Highland Protector (MacCoinnich Time Travels Book Five) (7 page)

****

At least there’s a gate around the
main house.
Kincaid
couldn’t believe the lack of security for the Manor. He felt no magical wards
protecting the house, the property.
How can this be?

Simon pressed a button and killed the
engine.

Kincaid stepped from the car and
stared up at the familiar fortress. The landscape had changed, and the house
itself wasn’t as large as in his time. Yet it still felt like home.

The front door of the home hit the
wall and a petite woman ran down the stairs, ignoring him, and franticly
screamed at Simon.

Tears ran down her face as Simon
caught her. “What is it, lass?”

“It’s Amber. She collapsed. I can’t
wake her, Simon…I can’t wake her.”

Simon ran toward the house, Kincaid
followed. His stomach turned stone-cold. Were they too late? The walls of the
home shot past him as he took the stairs three at a time, keeping pace with
MacCoinnich. They spiraled up, turned down a hall, and ended up at his bedroom
door. Or it was his bedroom in the future.

Simon skidded to a halt and entered
the room at a slower pace.

Kincaid took in the scene slowly. An
old woman sat in a chair on the opposite side of the bed from where Simon
knelt. The woman who’d informed Simon of Amber’s state hugged the banister of
the bed and cried. The only familiar face in the room was Giles. Kincaid met
his eyes and he nodded to the woman lying on the bed.

Dressed in a nightgown he’d only seen
several hundred years back in time, Amber MacCoinnich had the complexion of
Sleeping Beauty and a slow pace of breathing that couldn’t sustain her for much
longer. The long dark hair framed her head and fell past her waist. Even under
the sunken eyes and drawn features, her beauty was unmatchable.

Simon touched the side of her
forehead, which had a trickling of blood. “What happened?” he asked.

“I heard a noise and ran in. She was
in the bathroom on the floor.”

Simon lifted her thin hand and placed
his lips to the back of it. “Don’t leave us, Amber. We’ll find a cure.”

Kincaid wasn’t sure they could find a
cure fast enough. For some reason, the thought of this woman dying before he
could see the color of her eyes made him ill. He nodded toward Giles and
indicated the hall.

Giles stepped around the woman at the
foot of the bed and started toward the door.

“You’re not going anywhere, Kincaid,”
Simon demanded.

MacCoinnich didn’t need to spend
these last hours with his family worrying about him. Kincaid said the only
thing he could to put the man at ease. “I will see this through, Simon. You
have my word.”

Content with that, Simon turned back
to the bed.

“Am I glad to see you,” Giles said
once they were out of earshot of the others.

“What do you know?” Kincaid asked.

“Is that the woman from the
portrait?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s safe to say something
forced me here to find her. They’re desperate to save her life.”

“I can see that.”

“Do you know who she is?”

Kincaid tasted her name on his lips
again. “Amber MacCoinnich. Youngest daughter of Ian and Lora.”

Giles lowered his voice. “All the
books say she died young. We might just be witnessing her death.”

That didn’t feel right. “Or we’re
here to help find a cure.”

“I’ve looked, Kincaid. There isn’t a
way to remove her gift. It’s part of her.” Giles swiped his glasses from his
face and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then I’ll go home, gather a healer,
and bring them back to buy us time.”

“That won’t work. Her brother Cian is
a healer. More powerful than any you and I have seen, and he wasn’t able to
help. The only thing that has brought her any solace is the cloak the family
charmed for her. It acts as a buffer but according to Helen, it’s growing
weaker.”

“A cloak is her shield?”

“A filter really. Mutes but doesn’t
stop everything from penetrating completely.”

He blinked several times, feeling the
answer…or at least a temporary reprieve… was close.

“What are you thinking?” Giles asked.

Every Druid had some ability to read
the intentions of others. Though to be honest, Kincaid had never worked hard to
peer into others’ minds. To do so would mean he’d have to open himself, lower
his shield, and allow someone in.

He said nothing and stared at the
door leading to his room. The wooden barrier was easily breached…a swift kick
and someone could walk right in.

