Chapter 4

 

 

Malcolm made his way to the back of the Guild House where he let himself into a small office. He closed the sliding door as silently as he could and turned around to find Boyd standing in front of the fireplace.

Malcolm barged up to him. “Are ye out of yer mind bringing her here? Did ye no’ see the state of her? Great Christ, what in the world is she that she prances around in that getup with her face painted like a whore on Sunday? Do ye ken what she’ll bring down on our heads?”

Boyd glanced over his shoulder at his cousin. “Never ye mind about that. We have a much bigger matter on our hands. Someone sent her back here on the time portal spell. I’m convinced of it. She says she was walking down a path in a park, in 2018, in some place called San Francisco in America. She walked between two trees and the next instant, she appeared here, on the main street of Stromness, within spitting distance of the Guild House.”

Malcolm stiffened. “What are ye saying, man?”

“I’m saying someone sent her back here on purpose. She didnae just happen to pass through the time portal. Someone set a net for her, and here she is.”

“But why?” Malcolm whispered. “Who could have done such a thing, and why would they send us…that?” He made a sour face as he said “that.”

Boyd bit back a grin. “I imagine ye’ll find she’s a pretty little lass once she gets all that muck scraped off her face and a decent dress on her bones. She’s a smart one, and sweet underneath it all.”

Malcolm’s jaw dropped. “Dinnae tell me ye’re fancying that devil spawn.”

Boyd turned all the way around and laid both hands on Malcolm’s shoulders. “Ye must learn to look beneath the surface, me lad.”

Malcolm snorted. “That’s a fine bit of a joke. I’m near yer rank, and when yer father returns from Aberdeen, ye’ll no’ be Guild Master any longer. We’ll be equals.”

Boyd turned his back on Malcolm again. “Dinnae let yer position run to yer head, laddie. Ye’ve had some success rousting the Lewises out of Scotland, but that doesnae make ye Guild Master.”

“I dinnae wish to be Guild Master.” Malcolm strode over to the bookshelf, took down a book, and pretended to read it. He had to play this moment casually so as not to alarm anybody. He’d never felt the precarious nature of his position more than right now. “I intend to tell yer father when he returns, so I might as well tell ye now. I plan to quit Scotland and go to America. I hear the Guild needs Heads in the Colonies.”

Boyd whipped around. “Ye’re leaving? Why?”

Malcolm grimaced. “This old country…well, it’s so old. I’ve been here too long, and I want something new.”

“What do ye want to go to America for?” Boyd asked. “The Lewises’ll no’ be over there in force yet. They’re all still here.”

“If they’re no’ in America now, they will be soon enough,” Malcolm replied. “If they’re no’ in force, that’ll make them all the more difficult to find. The sooner the Guild gets Chapter Heads in place over there, the better our position for hunting them down before they get established.”

Boyd wandered over to the window and gazed out at the streets. “It’s timely ye bringing this up now, brother.”

“How do ye reckon?” Malcolm eyed him sidelong, not liking where this was heading.

“Ye’re responsible for the interception teams in this country,” Boyd told him. “Ye ken as much as any of us about the Lewises’ movements—probably more. Ye can prep yer teams for a new mission.”

“What mission is that?”

Boyd rounded on him with a level stare. “I want ye to prepare two teams of three each. They’ll transport forward in time on the spell to 2018. They’ll track down Vic Doyle’s friends and family and find out who sent her here.”

Malcolm froze. “Ye cannae be serious. Ye want to send two teams three hundred years into the future for what?”

“Someone sent her here. They sent her straight to our front doorstep, and ye ken as well as I do no one in the Guild would have done that. No one in the Guild would have used that spell without authorization from the Guild Master.”

“How do ye ken they didnae have it?” Malcolm asked. “How do ye ken the Guild Master in 2018 didnae have some good reason to send her here?”

Boyd shook his head. “I dinnae believe it. If the Guild Master in 2018 had any good reason to send someone back here to us, he would have sent someone who kenned the situation. He wouldnae have sent someone picked at random off the street who kenned naught about our Guild and our mission.”

