company left, smiles on their faces. In a few hours, if all worked out, they would be going home.

On that dark and fateful night

Th
ey broke my bower and slew my knight,

Just in my soft and longing arms

Where I believed him free from harms,

Th
ey placed his tender gentle breast

And left me with sad
griefs
oppressed.

And was I not a weary sight,

A maid, wife, widow all in a night?

A Sentimental Ballad Written

of
the Glencoe Massacre.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Shona attempted to stretch but didn’t get far. Dallan held her tightly against his body. She welcomed the embrace that until last night she had never known. It was strong, powerful, protective, and safe. A continuation of what the couple shared earlier and would share the rest of their lives.

Dallan loved her.

He had spoken, whispered, even cried out those three precious words not hours ago. And though he had given them while deep in the throes of passion, he had also seared her heart afterward not only with his voice, but his heart’s voice as well.

And she had loved him in return.

She thought on what ha
ppened and realized no words fi
t, no mortal description was worthy of the experience. All she could think was to thank God He’d made her and her new husband the way He had.
For the fi
rst time in her life, Shona was fully aware of what she was, a beautiful picture painted by the Creator.
A totally unique individual who, as a Muiraran with a mate, became whole.

Content with the thought, she attempted another stretch and this time was able to free her legs from Dallan’s.

“Unless ye need to take care o’ some private business, lass, I’ll no let ye go yet,” Dallan’s deep, velvet voice whispered into one ear. “Yer too much a comfort.”

He loosened his hold enough t
o let her fi
nish stretching then pulled her around to face him. Their eyes locked and he kissed her gently. Neither spoke, or needed to with voice or heart, their actions and eyes spoke for them. They gazed at each other in the dim light of dawn creeping through the window, both recalling the previous hours, reveling in the thought they were now one.

After the room brightened a bit more, Dallan propped himself up on an elbow and tweaked Shona’s nose. “Yer a rare sight in the morning, Flower. I ha’ a feeling temptation ‘twould cause me to keep us a-bed long after sunrise.”

Shona smiled at him.
I love you.

Dallan gripped her with a possessive stare.
I know.
He kissed her tenderly and settled down to cradle her in the crook of his arm. “’Tis early yet. Sleep some more. Ye’ll need it,
M’eudain
, for what’s to come.”

“What is that?” She asked, fi
nding her voice.

He tightened his embrace. “The journey home, lass. ‘Tis up to us to get everyone there.”

“Us? But what are we to do? Where is home? Is it… in another time, Dallan?”

“Aye, lassie. I’m told we now ha’ the power to split time. Just like the Lady and the heathen.”

“That is how you came to me?”

He kissed her forehead. “Aye, Flower. But only after ye called me here.”

She looked up into his eyes. “I am glad you answered.”

Dallan let go a chuckle. “Yer not the only one, lass. Sleep now. ‘Twill be time to leave soon enough and I dinna want ye tired. I’ll take no chances
wi
’ ye.” He yawned and kissed the top of her head.

Renewed slumber came easily for him and soon his body relaxed, his breathing calm and even. Shona fought fatigue long enough to listen to him softly snore, the sound unfamiliar yet comforting. She smiled then snuggled closer and closed her eyes to lose herself in the comfort of his arms and let sleep again claim her.

It didn’t claim her for long.

When she woke, Dallan had loosed his hold on her. She still rested in the crook of his arm, but had the freedom to get up without disturbing him. She did, and slowly crept from the bed with a stealth she’d not known she possessed.

She stood a moment and watched him sleep. He w
as a striking combination of fi
erce warrior, peaceful slumber and raw masculinity, and the picture made her smile. She couldn’t believe she was now married to this man. But then, there had been so many things she found hard to believe over the past several
days,
some so fantastic she had questioned her own sanity. But circumstances, actions and the man slumbering on the bed before her made it all come to life, made it all true.

Shona reached a hand to her face an
d traced her features with a fi
nger. She was not human. She was Muiraran. An entire race was her own, one she had never even heard of before. But others knew—Philip, Julia, the men who had helped Dallan. They all knew. What would be in store for
them now?

She continued pondering as she sought her clothes. What of she and Dallan? They were wed, joined, connected in a way no one from her current century would or could ever believe. Well, with a few exceptions. Kitty would believe it.

Kitty…

Shona threw the Muiraran dress over herself and let it slide down her body into place, not bothering with the belt. She grabbed Dallan’s worn plaid and wrapped it about her shoulders before venturing from the room. She ne
eded to fi
nd a phone. She needed to say goodbye to Kitty and perhaps gather a few of her things.

She ventured out into the hall and paused. What things? What could she take into a world she knew absolutely nothing about? She licked her lips and began to breathe harder than necessary. Swallowing, s
he realized what she would defi
nitely need, no matter where or
when
she was.

She was hungry, furiously so, and knew she needed her music. But it was all at the house. She licked her lips again, ran a hand through her hair and headed down the hall, her breathing shaky now. She had not fed in a long while.
The music from the symphony not enough to carry her through the night and into the next day.

Shona entered the room she, Dallan and the others had occupied the night before, knowing a phone was there. Her hands were shaking as she quickly dialed Kitty’s number.

“Hello?” answered a sleepy voice.

“Kitty?”

“Shona?”

Shona swallowed, half out of relief, half out of hunger. “Kitty, I am at the weapons shop downtown. I need to talk to you before I go.”