Highland Protector (MacCoinnich Time Travels Book Five) (4 page)

Chapter Four

Amber shot up from her bed when the
house shook. Very few things caused the world to upend as they just had. She
paused, briefly, felt the presence of someone unfamiliar, and forced herself
from her seclusion.

The pain in her head peaked as she
descended the stairs. Anxiety, hers and several others in the house, assaulted
her system and made her shake.

Helen and Mrs. Dawson stood in
silence when Amber rushed into the library. Their eyes locked with a stranger
sitting in one of Mrs. Dawson’s reading chairs.

All eyes swung to her.

The man surged to his feet, the book
in his lap dropped to the floor. Amber clutched the edges of her cloak and
stepped back. Though she didn’t think the man meant her any harm, her instinct
kicked in. Every candle in the room lit, and the fireplace roared to life.

He didn’t stop staring at her.

Helen pulled Mrs. Dawson beside her
until the three of them stood in unity. “Who are you?” Helen asked.

The man switched his attention to
Helen then back to Amber. “I-I’m Giles.” He blinked a few times and reached
down to pick up the book that had fallen to the floor. He waved a hand in the
air, and the candles sitting on the floor blew out. He stepped over them,
placed the book on a table, and proceeded to study the walls in the room. “I’m
still in the fortress?”

Confusion rolled off the stranger in
strong waves.

“Excuse me?” Helen asked.

“The fortress. Formerly known as
Dawson’s Manor. This is the library is it not?”

“Formerly known as?” Mrs. Dawson
asked.

“It’s been years, of course.” The man
moved to a bookcase, removed one of the titles, and dusted the edges of the old
book. He clicked his tongue as if disappointed in the dirt. “Dust and light are
a book’s worst enemy,” he informed them.

“Excuse me? But who the hell are you
and how did you get here?” Helen stepped forward and her voice rose.

He sat the book down and removed the
glasses from his nose. “I told you. I’m Giles, the keeper of the books. As for
how I got here…well, you hold the answers to that. I was calmly studying,
talking with a friend, and then suddenly I appeared here. I assume one of you
shifted time on my behalf.”

Amber’s hand reached for the pendant
on the chain around her neck and looked at Helen. Helen’s necklace was hidden
under her shirt, but she too held one of the time traveling stones.

“Did you summon him?” Amber asked
Helen.

With Amber’s words, Giles leveled his
gaze once again to her.

Helen exchanged a look with Mrs.
Dawson. “We must have.”

“But you don’t know who he is?”

“We were looking for a cure for you,
Amber. I thought one of the books was going to fly off the shelf, not pop a man
out of nowhere,” Helen told her.

“Amber?” Giles asked.

“Aye.”

The way the man watched her now
softened. Some of the anxiety in the room eased.

He stepped in her direction and
peered closer.

Amber hid under the hood of her cloak
and stepped out of the man’s reach. He stopped his advance as if sensing her
distress.

Helen moved between the two of them.
“Don’t touch her.”

Giles looked over Helen’s shoulder.
“I won’t.”

“Do you know who I am?” Amber asked.

“I’m almost afraid to ask. Can I see
your face?”

Amber reached to her head and slowly
removed her hood.

“You must be her.”

“Must be who?”

“The woman Kincaid is searching for.
Tell me, Amber…what is your surname?”

Amber searched out this man’s
thoughts, his feelings and didn’t sense any harm could possibly come from his
gentle soul. “MacCoinnich. Daughter of—”

“Lord Ian and Lady Lora,” Giles said
before he dropped to his knee and bowed his head. “My Lady.”

Amber sighed. “That is not necessary
in this century. Please rise.”

He didn’t rise right away and Helen
shuffled her feet. “Don’t see that every day.”

It had been some time, but Amber was
used to the gesture. “Please, Giles. ’Tis not necessary.”

He stood and stepped closer. Once
again, Helen intercepted. “Dude, I mean it. Don’t touch her.”

He lowered his eyes. “Forgive me. I
never thought I’d meet any of the original family. I’m humbled…honored.”

Amber pulled the hood of her cloak
over her head to mute out the noise inside her head.

