as his younger self turned to face Moray, who held Ian tightly to his chest.
And that huge, unnatural force began pulling him inexorably toward the trio. Aidan screamed in warning at Ian, at himself, but no one heard him. He saw the silver dagger flash.
The anguish was even greater now, but so was the rage.
He fell to his knees, howling and maddened, and then he leapt back in time again.
And again.
And again.
And each and every time, it was the same. An entire village destroyed by his command, one small woman and child fleeing and Moray still murdering Ian before his very eyes, only to vanish with his dead child.
And finally he gave up.
He roared and roared, blinded by the grief. He cursed evil; he cursed the gods. He was below Awe’s curtain walls, although he did not recall returning from the village. And then, finally, the tower roof above his head collapsed. The entire wing of the castle started to crumble. He wept, openly and brokenly, as the stone walls rained down upon him. And when he was buried beneath his own castle walls, he became still and silent.
Aidan waited to die.
CHAPTER ONE
The Present September 2008, New York City
THE ROAR OF HUMAN PAIN AWOKE HER.
Brianna Rose sat bolt upright, awoken from a deep sleep, horrified by the sound. It was filled with rage and anguish and disbelief. And then the pain cut through her.
She doubled over in her bed, clutching herself as if someone had actually slid a butcher’s knife through her chest. For one moment, she could not breathe. She had never experienced that kind of anguish in her twenty-six years. Panting hard, she prayed for the pain to end. Then, suddenly, it did.
But as the torment vanished abruptly, a man’s handsome image flared in her mind.
A new, terrible tension began. Carefully, Brie sat upright, shaken and stunned. Her loft was silent, except for the sounds of the cars and cabs driving by outside on the street, and the accompaniment of blaring horns. She trembled, glancing at her bedside clock. It was ten after one in the morning. What had just happened?
All the Rose women were empathic to one degree or another. Their empathy was supposed to be a gift, but too often it was a curse, like now. She had been consumed with another human being’s pain. Something terrible had just happened, and she could not shake the dark, handsome image she’d just seen from her mind.
Brie trembled, tossing aside the covers. Was Aidan in trouble?
She became very still, her mouth dry, her heart thundering. She’d met him exactly a year ago, perhaps for two whole minutes. Her best friend, Allie, had been missing for weeks and she’d returned briefly to New York—from the Middle Ages—with Aidan’s help.
He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Allie had explained about the secret Brotherhood and the men belonging to it, men who called themselves the Masters of Time. All were sworn before God to defend mankind from the evil in the night. Brie hadn’t been surprised—there had been rumors of such warriors for as long as she could remember. In fact, like Allie, she and her cousins, Tabby and Sam, had been thrilled that the whispers were reality.
Brianna had no personal delusions. He was absolutely unforgettable, but she knew a man like that would never look at a woman like her twice—or think about her twice, either. She didn’t blame him. She didn’t even mind.
She was really good at wearing baggy clothes to hide her curves, and she never wore her contacts. Her eyeglasses were downright ugly. She knew that if she had her dark hair cut and styled properly, if she dressed fashionably and wore makeup, she’d probably look exactly like her mother, Anna Rose.
Brie had no desire to resemble her beautiful, passionate and rebellious mother in any way. Anna had been that rare Rose woman who had not been handed down any gifts. She had been destructive, not constructive; her touch and beauty damaged instead of helped others. In the end, she had hurt those she loved the most, and she had destroyed not only her own family, but herself. Brie didn’t want to recall finding her mother dead on the kitchen floor, shot by her jealous boyfriend, with her father weeping over Anna’s body. Being a retiring nerd was way better than following in Anna’s footsteps.
But Brie had other gifts, making her a lot less nerdy than she appeared. She had been gifted with the Sight. It was the greatest gift a Rose woman could have, handed down from grandmother to grandchild. Brie had been terrified of her visions at first, but Grandma Sarah had explained that the Sight was a precious gift, one meant to be cherished. It was a great resource, meant to help people, which the Rose women were destined to do—and had been doing for hundreds of years. Grandma Sarah had taught her almost everything she knew about good, evil and life.
By now Brie was almost accustomed to the wiles of Fate. Life wasn’t easy and it wasn’t fair, and the good died young every single day. She didn’t blame Anna for her uncontrollable passions. She knew Anna hadn’t been able to help herself. She’d resented her sisters for having their gifts and their lives, and her own simple marriage hadn’t been enough for her. She’d been an unhappy woman. She had been selfish, but not cruel—and certainly not evil. She hadn’t deserved an early death.
It was all ancient history. Dad had remarried—the best thing that ever could have happened to him. Anna was dead and buried, but not forgotten. Brie was determined to be as solid, dependable and trustworthy as her mother was not. Her life was helping others, giving selflessly—perhaps to make up for all the hurt Anna had inflicted. She was thrilled to be employed by the Center for Demonic Activity, a secret government agency dedicated to the war on evil. There, she fought dark forces throughout the ages from the basement, at a computer.
Her cousins claimed she was doing her best to hide from men. They were right. The last thing she wanted was for a man to notice her. She would probably die a virgin, and it didn’t matter.
Aidan hadn’t noticed her, she was certain, but she had taken one look at him and had fallen hard. She was hopelessly infatuated. She thought about him every day, dreamed about him at night and had even spent hours on the Web, reading about the medieval Highlands. The Rose women came from the northern Highlands originally, so she’d always been fascinated with Scotland’s history, but now she foolishly hoped to learn more about him. When he’d brought Allie back to the city from 1430, he’d appeared to be about twenty-five years old. Allie had returned to her lover, Black Royce, at Carrick Castle in Morvern. Brie wished she’d asked her friend about Aidan, but their visit had been too brief. So she kept returning to Carrick’s history, yearning for a mention of a man named Aidan, but that was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Still, there were many references to the powerful Earl of Morvern and his fair Lady of Carrick. Brie was thrilled. Even across time, she knew Allie and Royce were fulfilling their destinies together.
She would probably never learn anything about Aidan, and she was sensible enough to realize it, but that didn’t stop her crush. A fantasy was harmless. She hadn’t even tried to talk herself out of it. If she was going to fall head over heels in love and never act on it, why not do so with someone absolutely unattainable? Aidan, a medieval Highlander with the power to time travel and a mandate to protect Innocence, was a really, really safe bet.
Brie was feeling sick now. It was one thing to have
