When he went back to see her, the bed was empty. He found Coira. “She left about half an hour ago. I thought she was going to see you.”
Tavis felt a rush of panic. “Did you see where she went?”
“No. I was on the phone with Tomas.”
Tavis ran to her room and found her packing. “What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“Get your head out of your arse.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Look at Bree and Shay. Their whole lives were a lie. No one knows what Bree is, or Shay. They move like they’re part vampire. Tristol, he’s as evil as hell, but he just helped save you. He’s helped us several times. There’s a lot of gray in the world, not just black and white. We all have issues. We’re all scarred. Get over it. You’re a good warrior, you’re a beautiful woman, and I love you.”
“Even if I’m the daughter of a demon?”
“Even then.”
“Even if that demon destroyed your family?”
“Even then. Who or what your father was doesn’t matter. It’s your heart that makes you human. Makes you a warrior.”
“You’re a bloody good man, Tavis Connor. You’ll make someone a good husband.”
“I’ll make you a good husband.”
“I don’t want a husband.”
“Tell Michael that.”
“What?”
“He sent me to protect you.”
“He did?”
“He showed me your face even before I went into the time vault.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure what to make of it myself. But he knew this was supposed to happen.”
She frowned. “I think you were right about Voltar being your demon. I was supposed to help you. That’s what Michael wanted me to do. He told me that you needed me.”
“He was right about that. I think we were supposed to do it together. Bree said my battle marks say, His brother’s keeper will find his heart, and together they will put the past to rest. And I did find my heart. You. And together we’ll put the past to rest. I’m supposed to be here. Like Faelan is supposed to be here. You’re my mate, and I want to marry you. I don’t care who or what your parents are.”
Anna smiled. “If you’re willing to marry a demon’s daughter, who am I to refuse?” She pulled up the back of her shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Look at my battle marks.”
“They’re different.”
“I know. Coira noticed it when she was checking me over. I have a mate mark.”
“You seem excited. Why were you packing?”
“I was going to invite you to go away with me for a while. Someplace quiet. Private.”
Tavis thought he might burst with happiness. He picked Anna up and swung her around. Life was good. He was in love, and he was having a bairn. “I want to go home. Will you go to Scotland with me?”
“I will.”
“You did tell Ronan you weren’t going to Montana?”
Anna nodded. “He said he’d never planned to actually take me. He knew we’d work it out.”
“He’s wiser than I thought.”
They went to Scotland by jet, which was much better than by ocean. He was still amazed at the advances of civilization. It was wonderful, if a bit frightening. There was something alarming about having computers thinking like human brains.
He and Anna landed at the airport and traveled to Beauly. The land had changed, some for the better, but he missed the way it was. It couldn’t go back. He couldn’t go back. And he didn’t want to. He belonged here with Anna.
Faelan was right. It was meant to be. There had been some suffering. He would always wonder if he could have stopped Voltar sooner and spared the world his atrocities. Just like Faelan and his guilt over the Civil War. Sean had talked to Tavis for a long time. So had Ronan, both telling him that he couldn’t bear the blame for those things. That there were other factors involved, not just Tavis’s part. Tavis had confided to both men about his and Faelan’s dreams of battles they couldn’t have fought. Sean was convinced that Michael’s assignment for both Tavis and Faelan had been intended for this time, and not the past, and that perhaps they hadn’t been sleeping the entire time. It didn’t make sense, but Tavis hoped Sean was right. That lessened some of his guilt. They’d also talked to Anna, convincing her that it didn’t matter who her father was. It still troubled her, and Tavis knew it would.
“Are you sad?” Anna asked.
“No. I’m glad. Very, very glad,” he said, punctuating each “very” with a kiss.
“If you don’t stop that, we’ll have to pull over.”
“All right then.”
Anna smiled and pulled the car onto a small road that was surrounded by fields and sheep. She smiled and ran a hand up his leg. “I’m glad you’re wearing a kilt.”
“Are you now?” he asked as her hand slipped underneath to his thigh.
“Aye, I am. So I can do this,” she said with a wicked grin and moved her hand higher.
“Bollocks.”
“I think that’s about right.”
“And I think if you keep doing that, we’re gonna be late for the wedding.” Far from fearing intimacy, Anna was thriving on it. She was almost wearing him out.
“It’s a good thing I’m wearing a skirt.” There was little talking for the next few minutes, just grunts and gasps. “You’re killing me,” he said when they’d finished.
“Should I stop?”
“No. That would kill me too. I can’t live without you.”
“You’re just saying that because I saved your life in the dungeon.”
“Ha. I would have saved you first if that damned guard hadn’t tortured me. I would have wrapped those cell bars around his cursed neck.”
“I know you would have, but Tristol saved you the trouble.” Anna climbed back over to her side and grabbed a napkin to clean up and adjusted her skirt.
“I do owe you my life,” Tavis said.
“It’ll take a long time to pay me back. I’m thinking seventy or eighty years.”
“I was thinking eternity,” Tavis said. “And I believe you owe me your life too.”
“I can live with that,” Anna said, squeezing his thigh. “Actually, I think we both owe the hybrid,” she said softly. “He saved us.”
“What do you think happened to him?”
He woke in a bed. Not his bed. His bed was in a dungeon, in the darkened back room of a dungeon. This bed was in the sunlight. It was almost blinding. There was a comfortable mattress underneath him and a soft comforter covering him. He was naked. But clean. He could smell the soap on his skin. He didn’t recall bathing. The last thing he remembered was a whirring sound. He could smell something else nice. Like flowers.
“You’re awake.”
He turned toward the window and saw a woman sitting there. It must be her smell that he’d caught. “Who are you?”
“I am Josephine.”
“Do I know you?”
“No. But I know you.”
“From Tristol’s fortress?”
“Yes. I’ve watched you for some time.”
“Do you work there?”
“Perhaps.”
“Where am I?”
“Austria, for the moment. But we can go someplace else if you’d like. France, Italy. Your choice.” Her voice was soft, almost magical.
“I don’t have any money.” He didn’t have anything, not even his sanity.
“You don’t need either. Just say the word.”
“Scotland. I want to go to Scotland.”
Tristol entered the gates of hell with apprehension. He was closer to his goal now than ever before. Even with his missing fortress and lost vampires, he would restart his breeding plan, and in the meantime, strengthen his surviving vampires by letting them feed on warrior blood. He still had Anna’s child to consider, but that was only one child with two warrior parents. It would prove interesting to see if he could train that child to work for him. He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of taking their child. Tristol recalled how his own mother had loved him, how his father had died to save him. He was letting the warriors soften him. He’d watched them so closely he felt he knew them. Respected them. They had more honor and loyalty than his kind.