Highland Protector (MacCoinnich Time Travels #5)(28)
Author: Catherine Bybee

He turned on his side and watched her as the light of the moon shone in from the windows. Her gaze was fixed on something above her.

“She followed Fin and Lizzy back to our time as an old woman. It wasn’t long before her curse was broken and every day was a fight for survival. I’d been told all my life to use my gifts only when necessary. To hide them.” She smiled, taking Kincaid by surprise. “Then Lizzy confronted all of us. Told us to work together, pull our energy together to fight Grainna. Can you imagine my excitement when I, a mere child, was encouraged to help battle evil?”

“It made you feel worthy.”

“Aye. Worthy and needed. I worked harder…searching other’s thoughts, the intentions of the animals around us. Anything. I’d sit in my room at night and spark fire from my fingers so often my fingertips were black.” She laughed. The memory fresh in her mind filled him with warmth. “I realized the thought of Grainna coming back into her power truly terrified my father.” She twisted in the bed and looked at him. “My father is never frightened. Worried, maybe…but frightened? Nay. Never.”

“He understood the risk.”

“He did. More than any of us. The evil she spread before we defeated her was a black soupy fog that darkened so many families, so many lives.”

“Yours most of all.”

“Cian lost a young woman caught in the fist of Grainna. He never did recover completely. His pain gripped me more than anyone’s. It was his pain I felt knife through me once we destroyed Grainna. It was as if I couldn’t breathe. Everyone else celebrated her demise and I slowly started to feel all the pain she left in her wake.”

Kincaid swallowed.

“Before she died, when I saw her for the first time, I thought, my God, she’s beautiful. How could someone so lovely be so evil? Then she looked at me as if she read every thought and I closed my eyes to the beauty I saw and focused only on the evil I felt. The evil the others around me witnessed. She scratched inside my head, trying to sway me. I felt her crawling in my mind like a worm in mud.”

He scooted closer.

“I suppose one could say that was the moment I grew up. That was when I put my childhood behind me.”

“You were too young.”

“We had no choice. It took all of us to defeat her. How old were you when you first went into battle?”

“That’s different?”

“Why? Because you’re a man?”

“That…and I was raised as a warrior.”

She tucked her free hand under her cheek and rolled onto her side. “You’re not unlike the men in my time. Eager for blood and battle at a young age.”

“I’ve never been bloodthirsty.”

“I would hope not. Avoid battle, but if you can’t…come out the victor.”

“Your father’s words again?”

“Aye.”

Amber seemed to forget she was in bed with a man and curled beside him with a smile on her face as they talked. When was the last time he chatted with a woman in his bed?

“He’s a legend you know.”

“My father?”

He nodded. “Ian…your brothers.”

She grinned. “My father would scoff at that. Duncan, too. Fin, however, would love the title.”

“Vain?”

She gave her head a small shake. “Proud.”

“What about Cian?”

Her smile fell. “He would say the cost was too dear for the title.” She paused, lost in her thoughts he couldn’t read. “What does history tell of the women?”

“Your mother is considered the matriarch. Your sister, Myra…she’s talked about often, and Tara and Lizzy are as well, but not like the men. My guess is men edited the books in time and didn’t give the women their due.”

“I would say not. Lizzy led all of us many times. She had little faith in her own abilities, but knew together we’d be stronger. My father and Fin wanted nothing to do with involving the women in battle.”

Kincaid couldn’t completely relate. Women had always been a part of the team in his time. He knew of some men wanting to keep their women safe, which was probably why Kincaid opted to avoid involving his heart in his affairs. However, the women were often stronger in their Druid abilities and sometimes more levelheaded. Their usefulness on the team was unprecedented. Yet the women didn’t accompany them on many missions located in Amber’s time for obvious reasons. They did try to go undetected. If a woman were brandishing a sword, she’d be a target or very memorable.

“I miss them,” Amber said pulling him from his thoughts. “I want to see them again…”

He heard her next thought in his head. Before I die.

Her words cut deep.

****

Selma walked barefoot, with a cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand, through her two-bedroom apartment that housed her small office. She’d left Jake close to midnight. He’d fallen asleep in his recliner with the remote on the arm of the chair. Though the stick didn’t completely wiggle free of his sphincter during their dinner, he did manage to crack a smile or two in her presence. For a reason she couldn’t even explain, she wanted to see the man let go of his tight grip of control. Every once in a while, when he was snarking at her, she’d notice a brief smile, a flicker of mirth behind his eyes.

Had he always been so rigid? Did he laugh with his children…with his ex-wife?

Selma fired up her computer and checked her inbox for orders. Her online business for all things Wiccan had been profitable for several years. It helped that the books she’d written still sold…well, the first one anyway. The second one edged too close to the truth about Druids and straddled the religious fence, which made many readers uneasy. Thankfully, when she’d written it she didn’t know she was Druid. She truly thought she was a witch. Still, between what she’d learned in her life, and what seemed to be inside her from her ancestors, Selma realized who she was.

She wouldn’t be writing any more books. The first one, Sixth Sense, hit all the bestseller lists and landed her a few talk show spots several years ago. She’d been famous for a short time and ate it up. Now the only people who recognized her would have to follow her website and check out her “about me” page.

She printed out a half dozen invoices, flagged a back-order, and noticed a repeat customer’s name toward the bottom of her inbox.

He called himself Norman Rockwell, which made her laugh the first time she’d seen it. He always ordered her love potion, and he did so every week. The mixture of herbs would only work if the recipient cared for the giver. Or so Selma believed. The last package she sent to Norman she added a small charm…asking the Ancients to give the man peace with whoever the potion was meant for. Based on how frequently he purchased her love potion, it seemed the woman he was attempting to snag wasn’t interested.