Authors: Maeve Greyson
Tags: #Time Travel, #Fantasy, #Demons-Gargoyles, #Witches
Self-consciousness heated her cheeks. Emma felt like a schoolgirl caught out with the wrong boy after curfew. Brushing the back of her hand across her flaming face, Emma avoided Alex’s penetrating stare. Why should she feel like she’d been dishonest? She’d never promised Alex anything more than an attempted truce. And all he’d ever asked of her was friendship. How she lived her life outside of the clinic was none of anyone’s business. “The rutted out road washed away before I realized it. I had no idea flood waters could rise so fast.”
“Saints be praised! Yer all right.” Moira rushed out from behind the door to the storage closet and crushed Emma against her buxom, lavender-scented bosom. “We thought for sure ye’d washed out to sea when we couldn’t find ye anywhere near the truck.”
Peeling herself out of Moira’s pillowed embrace, Emma grabbed the fretting woman’s fluttering hands. “I’m fine, Moira. I’m all right and I’m so sorry about Alfred’s truck. I promise I’ll pay for all the repairs.”
“Pshaw!” Moira huffed, squeezing both Emma’s hands as though fearing Emma might evaporate into thin air. “The important thing is yer alive and well. Many a wretched soul has drowned when that passage overflows from the heavy rains.”
Remembering the roaring ferocity of the water, Emma struggled to slow her hammering heart before it pounded out of her chest. A weak smile trembled at the corners of her mouth while Emma inhaled a calming breath. “Luckily for me, my friend Torin came along. If not for him, I probably would’ve drowned.”
“Torin.” Alex spit the name as if it was a curse. “The man from the pub? The one ye threatened to kill if he showed up at your croft again?”
Emma snapped around at the heated edge to Alex’s tone, growing uneasy at the sudden irritation firing from his eyes. Choosing her words with selective care, Emma did her best not to over-think his reaction. Alex was just concerned about the clinic’s investment. It would be expensive to set up another grant to secure a pediatrician from overseas.
“Ye threatened to kill a man?” Moira whispered, her eyes rounding in wide-eyed surprise behind her pearlized spectacles.
Emma stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Moira took everything too literally. “I didn’t mean it when I said I was going to strangle him—and both Alex and Torin knew that.”
“Ye seemed fairly certain ye wanted nothing to do with the man when ye stomped your way out of the pub,” Alex challenged with an accusing frown.
Aggravation tightened her jaw. Disbelief stoked the flames of irritation flowing through her veins. What the hell was wrong with him? He was behaving like an alpha dog protecting his trees from somebody else’s piss. “Look, Alex. All I know is Torin saved my life. He showed up when I needed him the most. Why are you so hostile this morning? I thought we’d called a truce.”
Alex straightened behind the counter, a non-committal mask shuttered over his face as though someone had flipped a switch. “I am
not
hostile. I was merely concerned for the future of the clinic. I don’t appreciate our investment endangered. If we lost ye, we dinna have the funds to lure another pediatrician to the Isle.”
“Well,
that
makes me feel so much better.” Emma snatched her white lab coat off the hook and yanked it on. What a nice guy. No wonder the man was still single. There couldn’t be a heart beating inside his chest. He must’ve come equipped with nothing more than a calculator. “I’m sorry I worried you about your investment. But life tends to be dangerous sometimes and we can’t always control what crosses our path.”
His mouth tightened into an accusing sneer as Alex knotted his hands atop the counter. “Aye, Dr. Maxwell. I agree ye couldna help the storm washing away your path but ye have definite choices when it comes to the company ye keep.”
“Look. I don’t know who you think you are but you have no right lecturing me about choosing my friends. We may have called a truce the other day but if you keep up this line of conversation, the cease fire is over.” Emma straightened her collar with an irritated yank then jammed both fists into her pockets. She was in no mood for some territorial male, especially one with a confused idea of ownership.
“Moira, will ye talk some sense into her?” Alex barked out the words as though shouting life-saving orders during triage. “I canna deal with the woman!” Clearing the countertop of the stacks of files, he stomped down the hall to his office and slammed the door.
“I think he needs to be medicated.” Emma stared down the hallway at the dark-blue door separating them from the sullen doctor. “What the hell is his problem? Was he that worried about the possibility of funding another doctor?”
