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Brie hung up, slipped on her jeans and sat down to seriously go over the cases she’d pulled. She was immersed in files when the doorbell rang twenty minutes later. She’d found nothing, and she supposed that was a relief. What she didn’t want to find was a dead victim with Aidan’s description. For all she knew, though, he was immortal. She hoped so.
Maybe the worst was over, she thought as she went to let the girls in. Maybe he’d gone back in time, where he belonged.
Tabby entered first, a willowy blonde in slacks and a silk tank top who always looked as if she were on her way to or from the country club. No one would ever guess from looking at her that Tabby was an earth mother. Sam followed, shockingly gorgeous even with her short-cropped platinum hair—but then, she had a Lara Croft from Tomb Raider body. Brie admired her immensely because she was so fearless and so open about her sexuality. She happened to know that Sam’s messenger bag was loaded with weapons, and she carried a stiletto strapped to her thigh beneath the denim miniskirt she wore. On anybody else it might be corny, but on Sam it was darned serious.
Tabby took one look at Brie and rushed to hug her. “You are so worried!”
Sam closed and locked the door. “Did you find anything?” she asked, nodding at the computer.
“He’s probably gone back to his time,” Brie said. She wet her lips, aware of an absurd disappointment.
“Don’t look so happy about it,” Sam said wryly, striding across the loft to the computer and peering at the screen. “I don’t think a man like that is easily hurt.”
“I think he was tortured. I have never felt so much pain,” Brie said.
Sam didn’t look up from the screen, scrolling through files she had no right to view.
Tabby put her arm around Brie. “You’re so pale. Are you all right?”
“I’ll survive,” Brie said, forcing a smile.
“Are you sure it was Aidan?” Tabby asked, rather unnecessarily, as Sam sat down at the desk. Tabby glanced at the poster from the movie The Highlander, which Brie had framed and hung on her living-room wall, her amber gaze narrowing.
“One hundred percent. I saw him as clear as day. It wasn’t a vision, but it wasn’t my imagination, either. I can’t empathize across time. I certainly can’t hear someone cry out from far away. He was here, close by. He was hurt. Really, really hurt.” Brie trembled, feeling sick again.
“If he’s hurt and in the city, we’ll find him,” Sam said firmly.
Brie felt reassured. Sam always got what she wanted.
“When did you put that poster up?” Tabby asked.
Brie blinked at her. “I don’t remember,” she lied, flushing.
Tabby stared. Then she moved toward the living area. “Well, this looks to be an all-nighter,” she said cheerfully. “It’s almost three in the morning, and I don’t think any of us will make it back to bed.” She began laying out her mother’s crystals on the coffee table.
And the roar of anguish began again, deafening Brie. She gasped, stunned by the bellow of rage. Her hands flew automatically to her ears. His pain sent her down to the floor, where she doubled over, crushed by it, consumed by it…imprisoned by it. This time, the sensation was unbearable.
Oh my God, what’s happening to Aidan? Is he being tortured?
“Brie!” Tabby screamed.
Vaguely, she was aware of Tabby holding her, but it didn’t matter.
Brie knew they were ripping his heart out now. They were ripping her heart out. She wept in Tabby’s arms, her world spinning with shocking force and then going black.
Aidan, she somehow thought. He was dying from the torture, and she was dying, too.
NICK FORRESTER sat at his computer in his night-darkened living room, clad only in his jeans. He’d completely forgotten about the leggy blonde who lay asleep in his bed. In fact, he couldn’t recall her name. He’d picked her up outside the Korean grocery, and maybe he hadn’t ever known the name. It was late, but he didn’t need more than a few hours of sleep—especially not after a long round of sex, which he found energizing. Sex always empowered him.
He was working again. The “witch” burnings in the city were on the rise. His latest intelligence debriefing had indicated that Bloomberg was seriously considering calling in the National Guard, and he thought it was about time. Pleasure crimes still dominated the murder rate, but those random demonic acts were almost unpreventable—like suicide bombers. The “witch” burnings were another matter. He knew in his gut that the gang leader of these medieval crimes was a great demon from the past. His gut was always dead-on.
Now he was immersed in medieval history, looking for any references to such burnings in past times. HCU had software to look for coincidental data, but he didn’t trust the damn programs and he never would. The program wasn’t that sophisticated, only matching words and phrases. A single isolated burning of a heretic, a traitor or a witch didn’t interest him, nor did the burning of a thirteenth-century peasant’s home or a baron’s castle. He was looking for a series of the violent crimes, probably committed by a group of adolescents but run by a single, very clever entity.
His cell buzzed.
Nick picked up at the first ring. A woman he did not know spoke. “Brie Rose needs medical attention, ASAP!”
“Who the hell is this?” he demanded, alert but annoyed at her commanding tone. He was wary, too. She could be a crank or even something else.
