for it was a necessity in order to get through each and every day. But she hadn’t been able to block his torment at all. His emotions had consumed her as no one’s ever had before, even across centuries. What, exactly, did the fact that she felt him so powerfully across time mean?
Everything was meant to be, and every Rose woman knew it.
Brie shivered as Tabby’s cell phone rang. Brie shut and locked the door, going to her work station on the far side of the loft. She sat down at her PC, which remained in sleep mode. He could not be dead.
Tabby came over. “That was Sam. She’s talked to every contact and snitch she knows. It looks like you’re right. He’s not here.”
Brie whirled her chair to face her. “How could I empathize across time?”
Tabby clasped her shoulder, their gazes locking. “You must really love him, Brie. It’s the only explanation I can think of.”
Her heart lurched. Her crush had been so safe and silly, until now. Loving him was terrifying, because he would never love her back—even if their paths crossed. “It’s just a crush,” Brie whispered, turning back to her PC. She was praying that there was another reason for her amazing empathy.
But now she stared at her computer’s wallpaper, the ruins of a castle on Loch Awe. Nick had asked her if the name Aidan of Awe was familiar. Her heart thundered. It felt so right. She’d put up the wallpaper after meeting Aidan…and there was no such thing as coincidence.
This past year she had been tempted to go through HCU’s immense historical database, looking for a mention of him, but it was against the rules to use the system for personal projects and she hadn’t done so. She hit a button and CDA’s site filled her screen. She began to log on, a process that required three passwords. She had something to go on now. And what did Nick know about Aidan, exactly?
If HCU had anything on him, by now, Nick was on it.
Brie was still amazed that she hadn’t been fired.
“What are you going to do?” Tabby asked. “He’s not here, Brie, and we can’t time-travel.”
Brie bit her lip and punched in a search for Aidan of Awe. As the search began, she shifted restlessly, and then she cried out, getting a hit.
Tabby peered over her shoulder.
The message on her screen was glaring. Aidan of Awe—Level Four—Access Denied.
“There’s a file on him?” Tabby exclaimed.
“I’m only Level Three,” Brie cried in frustration.
“Maybe that’s not our Aidan,” Tabby tried.
Brie stared at the flashing message. “It’s him. I know it. Damn Nick,” she cried.
Tabby started. “Brie, you’re exhausted. You absorbed so much pain, you need to rest. Leave the search to Forrester. He’s certainly on this.”
“I can’t,” Brie said. She was afraid to ask Nick what was in that file—he was so intimidating—but she had to try.
“Can I make you something to eat?” Tabby asked.
Brie didn’t care, even though Tabby was a great cook. As Tabby went into her kitchen, separated from the loft only by the kitchen counter, she went to her favorite online research library. She had part of his name to go on now. As she went to her medieval-Scotland virtual bookshelf, she dialed Nick. It went right to voicemail.
Brie pulled the first of two hundred and thirteen volumes, and as she typed in the words Aidan of Awe in the search box, she said, “Nick, it’s Brie. Please call me at home. Thanks.”
Her search yielded zero results, and she pulled the next volume and repeated the search. On her fourth search, a sudden nausea began, and Brie cried out. The floor tilted wildly, accompanied by a terrible feeling of dread.
And the vision began.
She gripped the arms of the desk chair tightly, no longer aware of her surroundings, entirely focused on what she was meant to see. Aidan was lying on his back. He was bare-legged, wearing high boots and clad in a leine and black cloak, the latter pinned to one shoulder and belted. His hands were folded atop the belt, which held two huge swords. The image sharpened. He was asleep, his eyes closed, his face relaxed, at peace. The necklace he wore became apparent, as if her mind’s eye had zoomed in on it. A fang, capped with gold, lay against the hollow of his collarbone.
He turned into stone, becoming an effigy atop a tomb.
She sprang to her feet, crying out.
Tabby was hovering over her. “What did you see?”
Brie hardly heard her. She could not have seen what she had! Her premonitions were never wrong. She looked at Tabby, aghast. “I saw him in stone effigy, atop a medieval tomb.”
Tabby took her hand. “Brie, he’s from the fifteenth century,” she said carefully.
“So what? Allie is still alive, isn’t she? And he was alive the other day!” she cried. And her grandmother’s ring began pinching her.
Brie had been wearing Sarah’s garnet ring since she was thirteen. Sarah had always claimed it would protect her and enhance her gifts. She twisted it nervously, aware of desperation surging. Tabby said, “Honey, he is alive, somewhere, farther in the past. But we can’t time-travel like they do.”
Brie stared at her. She wanted him to be alive right then and there. “My visions are a tool. They’re meant to help others. Why did I have that vision?” she cried.
“I don’t know. Brie, would you please rest? And eat?” Tabby returned to the kitchen, then set a sizzling plate before her. Brie had been hungry earlier; now, she had no appetite.
“I’m going to go,” Tabby said. “I haven’t been home in three days. The neighbor’s been taking care of the cats and the plants. And I really need a shower.”
Brie stood to hug her. Tabby looked as if she was on her way to take tea at Buckingham Palace. “I’m fine. Thank you for everything.”
When Tabby was gone, Brie—almost desperate—went on to her next search, and the words Aidan of Awe produced a result. She froze in sheer disbelief. Then, her heart leaping painfully in her chest, she hit the enter key. She quickly skimmed down the first page and began to read.
In December 1436, Aidan, the Wolf of Awe, a Highlander with no clan, sacked the stronghold of the Earl of Moray at Elgin, leaving no one alive.
She breathed hard and read the rest of the page.
However, Moray escaped the Wolf’s wrath intact, to take up his position at court as Defender of the Realm for King James, the same position he had enjoyed ten years earlier. But when James was murdered at Perth the following February, Moray, who was known to be at court, vanished, never to be heard from again. Quite possibly, Moray was slain with his king. The Wolf of Awe proceeded to spend the next nineteen years ruthlessly destroying the families and holdings of Moray’s three powerful sons, the earls of Feith, Balkirk and Dunveld. Retribution came from Argyll, and in 1458 Castle Awe was burned to the ground. Although the Wolf spent twenty years rebuilding his stronghold, he for-feited his other holdings, his title and earldom (Lismore) to King James II. He remained universally distrusted and feared until his demise. In 1502, after his mercenary role in the MacDonald uprising, he was accused of treason by the Royal Lieutenant of the North, the powerful Frasier chief. Badly wounded from an escape attempt, he was publicly hanged at Urquhart.
Brie couldn’t see the page, for her vision suddenly blurred. The terrible Wolf of Awe could not be her Aidan. Her Aidan was a Master of Time, sworn to protect Innocence through the ages, a mighty hero defending mankind from evil, upholding God. And Aidan could not hang. He would simply vanish into the future or the past.
Except he had been badly hurt.
She started to cry, but