The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance Katherine Logan (no david read aloud TXT) 📖

worked for The Company long enough that he never took anything for granted. Doing so could get him killed.

After walking about fifty yards to the top of a knoll, he reached a private cemetery surrounded by a wrought iron fence. A large oak tree provided a canopy for the two dozen or so gravesites, and at the center of the cemetery was a monolith.

He chuckled. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’m on MacKlenna Farm.” He’d never been here on foot before, or approached the cemetery from this direction, and he wanted to read the epitaph on the black stone monolith. The gate squeaked when he pushed it ajar, and he stepped around the graves until he reached the stone monument.

THOMAS SEAN MACKLENNA II

He saw what others did not.

He lived what others could not.

He dreamed what others dared not.

JANUARY 25, 1770—JANUARY 25, 1853

Paul walked the perimeter of the cemetery and was struck by how different it was from what he remembered. Then he recognized what was missing—Sean and Mary MacKlenna’s headstones.

No cell reception, no power lines, and missing headstones.

Any minute he expected to hear Rod Serling say, “He will ply his trade at another kind of corner—a strange intersection called The Twilight Zone.”

Maybe he was here now to narrate the events he would witness in this convergence of dimensions? Being in another dimension didn’t freak him out, but it was a situation he’d never encountered.

So how was he going to handle it when he met the MacKlennas? The only way he could. As if he belonged here. After all, the best intelligence agency in the world had trained him to be a chameleon.

He was the computer guy, the eye in the sky. Being on the ground wasn’t quite what he expected, and he had no one talking in his ear and warning him about the dangers ahead, the way he did for the guys in the field.

He closed the gate and headed in the direction of the mansion, reaching the stone fence he and JC had jumped dozens of times while horseback riding. Well, to be honest, JC jumped it. Paul rode around it.

Paul continued walking until he reached a clearing with a Little House on the Prairie log cabin. Where the hell did this come from?

No cell reception. No power lines. Missing headstones. And a previously unknown log cabin.

Now he knew he’d arrived in the fifth dimension.

He approached the cabin cautiously, but before he reached the porch, the door flew open. A man wearing clothes straight out of the Middle Ages strode out and stood on the porch. He had muscles like Arnold Schwarzenegger when he filmed Conan the Barbarian. His brown, hip-length tunic matched his pants gathered at the knees and tucked into knee-high boots tied at the sides with leather thongs.

“Young Paul!” the man bellowed. “Holster your weapon and come here.”

Paul didn’t do either. “How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about you. Now put the gun away and come closer. You are not in danger.”

How does this warrior know my name?

“I will not kill you.”

No, but you might try to beat the shit out of me.

Paul reluctantly holstered his weapon, but he still didn’t trust the man in the tunic, especially since he spoke with such proper diction and no discernible accent.

“Who are you, and how do you know about me?”

“I have known about you…” The warrior paused and then said, “I have been watching you since you went to work for James Cullen.”

Paul trudged toward the man, knowing he was at a disadvantage and could be walking into a trap. The warrior had a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude that convinced Paul he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him or anyone else if it suited him. As Paul got closer, he scanned his surroundings to figure out which way to duck and run if the warrior made an aggressive move.

“You still haven’t told me who you are.”

“I am Erik, and that is all you need to know.”

Paul stepped up onto a covered porch that ran the cabin’s length, noting the tree line was at least fifteen feet from the edge of the porch. If the warrior came after him, he wouldn’t be safe until he reached the other side of the trees. Paul was thirty pounds lighter than the man and probably faster on his feet. Plus, Paul knew the property well enough to get around in the dark. Too bad it was only midafternoon.

“I’ve never seen or heard of you. Where do you come from?”

“That is not important.” Erik lay his hand on Paul’s shoulder, and it felt like a boulder weighing him down, making him feel small and inept. “I’ve brought James Cullen home, and you must go to the mansion at once and bring Dr. Fraser here.”

“Home from where?”

“You would not understand.”

“I’m tired of your riddles. If you have JC, where is he?” Paul sidestepped Erik and reached for the doorknob, but Erik blocked him.

“He is not well, Young Paul. I must talk to his father immediately.”

“Not until I see JC.”

Erik had one massive hand at Paul’s throat before Paul blinked. “Do as I say and do it now!” Erik released his hold. “I do not have time to bargain with you.”

Arguing with Erik was probably a waste of time. “If I hadn’t shown up, you would have gone. Right? So—”

“I knew you were coming,” Erik said briskly.

“How?” The look in Erik’s hooded eyes and the skin bunched around them scared the hell out of Paul.

Erik could have killed him and chose not to, unlike Tavis and David. Paul knew they would try to scare him, but they wouldn’t kill him. This Erik guy was different. “All right. I’m going, but what should I tell Elliott?”

“That Erik needs to talk to him. Now. And one more thing. Elliott, Meredith, Kitherina, and Cullen are all visiting the MacKlennas. Bring only Dr. Fraser and Sean MacKlenna, and do not let the others know of my request.”

“Sean MacKlenna’s dead.”

“Sean is very much alive.”

“How’s that possible? He and his wife died decades ago.”

“Young Paul!” Erik barked.