Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) by Geralyn Beauchamp Page A

prone to do. I tried to get them to calm down. I…”
    “How did you get the dogs to calm down, Dallan?” John suddenly interjected.
    Dallan cocked his head. “I told them to be quiet, o’ course.”
    “In English?” Lany asked, coming away from t he door way to stand behind John, face still intense.
    Dallan’s head tilted even further. “I dinna remember. What’s the diff erence, sir?”
    Lany looked at John, not able to see his face from where he stood. It was just as well; he could sense the tension coming from his superior. “Nothing,” he said quietly.
    Dallan sighed again, though shakily. “’Twas then I smelled it.”
    “Smelled what?” John urged mildly.
    “A scent like wild fl owers. The fi nest scent I’ve ever kent the likes of. It suddenly was all around me, in the breeze.”
    Lany gave John’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and John nodded silently.
    “Then I saw her,” Dallan sighed, his v oice low and silky. Either from relief at the admission or a caress meant for the source of his most cherished memory.
    John and Lany both smiled, hoping…
    “She was a wee y ounger than I, smaller too, a nd had the most glorious hair I’ve ever seen. It was full of colors. Cinnamon, honey, rust and gold.” Dal lan smiled. " ’Twas a bonny sight with the sun on it, the wind lifting it away from her fac e. Made her look like something magical .” He straightened in his chair, his stare gripping John harder. “I ken t right away she was one o’ the Faerie Folk. I should ha’ run for my life, but I didna. I just stood there, stared at her. I couldna ha’ looked away if I’d wanted to.”
    John’s face beamed appreciatively despite the stare that held him. He nodded again.
    “Then… she looked right at me, a peculiar expression on her face.” Dallan paused in recollection, searching for words. “Ye ken how it is when so meone looks , recognizes who ye are. Mayhaps they've no s een ye in a verra long time. Th ey want to f i nd out how ye’ve been and ask after yer folk and wee bairns…” He sighed softly, almost shakily. “That’s how she looked at me.”
    Dallan leaned forward. So did John. "Like she recognized who I was, John.” He sat back in his chair. “She wa s the most beautiful thing I ever laid eyes on. She just stood there and stared at me, s miling .” He smiled himself, automatically causing John and Lany to do the same. Both were too encouraged now to do anything else.
    “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful since. Nay, not since her.” His eyes gripped John with everything they had. John winced slightly. “I gave my heart away then, gave it to the wee lassie, like… I dinna ken how to explain it. Like a gift?”
    Lany’s grip tightened on John, who leaned forward even further.
    “I didna speak to her, nay, didna say a word. Somehow she kent what I was th inking, feeling.  W hat I off ered too. My only hope and prayer ‘twas she wouldna give it back. If she would take and keep it forever.” Dallan’s voice trailed off on the last few words, his eyes smiling . “And she did. She took it, kept it.”
    Dallan’s eyes released John suddenly as he abruptly looked away. Th e action not only broke the spell , but startled both the Lord Councilor and his assistant. John pitched forward unexpectedly, Lany moving with him. The questionnaire in John’s lap dropped to the fl oor. John shook himself, trying to dislodge the mesmerizing eff ects of the Scot’s stare.
    Dallan glanced back to John, watching him as he and Lany picked up their eff ects and repositioned themselves as they were before. His look had turned to the window by the time they were done. “I’ve been thinking about her, the wee lassie, wondering if she still has it.”
    Lany’s hand clutched John’s shoulder anew. Both men tensed. “Has… your heart?” John managed to whisper.
    Dallan turned his attention back to the two men. “Aye.”
    “What makes you think she might have it?” Lany asked