Page 133 of Dark Rival

“Royce!” she cried.

Before he took a step toward her, she flung herself into his arms.

He did not move, shocked by the feeling of her small, soft body in his arms. He did not even know what this woman looked like and he wanted her instantly, with a terrible urgency. Something was terribly familiar, yet he knew he’d never met—or held—this woman before.

She was a Healer. In spite of her fear, he could identify the strong healing force of her power.

She clung, shaking, and whispered, “The snakes.”

He realized they were seething about his bare feet—and hers. He held her close with one arm and reached up. “MacNeil?”

MacNeil handed him a burning torch. Ruari took it, waving the torch, scattering the snakes away from their feet. Then he looked at her.

His heart vanished. The loveliest woman he had ever seen smiled at him, and love was shining in her dark eyes. She loved him. What was this?

He was almost certain he knew her; still, if they’d met, he’d have taken her as a lover, and he knew he had never had her in his bed. As his shock began to fade, something primitive, possessive and triumphant arose, while blood rushed into his loins. He smiled back at her.

Her eyes widened. “Oh,” she breathed as if she’d just made her own discovery.

He didn’t understand. “Let me get ye up.”

“You’re not my Royce,” she said, her eyes now huge.

Again, her meaning was so strange. Did she belong to someone else? He did not care. Soon she would find out that he was very different from other men, but not strange or exotic. He waved the torch at the snakes again, and then laid it carefully down. He grasped her by her tiny waist and handed her up to MacNeil. A moment later, he gave MacNeil his hand and was hauled upward to stand beside the small woman and the Master. He stepped closer to her, so MacNeil would understand he would not be allowed to poach.

“Are ye hurt?” he asked her. Real concern arose. “Did Kael touch ye?”

She shook her head. “No.” She glanced at MacNeil. “Where is Moffat?”

“I dinna ken Moffat.”

She tensed, paling. “Is Kael dead? Is Brigdhe okay?”

Her speech was odd—she was a foreigner. “Kael is dead,” Ruari said. “My brother is takin’ Brigdhe from here.”

She faced him, breathing hard. “Go to your wife. Do whatever you have to do to make her forgive you. This was not your fault!”

“My marriage is over,” he said.

She whirled back to MacNeil. “Moffat is hunting Royce—in the fifteenth century! Please, find him and warn him.”

MacNeil seemed to understand her, but astonishment rose on Ruari’s part. Did this woman mean that he was being hunted in the future? Her dress was very fine, very strange. Did she belong to him in another time? Oh, that did please him. But he thought of the deamhan in the robes he had seen earlier, and he instantly knew that had been Moffat.

“Moffat was here when I first broke into the fortress,” he said. “He leapt.”

She cried out. “I have to find Royce!”

MacNeil said, “If he is here, he has no powers.”

She blanched.

“I will make certain he goes safely back to his time—an’ you must go back, as well,” MacNeil said.

Ruari stepped between them, fury beginning. “The maid belongs to me,” he warned.

“She belongs to the future an’ ye’ll let her go,” MacNeil said as firmly.

“I dinna think so.”