Timeless Vision (16 page)

Wayne shook his head, never taking his eyes off Nick. “I am only here to stop the witch.”

The men were too still, the voices deadly calm. “Everyone relax.” Tara suddenly wanted something stronger than coffee, despite the early hour. “Nick knows you weren’t involved.” She eyed her cousin. “Don’t you?”

“I had to ask.”

“Asked and answered,” she said brightly. “Can we move on?”

“Sure.” Nick reached behind his back and her breath caught, but it wasn’t a gun or taser, or even handcuffs. He held up a large, yellowed envelope. “I brought maps of leylines, city development, that kind of thing.” Nick poured himself a cup of coffee and added a hefty spoonful of sugar.

“Did you bring anything to show us what is under the city?” Wayne refilled his coffee cup once Nick had moved well out of the way. “Tara dreamed that the witch has an underground chamber.”

“Yes, actually.” Nick arched that condescending eyebrow at her. “You didn’t mention your dream to me.”

“I was trying to forget it,” she said in her defense. “Wayne is taking it too seriously anyway.” They were both stuck on differing segments of her dream for wildly different reasons.

Nick put a hand on the envelope, preventing Wayne from taking a look. “Hang on a minute. We may need to take this upstairs.” He faced Tara again. “You had
the
dream?”

She nodded reluctantly. “With more detail this time around.” Now that she understood what Nick did when he wasn’t being a cop, it came as no surprise that he’d remember the vivid dreams and nightmares she’d wrestled with in childhood.

“Tara had nightmares about being trapped underground,” he said to Wayne. “They started right after she saw the dagger for the first time. My aunt and uncle logged the details with my dad just in case something happened.”

Tara pursed her lips and stared into the dark pit of her coffee. She didn’t appreciate him blurting out all of her crazy kid stuff in front of Wayne. Why not break out the baby pictures or junior high yearbook? The absurdity of the reactions ping-ponging through her mind added to her mounting exasperation. “Something happened all right. A group delusion.” She was caught between the sexy madman from the past and the crazy branch of the family tree. Too bad for her she knew they were both perfectly sane.

“Any new details?” Nick asked eagerly.

“No,” Wayne answered before she could. “Tara and I have been talking.” He cleared his throat. “I believe her idea to work both sides of the timeline to find the dagger and the witch is essential to our success.”

“The first time around Wayne confronted Morgana at the winter solstice.”

“It might have been the critical mistake,” Wayne added.

She wondered when he would forgive himself. Personally, she was glad for whatever forces gave her a chance to meet him. To kiss him.

“The solstice is only three days away.” Nick set his coffee mug on the counter. “Let’s take this upstairs,” he ordered, leading the way. He walked into one of the bedrooms and she immediately sensed something was off. The room was smaller than it should’ve been. Nick pressed a corner of the bookcase near the closet and with an audible click, the bookcase swung out, revealing a hidden passage.

“Seriously?” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not going in there.”

“We can’t talk about this out here,” Nick said.

“The house is a safe zone. Your words,” she reminded him. Sterling leaned into her again. How did the dog always know just when she needed a boost of courage?

“I’m not taking any chances,” Nick explained. “If we’re found and come under attack, you need to know every available option. Come on.”

Even without the urging from the greyhound, her curiosity would’ve won out. Knowing her, Nick moved with certainty that her fascination with the myths and legends that had hovered in her dreams all her life would propel her forward. It only supported his cause that a legend from those very myths was walking up the hidden staircase behind her.

Chapter Ten

Wayne watched a soft glow illuminate the hidden space and when he stepped inside, he was relieved to see stairs leading both up and down. More relieved that Nick was leading them up. When they were all inside, Nick paused and did something that brought the bookcase closed behind them.

“Impressive,” Wayne admitted. He’d seen his fair share of secret passageways, but this was cleaner and warmer than most. “How did you find this place?”

“We didn’t find it, we built it to our particular needs,” Nick replied. “Don’t worry, it was a family job and the details were need-to-know.”

