Timeless Vision (22 page)

“No. That’s not what I meant.” Nick walked over and draped an arm around her shoulders. For a moment, they stood like that, watching the dog sniff out every last crumb of the treat. “I know you, cousin. Your heart is smack in the middle of this now.”

She couldn’t deny it. “He’s hotter than the devil and twice as irresistible,” she said, willing Nick to accept the flippant answer.

“Not buying it.”

“Would you believe he aimed a love spell at me?”

“Gawain the Gallant?” Nick snorted. “No way.”

“You make him sound like he’s out of my league,” she said.

“Nah.” Nick gave her an encouraging squeeze. “You’re too good for him.”

“You’re family, you have to say that. None of this makes me feel better,” she pointed out.

“What would?” he asked.

A declaration of love from Wayne wouldn’t hurt. A promise of a future? Definitely. Both options were far too much to ask of him right now. She wanted to believe there would be time to talk about it once they stopped Collette. If only she had some idea what stopping Collette tonight would require of them.

“I suppose you won’t let me go for a walk.”

“No,” he replied. “He’ll be back soon.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because Sterling isn’t worried,” Nick replied.

“We’re taking our cues from the dog now?”

“A dog that’s traveled through time,” he added with a chuckle. “That makes it legit.”

“Oh, definitely.” She stood there another moment, simply enjoying the quiet comfort her cousin offered. He really was the cream of the O’Malley crop.

“I punched him,” Nick said. “When I thought you wouldn’t make it. He let me.” He wrapped her in a bone-crushing hug. “I wish I could tell you he won’t hurt you.”

She patted his back as tears blurred her vision. “Life doesn’t come with guarantees,” she managed after a moment. “And love is worth the hurt.” Two of the oldest O’Malley family wisdoms, trotted out in all kinds of circumstances. They’d probably originated with Peter himself when he’d learned he’d broken his vow before he had a chance to keep it. Something about that awareness popped a release valve in her chest and the tension she’d been harboring drifted away.

“Would you go look for him?” she asked Nick. “I don’t like the idea of him navigating New York alone.”

“If he wanted my company, he’d have invited me along rather than sneak out.”

“True.” She stepped away from him. “I guess I’ll practice my less than stellar patience skills.” Opening the cabinet under the kitchen sink, she pulled out cleaning supplies.

“You’re going to clean? Today?”

“If I don’t do something to pass the time I’ll explode. We know Collette won’t begin until well past sundown.”

Nick stepped back. “I won’t stop you.”

Naturally, he didn’t offer to help either. He had his own details and research to tend to. In all the documentation from his side of the family tree, he was determined to find something that would help Wayne overcome the wicked witch of Manhattan.

Tara started with the dishes, then moved on to counters and cabinets. Nothing had been neglected, before they moved in, but it kept her busy. Sterling watched her, seemingly baffled by her inability to relax. He managed to stay out of her way while keeping her in sight even when she brought out the mop. He took on a supervisor’s post on the couch as she dusted and vacuumed the front room. And when she walked all three floors emptying trash cans he trailed after her.

In the kitchen, she tied off the big trash bag and then pushed open the door to dump it in the garbage bin out back. The greyhound barked a split second before she heard a foot splash through a puddle from the earlier rain.

She bolted for the open door, shouting for Nick as a hand caught her shirt, yanked her back. She kicked and punched at her attacker and tried to scream again, only to have the sound trapped by a rough palm scraping against her mouth.

Sterling howled, leaping into the fray as she felt the sting of a needle in her neck. She tried to order him back into the house and out of danger, but the world was fading too quickly. Her vision went first, then a buzzing filled her ears as her legs failed her. Then she knew nothing at all.

~*~

Wayne had left Tara in bed and come out on this cloudy, dreary day to search Brooklyn for clues. He had to
do
something. Nick and Tara had put their all into this crisis and he’d been floundering about feeling incapable. In his own time, he would have had a plan and taken appropriate actions. Here, in an overpopulated century rife with technology that dulled the senses, he felt useless.

