CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HE LANDED IN THE MIDST of Urquhart’s inner ward.
He leapt forward in time by mere moments.
He wished to carry those new, passionate memories of Brianna with him, as he did her ring.
He would take them to his grave if she was right about his hanging.
He was becoming convinced that her predictions were correct.
He knew with his sixth and seventh senses that this was, finally, his last confrontation with Moray, and he intended to be the victor.
If he was accused of treason afterward, perhaps he wouldn’t dispute the charges.
He was so tired of the hopelessness and grief.
He slowly sat up. The bailey was filled with royal troops, their women and servants—the former bloody and muddy, clearly having returned from a battle.
It was chaotic within, and he had arrived mostly unnoticed.
But two women must have seen him appear like an apparition out of the gray chill, for they stared at him, then rushed away across patches of melting ice, frantically crossing themselves.
He stood and marched to the front doors of the great hall, where the king’s favorite lieutenant would be. I am here. Show yourself.
Soft, cruel laughter sounded behind him—no, above him. I am waiting, my son.
The guards at the great doors stepped aside.
Clearly, he was expected. Aidan stepped into a huge, raftered room, filled with English and Lowland noblemen, Highlanders and their servants as well as several beautiful, well-dressed courtesans.
Lord Frasier stood before one of the three great hearths, hands clasped behind his back. He slowly turned as Aidan approached.
His dark eyes flamed blue and turned red. “Welcome to Urquhart.”
At the sound of that familiar, mocking tone, Aidan fought the profound rage he’d lived with for most of his life. This deamhan had forced him to destroy Innocence. He knew now that he’d live with the regret, the horror, for so long.
Too late, he blocked his thoughts.
“Blood tells,” Frasier snarled. “You dare to stand before me, filled with guilt? Then you are more like your mother, the saintly Lady Margaret!”
And now, by God, he hoped so. “Is my son dead or alive?” Aidan demanded. The words had formed themselves without premeditation.
Instantly he knew he had revealed his greatest weakness.
A cruel smile played over Frasier’s dark face.
“You have defied me since you were a small boy. You defy me still. You defy me when you let Innocence live, you defy me by standing before me, in guilt, in shame. You defy me when you desire the fair Brianna and you defy me when you take her to bed. You belong to me. You are mine.”
Chills swept Aidan, the sensation entirely unfamiliar. “I belong to no one,” he said harshly, and then he thought he felt Brianna’s ring, hot against his chest. Moray knew too much. Because of Aidan, Brianna was in the midst of their war, dangerously so. Once again, he was afraid for her.
He had lost Ian. He couldn’t lose her to evil, too.
“Do you really think I’d let young Ian live?” Frasier cried. “And if I did, do you think I would let you take him back?”
More games. Despair rose up and as hope was crushed, fury arose. “Ye played me another time. Ye lied, yet again.”
Frasier came close and said softly, “Lady Tabitha was under my spell. I am all powerful now. There is no greater entity in Alba! I chased her guides away,” Moray mocked him.
Aidan met Moray’s cruel, sadistic gaze. “Good. The truth, at last.” Before he could draw his sword, a dozen giants, all possessed with extraordinary strength, seized him.
He knew he could fling them off, one by one, but he did not attempt to do so.
“What do ye want?” he asked. “Because I willna do yer evil. Ye canna turn me now.”
“No son defies his father and no one defies me,” Frasier cried, red eyes ablaze. “You will pay for your defiance. Only then will you die.”
“I have paid. Ye stole my son. Ye took his life.”
“By defying me, you deny me your great powers, which should be mine! Only one of us can triumph—the goddess said so. It will be me.” Moray trembled in anger.
Aidan stared, wondering if a goddess had actually promised Moray victory. If so, that would explain his hanging. “Which goddess do ye consort with? Is that how ye survived Malcolm’s beheading?”
Moray smiled. “Aye. Faola saved me that day.”
“Why would a goddess help ye survive?”
Moray snarled, “I’m her son. Once, I was her favorite.”
Aidan went still. He was the son of a deamhan and the grandson of a great goddess. It explained so much. It explained the Choosing and his healing powers. It explained why he had never been entirely turned.
“Long ago, I served the Brotherhood,” Moray said. “The fall is not what you fear. The fall frees a man. The fall could have freed you. Faola helped me survive the vanquishing because of the trial between us. ’Tis written.”
Aidan tensed. This war was written by the gods?
“She was so hot and lovely last night,” Moray whispered in his ear.
Horror began. His heart thundered. “Ye win. I give up.”
