Page 88 of Treachery in the Highlands
"Let's get you one, then."
She grins.
While we wait in line, I notice her hand keeps drifting to where the book is hidden.The weight of it seems to tug at her, both physically and mentally.I lay my hand over hers, steadying her nervous fingers.
"It's safe," I whisper."For now."
When we reach the counter, the barista---a guy with more piercings than I can count---barely glances at Rachel's medieval attire.This is New York, after all.He probably assumes she's headed to a Renaissance fair or costume party.
"What can I get you guys?"he asks, his gaze flicking briefly to Rachel's cloak before returning to his screen with practiced indifference.
"Two vanilla venti lattes," I say, then glance at Rachel, whose eyes are fixed on the pastry display."And...two chocolate croissants."
Rachel pastes herself to my side as we wait, her fingers still protectively curled around the book beneath her cloak.The café hums with the white noise of modern life---espresso machines hissing, phones chiming, dozens of conversations overlapping.To me, it's the soundtrack of normalcy.To Rachel, it's a symphony of wonders.
"Your world moves so quickly," she says in a hushed tone while watching a businessman juggle his coffee, phone, and briefcase while arguing with someone on his Bluetooth earpiece."Everyone seems to be running from something or to something."
"That's New York, baby."I accept our drinks from the barista, holding them in one hand while using the other to give the guy a nice tip."Everyone's chasing something---dreams, deadlines, dollars.Sometimes all three at once."
Rachel takes her first sip of latte, and her eyes widen in delight."Bod an Donais!This is..."
Damn, she's adorable.I want to hug her, and fuck her, right now.But I don't care to get arrested.
Rachel searches for the right word, biting her lip while her eyes light up."Magical.That's the word.But 'tis not like my magic.It's different."
"The magic of caffeine and sugar," I laugh, guiding her to a small table in the corner where we can keep our backs to the wall and our eyes on the door.Old habits die hard, even when you're thousands of miles---and several centuries---from the Scottish Highlands.
Rachel takes another sip, then leans forward conspiratorially."The book is...restless," she whispers, her hand still pressed against her side."I can feel it pulsing, like a heartbeat growing stronger.It wants us to return to the Highlands."
"Guess we better find a private place where you can decipher the magics."I lift her hand to my lips."I'm ready to go home, Rach."
"So am I,mo chridhe.But I'm grateful I was able to experience a wee bit of your world."
I shake my head."This isn't my world anymore.My life with you and your family, that's where I belong now."
Chapter Thirty-Four
Rachel
Though I cannae wait to go home, to my own time, I convince Joey to show me one last thing---his favorite place in all of New York City.The noise and the crush of people unsettle me.Still, I want to learn a wee bit more about Joey's past before I close the portal that brought us here and that should never have existed in the first place.
We've just left the cafe behind.
"My favorite place?"he says."I know exactly where to take you."
I follow him through the maze of streets, flinching at the blaring horns and screeching brakes.The buildings tower overhead like mountains of glass and steel, reflecting the afternoon sun in blinding flashes.'Tis a wonder anyone can breathe here.
"Almost there," Joey says, taking my hand.His touch is warm and reassuring."You doing okay, Rachel?"
"Oh, aye.Just a wee bit...overwhelmed."
He chuckles."That's New York for you.Even those of us who grew up here feel that way sometimes."
"Ye move like water through these throngs," I observe, clutching my cloak more securely.
"Years of practice, Rachel," he replies with that crooked smile, the one that still makes my heart flutter every time I see it."When you grow up dodging foster parents and truancy officers, you learn to navigate crowds."
We board something called a "subway," a sinuous metal beast that roars beneath the city.The way these people trust such contraptions without a second thought!Joey stands protectively close as the carriage sways and rattles, his arm around my waist.I try not to show my anxiety as we're hurtled through darkness at speeds no horse could match.
