On Wings of Time Read online

Page 2


  Tavish! Amileigh didn’t care who they were or what they were saying. She could sort all that out later. But, if this guy was a Tavish, he would surely know where Kiernan was.

  The man's laughter and response trailed off when she stepped from the narrow slit in the wall, his mouth froze on his unspoken word.

  Amileigh frowned. She didn’t recognize him, and his odd attire was concerning. She looked at the female wearing tight fitting pants and a shirt that looked much like it should have been an undergarment. But when her gaze turned back to the man, she found herself studying him from top to bottom, starting with the thick, dark hair that looked like he’d rolled out of bed and ran his fingers through it and nothing more. It was very much like Kiernan’s, though not quite as kempt. His eyes were the same odd piercing blue. There was no way the two men could not be related.

  When her eyes darted to the fullness of his still parted lips, she forgot what she needed to know. His biceps rippling beneath his pale, peachy-pink long-sleeved shirt didn’t help either. It hung open revealing hard planes and toned muscles… and some sort of a design that appeared etched into his skin. Ink?

  Her mouth watered and her tongue darted out to share that moisture with her dry lips. How many women had traced that design with their tongues? The thought had Amileigh’s face turning crimson red and she grimaced at the smirk she was sure she saw when she glanced briefly into his eyes before looking downward and wishing she hadn’t.

  Below the waist, he was clothed in a rather form-fitting peculiar blue dyed material. What had he said to the woman? Something about her wetting her jeans. Since they were both wearing the same material, they must be the jeans he referred to. Wearing them wet sounded quite uncomfortable… every bit as uncomfortable as she was growing, though that discomfort was overshadowed by the humming in her head that was beginning to come in great waves very nearly blotting out all the sounds of the outdoors.

  “Who are you?” Amileigh’s words were a breathy whoosh. “And what are you doing in my house?”

  “What the hell?” The woman’s voice swirled about Ami’s swaying form. “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, Cinderella, but we’re not the ones trespassing. These ruins and the beautiful castle that stood here before them have been in my family since… practically forever. At least since the thirteen to fourteen hundreds. So, I’m guessing it’s us who should ask who the hell are you?”

  Amileigh slowly shook her head, trying hard to keep her eyes focused on the girl the man had called Mairi. “Your family? That can’t be. This is… Somerled, owned by my family, the McCollum’s. The lands were bestowed upon my great, great grandfather by the king himself. I am… I am Amileigh McCollum. Gairlich McCollum’s only daughter.” She managed a slow-eyed change of view from the woman to the man. “Please.” The word was rushed, the rest barely audible. “Kiernan Tavish. Do… do you… know him?” One hand to her temple, Amileigh used the other against the wall to steady herself as the sound inside her mind grew continually louder.

  “Kiernan?” The man looked bewildered. “Of course, I know him. He’s my great grandfather.”

  Amileigh stared at him, the world around them began to swim. “Merciful heavens. That can’t be. He’s but a few years older than...” She looked up as a dark shadow blotted out the sunlight above. “…me,” she finished before falling back against the stone wall and sliding to the ground, her head missing a pile of rubble only by the quick movements of Lukas Tavish who cushioned the blow with a dive and outstretched hands.

  Chapter 2

  Familiar sounds and smells greeted Amileigh as she clamored from yet another restless sleep. She looked around her, startled to find herself in her own bed, everything as it should be. Everything except her body. She turned her head toward the window, and winced at the pain that grabbed her shoulders and ran clear to the tips of her toes. Goodness, she hadn't felt this bad since she was a child and had fallen into a hole that led down into the caves beneath Somerled. It was the first time she’d learned they were there. Fortunately, the wall had sloped in instead of opening up to drop her all the way to the cavern floor and her brothers and Kiernan had been there to rescue her.

  Kiernan!