“Really?” Moray laughed. “I will take your lady love and use her endlessly. I will cause her unimaginable pain, and even greater fear.”
Aidan’s racing heart slowed. He would never allow Brianna such a Fate. A ruthless calm descended. He would gladly give his life for Brianna Rose. Once he was gone, Moray would have no reason to hunt her, torture her and murder her.
She deserved that much from him.
He looked at his father.
Moray smiled. “Your power is still so fresh, but it doesn’t match mine.”
Aidan sent all of his power at him, as he had never used it before.
Moray answered in kind.
Their powers met in the short distance between them with explosive force. Chairs fell, the table cracked, lights fell and fires started. Aidan was hurled backward by the explosion, into the wall.
Before he could get up, a blade pierced his throat. He looked up at Moray, who smiled down at him. “Will you die for her?”
“Yes.”
“Arrest him.”
As he was seized again, Aidan instinctively tried to leap back in time, to the moment he had left Brie at Awe. Nothing happened.
Moray laughed. “You are trapped,” he said.
Shocked, Aidan breathed hard and attempted the same leap.
He had been trapped in space and time.
brIE HOPPED INTO HER JEANS. Barefoot, she ran down the hall and the narrow spiral staircase, stumbling as she did so. As she burst into the great room, she wiped her wet face with her sleeve.
Tabby and Allie sat in two huge chairs before a roaring fire, Claire on a footstool with them. They had their heads together and were in a frantic and hushed conversation. Not one of their husbands was present. The moment Brie barged inside, they leapt to their feet.
Brie ran to them. “Aidan is confronting Moray! He has gone to Urquhart—where he will hang.”
Tabby steadied her, her amber eyes filled with worry. “Brie, we think we’ve figured out what to do about Moray.”
“That’s great,” Brie cried, “but you can tell me all about it after we leap to Urquhart. Where’s Malcolm? Where’s Guy? Where’s Royce, damn it?”
“Malcolm and Royce went to Urquhart to plead his case before Frasier,” Claire said grimly.
“Then where’s Guy?” Brie cried. “He can take us!” A glance out of a window as she ran downstairs had her blinded by the whiteness outside. It must have snowed a foot last night. Ordinary travel would be impossible. They would have to leap, as Aidan had done.
Tabby took her hand. “I found a Wisdom,” she whispered.
Brie faced her, fighting her panic. Wisdom was dispersed throughout the two thousand pages of the Book.
Sometimes the verse was so damned cryptic, it could take days to try to figure out—and even then, they wouldn’t know if they were wrong or right until they attempted to carry out whatever Wisdom had been proffered. “Go ahead,” she said.
Tabby spoke softly from memory.
“Sleeping evil
The ripest time
To reap protection.
Alas the devil
Bemoans design
Set free the Keepers of the Faith.”
“Oh, great,” Brie cried. “Another frigging holy riddle. He could be hanged by the time we figure this out!”
Allie showered her with a soothing light. “I guess you’re head-over-heels. I have never seen you panicked before, not ever, and we’ve been in a few big jams.”
“I will love him for eternity, and he loves me,” Brie said, and she threw her arms around Allie. “But I have a terrible feeling.”
“Has he come back to us?” Claire asked, eyes wide.
“Yes, he has,” Brie said without a single doubt. “But this summons is a diabolical setup!”
Tabby said, “We need to find out where Moray’s body is when his evil is in another human being.”
Brie looked at her quickly. “You have my undivided attention now.”
“That Wisdom is not cryptic at all,” Tabby said.
“When evil sleeps, the devil is in trouble and it’s the time for us to reap our triumph.
I am certain this refers to Moray leaving his body to possess another being,” she continued earnestly.
“Where is he when he is Lord Frasier? What is he?” She added seriously, “He is somewhere, and I am guessing he’s not walking around.
You guys need to figure it out. Meanwhile, I have a spell. ”
Brie prayed. “What kind of spell?” she asked.
“A spell to block his energy from going back to his body, so we can get rid of the sonuvabitch once and for all,” Tabby said. Her golden eyes flashed.
Brie felt relief flood her. There was hope.
Footsteps sounded. They were alone in the great room, but Brie knew guards were at the exterior doors and that no one could enter who should not. The guards opened the doors and Nick Forrester sauntered in, dressed like a commando, carrying a backpack, a machine gun slung over his shoulder.
Brie gasped. It took her a moment to really assimilate that he was in the great hall at Awe in medieval times. The Masters weren’t the only ones who could time-travel.
Hadn’t she always sensed that there was more to Nick than met the eye?