“Her cousin Sam Rose, and if you don’t want her going to Emergency, you need to send your people in. Hurry—she may be dying.” The phone went dead.
Nick was already speed-dialing his own medevac people while pulling up Brie Rose’s file on his HCU screen. In thirty seconds, he had sent his medical team to her loft and was pulling on a T-shirt, seizing his Beretta, car keys and shoes. He ignored the sleeping blonde as he left his condo, stepping into his shoes in the elevator. A minute later he was peeling out of the building’s underground garage in his black Expedition; eight minutes later he was leaping out of the vehicle, an ambulance marked Cornell Presbyterian already in front of Brie’s building. The ambulance belonged to CDA, and was deliberately mismarked.
He went up with the paramedics, growing aware of Brie’s struggle. He could feel her fighting for her life, and her fear of dying. Alarmed, he searched the perimeter but did not sense evil nearby. He couldn’t discern what had put her on the brink of death.
A beautiful blonde who looked like a rock star met him at the door. he felt her power and instantly knew she was a vigilante warrior. Glancing past her, he saw Brie, unconscious on the floor, in another beautiful woman’s arms. That one had power, too, but it was not that of a Slayer’s. He didn’t have time to try to identify it.
Although he knew the gossips nailed him as cold and uncaring, it wasn’t true. He’d hand-selected every single employee at HCU and considered them all his personal responsibility, especially mousy Brie. He was even a bit fond of her—and not because she was brilliant. He felt sorry for her. She was a recluse, with no life outside of work. He had sensed her powers before he’d hired her. It had taken him a moment to decide what they were but he could read minds whenever he chose and he was fairly conscienceless about it if it was in the line of duty. He didn’t expect her to come clean. He knew that her unusual perceptions were often used on the cases he sent to her and that worked fine for him.
As the medics went to take her vitals, he said grimly, “What happened?”
The woman holding Brie in her arms looked up at him. He felt his interest quicken. She was elegance and beauty personified. She said hoarsely, “She’s empathic, and someone we know was being tortured. She felt everything they did to him. She’s hurt.”
“No kidding.” He was wary. These women were outsiders. How much did they know? And vigilantes always messed up his investigations. He looked at his watch. It was 3:24 a.m. “When did it start?”
“Eight minutes ago,” the blonde with the body said. From her voice, he knew she was Sam Rose.
“Frank?” he asked.
“Her pulse is weak and her blood pressure is low,” the medic said, administering oxygen.
Brie’s eyes fluttered. Nick knelt beside her, smiling. “Hey, kiddo. We’ll take care of you. Tell me about your friend.”
She gasped weakly, “I think they’re slowly killing him, Nick.” Tears fell. “Please help him. He’s one of us.”
He stared at her, lurking. His eyes widened; Brie had met one of the Highland warriors? He was her friend? His agents had been hoping to bring in a Master for a long, long time.
“She had an episode earlier,” Sam said tersely. “That was when she called us.”
Nick absorbed that. “What do you know about the Highlander?”
Sam Rose was good, he had to hand it to her. Her eyes didn’t even widen, not a drop. “I’m worried,” she said. “If this person is being tortured, Brie might go through this again when they start in on him.”
“She won’t make it,” the other blonde cried. “I’ve never seen her like this.”
“Take her to Five,” Nick said. Because the agency was covert, CDA had its own medical facilities known simply a Five. But as Brie was loaded onto a stretcher, he pulled Frank aside. “Can an extreme empathic reaction kill her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it a safer bet to keep her sedated until we can remove the source of the empathic reaction?” When Frank nodded, Nick said, “Do it.”
The Town & Country blonde said, “I’m staying with her.”
Nick seized her shoulder, staring as coldly as he could. It wasn’t hard to do; he was getting pissed. How much did these women know?
“Lady, you are not cleared to stay with her. You and your friend are coming with me, now, to my office.”
She stared at him, close to tears. “After we tell you what we know, I beg you to let me stay with her.”
“I’ll think about it.” He looked at the warrior, Sam; and because he didn’t like the look in her eyes, he read her mind. “You’re coming with me, but I’ll put all my agents in the field. If your friend is in the city, we’ll find him.”
Sam stared at him, clearly unhappy with his decision. He was aware she wanted to hunt. “Yeah, well, I hope you find him alive,” she mocked.
BRIE STRUGGLED TO SWIM THROUGH the thick, heavy darkness. She heard voices, but they seemed impossibly far away; still, she wanted to reach them. Some of the darkness shifted…lifted. Her mind flickered. She needed to think. There was something happening, something she had to do. She didn’t know where she was, but she sensed Tabby and Sam were nearby, and there was relief in the comprehension.
“Brie? It’s me, Tabby. Can you hear me?”
Tabby sounded closer now. Why was she so heavy, so groggy? Brie fought to swim to her cousin. Light began shining against her closed lids, and she somehow opened her eyes. Instantly, she blinked against the sterile white light of an office or a hospital room.