“Guess all those cousins weren’t so superfluous after all,” Tara quipped.

“I am thankful,” Wayne admitted. “Your ancestors honor me with their comprehensive efforts.”

He rubbed at his breastbone, still warm and sensitive from when he’d embraced her in the kitchen. He tried to tell himself the effect was solely about their conversation at the time, a signal of sorts from the fire nymph’s touch. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice laughed at his determined ignorance.

The woman moved him, shifted something deep within him. He couldn’t keep kissing her, tempting as it was, without offering her some assurance of his good intentions. He couldn’t give those assurances without knowing if he would stay in this time when his task was done.

Everything hinged on two critical details. First, that they would triumph over Morgana’s plot and second, that Tara wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He was grateful when Nick showed them into a room with a peaked roof and plenty of light from the windows and the skylight. The view, the nearness to his element had him feeling better. “Again, my thanks,” he said, turning in a slow circle.

“This could be a painter’s studio,” Tara said, her wide eyes full of delight. “I envisioned the hideout at the end of that passage to be dark.”

Nick winked at Wayne. So his squire had shared all of his secrets. Best not to keep more from Tara if he hoped for the same candor in return. “My vision and power are fueled by good light and open sky. Morgana’s power is rooted to the earth,” he explained. “Putting this in the basement would have been a detriment and made me less effective.”

“Let’s get started,” Nick said before Tara could react. He gingerly drew the contents from the envelope. Several old papers were carefully unfolded and separated from their protective layers. “If the solstice is her target time, we have to work fast.”

He and Tara listened as Nick explained the various maps and documents. Perusing the maps of leylines and comparing those mystical energy currents to the pockets of dense city growth fascinated him. The page of instructions handed down from his original squire reiterated that his confidence in Peter had not been misplaced after all, despite his broken vow.

Standing beside her, Wayne knew of Tara’s every breath. He appreciated her astute questions and her fiery grit. The woman enthralled him, and uncertain how much time he might have with her, he intended to treasure every minute.

He watched her while she was engrossed with her cousin’s recitations. He’d met her only yesterday and already he was a changed man. Affected in ways he could not describe adequately. Not the least of which was this flutter of hope under his breastbone. Arthur had been wise to prepare him for the worst. For failure. Except this unimaginable world, this captivating woman felt like an undeserved reward.

No, he would not have been pleased at all if the squire had taken lethal action against the woman bearing his first son. Such an unjust tragedy would surely have loosed some other terror into the world.

“It’s all in the balances,” he murmured.

“What’s that? Where?” Tara frowned at the maps, searching for some symbol on the page to fit his interruption.

“Something I learned in Avalon.”

Her eyes glinted with the bright curiosity that charmed him. “Someday I want to hear all about that.”

He hoped the day would come when he could share that with her. “I studied there so I would be better prepared for any eventuality,” he said to Nick.

“I know.” Nick cracked his knuckles, his gaze on the maps. “Peter studied there too,” he said.

The revelation startled Wayne and, judging by her sharp gasp, it surprised Tara as well. “Did he tell you how he found the island?”

“That part of the story wasn’t shared with me,” Nick admitted. “Or with anyone from what I can tell. I’ve searched before.”

Wayne recalled his only visit with perfect clarity. “Chances are Peter never knew how he stumbled upon Avalon, only that access was granted to him when he needed it.” He wondered if the island still existed in any form. Tara said it was only legend now. Perhaps it had mystically drifted away amid changing beliefs and overflowing humanity. Should he fail here, would the Lady of the Lake have another option? He didn’t want to take that chance. Though two other knights had answered Arthur’s summons, he had no way of knowing how they fared.

Nick, sensing his discomfort, directed their attention back to the map showing the leylines crisscrossing the world. “Based on what the two of you described last night and the limited time, I think we should focus our search in Manhattan.”

“The witch attacked us here in Brooklyn,” Tara reminded him. “She was less than a block from the pub. We can’t afford to miss her.”

“There is a strong line running near the pub,” Wayne said, his finger tracing the faded mark over the outlines of water and land.