“You have us at a disadvantage, Mr.
Giles. It appears you’re comfortable in my library and have knowledge of
Amber…but we know nothing of you.” Mrs. Dawson indicated the sofa. “Perhaps we
can get comfortable and you can tell us who you are. Where you’re from.”

“It’s just Giles.”

Amber settled into a chair to avoid
sitting close to anyone in the room.

Giles sized up Mrs. Dawson. “Did you
say this is your library?”

“You did say Dawson’s Manor, didn’t
you?”

He nodded.

“I can’t take credit for the naming
of my home, but I am Mrs. Dawson. The library was the pride of my late husband,
but it was created by the both of us.”

Where Giles held himself back in
reserve from Amber, he burst with enthusiasm at Mrs. Dawson’s confession. “
The
Mrs. Dawson? Really?”

Mrs. Dawson caught the back of the
sofa as she made her way to a chair. Giles was at her side in an instant, ready
to assist her. Unlike Amber, Mrs. Dawson happily allowed him to help her. “I’m
sure there are other Mrs. Dawson’s out there, but I’m the only one here.”

“How rich is this? Mrs. Dawson and
Amber MacCoinnich both under one roof. How did I miss this in the books?” Giles
shifted his gaze to Helen. “And who might you be?”

“No one, I assure you.”

“Clearly you’re someone. I didn’t
come here under my own power. I
assure
you, mine isn’t that active.”

Amber sensed Helen’s worry about
revealing information to the stranger and decided to lead the conversation
instead of chase it.

“Giles?” Amber gained his attention.
“Might we offer you refreshment while we sort out what transpired to bring you
to us?”

“I’m good.”

She turned her attention to Helen.
“Can I trouble you for tea? And perhaps you can inform your husband of our
guest?”

Helen’s brow lifted. “Good idea. I’ll
be right back.”

Amber calmly laced her fingers
together and placed her hands in her lap.

“What year is it, exactly?” Giles
asked as calmly as if he were discussing the weather.

“Two thousand and twelve,” Mrs.
Dawson informed him. “What year did you arrive from?”

“Twenty-two thirty-one.”

“How is it possible that a man so far
in the future has any knowledge of me?” Amber asked.

When Giles smiled, his eyes crinkled
at the corners like a lad half his age. “You’re a legend, m’lady. If not for
you and your family, none of us would exist. You’re Druid royalty.”

****

 “Computer!” Kincaid shouted as he
shielded himself. “Lockdown. I repeat. Lockdown!”

The computer responded, setting the
alarm inside the fortress. The red strobe light flashed and the high-pitched
cry of the alarm informed everyone on the compound of a breach in the security.

“Lockdown activated. Lockdown
activated. This is not a drill.” The computer calmly spoke in the speaker
systems throughout the fortress.

Kincaid walked around the chair where
Giles had been seated before he vanished. He felt the familiar zap in the air after
a shift in time took place. Only Giles wasn’t a traveler.

Which meant someone took him.

But who? And how?

Colleen rushed into the room,
followed by Rory and Allen. All were battle-ready with weapons drawn.

Colleen assessed the room quickly,
lowered her weapon. “What’s going on?”

“Giles. He’s gone.”

Rory and Allen stiffened their spines
and lowered the muzzles of their guns to the floor.

“Gone?”

“We were talking. Then the energy in
the room shifted and he disappeared.”

“Shifted?” Colleen asked.

“Disappeared?” Was Rory’s question.

Kincaid met Rory’s eyes. “He shifted
in time.”

Before Rory could utter a word, the
room filled with half dozen other warriors.

“Giles isn’t a traveler.”

“Close your eyes. Smell the air,”
Kincaid told him. “Tell me that doesn’t smell of time travel.”

Rory didn’t close his eyes, but the
confusion around his eyes relaxed. “Holy hell.”

“He’s not marked,” Colleen stated
what everyone in the room already knew. Giles wasn’t strong enough to carry the
mark of a branded time traveling warrior.

“He shifted. I witnessed it with my
own eyes.”

Colleen twisted to address the men
filling the room. “I need every traveler to gather those left behind. Rory, you
and Allen congregate those here into the safe room. Colin, you and Owen spread
throughout the compound with the others…inform everyone to gather and await
further orders.”

