“Don’t worry yourself.” Faelan patted Bree’s shoulder.

“Worry.” Bree’s face was flushed with anger. “I’m going to kill the bastards.”

Bollocks. She was just like Anna. Were all women like this now?

“You won’t touch Tristol or Voltar. I forbid it.” Faelan’s scowl was fierce, but it didn’t seem to affect his wife.

“I don’t think Voltar was involved in the um…breeding plan. He said he’d been waiting for me, and he wanted me dead. Tristol is the one who kept calling me Faelan.”

“He’s not getting his hands on either of you,” Bree said to her husband.

“Did he figure out that you’re not Faelan?” Ronan asked.

“I don’t know. A blond man—a vampire, Anna said—he came in and saw me, said I wasn’t you, and ordered Tristol’s servant not to tell Tristol because he’d make all their lives hell.”

“A blond vampire.” Ronan’s voice was hard. “I think I know him.”

“Aye. Anna said she thought he was the one you were after.”

“He escaped,” Ronan said. “We had him in Scotland.”

Bree clasped her hand over her mouth. “Do you think Tristol was planning to use Anna too? She’s beautiful and strong. If they’re trying to breed…” She didn’t finish.

Tavis remembered Anna underneath him on the dungeon floor, her body soft but stiff, her fear as he fought to hold back his own pleasure. “I don’t know, but they took her away once. I think they…” He stopped. Revealing what he feared had happened to Anna felt like betraying her trust. She hadn’t even told him what had happened. She likely wouldn’t appreciate him talking about it.

“You think they what?” Faelan asked.

“I think they gave her to the hybrid.”

“Anna?” Ronan said. “God no.”

“At least she’s alive,” Sorcha said.

“She probably wishes she wasn’t,” Ronan said. “Her mother was raped. She kept the baby and then years later she killed herself.”

“Anna.” Bree made a soft sound of distress. “She was the baby.”

“She doesn’t talk about it much, but her childhood wasn’t good. I think her mother tried, but she never got past the fact that Anna was the product of rape.”

“No wonder she’s dead set against marriage and having a family,” Sorcha said. “I would be too.”

Ronan ran a finger over the collapsed sword at his side. “It didn’t help that Anna had a few bad experiences herself. Her mentor tried to abuse her.”

“Her mentor? Poor Anna. I hope someone killed the bastard,” Bree said.

Ronan shrugged. “Anna did.”

“She killed her mentor?” Brodie said. “Blimey.”

“I guess you’ll stop teasing her now,” Tomas said.

Tavis felt sick. My God, what had he done? Maybe Anna wasn’t coming back because she didn’t want to see him again. He heard Bree speaking over the rushing noise in his head.

“I think Tavis needs to rest,” Bree said.

“I need to wash up.” He’d cleaned off as best he could in the dungeon, but he needed a proper washing. And now he needed some privacy so he could decide what to do about the awful thing he’d done.

“He can use the jetted tub,” Bree said. “I’ll get it started.”

“You’ll enjoy this,” Faelan said. “We have bathrooms now, fancy things, far better than a privy or a water closet. Smell better too. They have big tubs with hot water coming out holes in the sides. Works wonders on sore muscles.”

“I used one at the house where Angus took me.” Almost everyone left, and Faelan and Duncan helped Tavis into the bathroom. It was a sight indeed, even better than the one he’d used before. Marble everywhere. A large tub was bubbling as steam rose from the water.

“Don’t stay in too long,” Bree said. “You don’t want to pass out and drown.” This made her blush, and Tavis thought again how bonny she was. Until Anna, he hadn’t been with a truly beautiful woman. Marna had been pleasant, but no beauty. And there’d only been the one time. Her coaxing had worn him down, and they’d lain together right there in the hay. That had been over a hundred and fifty years ago. No wonder he couldn’t stop thinking about sex.

“I’ll keep a check on him,” Faelan said.

Faelan sat on the edge of the big tub as Tavis slipped into the water. “Very nice,” Tavis said.

Faelan was quiet, and Tavis saw he was looking at his back. “I’ll kill him for this,” Faelan said. The look on his face was fierce, reminding Tavis that Faelan wasn’t just his brother. He was the Mighty Faelan.

“The guard’s the one who did it,” Tavis said. “He’s probably dead. Tristol was angry with him. If he didn’t kill him, I’m sure Voltar did. I don’t think he intended to leave anyone in that fortress alive.” Was he after Anna now?

