“He’s vain enough to want me to witness him release the virus,” Faelan said. “His final triumph.”
“I’d like to think he doesn’t know about time vaults or how long before they’ll open,” Duncan said. “But it’s possible his virus has been ready for years, and he’s been waiting for you, which would make him pretty pissed off by now.”
Faelan glanced at Bree, his eyes dark with worry.
Jamie folded his arms over his chest. “Wish I could be there for this battle, but I’ll be in Virginia.”
“No problem,” Duncan said. “We have several warriors, and Cody’s offered to stay and fight.”
“I hope someone has an extra pair of jeans. I’m a little short on luggage,” the dangerous-looking warrior said. Most of them wore T-shirts and jeans when they weren’t wearing a kilt.
After Bree and Faelan had told the story again for Declan, Anna, and Cody, Bree escaped to the kitchen to help Coira, unable to bear Faelan ignoring her any longer.
The warriors spent the rest of the day locked in the library, strategizing battle plans. They didn’t come out until Coira announced dinner. Most of them left to get ready for the trip they’d make in a couple of days. Those remaining moved to the large dining room, complaining loudly of empty stomachs.
“You should’ve stopped to eat,” Coira scolded. “You’ve been doing this long enough to know you can’t save the world on an empty belly.”
Bree had helped Coira prepare the huge pots of mutton stew, with toffee pudding for dessert, but all she could manage was a few bites. Faelan seemed relieved to take a seat at the other end of the table, far away from her, nestled between Sorcha and Anna.
“So you’re from New York?” a deep voice asked at her elbow.
Bree turned to Cody, who’d settled next to her, his polite smile not covering the pain in his intense, hazel eyes.
“Near Albany,” she said, troubled, because she knew he had more pain to come.
“I live in Virginia, but I have a… friend who used to live not far from there.” His voice held no emotion, as if he’d trained himself to feel none.
She wanted to ask if his friend had blond hair and green eyes, but that would open a can of worms she knew nothing about. “You’re part of this clan too?”
“Yes. My family’s been in America most of my life. We had a mission there.”
What kind of mission lasted a lifetime?
Just then, Sorcha leaned in and whispered something to Faelan. He smiled and turned to include Anna. How could a mere woman compete against modern-day Xenas? Bree had truly believed Faelan was different, but she’d done it again. The curse of the frogs.
“Everything okay?” Cody followed her gaze.
“Just overwhelmed.”
“I can see that you would be.” Cody took a bite of stew, chewed it slowly, and swallowed. “You’ve probably saved the world, you know. Keep that in mind if things get too bad,” he said, glancing at Faelan again. “I’ve found distractions don’t get rid of the problem, but if you think on your troubles too much, they’ll eat you alive.”
Bree saw Ronan watching her, his expression one of sympathy and concern. Was she a blasted open book? She stood to excuse herself, when a commotion sounded in the hallway.
A man burst through the door. Blood ran from his face, soaking his clothes. He swayed on his feet and looked around the table, staring at each one of them. He stopped at Sorcha. “Traitor.” When he saw Faelan, his eyes widened, the whites garish against his blood-covered face. “You!” he gasped, and then collapsed.
Chapter 25
The silence was deafening, swallowed by mayhem as chairs flew backward and everyone ran toward the fallen man. He lay on his side, with deep gashes running across his face and chest. It was impossible to tell his age because of the wounds.
“Angus… Oh, Angus,” Coira wailed as everyone crowded closer, blocking Bree’s view. “Get him to the infirmary. Where’s Niall? Never mind, Duncan, Faelan carry him. Gently. Sean, call Doctor Gillum.” The injured man was unusually tall, but the warriors lifted him as if he weighed nothing. At Coira’s direction, everyone went into a kind of ordered pandemonium.
Bree didn’t know how to help, so she started cleaning up the trail of blood. When she finished, she followed Coira’s voice to a large infirmary. Coira and Anna hovered over Angus while the others watched in silence. He lay still as death.
Faelan moved next to Bree, watching as blood was cleaned from the warrior’s face. “Coira’s a nurse,” he said, slipping his warm hand into Bree’s. Her fingers closed around his, grateful for the comfort. Immediately Faelan looked down at their linked hands in surprise. “Pardon me.” He pulled free, moving away to where Sorcha motioned by the door. She whispered something in Faelan’s ear, and they slipped from the room.
Bree’s desire to scream fled as her attention came back to the wounded man. The floor slid under her feet, and she grabbed for the nearest solid object. With the blood cleaned from his face, she recognized Angus—Mr. Smith from the bed and breakfast. No wonder she’d sensed danger surrounding him. He was a warrior trying to save the world. She’d sensed he was in trouble, washed her hands of it, and walked away. She pried her fingers from the back of Cody’s shirt, but he hadn’t noticed. His face was drawn with guilt. She wanted to tell him about her vision, but he turned and left.
Angus moaned, and his eyes fluttered open. He stared at Bree, lips moving as he struggled to speak. His bloodied hands clenched the table as he tried to rise. Two warriors stepped forward to help Coira settle him, blocking Bree’s view. Anna leaned closer, putting her ear close to his mouth. When Bree could see him again, Angus’s eyes were closed, and he lay unmoving. Had he recognized her? Why did he look so alarmed?
The worried crowd dispersed as Dr. Gillum arrived. Bree headed for her bedroom wondering if she could have saved Angus and still seething with jealousy, despite the fact that Faelan had chosen her bed last night and not Sorcha’s.