“I hate that I can’t see a thing
inside your head, Kincaid. Something is working for you,” Giles said.

He stepped back over the threshold
and motioned for Simon to follow.

“I have an idea,” he said when they
moved to the second floor landing.

“What?” Simon asked.

Instead of answering, Kincaid decided
to demonstrate. “What is Giles thinking about?”

Simon stared at Giles. “He’s worried,
as we all are.”

“No. What’s he
really
thinking?”

Simon winced and closed his eyes.
“That her death is inevitable.”

Right.
“Now, what am I thinking?”

This time Simon stared with thinly
veiled hatred sparking from his eyes. “Nothing. I…what’s the point, Kincaid?
Amber is dying. We don’t have time for games.”

Kincaid lowered his shield and
stepped closer to the man. He expanded his shield and surrounded the other
warrior. “Now, what am I thinking?”

His right eye twitched as Simon
peered close and tickled the edges of Kincaid’s brain. “You can shield her.”

“I can try. The fix will be temporary
and I have to be close to her. But maybe it will give Giles time to find a
cure.”

The twitch in his brain expanded as
Simon searched for more answers. Not liking the sensation, Kincaid narrowed his
shield and shut the man out.

“What are the risks?”

“For Amber? Nothing worse than her
immediate death if it doesn’t work.”

Funny how Simon didn’t bother asking
what the risk to him was. There wasn’t any guarantee the noise inside Amber’s
head wouldn’t transfer to him, destroying them both.

Chapter Eight

Simon consoled his wife while Kincaid
moved around to the far side of the bed. He removed the sword strapped to his
back and set it beside the table.

“What’s he doing?” Helen asked.

“Trying to help.”

A fish swimming in a round bowl would
have had nothing on all the eyes in the room watching him.

He eased his frame to the edge of the
bed and felt his weight dip into the mattress. The closer he moved to Amber,
the higher his heart rate soared. In times of flight, he’d expand his shield
and suck travelers with him into a vortex of time. This was different.

The tight grip on his shield loosened
in small degrees. Not because he feared what would happen to him, but his fear of
what it might do to her.

Okay Amber MacCoinnich…I’m going to
invade your space for a little while.
He sighed and expanded the shield again. If he looked hard
enough, he could see a shimmering blue light expand from his body and pulsate
out as he moved the barrier between him and the world. As the tip of Amber’s
finger breached his circle, he felt a tug and noticed the blue rim grip hold of
her hand and pull. A small tremor of fear surged over him when he tried to pull
back his shield just to see if he could, only to find it unyielding.

Kincaid concentrated on her hand,
thought he saw one of her fingers twitch. He placed a hand next to hers and she
moved again.

Energy rushed over him and the light
of his shield sparked.

Everyone in the room gasped.

When Kincaid let go, the shield he
liked to call his own, poured over Amber and molded itself to her frame. It
hugged her like a robe, nothing like Kincaid had ever seen before.

Amber’s chest rose and fell in a
heavy sigh. When her finger lifted, Kincaid reached out and touched her. The
molded shield expanded with his touch and bubbled them both inside.

His heart gave a massive kick in his
chest as the unconscious emotions of the woman at his side slid into him. He
released an unmanly moan as his head filled with pain. Her pain. Bracing a hand
to her side to keep from crushing her, he closed his eyes and attempted to
absorb the impact, deflect it…survive it.

His eyeballs were on fire and the
flesh on his bones felt as if someone was dripping acid and eating away all
rational thought.

How did she survive this?

“Kincaid?” Dread filled Giles’s
voice.

He shook his head. “I’m—” he
swallowed down bile, felt a wave pass only to return.

“What’s happening?”

Inside Amber’s head, he heard her
respond to the distress of Helen’s voice.

“Shh!”

“Is she okay?” Helen franticly asked.

His gut rolled as if he’d been hit
with a spiked medieval hammer.

“For God’s sake, woman, shut up,”
Kincaid ordered.

As those in the room held their
collective breath. The pain slowly eased. He tightened the shield around them
and attempted to thicken the barrier. The slow process left him breathless with
sweat pooling on his brow.

