Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (80 page)

Brennan began to laugh. “My, you’re a curious one. But how instinctive, I wonder?”

Dallan suddenly spun, his sword blocking Brennan’s own deadly blade. Brennan jumped back a few steps. “
Very instinctive, I see. Good.”

Dallan faced him now, his weapon ready, eyes narrowed to slits. “Where’s Shona?”

Br
ennan lunged, forcing him to fi
ght, the movements spinning the remaining drug throughout his body all over again. He stumbled once and nearl
y gave Brennan an opening, defl
ecting a lethal thrust only at the last moment. “That’s it! Fight me, you Scottish dog. I’ll make sure you bleed.”

Dallan r
ighted himself and took the off
ensive, driving Brennan back several yards before the drug left in his system challenged his sight and mind with a wave of dizziness.

Brennan’s blade was quick to slice into Dal
lan’s left arm. “A bit off -cent
er, are we? I told you this would happen.”

Dallan ignored the pain and glared at Brennan. “Ye
Sassenach
devil!
What ha’ ye done
wi
’ Shona?”

Brennan laughed heartily. “Why, she’s in the next room. But you’ll have to go through me to get to her. You want her badly, don’t you? Hungry?”

Dallan charged him, his blade eagerly seeking Brennan, the sudden wave of dizziness the worse enemy. The Englishman fought expertly, like
none he had ever encountered before, his moves not unlike those of his own time. Didn’t the heathen say Brennan was an ex-Time Master? Could he be from somewhere near the seventeenth century? He’d chosen a basket-hilted broadsword, like Dallan’s, and he knew exactly how to use it.

They broke off from each other, no openings to be found for either man as Julia cautiously entered the room. Brennan jumped back out of Dallan’s reach. “Is she waking?”

Julia looked from one man to the other, caution in her eyes. “Yes.”

Brennan grinned ear to ear with satisfaction. “Excellent.” He viciously attacked Dallan again, his thrusts quick and powerful, letting him know he’d been playi
ng with him earlier. Now the fi
ght was serious.

Dallan’s
dizziness seemed to be fi
ghting right along with Brennan, blurring his vision, his mov
ements not fast enough for effi
cient defense. The result was more wounds to his body, but none lethal—all meant to humiliate, not kill. Their blades separated and they broke off again. “Why d’ye toy
wi
’ me like this? Ye ken ye can take me.”

“And deprive your bride of seeing you bested? I think not. I’ll fetch her to you just as soon as I’ve spilled enough of your blood. I know you’re hungry for her. Your shared heart has not fed in awhile.”

“To show
her what a cur ye are.
Canna fi
ght
me on even terms. Ye ha’ to keep me drugged.
Yer no a warrior.
Yer no even a man.”

Brennan’s only answer was to lunge at him again, the strength of his blows doubled. Dallan wondered just how much of the drug still lingered that Brennan was so much stronger sensing he had the greater strength now, was still the better of the two.

Brennan obviously knew it as well. The coward.

Dallan took another slicing wound, this one to his right leg. He stumbled with dizziness and Brennan ignored the opening. Dallan knew his enemy wanted him to die slowly and was afraid to rush the job. His breathing difficult, sight again blurred, he took the opportunity to rest for
the brief moment off
ered. He noticed his wounds were
carefully infl
icted, placed in such a way that he would merely bleed to death. B
rennan wouldn’t even have to finish him with a fi
nal thrust.

The English dog knew what he was doing.

Brennan, obviously through bei
ng generous, attacked again.
Th
is time
without mercy.

 

* * *

 

“No! Don’t you do it, Evan! Don’t you leave me!

Maggie screamed as two paramedics worked fervently in a vain attempt at reviving the man.


Nooo
!” She wailed as she took in the look on the paramedic’s faces, all their attempts now ceased. “Try again! Do you hear me? Do it again!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” one of the paramedics began. “He’s not coming back.”

She spun to Lany standing in the doorway, his face locked in grave anger. He looked to her
, his sudden empathetic eyes fi
lling her own. “They’ve done all they can, Maggie.”

“What? How can you say that? I’m a nurse! I say when they’re done! Now try again!”

“Maggie,” Lany began as he knelt next to her on t
he bedroom fl
oor, his voice dropped to bar
ely a whisper. “Let them go. Th
ere’s another way to save him, but you have to trust me.”

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “Don’t joke with me. Don’t even!” She turned to Evan. “Oh, God, please…”

Lany leaned toward her. “Trust me.”

Their eyes locked and she nodded before turning to the paramedics. “Please don’t take him. Leave him here and send the coroner.”

They both nodded as one began to cover Evan with the blanket they’d placed over him earlier.

“No,” she began, shooting out a hand. “Leave him the way he is.”

“All right, ma’am. We’ll call it in.”

Maggie’s lower lip trembled. “Thank you.”

The paramedics left the room after a few more questions and the gathering of
equipment,
none too soon as far as Lany was concerned. He quickly turned to Evan once they were gone. “C’mon, Zara. Get here.”

“Zara?” Maggie’s voice squeaked out.

“She can bring him back. There’s still time.”

“Bring him back? She can do that? Oh please, yes! Where is she?”

“Here, Lady. I am right here.” Zara glided into the bedroom and went immediately to Evan, Kwaku close behind. She tur
ned to her husband after briefl
y exa
mining the still form on the fl
oor, her face grave. “He is deep in death, Kawahnee. Nearly gone. I can heal him but not alone.”

Kwaku closed his eyes a brief second and nodded before looking to Maggie. “You wish his life?”