The men nodded and hurried from the
library.

Kincaid rested his right hand on his
sidearm, comfortable that it was close by. He was reminded he’d left no less
than three back up weapons in his suite.
Sloppy! You’re getting sloppy,
Kincaid!
He scolded himself and moved about the room reaching beyond his
shield to sense if the energy that shifted Giles was past or future.

Before he could narrow the energy,
Colleen announced. “He’s gone back.”

Her gifts often scared him, and
nothing scared him. “Agreed. But how?”

“Was he chanting? Reading from a
book?” She moved around the room as if some bit of evidence would manifest. All
the while, the strobe light blinked off and on in the room.

“Not chanting. He did possess a book.
But when does Giles not have a book in his hand?” That was nothing new.

“What were you talking about?”

“The MacCoinnich’s.”

“The first family?”

“Yes. I asked him to research a
portrait I noticed on our last journey. The paths led back to them.”

From the hall, he heard several
people moving quickly through the house and down the stairs.

Colleen closed her eyes and lifted
her hands into the air. “The energy is strong and unlike any I’ve felt before.”

“A strong blaze.”

“No. A short, hot blaze. I don’t
think Giles has gone back far. Two…three hundred years at most.”

How the hell does she know that?
Even as the question filled his head,
he knew better than to ask it. Colleen’s gifts were greater than any. That was
why she led them.

“Can you sense where he went?”

She hadn’t yet opened her eyes.
“Nowhere. He’s…oh hells, he’s still here. Right here.”

“In the fortress?”

Colleen’s lips drew into a thin line
and a tiny bead of sweat rolled off her brow. “Not such a strong fortress. The
bands aren’t secure, which is why he easily slid through.” Then, without
warning, Colleen opened her eyes and shook her head. “It’s gone.”

So was Giles. But at least they knew
he was still in the house. How difficult could searching back two or three
hundred years be?

Chapter Five

Nervous anticipation ran like fire
ants up and down Giles’s spine. He was rooted into the seat he’d been offered
and didn’t dare move. Amber MacCoinnich,
in the flesh
, watched from
beneath her hooded cloak. The lady was ill—that was plain to see from the ashen
color of her skin to the dark circles beneath her eyes. Even still, she was
more beautiful than Kincaid suggested. Giles had a million questions but didn’t
dare ask any.

The young woman who’d protected Amber
from his touch had asked that they not begin to unravel how Giles had come to
be in the twenty-first century until after her husband returned.

“How does my library change through
the years?” Mrs. Dawson asked, obviously making small talk while waiting for
the man of the house to arrive.

What surprised Giles was how few
people were in the home now. Such little protection for the women was a grave
mistake.

“The shelves surrounding the
fireplace are the very same. The others have been remodeled and more are added
to hold the growing collection. I believe that wall…” He pointed to the wall
behind Amber, “is pushed back, making the room larger.”

“And you’re the librarian?”

Giles smiled into the thought. “I
suppose you can call me that. I’m the fortress historian and am called upon
often to search out a particular time or genealogy.”

“How fascinating,” Mrs. Dawson said.
“I would think computers and those electronic book things would make these old
books obsolete.”

“They are. But some work shouldn’t be
translated into a computer where anyone could hack and collect the data. A
keeper of the books, that would be me, has been a part of this library
since…well, since you.”

Mrs. Dawson shook her head. “You’re
mistaken about that. I may own these books, but I have very little knowledge
about most of them. I haven’t even attempted to collect more since Mr. Dawson
passed away.”

Giles knew for a fact that the books
never stopped growing in numbers. Many of the tomes were spread among the safe
houses in the world, but their point of origin was right here in Dawson’s
Manor.

From the front of the house, he heard
a heavy door slam against a wall, instantly bringing Giles to his feet.

Before he could move more than a
foot, a massive man filled the doorway. His stony expression and sheer bulk
made Giles’s heart kick in his chest. Now
this
was a warrior. Giles
stood no chance in battle against a man this size, and there was no telling if
he held Druid blood.

“Simon, please,” Amber whimpered.
“This man means us no harm.”

“Are you sure, lass?”

“Positive. He is from the future and
is Druid. Now please, calm yourself so I might be able to hear what he has to
say before I am forced to retreat. Your fear is unfounded.”