He opened his eyes and noticed
Amber’s hand tighten around his. She hadn’t woken, but he could feel her. Her
soft breath washed over his skin with every exhale, her heart stopped its
uneven rhythm and found a comfortable pace.

When Kincaid looked to the others in
the room, he noted that the sun had started to set, casting long shadows in the
room.

“She’s resting now,” he told them.

“Is she okay?” Helen asked.

He felt a kick in his head. It was as
if the words triggered something inside of Amber and made her panic.

“She is for now. She needs to rest
and heal. Maybe by morning I’ll be able to let go of her hand.”

Giles offered a small smile. “How do
you
feel?”

“Better than ever,” he lied.

Giles shook his head. “I’ll return to
the library. Can I get you anything?”

The old woman pulled herself to her
feet and spoke for the first time. “Come, Helen…let’s prepare something to eat
for our guest. Have something here for Amber when she wakes.”

The woman’s soothing voice brought a
blanket over Amber and filled Kincaid with warmth.

Kincaid offered the woman a smile and
was greeted with one in return. He realized then he didn’t know her name.

As if she read his mind she said, “I’m
Mrs. Dawson.”

That would make sense, as the Manor
was named after the original owner. “A pleasure.”

Mrs. Dawson limped from the room with
the use of a cane and followed Helen out.

Simon stood to follow the others. He
hesitated at the door and stared down at the both of them. “Let me know when
she wakes.”

“I will.”

“The pain inside her…was it…”

Kincaid shook his head. “I don’t know
how she survived it.”

Simon swallowed. “I’m one floor
down.”

“I’ll call out if we need you.”

He gave a swift nod and closed the
door behind him.

Alone with Amber, he stared at her
porcelain features and felt a smile on his lips. “You look better in person,”
he whispered.
Even close to death.

He moved slowly, arranging her hand
on his leg while he attempted to pull his fingers from hers. It didn’t work. He
lifted one booted foot to their joined hands and tugged it off, kicking it to
the floor before reaching for the other. Once he managed to take off his boots,
he stood while holding her hand and removed the weapon on his hip, set it on
the nightstand.

Having a beautiful woman beside him
in bed was never a hardship, but an unconscious one he couldn’t let go of
proved more awkward than any encounter he’d ever had.

As he moved around the bed, he felt
her anxiety rise. It was as if she worried he would leave and the full force of
the pain would return. Kincaid maneuvered himself with his back against the
headboard. The bed wasn’t large enough for him to lay there and not touch more
than her hand. Their clasped hands had two choices. They could lay on his thigh
or her chest.

He rested them against her first,
felt the swell of her breast, and groaned.

Not a good choice.

He rested their hands on his thigh.
That was marginally better.

“Well, Amber MacCoinnich…when you
wake up try not to freak out too hard.” He looked down at her innocent face.
“Something tells me you’ve never had a man in your bed.”

The thought made him smile and inch
closer. He would reflect on why the thought empowered him later, for now he’d
just try to thicken the barrier around them and sift through the jumbled pain
inside her head and rid her of it.

After an hour inside her head, he
felt the emotions of those closest to them swimming on a thin surface, but
those from outside the walls of the house were gone. The blue barrier around
them was so thick he doubted a bolt of lightning could penetrate it.

At some point, Helen slipped into the
room and set a tray of food by the bed. Kincaid felt her concern and he did his
best to shield the emotions from the sleeping woman on his side. Before Helen
could say a thing, he brought a finger to his lips. “Shh.”

Helen blinked a few times and quietly
left the room.

He clicked off the light and slid
down in the bed. He rolled to his side and switched hands. He rested his arm
over Amber’s waist, realizing again how thin she was. Too thin.

Kincaid closed his eyes on the pillow
beside her and felt her push against him to get closer.

He continued to sift through her
thoughts until his brain reached its own limit and needed to rest.

Somewhere in the night, he woke long
enough to realize Amber shifted in her sleep. She had his arm grasped to her
side and had rolled over, offering him her backside.