Tabby held her hand. “Welcome back.”
Brie met her concerned amber eyes. Without her glasses, she couldn’t see farther than her hand, but she didn’t have to see Tabby clearly to know it was her. Her mind remained sluggish, but she knew there was something urgent she had to remember. And suddenly she gripped Tabby’s hand hard in return. “Aidan!” There was total recall now. “Did you find him?” As she spoke, she saw the blur that was Sam, standing next to Tabby. Dear God, her boss was behind them. He was entirely out of focus, but it didn’t matter, she still felt his hard, unwavering stare.
“No, we didn’t.” Tabby slipped her eyeglasses on for her. “Is that better?”
So much fear for him began. Without a doubt, Brie knew that he was being tortured by great evil. He could still be alive and in torment—or he could be dead.
“How do you feel?” Nick asked.
Brie was almost afraid to look at him now that she could see. He was a macho-looking man of about thirty—muscular, tall and really good-looking; women were always trying to pick him up. Nick was a cool player, but he was all work and no play when it came to HCU.
“Am I drugged?” She finally looked at him, and sure enough, he had that steely, take-no-prisoners look in his eyes.
“Pretty heavily, but we’re taking you down so we can chat.” Nick smiled, as if encouraging her to be candid, but that smile never reached his blue eyes.
“It’s been twenty-four hours, Brie,” Tabby said softly, squeezing her hand. Her gaze was filled with worry.
Brie stared at her, almost reading her mind. Now she remembered fighting the pain, in this very room. “He’s still being tortured,” she gasped.
“Every other time we brought you down, within an hour or so you started having extreme empathic reactions to your friend,” Nick said flatly.
Brie blinked at him. He’d stressed the word “friend.” How much had she said? Nick was pissed; she could feel it, even as messed up as she was.
“Maybe you can tell Nick something to help his people find Aidan,” Tabby murmured.
“It’s hard to think,” she whispered. Had Tabby told Nick about the Masters of Time? As groggy as she was, she was certain Nick wouldn’t be surprised that the rumors floating around the agency about a race of evil-fighting warriors were true. Sometimes Nick seemed to know everything.
Nick said to the physician, “Take her down a bit more.”
As the sedation was further decreased, Brie recognized that she was ill with exhaustion. She felt nauseous, and she began to realize how utterly sore her body was. Every muscle throbbed, as if she was the one who’d been mercilessly tortured. But her mind leapt to life as the sedation was reduced. What had they done to him? Was he alive? “How can I help?” she asked Nick, trembling.
He dismissed the doctor and turned to Tabby and Sam. “Goodbye, ladies.”
Tabby was alarmed. “I can’t leave her.”
Nick gestured toward the door. “You can, and you will. It will only be for a few moments.”
Brie didn’t want to be alone with him and she knew Tabby knew it. Sam gave Nick a cool glance. “Don’t bully her,” she said.
When they were gone, he said, “I need you to come clean, kid. If you want to help your friend, you need to clarify exactly who we’re looking for.”
Brie wished she could think more clearly. “His name is Aidan—and he’s not from our century.” She stopped. “He’s from the past, Nick.”
He leaned close, his face expressionless. “When did you meet the Highlander, Brie?”
He was really mad. “I met him a year ago,” Brie breathed, hoping she was doing the right thing by telling Nick the truth. Their eyes locked. “You’re not surprised.”
Nick folded his muscular arms across his chest. “Tell me more about him.”
Brie tried to think clearly. The Brotherhood was secret—Allie had stressed that—but so was CDA and every unit within. “When I met him, he’d come from 1430, from Carrick Castle,” she said. “He has powers, Nick—special powers, just like the demons do.”
Nick searched her gaze and Brie had the uncanny feeling he was searching her mind. He said softly, “Does the name Aidan of Awe ring any bells?”
Oddly, the name resonated with her.
“Take her up,” Nick snapped.
Brie felt the last bit of fogginess dissipate. Nick became completely clear, his eyes blue steel. He knew all about the Masters, she realized.
“Yeah,” he said, “and I’ve wanted to bring one in for a long, long time.”
But he hadn’t even finished when she heard Aidan.
His roar of pain was filled with despair and protest.
This time, it was the roar of grief.
Brie went still.
He’s lost everything. Before she could assimilate that, a huge weight fell on her, crushing her. She cried out in alarm and fear as more stones fell, rapidly burying her in darkness.
Brie wanted to panic and scream; she wanted to fight the rocks, try to push up against them. But instead she lay very still, absolutely calm, aware that she was entombed.
“Brie, what is it?” she heard Tabby cry from far away.
Brie’s eyes widened. She was looking up at black stone; it was as if she was buried alive. She tried to move her arms, her legs, but stone pressed in on her from all sides.
Aidan had been buried alive.