There were devices to replace everything he could offer. The priestess in Avalon had shown him a great deal, easing the shock of his transition to whatever future he encountered, but no amount of knowledge could ease the realization that he was an outdated relic of little value anymore.

Well, until an hour ago. At last he was making progress and feeling as though he could contribute more than the occasional history lesson. He’d known the magic he used to bring back Tara would draw Collette’s spies and he’d managed to slip away from Nick’s supervision long enough to get out of the brownstone and pick up a trail. With any luck, the man would lead him to Collette’s lair.

As a precaution, he’d left Sterling on guard at the house to keep Tara safe or to lead Nick out in case Wayne got into trouble.

He kept to the shadows as he followed Collette’s spy through the neighborhood. Surely the man would head back to Manhattan soon for tonight’s ritual. He couldn’t believe any of Collette’s followers would be allowed to stray far on such an important night.

The strength of Collette’s power was tied to the earth. He didn’t need Nick’s research to confirm that her ritual chamber would be in an underground fortress right on the nexus.

It surprised him when the spy didn’t aim for the subway or hail a taxi to go back to Manhattan. Collette couldn’t possibly allow the team watching the brownstone to live apart from the center of the cult for long. The man didn’t behave as if he knew Wayne was trailing him. The man’s blithe attitude tempted Wayne to attack and beat some answers out of him. Only the brutal memory of the failure in the subway kept him in check.

The spy picked up his pace as he turned the corner and squeezed through the back gate of a massive church in the gothic style looming over the street. Was Collette’s lair really this close?

Wayne felt goose bumps rise on his arms and lift the hair at the nape of his neck. He backed away, heeding his intuition. Suddenly his vision blurred and he was seeing through Sterling’s eyes. He ducked into the safety of an alley between two buildings, pressing his back to the cold, damp bricks while he sorted out the rush of images.

Sterling showed him his worst nightmare and he watched, helpless as two of Collette’s tattooed followers dragged Tara’s unconscious body down the narrow lane behind the house. Where was Nick? Wayne started to move back to the brownstone when a pale vehicle pulled into Sterling’s view. The men loaded Tara into the trunk. As the car pulled away, Sterling showed him every available detail. Assuming Nick hadn’t been killed, they would at least have something to go on.

Using his connection to the hound, he sent the dog back inside to check on Nick. Wayne waited, his eyes on the street and his ears open for the sound of an engine. If by some miracle the lair was on this side of the river, he could rescue Tara momentarily.

The car didn’t show up. The street remained quiet, except for the soft shower of rain spilling from the heavy clouds above. By nighttime, as the temperatures dropped, it would turn to snow. Loping back to join Nick and Sterling, Wayne cursed his stubborn reluctance to carry one of the cell phones Nick and Tara preferred. As Sterling’s howl carried through the streets, Wayne abandoned stealth for urgency and raced back to the brownstone, his sword snug against his back under his jacket.

The back door was still open when he arrived. He skidded to a stop at the threshold and used his mystical bond to reach out to Sterling. The dog barked and a few seconds later he heard the sound of paws and Nick’s footsteps hurrying down the stairs.

Wayne crossed the threshold, slammed the door behind him, and checked the magic covering the locks. “What happened?” he demanded when Nick reached the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Nick looked around. “Where’s Tara?”

“Collette has her.”

“She can’t.” Nick stared at the dog as if Sterling would suddenly spout an explanation in perfect English. “It’s impossible,” he said, his face a mask of baffled denial. “No. She was right here cleaning. Collette can’t breach the doors.”

“I don’t know how or why, I only know they grabbed her outside.” Wayne snapped his fingers and his hound came to his side. “I was trailing one of the cult members to that big gothic church a block over from the pub. The car Sterling saw them dump her in never showed up there.”

“Collette wouldn’t take her there. It’s not even on a leyline,” Nick stated. “I’ve been looking at the old maps, going through the records and chasing down rumors of power surges.” He motioned for Wayne to follow as he left the kitchen. “I’m sure she’s sticking close to the nexus in Manhattan.”

“Under it, you mean.” Wayne withheld judgment until Nick could share his reasoning. “She might have a suite at the hotel, but we didn’t actually see the cult gathered as a whole.”