“Yes! Please! Do something if you’re able. Don’t let him leave me! I’ll die without him.”

“Do you w
ant him badly enough to sacrifi
ce de life of
anoder
?”

 
She stared at him in shock. “What do you mean?”

 
Kwaku turned to Lany. “
Mos
-go-fi -an, yo
u and de Lord Councilor must fi
nd de Boyeee and de Maiden.”

“We don’t know where they are.” Lany reached into his pocket and handed Kwaku the message found in Julia’s car as Zara began to softly sing.

Kwaku read the brief note, ignoring Maggie’s su
dden gasp as Zara’s features fl
uxed. “If I help my wife wid your husband, de Boyeee and possibly even Shona, will die, unless someone can reach
dem
in time to stop Brennan.”

Speech seemed beyond Maggie at his words. All she could do was shake her head then look frantically to Evan.

“Kwaku, we haven’t the slightest idea where Brennan has taken them.” Lany told him, his voice grave. “Zara can’t feel either one of them.”

“Dat is good, and means
dey
are safe for now. Drugged. Brennan will not play wid a dead mouse. He likes his catch live.”

Lany’s eyes narrowed to slits. “How like Brennan. I got rid of the medical people. You have some time before others arrive.”

Kwaku nodded without looking at him, his eyes on his wife’s weary form.

Lany touched Kwaku’s shoulder.
“We can’t risk losing Dallan or Shona. You know that.”

“Yes,
Mos
-go-fi -an, I know.” He looked Lany in the eye. “An
d if it were your mate on de fl
oor, death wrapping itself around her, taking her life, would you
have me leave her and try to fi
nd de Boyeee? Or would you be like dis woman, desperate for her mate’s survival?”

Lany closed his eyes as Kwaku patted him on the back. “And I would do de same.” He turned to John, who had just entered the room, Angus shuffling close behind. “Maybe dere will be enough
streng
-d left for my wife and I to fi
nd de Boyeee and de Maiden. But we see if it be de Cr
eator’s will to save dis one fi
rst.”

John dropped to his knees near Lany. “What are you saying? Enough strength left? Couldn’t
Zara search for Brennan and fi
nd them that way?”

“He is totally incompatible to her,” Kwaku whispered. “She would be harmed if she searched for him now. My heart will join wid my wife to heal dis man. After dat, we will bode be very weak. I
will not be able to help you fi
ght Brennan should it come to dat. We may not even be able to search for
dem
once
dey
no longer have Brennan’s poison in deir bodies.”

John shook his head. “We’ve come so far…” He turned to Lany. “Can you sense an
ything? Do you think you can fi
nd the Maiden?”

“Eaton, I’m not capable of searching for anything. I needed Zara’s help just to communicate with her!”

Kwaku joined his wife and wrapped her up in his arms, then, to everyone’s amazement, began to sing with her. John again turned to Lany. “We have no one else now. You’ve got to try.”

Lany shook his head, “Eaton, I don’t know how.”

John rubbed his face with his hands. He scanned the room before letting his eyes land on Angus. “Suggestions?”

“Aye,” Angus began his face grave. “Pray, Lord John. Pray for a miracle.”

 

* * *

 

Julia watched horrifi
ed at the savage brutality with which both men fought.
At fi
rst Philip seemed to be the better of the two, but now th
e Scot was utilizing a diff
erent style, his moves quicker, closer together. Given enough time, he would beat Philip.

She cringed as the blades collided, the sound ringing with impending death for one or both men. What would she do if they both died? Shona also would die, leaving her with nothing, no one. Alone.

Julia slowly made her way along the wall, staying well away from the battle waging across the room where bot
h men’s blood was making the floor slippery, the fi
ghting more hazardous. She had to do something fast.

Reaching the weapons rack, she pulled from it a long staff of wood and slowly crept along the wall again in the direction of the warriors, blades still singing a death song. If she was to save Shona, one of the men would have to live, and she could see that at this point it wouldn’t be Philip. As much blood as the Scot had already lost, he still fought like a savage, Philip now unable to judge his moves and method. Philip had been wrong; he would lose unless she did something to help.

Julia continued toward them, the smell of blood clear in the air. When she reached her destination, she carefully edged as close to the men as possible, footing difficult, and positioned herself behind the Scot as best she could. She noticed how gracefully he fought and became shocked to realize he had h
is eyes closed, his face briefl
y facing her as he twisted away from Philip’s blade. The Scot was battling with his new heart alone, the drug still pulling at him.

“Amazing,” she whispered in awe. If only she could save both Shona and her mate somehow. What a study they would make for her! She’d planned on helping Philip kill him, but perhaps…

The Scot jumped back into her range and she quickly took advantage. She swung the quarterstaff as hard as she could, the wood connecting squarely with the side of his head. Th
e blow knocked him to the fl
oor and
into his own blood. Philip would live!

“You fool!” Philip screamed in rage as he raced toward her. He wrenched the staff from her hands and threw it across the room to boun
ce off one wall and onto the fl
oor, the sound echoing loudly. He grabbed her to him and viciously slapped her across the face to send her sprawling. “How dare you
interrupt!
Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve ruined it for me, you little witch!”

She tried to scra
mble out of reach, the slick floor thwarting her eff
orts. “No! I saved you! He would have killed you!”

Philip dropped his sword, grabbed her again and roughly pulled her to her feet. “I had him! He was mine! Now he may die while merely stunned! You’ve ruined everything!” He slapped her again, but didn’t release his hold, one hand now around her throat. “I’ll teach you to interfere!”

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