“Are all American women as dense as you?” Repositioning her fleshy support-hose encased legs, Moira grunted as she stooped to gather the scattered files.
“Moira!” Emma couldn’t believe Moira’s scolding tone. The ever-patient always-smiling grandmother never raised her voice to anyone but Alfred. Was everyone in a lousy mood today?
Red-faced and huffing, Moira straightened, hugging the armload of papers to her chest. “Can ye no’ tell that he likes ye? Have ye never seen jealousy before?”
“Jealousy? How can he be jealous? We barely made it to speaking terms before the cease fire ended.”
Jerking her chin down with a decisive nod, Moira fixed Emma with a tight-lipped scowl. “Aye. Jealousy. I told ye from the verra beginning that Dr. Mac would find ye a tempting lass.” Pointing a handful of files first toward the closed office door down the hall and then back to the center of Emma’s chest, Moira’s voice pitched slightly higher as her temper fueled her words. “And even an inexperienced woman such as yourself should know that no man likes for anything to be taken right out from under his nose…whether he’s laid claim to it or not!”
Emma shifted her gaze from Moira’s frustrated face to the dark-blue door at the end of the hall. Doubt weighed heavy in the pit of her stomach, unfurling its claws into a raging beast of uneasiness churning into her chest. She didn’t need or want Dr. Alex Mackenzie’s interest. Life was complicated enough right now just trying to sort out her existence with Torin. She needed to nip this conversation in the bud before it went any further. “I hope you’re mistaken, Moira, because I don’t believe in getting involved with co-workers. Many a medical facility has suffered when staffers have become more interested in chasing each other than doing the job at hand.”
The color faded a bit from Moira’s cheeks as she tapped the edge of the papers on the counter. With a disgruntled shrug, she pursed her lips while stacking the files into a tidy pile. “I’m verra sorry to hear that, Dr. Emma. I think ye’re missing a fine opportunity to get to know a verra special man.”
Poor Moira. Emma heaved a weary sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. The woman suffered from a terminal case of cupiditis. If she wasn’t neck deep in a matchmaking scheme, Moira wasn’t happy. With a glance toward the still closed blue door, Emma blew out another heavy sigh. And apparently, she’d convinced Alex he needed to give chase. What a freaking mess that she really didn’t have the time to deal with right now. “I appreciate the fact that Dr. Mackenzie is a fine man, Moira. And I respect him for his work. But I am adamant about not dating a co-worker. It’s just not a good idea.”
“Fine.” Moira waddled around the counter and plopped down into her overly padded rolling chair. Adjusting her glasses to the end of her nose, she bobbed her head up and down while glaring at the flickering computer screen. “Your first patient will be here anytime. Ye’d best review the file while you’re having your coffee.”
Great.
Now Moira was mad at her too. The day was off to a brilliant start.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“The first time is easier to find the harmony of the stones if ye close your eyes and just feel. Ye must learn to trust yer senses.” Torin took her hand and pressed it against the cold rough surface of the megalith towering beside them.
Emma swept her gaze to the top of the eerie spire then back down to the hard-packed ground from where it sprouted. A shiver prickled across her skin, standing every hair on end. Something just wasn’t right about this. It was just too—out there. But what if all the mystical mumbo jumbo Torin spouted was true? What would she do then?
Torin’s face fairly glowed with hopeful anticipation. Was it too late to turn back? A guilt-filled whisper of
you owe him
poked the most sensitive part of her conscience. How could she refuse this man who not only saved her life but set her soul on fire? “Torin, are you sure about this? Just because I’ve got this necklace, doesn’t mean I’m a…you know—just like you.”
Torin squinted at the sky toward the direction of the sun then placed his hand over hers. “‘Tis almost time for the alignment of the equinox. We should be close enough for ye to tap into the wheel’s full power.”
“What wheel?” Emma shivered again. Her body reacted to Torin’s touch, damning to the wind all the doubts racing through her mind.
Torin smiled down into her eyes. A knowing glimmered in the depths of his gaze as he glanced at his hand atop hers. His smile widened as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “The seasonal wheel. The energy of the shifting year. ’Tis an unstoppable force of the universe.” He fingered the amulet at her throat and gave a slight nod as a faint glow emitted from the center of the stone. “And if ye were not a true guardian, your amulet wouldna live and breathe whenever your skin touched the heartstone.”
