The man with the knife sneered. “Give us what we want, and nobody gets hurt.”
It was as if she blinked, and all hell broke loose. There was a blur of movement, and suddenly Callan was holding the knife to the mugger’s neck. As she watched, unable to call out, a single bead of blood appeared, followed by more. The other mugger backed away, hands raised, before turning and running, leaving his friend behind.
With a shove, Callan sent the man to his knees with a grunt.
“Go, before I change my mind.” Callan’s voice was cold, the threat clear.
The man ran, calling out to his partner to wait. It wasn’t until their footsteps faded that Daisy swore she could breathe again, legs still weak, as she shook with adrenaline. Frankie nuzzled her hand, whining, body pressed against her legs.
Callan tossed the knife into a dumpster, then turned to her. “’Tis over, lass. Ye are safe.”
The next thing she knew, she was parked in front of her apartment, with no recollection of driving home nor getting into the car. Total autopilot.
He was quiet as he opened the door to the building for her, speaking softly to her as he would a frightened animal. A horn sounded, making her jump, and before she took another breath, she found herself safe in Callan’s arms. He carried her up the stairs to the apartment, Frankie following along, tail wagging, the earlier incident forgotten.
Teeth chattering, she tried to speak, cleared her throat and tried again.
“You stepped right in front of me.”
She tilted her head to look at him.
“Weren’t you worried they’d stab you?”
A low growl escaped. “Nay, lass. They were small men. I wasna worried.”
“You always seem to know what to do,” she said as she collapsed on the sofa, voice filled with wonder. Could it be? The way he fought at the Faire, how his sword and daggers were like a part of his body, and how unafraid he was of those awful men.
Callan lifted one shoulder. “Ye will always be safe with me.”
After what had happened tonight, she had edged over the line towards believing his story, and maybe, just maybe, he really was from the past.
A while later, he brought her a glass of water and a pack of crackers. After she’d eaten a few and drank half the glass of water, Callan cleared his throat.
“I found a dagger in that booth with the dragon banner.”
She kicked her shoes off, tucking her feet under her. “Find any treasure?”
The serious look on his face made her wish she hadn’t asked as he told her about the broken dagger and how it fit into his past.
“I needs travel to Holden Beach in North Carolina to give the dagger to Lady Blackford’s kin. To let them know she is alive and well.”
He stared off into the distance. “The news will bring them comfort. Peace.”
A chill spread through her veins to her heart as she gripped the arm of the sofa.
“Wait. You’re telling me that this Lady Blackford, the wife of your half-brother, is also a time traveler?” She didn’t even bother to keep the skepticism out of her voice. Maybe one time traveler she could consider accepting, but two? No way.
“Aye, she never said, but there were words she used, like ‘phone’ and ‘whatever’, and she talked of the 18thcentury as if it were the past. Once I arrived here, I was certain.” He ran a hand through his hair.
She rolled her eyes. Honestly, it was ridiculous.
Not to mention Daisy couldn’t bear the thought of losing Callan, not after everything they had been through together. She had grown to care for him, and the idea of him leaving her behind, going back to his own time, was almost too much to bear.
As Callan continued to speak of his plans, Daisy’s heart ached with each passing moment.
Frankie, sensing her distress, nudged her hand, tail thumping. She glanced at Callan, his face alight with excitement at the prospect of leaving Boston, her heart heavy.
No matter how much she wanted to tell him how she felt, to ask him to stay with her, the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she pretended to fall asleep.