  She sat up too quickly, uncertain whether to grab her spinning head or collapse against her body’s protest. She did neither, instead whipping back the white coverlet and swinging her legs over the side of the tall bed. Sliding off the mattress and landing on shaky legs, Amileigh ignored the throbbing between her temples. The dull hum was another matter. She felt almost as if it was pulling her or directing her steps. But to where?

  It took her a while, but she made her way to the door where she rested her head against the dark plank. Her dry tongue tried to satisfy even drier lips to no avail and she looked back to the cup that sat on the table beside her bed. As weak as she felt she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it back to the door if she went for the cup, but without something to quench the fire in her throat she’d be unable to call for anyone once she gained access to the hallway.

  Why had she not thought of the water before she left her bed? Why did she feel so weak? Was she ill? That was the only explanation why her body ached and strange visions clouded her mind. Dragons! No one believed in them, except maybe small children and the daft… and her? Ami couldn’t shake how real it had seemed when she’d dreamed about turning to see the dragons in the sky behind her. The sound of their wings, their large bodies soaring through the currents of air… she’d heard it above the pounding of her horse’s hooves. And over that incessant hum. Although it wasn't as loud as it was when she’d collapsed—if that had actually happened—the hum refused to go away.

  Ami reached up to touch her forehead, willing her mind to quiet, but when her toe caught on the hem of her gown, she went down. She had moved close enough to the bed to catch the skirting around her nightstand. As she fell, she pulled the full glass of water, the pitcher, and all her baubles off as she went. She wasn’t sure if she’d screamed, but the commotion brought the sound of running feet and a flurry of arms attempting to untangle her from the mess. She was grateful for the familiarity when one set of arms in particular won out and her brother lifted her, cradling her to him for a split second before plopping her unceremoniously onto the bed. Ami fought to roll to the other side.

  “Ami! What are you doing? Be still before you hurt yourself more. You're acting like a numbskull.” Her twin’s voice was demanding, though even Auley’s deep scowl didn’t cover his concern.

  Amileigh ignored it and glared back at him from the opposite side of the bed. “Me a numbskull? When you'd have me ruin the coverlet with this wet gown? Mother would have both of our heads.”

  Her brother rolled his eyes that were a darker purple than her own with a strong hint of blue. Straightening, he backed away from the opposite side of the bed, still staring at her. One would not have expected someone with such fair hair and complexion to have the ability to look so stern, but the McCollum men had mastered it. Had it been anyone but Ami that he fixed with his glare, the person might well have been quaking. Instead, she scoffed back, measuring whether it was worth moving from the bedside so she could turn her back in a show of open defiance.

  Auley offered a huffed chuckle, turning to the two other women in the room and blowing out a loud breath before speaking. “It appears her run in with the stranger has caused no change in her usual dour behavior.”

  Ami’s sharp intake of air had him wheeling back to stare at her again.

  “Stranger?” she whispered, her eyes going wide. “You mean… ‘twas not a dream?”

  One of the other women—her lady’s maid, shook her head. “No, milady. We feared greatly for you, what with no one ever having seen the likes of him before, and him dressed and behaving so oddly. We thought…”

  “Where is he now, the stranger?” Amileigh cut her off.

  “Deep in the belly of the castle, where he belongs. He’s obviously a madman.” Her brother’s feature
s hardened even more, making him look every bit as stern as her father.

  Feeling her knees go weak, Amileigh grabbed for the wooden post at the foot of her bed. She leaned against it, the coolness welcomed against her heated face. She clenched her teeth, fighting to breathe. She sensed more than felt Auley move to her side and wasn't surprised that not only was he there, but he'd dismissed the other women from the room. They left with a grumble and inside, Amileigh smiled. Her mother had always said her twins could read one another, most likely from having shared a womb together.

  Without him speaking, Ami knew her brother’s question. “Brother, please. Go and fetch Kiernan. What I have to say needs to be said to him and no other.”

  Auley scoffed. “Why is everyone asking for Kiernan? First the stranger, then father. Now you. What does he have to do with all of this?”