“Are ye sure she’s no’ that? How can ye be sure she’s no’ hiding something?”

Boyd laughed. “For a man who just called her devil spawn, ye put a large stock in her intelligence. Think on it, lad. If the Guild Master three hundred years from now wanted to send someone here to hide something, he would have dressed her in contemporary clothing. He would have given her a cover story to match so no one kenned who or what she was. She would have a perfectly constructed disguise so she wouldnae attract any undue attention, but look at her. She couldnae attract more attention if she wore a sign. She’s ignorant. She kens naught about us or the Lewises or anything else. She walked into a net, and here she is.”

“Who could have cast a net like that?” Malcolm asked. “Is it possible she fell into a net intended for someone else?”

“It doesnae matter if the net was intended for her or someone else. The question remains who cast it. It must have been someone outside the Guild. It seems ye’ve no’ done yer job as Chapter Head in America, lad. The Lewis scourge is there as well as everywhere else in a paltry three hundred years.”

Malcolm turned away with a shake of his head. “I dinnae believe this. It cannae be the Lewises sent her back. It’s much more likely someone within the Guild saw fit to do it. This is all a big fuss over naught.”

“That’s why ye’re no’ Guild Master, brother,” Boyd replied. “Prep yer teams and send me word when they’re ready to travel.”

“And who’ll cast the spell to send them forward?” Malcolm returned.

Boyd’s eyes sparkled. “Ye will.”

Malcolm’s blood ran cold. This discussion had turned about as far south as he could imagine. He hated to ask his next question but couldn’t live with not knowing. “Are ye sending me forward as well?”

“No, lad.” Boyd dropped into the chair behind his desk. “Ye’ll no’ go forward. I need ye here, but ye’ll prep the teams and give them their orders. Ye’ll give them all the information they need to find Vic Doyle and search her associates until they discover who sent her back.”

Malcolm did his best not to collapse in relief. Boyd couldn’t know the disaster Malcolm would be courting if he traveled forward to 2018. He might encounter himself, which would be catastrophic.

“How can I give them the information when I dinnae have it meself?” he asked. “I dinnae ken aught about the lass.” All at once, his eyes popped open and he waved his hand in front of him. “No, no, no, no. Ye cannae think I’ll do that. Dinnae ask me to. I’ll no’ stoop to that level, no’ even for me own Guild.”

Boyd cocked his head. “What do ye mean, lad? Ye’ll no’ do what?”

Malcolm threw up both hands and spun away toward the door. “I’ll no’ do it, so dinnae ask me to. Ye want me to charm her to get the information out of her. Well, I’ll do no such thing. Ye may banish me to Siberia if ye wish before I’ll put on an act of making love to that.”

Boyd leaned back in his chair and laughed to the skies. “Why, Malcolm Gunn, as I live and breathe! Ye dinnae wish to charm a lady out of her secrets—ye! Dinnae let that news abroad, or it’ll ruin yer reputation as a rake and an enchanter of womenfolk.”

Malcolm stopped with his hand on the door latch and cast a fierce glare over his shoulder at his friend. “Are ye playing me, lad?”

Boyd wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “How could I play ye? Ye’ve no’ looked sideways at a woman in all the years I’ve kenned ye. Dinnae bother yer head about it, for I’ll no’ ask ye to charm this lady out of her secrets, much as I ken ye’d do the better job of it. No woman alive can resist ye when ye set yer mind to winning her heart. I plan to do the job meself. I’m dining with her in a few hours. I’ll find out all I can, and ye can pass the information to yer teams.”

“How do ye plan to get the information out of her?” Malcolm asked.

Boyd’s eyes danced with laughter. “Dinnae bother yerself about me business. I’ll do naught to sully the lassie’s reputation. I’m no’ such a beast as that. I’m sure she’ll tell me anything I care to ken as long as she thinks it will help her get back home.”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes on the man. “Ye’d play on her hopes, only to dash them.”

“No, lad,” Boyd murmured. “I have every intention of sending her home to her own time and her own people, just as soon as I find out who sent her here and why.”