“Whatever. Why are we leaving?” she asked. “Shouldn’t I stay here to discover who I was in my past life?”
He glanced at her. She moved gracefully even as she hurried to match his longer strides. The sight of her, fresh from her shower with a thin sweater clinging to still-damp skin, confirmed that she was shaped like a woman from his fantasies. She was smaller than he liked, true, but she made his hands itch to touch her again. Returning to Arthur’s Seat for her bag had been worth it just to see her in that sweater. He’d wanted her to have her own things, something to comfort her, but the sight of her now reminded him of last night. There, in the shadow of the mountain with the moon hidden by clouds, she’d felt like a goddess beneath him.
“Well?” Diana’s voice pulled him out of the memory. “Shouldn’t I be here if I want to learn about my past?”
Gods, he needed to get his mind back on the here and now. “So, you agree that this isn’t all a giant hoax?”
“Like you said, I have to accept this. I’m not an idiot, and I don’t have many other options, do I? I want to know why monsters are stalking me, why this tattoo has appeared, and why I’ve been having the same dreams my entire life.” There was frustration in her voice, but also something more he couldn’t identify.
“Dreams?” He hoped his dread wasn’t evident in his voice. How much was she remembering?
“Yes. It all makes a terrible kind of sense. I’ve had these dreams forever, and they’ve always made me a step shy of crazy, especially during my childhood. It’s like I know myself, but something is missing. Like I’m living a second, horrible life when I’m asleep.” She shook her head. “God, it’s hard to explain.” She hesitated before speaking further, as if unsure she wanted to tell him. “I’m dying. It’s cold and dark.” She shuddered. “Damp.”
His arms ached to wrap around her, to protect her. The way he hadn’t so many centuries ago.
“I’m in the arms of the man I love, but he’s betrayed me. I don’t know why or how, but I think that’s the key.”
Betrayed her? His jaw tightened. Her soul was still angry after two thousand years? But the love she’d spoken of hadn’t been past tense. “In the dream, do you still love him?”
“I don’t know. It was complicated. But if I did, he’s long dead, isn’t he? My dreams take place more than a thousand years ago, at least. If we’re leaving Edinburgh, how am I supposed figure all this out? Are we going to another university, one with a library? Other scholars?”
They passed through the grand front doors of the building and stepped out into the muted sunlight filtering through heavy gray rainclouds. The cobblestones of the courtyard gleamed dully, a sheen of rainwater darkening them. It was unnaturally silent, with only rustling oak leaves breaking the silence. The smell of wet leaves and grass gave the morning an earthy scent that always reminded him of the calm before a battle.
“Nay, we’re going to my home. It’s known only by a few. Anyone tracking you won’t be able to find you.” And he could keep her from figuring out what her task was so that he could accomplish it for her. The sight of her this morning had only confirmed that she didn’t have a chance of surviving it.
He opened the passenger door of his car for her and she slipped gracefully inside. His gaze followed her. He needed a bigger car. She’d be sitting far too close.
He skirted around the front of the car and slid in under her watchful gaze, then turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred to life. It was far more powerful than the body of the subtle sedan suggested it would be. After centuries of living without modern conveniences, he appreciated them all the more. Particularly cars. Traveling by horseback was too slow. He might have saved Boudica had he been able to move more quickly than his horse allowed. But then they would both be dust by now.
They passed through the elaborate gates of the Immortal University and headed north.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “We can stop at a café on the outskirts of town if you want breakfast.”
“No. Food is the last thing on my mind right now.”
“Aye, all right.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes until she asked, “If we go to your house, how am I going to figure this out? I need to start researching. Do you have the resources that I’ll need?”
“Like what?”
“Books, of course.”
Books, right. Those must be the resources she’d mentioned, but he was having a hard time paying attention to her words when she was so close to him. From the exasperation in her voice, she was noticing.
“How am I supposed to learn about history without books?”
“Ah. Such a scholarly lassie.”
She arched a brow. “Well, I am a professor.”
“Aren’t you a bit young to be a professor?” He looked sideways at her, skepticism plain on his face.