Without a doubt, when she woke and
realized she was spooning with a stranger, she’d freak. But right now, Kincaid
didn’t care. He ignored his rising hormones, calling himself all kinds of names
for being turned on by a woman who was near-death, and he forced himself to go
back to sleep.

****

If Amber knew death would be this
warm, this welcoming, she would have let herself go long before now.

The cloud she floated on surrounded
her, blocked out all the pain, and left her strangely hungry. Even that was a
welcome relief. She’d not felt the need to eat in so long she’d forgotten the
feeling. Sleep overshadowed everything, however. The ability to rest without
interruption was heaven. Maybe that’s what her reward was for such a burdened
life. Sleep and hunger, the things she couldn’t enjoy in her failing body.

Her last thought before leaving her
body was that she died before returning home. Without the crushing pain
clouding her thoughts, she was thankful her time came before plaguing her
family with her death. This way they might think she lived a good long life.

She snuggled into her cloud and
drifted off to sleep again.

Then her stomach rumbled, loud and
unrelenting.

The cloud moved behind her and
grasped her hip.

That can’t be right.

Amber forced her eyes open, fearful
the pain would return. Her room was before her just as it had been when she was
alive. The sun reached its morning rays into her room and asked her to wake.

The unfamiliar feeling of being alone
made her close her eyes again. The pain in her head wasn’t there. The voices of
others…gone. A deep voice, one she’d never heard before, chanted one word.
Sleep.

Her head started to follow the soft
chant and then the bed dipped behind her.

Amber’s eyes sprung open, and she
slowly turned her head.

Behind her…no, pressed up against her
with his arm draped over her clasping her tightly was a dark stranger.

Oh, God.
Panic, always close to the surface,
bubbled inside her.

The stranger opened his eyes, his
piercing gaze met hers, and Amber screamed.

She scrambled to the other side of
the bed only to find herself trapped by the large man’s iron-grip.

“Calm down.”

She kicked, yelled, and pushed
against him as he pinned her to the bed, his body unwilling to let her go.
Amber pulled in the energy of the room and added heat to her hands as she
shoved.

The man cursed and clasped her hands
to prevent her from burning more of his skin. “Dammit, Amber hold still.”

The door to the room flew open. Amber
twisted on the bed, saw Simon, and yelled for him to help her.

“What’s going on?” Simon asked but
made no effort to remove the man who crushed her to the bed.

“She woke up.”

Amber attempted more kicks, found her
legs pinned beneath her captor. “Get him off me,” she pleaded with Simon. Why
was he not helping her? Her foot connected with the man’s shin.

He rolled on top of her, full on now
and pinned her hands above her head. “Enough!” he yelled at her.

Stunned, she stopped moving. No
one…and she meant no one, ever yelled at her.

Her chest rose and fell with his.
They both panted and stared into each other’s eyes. He was angry, that she knew
by the fierce look on his face and perhaps the small steam that seemed to be
bouncing off him. Blue steam that rolled off him like an aura.

“Talk to her, Simon. Tell her what’s
going on.”

“Amber, listen to me, lass.”

“Get him off of me, Simon.”

Simon knelt down by the bed but still
didn’t push the stranger away.

She struggled again only to feel the
man’s knee slip between hers. Panic crawled up her throat and she squeezed her
eyes shut.

“He’s here to help, Amber. He’s
holding the emotions of others away. Can’t you feel it?”

Amber heard Helen gasp.

She looked toward the door to find
Helen and Giles standing there. Amber hadn’t felt them coming. Deep inside she
reached for the emotions of the others in the room and only felt one. The man
holding her down.

“Don’t look for trouble. It’s taken
hours to thicken the barrier. If you push against it, it might not hold,” the
stranger told her.

“How do you know I’m pushing?”

“Because we’re linked.”

“Linked?”

He nodded, his breath swept hot over
her. “Don’t panic.” He winced as if her worry wounded him.

He lowered one of her hands in his
and brought it up to her eyes. “Do you see the light?”

Blue light glistened.

“What is it?”

“My shield. It’s keeping out
everyone’s thoughts but ours.”