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No. Never.
Not a million, billion years!
Not logical. Not real.
Unless...
Unless, it was.
“This might sound like a really dumb question,” I choked out. “But what date is this?”
Bryant’s frown deepened. “June the fifteenth at my last count.”
“What year?” I questioned, gripping his arm hard.
“What?”
“Tell me!”
“The year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and...Miss McEwan? Callista!”
FATED MATES
CHAPTER 6
End of the World as We Know It
My eyes fluttered open to a brightness that painfully squeezed them shut again.
Gasping, I sat up too fast and my brain viciously spun, but it was the stinging lump on my forehead that reminded me of the cave accident where I had blacked out in the first place.
Where was I?
A bedroom, I assessed.
Nothing was familiar though—the blue ceramic pitcher and basin, the decorative vase of wildflowers, the antique furnishings and handmade doilies, the white lace curtains in the windows. I was lying in a feather bed with an orange and yellow sunburst quilt draped over me now, and still wearing my gritty khaki shirt and shorts.
Maggie.
She must have come looking for me in the cave, then found and pulled me out and raced me back to...
A bolt of lightning struck my brain straight between the eyes, making me see stars and almost vomit. Probably had a nasty concussion then.
Of course. The cave, the quake, the rocks raining down and cracking my skull.
“Just a dream then,” I breathed with relief.
One crazy, very vivid dream brought on by the concussion.
It all made sense. Every fractured image fit perfectly into place—my fantasy mountain man from Hilly’s museum photo, the Arcan Hunters that Maggie had told me about. Even traveling back to the old west because of her teasing remark about strange things happening during the summer solstice today.
Today? Or yesterday?
How long had I been out?
Wait, why wasn’t I in a hospital then?
Throwing off the quilt, I swung my legs around and started to stand on my stockinged feet, but my swollen left ankle instantly gave out, crumbling me to my knees.
