Angus spit on the length of shirt wrapped around his hand then scrubbed harder across a bright yellow splat covering his forearm. “Even spit doesna work. What the hell is this dye made of?” He wrestled his hand free and yanked his shirt back in place with a shrug. “Mother Sinclair told us too much. She had me poor head aching with all her nattering.”
The man had a point.Graham wouldn’t argue the truth of that statement but he wasn’t fool enough to say so aloud. The old she-devil could damn well be listening somehow.He cut off another chunk of cheese, bit into the waxy, pungent bite, and pondered as he chewed. There was not a doubt in his mind where Lilia got her fire.
Lilia.His soul exhaled a relieved sigh at the thought of her. Never in his life had he ever hoped to meet such a woman as Lilia. Now here he was, blessed by the Fates and Mother Sinclair herself with a match to the incomparable lass. They had to take the oath. Soon. His soul wouldn’t rest until he was properly tied to his lady love for all eternity.
Vivienne burst through the swinging kitchen door, one hand holding aloft one of the strange metal squares—one of thephonethings. “I just got a text from Lilia.” She came up short behind Angus, a grimace of distaste puckering her face as she quickly sidestepped away from him. “Phew,love! Ye stink like shit.”
A look of shock widened Angus’s eyes. He jumped up from the chair and hurriedly edged toward the back staircase. “Forgive me, lass. I was too weary to wash last night. I was just about to shower when Graham begged me to sit with him a bit and advise him.”
“Ye are a lying bastard.” Graham folded his arms across his chest, leaned back in the chair, and nodded to Vivienne. “What were ye saying about my Lilia?”
Vivienne’s brightly stained red lips tightened into a flat worried line as she glanced back down at the square of black and silver in her hand. “She says I’m to bring ye to hospital. She says she needs ye.” Tears glistened in Vivienne’s eyes as she worried her fingers through her spiked red hair. “Mistress Eliza must be worse.” She hurriedly clicked across the room in her spike heels, pinched free a paper napkin from the stack, and pressed it to the inside corners of her eyes. Waving Graham forward, she hurried to the door leading to the garage. “Come on, ducks. Time’s a’wasting.”
A sense of dread and urgency launched Graham out of the chair and across the room. His poor dear lass. He had to get to her. Fast.“Get me there. Now.”
Angus started toward Vivienne then tucked his face close to his armpit and hitched in a loud sniff. He wiggled his nose and ducked his head. “I best stay here and have a wee scrub.”
“Ye think?” Vivienne rolled her eyes then waved for Graham to hurry. “Come on, love.” She hurried them both down the steps, through the garage, and out the rear door leading to the street. She paused once they reached the sidewalk and glanced back at Graham with a worried glance. “I’m not sure how we’ll be fitting ye in my wee Audi. But we’ve got to find a way.”
“I’ll ride on top of the damn thing if I must.” Graham hurried to the passenger side of the bright red bit of curiosity that looked like it was made for a child rather than a full-grown man. He bent down, yanked open the door, and peered inside.
Vivienne pushed past him, bending down to grab hold of a black handle. She lifted it up and shoved the tiny seat as far back as it would go. “There. Now ye’ll have a wee bit more room.” She scurried around to her side of the car and hopped inside. “Come on, ducks. I’ve not got a good feeling about that message.”
Graham backed his arse into the tiny vehicle, whacked the back of his head on the doorframe, then shoved himself into the seat. He curled forward, scrubbing the back of his skull as he folded in his long legs. Knees nearly up to his chin, he sat hunched forward, one arm wrapped around his bent legs. A grunt squeezed free as he stretched sideways, hooked the door handle with a finger and pulled it shut.
“I don’t think it’s closed properly.” Vivienne tapped on a glowing glyph on the panel in front of the tiny leather steering wheel. She gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, lovie. See the little door that’s lit up a bright red? That means ye’ve got to give it another go.”
“Surely ye jest.” Graham grunted and huffed as he squirmed around to better fit in the tiny space.
“Sorry.” Vivienne tilted her head and tapped on the glowing board again.
“Never in all my days did I ever dream I would be trapped inside a metal box by choice.” He wormed his hand down beside his right leg, found the handle, opened the door then yanked it shut again. Hard.
“That’s it, lovie! Light’s out now.”
The vehicle roared to life. Graham squinted his eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath. He refused to get ill. This was no time for weakness. His precious Lilia needed him.
They picked up speed and careened around what seemed like an endless stretch of sharp turns and curves, his body swaying from side to side with every turn. His stomach gurgled and lurched. He tightened his gut and swallowed hard. Lore a’mighty. This woman would surely kill them both.Vomiting became the least of his worries.
“I’ll have ye there in no time flat.”
“Just have me there in one piece,” he said through clenched teeth without opening his eyes.
The humming beast squealed and growled as they swerved and bounced through another set of turns, then came to a screeching halt with a hard jolt.
“Open yer eyes, my brave beastie. We have arrived.”
Graham risked cracking open an eye and looked around. Aye—he know this place. ’Twas the cave Lilia had called the parking garage attached to the building where Mistress Eliza waited for death. “Thank the gods.” He shoved open the door, whacked his forehead against the frame, then rolled out to the ground beside the infernal contraption. “Sons a bitches!”
“Lore a’mighty, lovie. Now the front of yer nogging has a knot to match the one in the back.” Vivienne grabbed his arm and helped him stand. She frowned as she shoved a hand into the pocket of her jeans. “I just got another text. Pray we’re not too late.”
Graham didn’t wait to hear what the wee contraption reported. To hell with texts. Lilia needed him. Now.Ignoring Vivienne’s shout to wait, he loped through the maze of metallic beasts, found the magical sliding doors, and pushed his way through them before they’d fully opened. The metal doors with the buttons. Where the devil were the double metal doors?
He careened down a vaguely familiar hall of gleaming white tiles and metal plaques bolted into the walls. There. The metal doors. The silver portals with glowing buttons and arrows. Several people stood in front of his target.
“Begging yer pardon.” Graham eased through the small group and bounced his fist against the button with the up arrow. ’Twas already lit. He scowled down at the button with the down arrow. The down arrow was lit too. What the hell did that mean? He needed to go up. Aye. Up seven levels.He clearly remembered Lilia saying she would hit the seven button when last they visited Mistress Eliza.
A sharp ding sounded and the metallic doors finally whooshed open. Graham plowed inside, growing more frustrated by the second as more and more people crowded into the wee box with him and jostled him to the back. What the devil did they play at? He would never get to the panel of buttons with this many folk stuffed around him. “I must get to the panel. Begging yer pardon. I have to push the seven button.”