“Is there something between you and Anna?” Faelan asked, as if he’d read Tavis’s thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been over a century, but I know you, brother. You get a strange look on your face every time her name is mentioned.”

“She’s a bonny woman.”

“You don’t like bonny women.”

“I’ve never met one as bonny as her.”

“That doesn’t explain the guilt.”

Tavis looked down at the bubbling water and hung his head. “I took her.”

“Took her where?”

“Took her. You know. Had my way with her?”

Faelan’s jaw dropped. “You raped her?”

Tavis cringed at the word. “The guard made us.”

“He forced you to…”

Tavis nodded and rubbed his hand over his battle marks, which were tingling. “He said he’d do it if I didn’t, and then he’d kill us both. I didn’t want to, but she told me to. I tried to pretend, but the guard caught on. I had to do it.” The shame burned his face.

“Damnation. But it wasn’t rape if she told you to do it.”

“But I didn’t have to enjoy it.” Tavis rubbed his face. “She was scared. Now I know why, after hearing Ronan’s story.”

“Ah, brother.” Faelan put a hand on Tavis’s arm.

“Now you know why I have to find her. I owe her a debt. I have to protect her.”

“Anna might not want to be protected. She’s strong.”

“Aye. I’ve never seen anything like her. She fought like a man.” But she wasn’t a man. She was a woman, and he owed her not just a debt, he owed her his life. “But I swore to myself that I would make this right.”

“We’ll find her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to be found?”

“You think she’s staying away on purpose?”

“She must hate me.”

“She put you in the crypt so Voltar wouldn’t get you. That doesn’t sound like hate to me.” Faelan ruffled Tavis’s hair like he had when they were young. “I’ll do anything I can to help you. I’ve learned a bit about the women of this time. I don’t like it, but it does have some benefits. In the bedroom they’re…sorry.”

“It’s good to see that you still put your foot in your mouth,” Tavis said, punching Faelan’s leg.

“Don’t forget, you’re still my little brother.” Faelan lifted his hand to punch Tavis in return, but he looked at Tavis’s wounds and he stopped. “When you’re done, will you show me Da’s grave?”

“Aye, I will.”

“I want to know everything that happened. I’m going to check in with Lachlan and Marcas. Don’t fall asleep and drown. Bree will kill me if you do.”

Tavis scrubbed himself, and then, wearing the robe Faelan had given him, he went back to the bedroom. He looked around for his kilt and shirt, but they were gone. There were some clothes lying on a chair near the bed. A tight, black thing that reached mid-thigh. It must have been an undergarment. Was this what men wore now? Underneath those, lying on the chair, he found breeches and a shirt without buttons, like the other men had worn.

He put them on and left the room. He wanted a few moments alone before he took Faelan to the grave. He opened the door and slipped outside. After being locked in a dungeon for so many days, the daylight seemed unfamiliar. He stood for a moment trying to reacquaint himself with freedom. He was alive. Faelan was alive. He had to find Anna, and then he could grieve for what he’d lost. But as he stood there looking at the place, memories rushed at him as fresh as if they’d happened yesterday. The horror of finding Faelan’s time vault. The heartbreaking task of burying him in the crypt. Finding their father and Quinn slaughtered. Another heartbreak on top of the first. Ian crying as he closed Tavis’s time vault. Now here he was, what felt like a moment later, reunited with his brother, who wasn’t injured but alive and well. Married to a bonny woman. His assigned demon dead.

Hell, Faelan hadn’t needed him after all. Tavis had walked away from his assignment for nothing. Not for nothing. Michael might be upset with him, but Tavis had protected the Book of Battles as he’d sworn. The book. He couldn’t remember where he’d hidden it. Those first hours were only a blur.

Perhaps he’d hidden it in the chapel. Leaves crunched under his feet as he walked. The air was cool. Not as cold as it was in Tristol’s fortress, but crisp. It must be November. It was shocking to see how the chapel had changed. The pews were crumbling. In fact, the whole place was. He hurried up front to the secret door. It was open now, with stones scattered on the floor. It appeared to have been sealed at some time. Tavis’s throat tightened as he walked down the rough steps into the darkness of the cellar. He remembered his own fear, and Ian’s, his brother pleading that there must be another way.

The time vault was still there in the corner, where he’d summoned it over a century ago. He remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. If he could just remember where he’d hidden the Book of Battles. He put his hands on top of the time vault and closed his eyes. Slowly, he let the memories in.