“I don’t
fear
him.”

“No, you fear for us. You can see we
are unharmed.” Amber lifted a pale hand to her head.

Giles pushed past his comfort and
extended a hand to the warrior. “I’m Giles,” he told Simon. “Your wife and Mrs.
Dawson somehow summoned me.”

Simon hesitated, but then clasped
Giles’s hand. His strong grip was painful, as if to remind him he could snap
him if necessary, not that this man needed to do anything other than walk in
the room to prove that.

“Helen?” Simon addressed his wife.
“What have you done?”

Giles backed into the couch and
waited to hear what Helen had done.

Simon didn’t sit. Instead, he took up
the space beside his wife while she explained.

“Mrs. Dawson was searching inside a
few books…looking for a cure for Amber. I attempted to find the right book with
my gift. I sensed something by the windows, but found nothing. We requested
help from the Ancients and Giles appeared.”

“And you know a cure for Amber?”
Simon asked.

“I don’t know what is ailing the
lady. But perhaps I can help. I do have extensive knowledge of the books in
this library and many others. I’d be honored to help if I can.”

He turned to look in Amber’s
direction. “What’s making you sick, m’lady?”

She drew in a long-suffering breath.
“My gift. I’m an empath. Since the day we destroyed Grainna, my powers have
grown to the point of crippling my movement…my life. My mother foresaw my death
in our time and sent me here to protect me. Only this is no better. Though I
don’t share my mother’s ability to see the future, I know I don’t have long in
this world as I am.”

“Don’t say that,” Helen scolded her.

Amber lifted her soulful gaze to
Helen. “I’m not trying to frighten you. I’m stating a fact. I know my death is
inevitable. I would have returned to my family to die at home, but their pain
would be too great for me to bear as my last thoughts. Selfishly I must stay
here where only the three of you will suffer the pain. For that I’m sorry.”

Giles would have liked to offer reassurance,
but all his books pointed to the fact Amber did die young.

Simon rested a hand on his wife’s
shoulder as he addressed Giles, “The Ancients brought you to us, so you must
hold the answers.”

“I’ve never heard of any Druid dying
because of their gift. Quite the opposite. But then there has never been a
presence as dark as Grainna who needed to be defeated. Didn’t it take your
entire clan to destroy her?”

“Aye.”

Giles stood and started to pace the
room. “It’s been told that when one Druid destroys another the surviving soul
can absorb the powers of the other.”

“Only if the Druid is dark. Amber
isn’t,” Helen reminded them.

“My powers increased, but not the way
Amber’s did,” Simon said.

Giles stared at Simon with renewed
interest. “Which MacCoinnich are you?” Could he actually be in the presence of
two original family members?

“My mother is Liz. Elizabeth
MacCoinnich.”

“You’re Finlay’s son?”

“Yes. Adoptive, but Fin is my
father.”

Giles scratched his head. “The books
don’t speak of an adopted son.”

Simon shrugged. “I was born in this
century to my mother. We both traveled back in time.”

“The books aren’t clear, but I always
thought there were some connections made through time travel.”

“While the refresher on the family
tree is fascinating, can we get back to saving Amber’s life?” Helen’s voice
cracked as she spoke. “The Ancients aren’t known to drop arbitrary people into
our laps without a purpose. You must know something useful.”

“Right!” Giles crossed the room to
the book he’d been studying when he’d slipped in time. “I was searching this
book for references to you, Amber. There are some passages in here from your
family’s children, and their children.”

“Why me?”

“Kincaid asked that I search for the
name behind a portrait he noticed on one of his travels. He’d not seen it
before.”

“Kincaid?” Amber’s soft voice asked.

“Yeah.” Giles stopped flipping pages
and straightened his shoulders. “Did you by chance sit for a painting? One with
your hair down and without the robe you’re wearing?”

“Aye. Last season. The portrait hangs
on the wall in my parents’ chambers.”

“Seems I found the answer to
Kincaid’s question, but not to yours.” Could the Ancients have brought him to
this time because of his question and not to save Amber? Or was there more to
learn from the old leather-bound pages?

“Let me help.” Helen jumped up from
her chair and placed her hands over the book. “Show me!” she whispered.

