Page 12 of Darro

Going to bed or just sitting down seemed impossible now. She had stepped inside the dream story of her career, and she couldn’t do a thing to report what she’d discovered. There were other things she could do, like eat something. The food and drink delivered by one of the clan’s maids sat on the table by the fire, and another girl had filled the washstand’s jug with hot water. Neither one had tried to speak to her, and when she had started asking questions they simply curtseyed and rushed out of the room like she was paparazzi.

She hoped she hadn’t scared them. She’d already noticed the lack of brown-skinned people here. Was that why they’d stuck her here, and no one wanted to talk to her? Did she look that scary to them? Was that even possible in this day and age?

But it’s not this day and age, remember?

She had evidently walked through something that had whisked her off to this alternate dimension, if the not-dead FBI agent was to be believed. Other than the racial imbalance and the staff avoiding her, everything about Dun Talamh appeared to support Ava’s story. The castle itself seemed newer compared to the one in Esme’s time, as if there was never any bad weather in the spell trap—or maybe it couldn’t age in this place. The laird’s wife hadn’t explained all the mechanics of being caught in a time loop that kept a city-size castle and all its people imprisoned for eternity. It really didn’t matter; everywhere Esme looked she saw a reproduction display of artifacts in a museum, just more authentic. That put a lot of pluses on the not-being-hustled side of the equation.

No way could they con me this much.

Meeting Ava, the supposedly dead supermodel, and members of a clan that disappeared in the twelfth century had certainly been the most bizarre aspect, but the explanation of the curse that had tossed everyone in this place made perfect sense of it. Thanks to a college seminar on quantum mechanics, Esme had a rough understanding of the theory of parallel worlds. She believed there could be multiverses with different versions of reality that existed side by side with each other, or even occupied the same space on different levels. She wasn’t so sure about the Fae magic part of this, which she would have to accept for all the other details to work, but she was almost there.

The one true oddity was Chieftain Darro McKeran, the living, breathing version of the painted warrior from the castle in her world.

How did a guy from an old painting she’d wanted to meet so much turn out to be a real living, breathing man? He was what made her still wonder if she was hallucinating all of this. What were the odds that he would be the one to find her? Could this be some kind of strange dream she was having after being bitten by that spider and falling unconscious? Was she even now in that passage dying, and this was a near-death experience? Or would she wake up in an ambulance with someone sticking a tube down her throat so she could keep breathing? Her chest rose and fell rapidly as if a bunch of hyper bunnies were bouncing around in her lungs.

Calm down, mija, her grandfather whispered in her head. Wait until you know before you suppose.

Esme couldn’t deny that she had blundered into something extraordinary. Running from the present into the past or whatever this place was, meeting people she’d assumed were dead, and them telling her what had happened to most of the people who had gone missing was every journalist’s biggest dream come true. When she went back to her time she could write an article that would blow everyone’s mind. She’d take proof with her, too, which would get her guest appearances on television talk shows for months. She’d give a first-hand account of stumbling onto this place, and how in the process she had solved nearly a hundred missing persons cases. It was like a cross between proving King Arthur had been real and that aliens really did visit the earth.

Only she couldn’t go back.

This is why no one knows what happens to those who go missing in McKeran’s Castle. Once they’re here, they’re trapped for good.

Esme had a strange sense that she had been lured here; this despite it being her idea to leave the tour group. That golden spider suddenly appearing on her arm seemed now less like a random thing. The whole experience nagged at her like a sore tooth. Even more ominous was Ava’s warning about the recent attacks on them by enchanted bugs and the alterations in a time loop that hadn’t changed for nine centuries. If she could accept the magical aspects of the situation, then she had to acknowledge that something was going wrong in this place.

Was Beaumont mixed up in that, too?

Frustration made Esme circle the room for a while, but she was unable to tire herself out or relax. Finally she slipped her feet back into her shoes and walked out into the passage, where she nearly collided with Darro. He looked even bigger than before, filling up almost half the space in the hall, or so it seemed. She was glad to see him, however. He had an aura of calm about him that made the panicky rabbits jumping around in her chest immediately settle down.

“Oh, hello again.” She saw the way he tensed and looked past her, and how he put a hand on the hilt of the dagger on his belt. “Don’t worry, no bug on me this time.”

He nodded while looking over her head. “I’m glad to hear that, my lady.”

Just his presence made Esme’s palms go sweaty, and she rubbed them against her arms. If she didn’t calm down, he’d have to make soothing her his full-time job. The prospect of having Darro McKeran as her personal therapist appealed to her more than it should have, too.

“Is there anything I can do here?” she asked him. “I’m not tired enough to sleep yet.”

He looked at her with his beautiful dark eyes, looking as if he wasn’t sure what to say. When she took a step toward him his body grew rigid, as if he thought she might attack him and was bracing himself for it.

Is he afraid of me?

That didn’t line up with how he had acted before in that big room. Perhaps he was shy and she was misreading him; that could explain why he was so tense being alone with her. She had never been timid in her life, so shy people tended to puzzle her. She caught that warm woody scent again, and as she breathed it in she realized it was coming from him. He smelled so wonderful she wished she could hug him and hold onto him all night. At the same time she suspected if she touched him he’d flinch.

What was going on with this man?

After he still didn’t say anything for a while Esme asked, “Maybe I can go for a walk so I can tire myself out?”

“Of course, my lady.” He shook his head a little, as if he were dazed, and then looked at her with wariness in his calm eyes. “If I may accompany you?”

“Sure.” Esme had already guessed she wouldn’t be allowed to wander around the castle. She nearly tucked her arm through his before she stopped herself; she needed to be more subtle and stop intimidating this man. “Lead the way.”

Keeping an obvious distance between them, Darro walked with her to some stairs at the end of the passage, which went both ways. He led her down them and through another hall before he opened a door to the outside. The whole time she walked beside him Esme wanted to ask if he had a girlfriend, which she knew was ridiculous. Of course he had one; no guy as big and good-looking as the chieftain would be sleeping alone. She was pretty sure no woman could resist him—she was all but drooling over the guy herself—but making him aware of that might only make him more nervous.

“Where are we going now?” she asked.

That seemed to startle him, but he tried to hide his reaction by gesturing toward some plants.

“Into our gardens. They’re more fetching in the day light.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his head as if puzzled. “Only ’tis empty of vassals now.”