She glared at him. “Forbidden? You can’t order me around!”
He sighed. “Maybe no’, because gods know you’ll do whatever the hell you want.” Which he liked about her, actually. “But maybe I can convince you.”
She walked to the kitchen island and leaned against it, crossed her arms over her chest, and gave him a give it your best shot look.
“I doona suppose you know about the plague that swept Edinburgh in 1645?” Horrifying visions of it still haunted him.
“The bubonic plague? Spread by rats and all that?”
“Fleas carried by rats, though we weren’t aware of that at the time. Had a lot of theories about how it was spread, but never the right one.”
The Immortal University might have the power of magic and the supernatural, but science had progressed no more quickly for them than it had for the mortals. Slower, even, since they’d tended to look down upon mortals.
“A reincarnate came into his consciousness right around then,” he said. “First one since I’d joined the university. We knew he’d been of the Beaton clan in his first life. Healers. But we didn’t tell him who he’d been, no’ at first. Even back then it was considered a poor idea to tell a reincarnate about his past. People older and wiser than I knew it. We waited, hoping he would discover his task on his own or experience a catalyzing event. But after two weeks of watching more and more mortals die of the plague, we became convinced that he’d been reborn to heal them. To put an end to it. It made perfect sense at the time. So bloody obvious to us.”
The angry light had begun to fade from her eyes as a hint of understanding crept in. Dread followed. Good. Horror was the only thing that had made him learn.
“I discussed it with his guardian and we decided to tell him our suspicions. He took to it like a fly to trash. And why would he no’? Reborn as a savior to the masses. What’s no’ to like? He strolled right into the worst of Old Town, down into the depths of Mary King’s Close, where the most direly ill were put.”
Her eyes widened as she waited, lips just slightly parted in horrified anticipation.
“Dead a week later.”
She blanched, but he could tell she’d expected it. “Maybe he did help.”
“With what? He had no magic, no antibiotics. Nay, it was meant to run its course without us.”
“Then what was he reborn to do?”
He laughed bitterly. “A couple of months later, a portal was created from an afterworld whose name we’d long forgotten. The university was attacked by demons. Poison arrows took a dozen of our men and women, some of our most powerful Mytheans. Mytheans with potential for the future. But no one recognized the poison, and within twenty-four hours, they were dead. Our reincarnate? He was an herbalist in his new life, a growing science at the time. Mortal, but gifted in his work. He was reborn to heal, aye, but not with skills from his past life.”
Esha tipped her head back and squeezed her eyes tight. “Damn it.”
Frustration surged through his veins as well, every time he thought of that awful year. He wanted to kiss her, to bury that pain and frustration deep inside once more and think only of the feeling of her against him.
Instead, he started counting backward in his head.
“Say I agree with you.” Her words stopped him at sixty-two. “How long would we wait before deciding to tell her?”
“As long as it takes,” he said. “I’ll call her guardian and warn him of this. Immediately. But we won’t interfere. We canna. Can I trust you no’ to jump on this too soon?”
She frowned at him, but eventually nodded. Whether or not he believed her, he wasn’t sure.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The moon was barely peeking through the clouds when the ferry finally docked at the Isle of Mull. Their car had been the only one, for which Cadan was grateful. They saw no living beings as they drove along the empty roads, save for another group of sheep huddled on the pavement to soak up the remaining heat from the day, their eyes reflecting an eerie green in the shine of the car’s headlights.
“We’ve been on Mull for ages. Are we getting close to your house?” They were the first words Diana had spoken in hours.
“Aye. There’s a left turn, about a mile up. My home is at the end of it. No one can see the road unless they know it’s there.” He squinted out of the window. Were there figures in the middle of the road? They looked to be about half a mile ahead, two of them standing in the middle of the pavement, like they were waiting for something.
Waiting for them.
“You do like your privacy, don’t—” She leaned forward to peer out the window at the figures. “What—what are they doing?”
“Waiting for us. Must know where I live, but they canna get past the barriers that protect my house. I’ve got to deal with them or they’ll lurk out here until they get you. And mortals use this road. We canna have demons hanging out on it.”
Her head whipped toward him, face stark. The dark landscape flashed by, barely discernible mountains rolling past like ocean waves. It was too late to slow down and stop far enough from them, so he barreled toward them. They scattered and he pulled to a stop thirty yards ahead.