Emma’s stomach flip-flopped at the emotions echoing in his deep, throaty voice. Or was it because of his touch? She wished she hadn’t worn such a heavy sweatshirt. The early fall breeze nudging against her back suddenly seemed overly warm. Stretching the ribbed neckline away from her throat, Emma pushed his hand away from her necklace. “It’s awfully warm out here. Could we please just get on with it?” Emma struggled to ignore the scent of Torin’s tempting body just inches away from hers. Male spice accented with a hint of desire. Her mouth watered at the prospect.
Geez! Get a grip, Maxwell.
You’d think she was some lusty co-ed on a manhunt during summer break.
Torin’s laughter rumbled across the hillside. “Aye, little Emma. Just follow my instructions and ye’ll get a glimpse of the wonders I’ve foretold.”
Returning her hand to the shoulder-high spot on the obelisk, Emma sucked in a steadying breath and nodded. It was now or never. Maybe once he discovered she was just
plain old Emma
, he’d realize the mistake he’d made. A snarky voice of self-conscious uncertainty nagged at the back of her mind. Would he still be interested in
plain old Emma
?
Shaking free of the malicious whisperings of potential failure, Emma spread her fingers across the cold, grainy surface of the monument at her side. “Okay. I’m ready. What do you want me to do?”
“Close your eyes,” Torin repeated, returning his hand atop hers.
As soon as she closed her eyes, an iridescent light show of vibrant colors exploded through her mind. Emma gasped, lost her balance and nearly fell as multi-dimensional bursts of fiery reds, searing oranges, and blinding whites hurtled past her into a tunnel of sparkling lights. She couldn’t see anything and yet she saw it all. Every retina-piercing explosion enveloped her in a blast of mind-numbing colors. A spinning sensation threatened to knock her feet out from under her. Taking care to keep her eyes tightly closed, she batted her free hand through the air and grappled the edge of the stone for support. “Torin?”
“Keep your eyes closed. The energies are merely greeting ye. They’ve waited a long time for ye to connect and seek them out.”
The soothing warmth of Torin’s breath against her cheek neutralized the panic pounding in her chest. Torin wouldn’t let anything hurt her. The heat of his hand pressing atop hers transmitted security to her brain. The firm weight of his other hand supported the small of her back. She was safe. No matter what, she needed to keep that in mind. With Torin, she was safe.
Her breathing slowed, as did the hammering of her heart.
Thank goodness.
Now that she didn’t feel as though she was suffocating, she’d be able to pay more attention to her surroundings. The streaming explosions of mind-boggling colors gave way to what appeared to be a velvety black carpet dusted with twinkling white lights. Emma floated into the center of the cocooning blackness pierced with a galaxy of stars. Surrounded by the winking sparks of whiteness, Emma stretched out her hands before her. The points of light showed through her flesh as though her body consisted of nothing more than a pale-pink mist. “Torin?” Her voice echoed through the space and faded off into a tinkling softness like faraway wind chimes rustling in a breeze.
“Your spirit walks. Your soul has freed itself from your body. Dinna fear it. I’m here to watch over ye and keep ye safe.” Torin’s rumbling brogue filtered through the starlit darkness like a warm caress. “Stretch your hands out in front of ye, lass. Concentrate on your fingertips. Ye’ll see they vibrate with the golden glow of a guardian. All will know ye as a mystical being and help guide ye along your way.”
Torin was right. Her fingertips glowed, luminescent and golden against the blue-black void surrounding her. When she waved her hands across the space in front of her, a stream of shimmering particles echoed her movements, trailing her hands with phosphorescent shadows. A sense of buoyancy lifted her, propelled her through the endless space as though she levitated among the stars. She’d never experienced such a breathless freedom; a shiver of excitement rippled through her.
“Come back to me now, Emma. ’Tis time ye returned so I can show ye more of our ways. Ye lack the experience and the control to tarry long among the pathways.” Torin’s voice grew louder, echoed deeper as though inhabiting every particle around her.
“I don’t know how to get back.”
“Think of the stones. The blessed stones of
Tursachan Chalanais
will always serve as your anchor.”
Emma visualized the circle of towering megaliths dotting the barren hillside. She remembered the sharpness of their rectangular outlines, dark and shining as they cut into the glowing horizon of the yellow-white rising moon.