  Ami shook her head, her loose blonde curls whispering against her night dress. “Something’s happening, Aul, and I don’t know what. But…” She contemplated sharing everything with him—the pit, the dragons, Somerled in ruins, the ceaseless hum… She pressed against her head with her palms on either side and sat back against her bed. “Please, Aul. Just… get him.”

  The weight of the mattress dipped when he sat down beside her and Amileigh leaned against her brother. He slipped an arm around her, patting her shoulder much as he had to comfort her when they were children. “He’s already on his way, Ami. Should be but a few more moments. I’ll have him sent to you as soon as he’s finished speaking to father.”

  “No!” She pulled away and stood to face him, her eyes wide. “I must speak to him first. You have to find him and make sure he comes to speak to me before any other.”

  Auley stood slowly, his palms facing forward in front of him, much as one might approach a crazed or troubled person. “It’s fine,” he practically cooed. “I’ll find him. You can trust me.”

  Having heard him use that same tone on a skittish horse or a spooked dog, Ami bristled. Brows drawn tight, nose crinkled, and mouth turned downward, she glared at him. “Stop it, Auley. Just do as I ask.” She stomped her bare foot and crossed her arms, turning toward the window just in time to see the dark shadow sweep past it. Cold fingers raced up her spine and she spun back to try to catch Auley’s reaction. He was still looking at her as if he had no idea where his sister had gone. True, her behavior had been rather erratic in the time since she’d awakened. Whose wouldn’t be when confronted with the very real possibility of racing through time, seeing the future, and being chased by dragons? But if that shadow was any indication, that was exactly what had happened and if Kiernan was alone… “How many men rode out to escort Kiernan?” Ami asked her brother.

  “What?” Auley shook his head. “I don’t know. One maybe… the messenger. Or perhaps two in case they had to split off. I really don’t have any idea. Why?”

  “Because,” Ami spoke in a quiet voice, turning back toward her window. “I fear his life may be in danger.”

  “Yet he is here.” Kiernan’s voice filled her room and both occupants turned to see him walking through the door, his smile wide, teeth white against his sun-kissed complexion.

  “Kiernan!” Ami practically squealed. Finding strength to overcome her weakness, she ran around the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing when she felt his arms encircle her. In her relief over his safety, she hadn’t stopped to think of how unseemly it was for a lady dressed only in her night dress to be in such close proximity to a man not her husband. At least she hadn’t until a cleared throat pulled her attention to the doorway. She looked up into the eyes of her father, and stepped away from Kiernan almost as quickly as he released her. They both froze under the icy glare of the Lord of Somerled.

  A man of no small stature, Gairlich McCollum's presence overwhelmed the open door. He made a slow perusal of the room's occupants, disapproval pulling at his brows and causing the muscle of his cheek to twitch.

  “Abigail!” he bellowed, his gaze raking down Ami's body dressed in the thin material of her sleeping gown made even thinner by the water she'd spilled on herself.

  Ami wrapped her arms across her body, feeling suddenly exposed, and watched as her young lady's maid materialized behind her father.

  “Ye... yes, milord?”

  Gairlich stepped back, grunting when the girl dropped into a deep curtsy fit for the King himself. No matter how many times he'd told his staff a simple bob would do, they continued with full salute. Ami figured it was in part to his ranking with the King, though most assuredly his thunderous demeanor made up the rest. Had the moment been less serious, Ami would have laughed at Abigail's visible wince when the girl rose on her father's grumbled command.

  “Fetch my daughter a wrap at once. Something that will aptly cover her.”

  Her father's words had everyone looking in Ami's direction and her cheeks flaming. She envisioned herself looking much like one of the statues in the King's forbidden garden that she and her brothers had sneaked into when she was barely fifteen. The garden was rightfully named Xardín do Amor—the Garden of Love, designed to create the mood. As she aged, Ami realized that mood was seduction. The fragrant flowers, secluded shrubbery alcoves, pergolas with their soft as a bed grass flooring, and the statues... half-naked women, couples engaged in various states of entanglement. Even at her young age, Ami had felt the budding need building inside her as she'd walked through the space.

