“It’s embarrassing that I stayed long enough to let him.”
“He’ll pay,” Faelan said. “I’ll make him pay.” But he had to find him to kill him, and if Druan had been reassigned, Faelan would die too. “Did anyone see you in the castle?”
“I don’t think so. Where were you when I came home earlier?”
“I went for a run to clear my head.”
“Did it?” She cast a sideways glance at him.
“Up until an hour ago.” He wouldn’t mention the time vault in the cellar or that the castle was invisible to him, until he could sort it out.
“None of this would’ve happened if you’d taken the cell phone with you.”
None of this would’ve happened if she’d taken a minute to think things through instead of leaping to conclusions. The woman was a magnet for danger.
He saw a quick movement in the side mirror. He spun around and looked out the back window.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something’s back there.”
“Behind us?”
“In the air.”
“A bird?”
“Bigger.”
“Can demons fly?”
“Not that I know. They can choose an animal form, but I’ve never seen one as a bird.”
“I saw two huge vultures at the castle. We’d better move faster, just in case.” For ten minutes she drove like a horse running from flies.
“I think we’d be safer back at the castle fighting demons.”
“You’re not used to riding in a car. After Janie’s boyfriend gets you a driver’s license, I’ll give you some lessons. You can practice in the driveway until you get the hang of it.”
A woman giving him lessons, like a bairn learning to walk. A man didn’t need a license to ride a horse. Then again, horses didn’t have that rumbling sound that gave him chill bumps. “You need a GPS,” he said, after she’d taken so many turns he figured they must be lost.
Bree frowned at him. “You’re from 1860. What could you possibly know about GPS?”
“I saw it on a commercial. We’ll have to find somewhere to stay.”
“I guess it’s not safe to go back to the house.”
“Not tonight.”
“There’s a hotel up ahead.”
“And food?” His stomach rumbled. “You must be hungry.” He hadn’t eaten in two whole hours.
“We’ll hit a McDonald’s.”
He started to ask what the MacDonalds were doing in America and what they had to do with food, when she pulled up to a store with that name. She ordered food at a talking sign, then went to a little window and gave a plastic card to a lad with tattoos covering his arms from the wrist up. The next window slid open, and a lass with metal wires on her teeth smiled and handed Bree a bag of food. It was remarkable, but distressing. He didn’t belong here, but he couldn’t go back. Did he belong anywhere?
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t keep living like this. I had to take money from your kitchen drawer to get a taxi.”
“You’ve got a demon to kill and a world to save,” she said quietly. “You’ll feel better after you find your family. It’ll be proof you exist. You can figure out money and all the other stuff later. You could always write a book. You could keep the clan stuff secret and write about the people of that time. Better yet, write a novel about your battles. Nobody would believe it, and they’d probably make a movie of it. You’d be rich.” She looked him over, head to feet. “You could always model. They’d probably pay double if you wore the kilt.”
“Model?”
“Pose.”
“Pose? Doing what?”
“Just stand there, smile, look good holding some product.”
“You mean people in this time will pay a person to just stand and smile? That’s daft.”
“It’s complicated. Do warriors get paid?”
“We live modestly, but our needs are met. The clan has someone who handles those things.”
“I’ll cover your expenses for now, and you can pay me back.” She took a drink of her soda. “You could always work with horses. I don’t imagine they’ve changed.”
“Horses.” He gave her a quick look. “I know horses.” He was good with horses. He picked up his food, took a bite, and almost moaned. “What is this?”