“You felt the power,” Nick reminded him when they were safely in the attic space. “Think of Camelot.”

“I try not to,” Wayne replied. Thinking of the past only made living here more challenging. Although sharing this time with Tara had distinct advantages. If Collette hurt her...

Nick shuffled the papers around. “Not Camelot as a specific memory, as a strategic installation. Was the round table in the outer bailey?”

“Of course not.” Wayne scoffed at the preposterous idea.

“That’s my point. Think of the hotel as the inner bailey, the operation shelters her most sacred space.”

“I’ll be damned.” Wayne had sensed the power near the hotel. “You’re right. She’ll have her team use the fastest, closest route to the nexus so she can keep her prize at the heart of her power source.” Knowing she’d have the dagger and the nexus to amplify her power made a rescue even more dangerous and stacked the odds against them.

“How do we break through to stop her?”

Wayne closed his eyes, furious that he’d been so prideful and distracted that he’d allowed the witch to capture Tara, the source of the one thing guaranteed to break the binding spell. His original squire had gone above and beyond, training the following generations so thoroughly for any contingency and here he shows up and wrecks it all.

Peter had realized far more than Wayne could imagine. The man who lived and loved knew better what was at stake. The imminent threat against his offspring had swung like the Sword of Damocles over their collective heads. Which child would be the sacrifice to break Morgana free? Which generation would let down their guard and put all of humanity at risk?

Knowing Tara as he did, loving her as he did, he felt the full weight of terror in his heart. Losing Tara would destroy him, he knew it. There would be no recovery if Collette succeeded in her bid for Morgana’s unimaginable dark power.

As Nick alternately studied the hotel blueprints and the old subway excavation maps, Wayne studied his friend. Friend. The word echoed through his mind, momentarily distracting him. He’d nearly overlooked the significance of having a new friend. A friend, as true as Arthur or any of the knights he’d known in his first life.

“We’ll find her,” Wayne said, hoping that speaking the words would make it believable.

“Of course we will,” Nick muttered. “We know exactly where she is.” He gripped the back of his neck. “Whether or not we find her alive is the issue.” He sucked in a breath and blew it out in a gust. “Collette has the dagger and Tara. It’s all but done.”

“Tara will survive. I won’t tolerate any other outcome,” Wayne stated. “Your cousin is for me. I will not allow the witch to have her.”

Nick’s eyes went wide in his face. “For you.” He swallowed, apparently the maps mattered less to him as well in the face of this news. “She isn’t a prize in the cereal box to cart around and show off to your pals.”

Wayne struggled with the modern reference, though he picked up on the general meaning. “She is a treasure and I love her. I meant no disrespect.”

“Fine,” Nick snapped. “You love her. How will that work? Will she go back with you or will you stay here with her?”

“I don’t know.” He had his suspicions and no answers that would satisfy a man as protective and invested as Nick. “First we rescue Tara.” Once she was out of danger, he could take swift action against the woman who fancied herself a powerful sorceress. “Second -”

“We put down Collette,” Nick finished the sentence for him. “Where the hell is the back door,” he said, his eyes tracking the blueprints again.

“You remind me of my squire,” Wayne admitted quietly. “You are surely an echo of the man he became after he saw to every detail that would protect us.” He put his hand on Sterling’s head, beyond grateful despite the play of events that hadn’t gone as planned.

“Thanks.” The tips of Nick’s ears turned red at the compliment. “Whatever happened after you cast the spell, Peter improvised in double time, that’s for sure. Maybe some part of him will inspire us as we improvise a rescue today.”

“Tara is strong,” Wayne said, reminding both of them.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. His face etched with worry, he returned his focus to the plans. “So is the witch.”

“Not as strong as she believes,” Wayne said. “Whether she means to free Morgana as the rightful leader or steal her power as I suspect, having both the dagger and Tara will do her little good.”

He had Nick’s full attention once more. “Isn’t that the whole point of the blood-bound spell?”

“Collette has done her research and capitalized on myths to rise up and gather a cult. She has influence and loyalty. Her inherent power is weak.”

“She’s leveled you a time or two.”