  At first, she'd thought the flittering in her middle was caused by the fear of getting caught in a place she wasn't supposed to be. But that fear was quickly replaced by a heated headiness, a feeling of being disconnected or floating. She'd begun wandering openly then, studying the statues, each statue stealing her breath even more than the one before. One statue in particular, had never left her mind. The man, his hard planes chiseled into the white stone, stared adoringly down at the woman in his arms. The woman also looked down, watching his fingers forever caressing the side of her breast, exposed by her partially removed gown.

  Ami had thought of that statue over the years, the likeness of the man replaced by whomever she fancied at the time, the woman always her. Even now the image caused her breasts to peak and tendrils of desire to lap at her middle. She looked down, pressing her arm more firmly over her chest and held her legs tighter together. It didn't help that the last man she'd replaced the cold stone with was now standing beside her, his body heat radiating into her arm so close to his. Ami welcomed the thick wrap her maid draped over her shoulders. She pushed her arms through the side openings and made a show of cinching the ends of the ribbons that Abigail pushed through to her on either side to give her downturned face more time to cool off.

  “Thank you, Abigail. You may leave us now.” The maid scurried toward her father even before his words were done. Dropping a quick curtsy, she vanished. Ami frowned. The girl obviously feared for her position. She should never have left Amileigh alone in her chambers with a man. Never mind that her brother was there and it was Kiernan. Men were not allowed in a Lady's bedroom. Ami wished she could reassure the girl, but more pressing matters prevailed. There was that stranger in the dungeon that held the key to whatever was going on.

  “Father! I must speak to Kiernan.” Wide lilac eyes implored the man in the doorway.

  His brows still drawn, Gairlich stepped in and began to close the door.

  “No, Father.” Her words stopped his motion. “In private. Alone.”

  Her father paused for only a moment before he slammed the door the rest of the way into its frame and turned to face his daughter. “What in God's good name is going on here?” His icy glare blasted her and then Kiernan, flicking briefly to Auley who still stood on the far side of the bed, before landing back on his daughter. “First you are attacked by some madman going on about being from a different time, then your mother reports you crying out in your sleep about dragons and being trapped. And now...” His lips thinned and nostrils flared as he again looked at them one by one. He didn't have to fin
ish for them to understand.

  Amileigh swallowed the lump in her throat and commanded her heavy legs to take her across the room. She stopped directly in front of her father. “Please, Father,” she said softly, placing her palm against his chest. “You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't truly important. I know the implications and how all of this must look.”

  She stared up at him, watching him war against reason and propriety, hopeful his love and concern for her would win out. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded.

  “You have three minutes. And I shall be standing right outside the door.” He glared at Kiernan. “You are to stand apart from my daughter, and if you ever disobey my orders again, you may consider yourself unwelcome in my house. Is that clear?”

  Kiernan took a step back though quickly masked his shock. He nodded. Only his clenched fists showed he remained wounded by the words from the man Ami knew he held in as much esteem as if he'd been his own father.

  Amileigh held her tongue until just before the door closed after her brother skirted past and rushed out. “Father.” She waited until her father widened the opening of the doorway and stared back. Words weren't needed for her to know he expected her to continue. “Tis not Kiernan's fault. I demanded his audience...”

  “Ami, no...”

  Kiernan's protest was overridden by her father's. “Men should not play host to a woman's folly.” He shook his head. “Even if your claim was true, Lord Tavish should have known better than to disregard my orders.”

  Amileigh snorted. “Would that I might live to see a time when such chauvinistic ways do not prevail.”

  The lord of Somerled narrowed his eyes at his only daughter. “Until that time, Amileigh, you will do well to watch your tongue.” Even the air stilled as the two stared at one another. “If you wish to have the privilege of speaking to Kiernan as you desired, I suggest you stop with these foolish notions of yours.” He ignored her eye roll and looked at Kiernan. “Three minutes.”