“Yes,” Nick agreed. “Stronger currents converge in a nexus on Manhattan.” He indicated the point with his finger. “See this line?” His finger hovered over the spot. “It tracks right back to Arthur’s kingdom.”

“Not just his kingdom, the valley where I confronted Morgana.” Wayne deliberated over the more modern maps, noting details of changed borders and new names for places he’d known. “It cannot be coincidence.”

He shifted the maps around to show Nick and Tara the cave where he’d bound Morgana. “Peter and I camped near here that last night.” He swallowed the surprising rush of emotion. “Sterling and I attacked at dawn, using the time when I am strongest. We fought all day before getting close enough to cast the binding spell.”

“Then what?” Nick asked.

“I do not know.” That was the last thing he remembered about that day. About his old life. “Either we made it out, or Peter came in and dragged us out.”

“When I went for the maps, I searched through the journals we have. There’s no documentation of those immediate hours afterward.”

“How can that be?” Tara flared her hands wide. “Those details could be important. You said you’ve been trained for generations for this scenario. We’ve both heard the family ‘legends’ since birth. Why are these key points missing?”

“For your protection,” Wayne answered. He straightened up and stepped back from the table, his head rapping lightly into an angled beam overhead. The bump made him more aware of how little he fit into this new world.

“The dagger I used in the spell was blood-bound to Peter.” Wayne had learned those sorts of precautions with magic at his sister’s knee. A strong foundation the priestesses in Avalon had built upon. “Speaking or documenting all of the details would have created more risk and increased the odds that any descendants or students of the cult would learn the truth.”

“Then all of the O’Malleys are in danger. That’s why you didn’t want any family at the pub.”

“No.” Wayne couldn’t look at Tara. “That was so the witch couldn’t use them against you.” He braced for her temper, but it was too late to hold back anything now. If the worst happened to him in the coming fight, she and her cousin would need the information to train the next generation how to stand against the looming evil. “If the young witch is dug in, if the cult is as strong in this century as it was in the past, only you are in grave danger, Tara. The dagger is blood-bound solely to the proper owner.”

Nick whistled. “You were a careful bastard weren’t you?”

“I tried to be,” Wayne said. “Yet the cult survives.”

“You’re sure the woman - the witch - you saw on the street last night is the leader?” Tara asked.

“As sure as I can be at this point,” he said. “The tattoos we saw, her skills with magic, and the way she disabled me on the street. Even your dream. If she is not the strongest, I fear the battle is already lost.”

Tara blew out a breath, the shadows under her eyes standing out against her fair skin. “A cult that believes in Morgan Le Fey hiding in plain sight in Manhattan,” Tara said. “Un-freakin-believable.”

“Not exactly plain sight,” Nick grumbled. “You know the city history as well as I do,” he said to Tara. “She could be right on the nexus, or have found a tunnel route to it.”

“She would be as close as possible,” Wayne said. “The power there would be intoxicating.” He glanced down at his hound, knowing the bond there was deeper than function or a lifetime of shared experience and training. The magic pulled them as effectively as magnetic forces, keeping them linked, fueling their need to stay linked. “A power source is a double-edged sword. It feeds, and nourishes even as it becomes a vulnerable spot.”

“All right. We can work with that,” Nick said. “My guess is you came through a portal on this leyline.” He tapped the modern map once more. “Factoring the quick response to your appearance, and investigation of the theft, I’m guessing she is holed up at the very center of the nexus and using it to her advantage.” He unfolded a colorful piece of paper and spread it flat on the table. “This is a tourist guide for Manhattan proper. Between the dead bodies and the archives, I went by the corner where you spotted her last night. The trail was subtle, but I followed it straight to Times Square before I lost it completely.”

Tara gawked at her cousin. “You can track magic?”

“A little,” Nick replied with a smirk. “What? You have your family responsibilities, I have mine.”

Wayne was more impressed than ever with all Peter had done in preparation. “To release Morgana, she will go underground, straight to the nexus. She will need every power boost available to break the spell.”