Without warning, the book opened,
slamming the cover to the table, and the pages within flipped, paused, and
started flipping again.

Giles spotted the page numbers as the
book paused every few chapters before moving on. When the end of the book was
reached, the book closed and slid across the table, catching Giles across his
thighs.

They all stood perfectly still and said
nothing. And then Mrs. Dawson chuckled. “I do believe that was a magical slap,”
she declared. “Seems you have some reading to do, Giles.”

Giles lifted the book, felt the
energy around it snap against his fingertips.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I think I’ll retire.” Amber slowly
walked to the door and offered him a smile. “Thank you in advance for searching
for answers, Mr. Giles.”

“I won’t sleep until I’ve found a
cure.” He wouldn’t.

Once her retreating footfalls were no
longer heard, Simon turned his attention toward him. “How do you like your
coffee?”

Coffee? Real coffee?
Perhaps this century had its perks
after all. “Black.”

****

“Can we follow him?” Rory asked

“We could try, but we might be
running into a trap. Whoever did this is powerful,” Colin said.

They met in the basement safe room
while Sybil and Mathew searched the compound looking for breaks in the wards
they’d placed to protect those inside.

“But Colleen feels he hasn’t left the
house. How can we be falling into a trap if he’s still inside these walls?”

“How did he shift time? He’s not
marked and he wasn’t in any of the portals.” Kincaid absently rubbed his left
arm where his mark had been etched into his skin like a tattoo over a decade
ago. Only warriors, and strong ones at that, were chosen to shift time. Kincaid’s
ability to take others with him made him more valuable than most.

“He was summoned,” Colleen said with
absolute conviction. “The path of energy sought him out.”

“Are you sure, Lena?” Only Colin got
away with calling his sister by her pet name.

She nodded once then directed her
attention to Kincaid. “You were talking about the first family.”

“Yes. And Giles was searching for
information about the youngest daughter. He thinks hers was the portrait I saw
on the wall of the Keep.”

From the stairwell, Sybil and Mathew
jogged down to join them.

“Well?”

“Everything is secure. There was a
breach over the library when we arrived.” Mathew glanced at Sybil.

“Did you mend it?”

Sybil shook her head. “We didn’t need
to. It mended itself.”

Her announcement took everyone by
surprise.

“I don’t like this!” Colin shoved out
of his chair. “Someone, or something, reached its hand into our fortress,
snatched Giles, and covered its path? Who is that powerful?”

A name threatened to burst from
Kincaid’s lips, but he kept it to himself. Grainna was long dead. “Can you
trace Giles, Colleen? Narrow the timeframe?”

“I might. Then what? Do we send a
team to retrieve him? We can’t afford to lose warriors.”

Kincaid shook his head. “No. You send
me and me alone.”

Rory huffed out a breath. “Don’t be
ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I can keep anyone and
everyone in this room from touching me, and I alone can bring Giles back
without the aid of a portal. Can you do that, Rory?”

He and Rory had fought side by side
for years. He understood the other man’s concern, but no one in the room could
boast Kincaid’s unique ability to retrieve Giles. Bringing others would
certainly open them up for loss, a loss Colleen pointed out they could ill
afford.

“I hate to agree, but Kincaid is
right. If Giles was removed to trap us, the play will be on them when we send
our immortal,” Colin said.

“He’s not immortal,” Rory reminded
them. “Just cocky.”

Kincaid felt a rare smile on his
lips. “You’re just jealous.”

“Bloody ass.” Rory’s expression
hardened but he didn’t argue more.

“It’s agreed then,” Colin said.
“Colleen will trace the flow of energy. Kincaid, you should rest until we have
a lock on Giles. We’ll go from lockdown to high alert and schedule more scouts
on watch. Any objections?”

Kincaid systematically met the eyes
of all the warriors; each one gave a nod, and lastly Rory grunted his approval.

Up in his room, Kincaid set out a
fresh uniform and checked his weapons for charge. With everything set for a
twenty second recovery, he stripped and forced himself to lie in bed. He stared
at the ceiling and felt his natural defenses shield him. He pushed the unease
of his pending solo journey from his mind and attempted to sleep.

When he closed his eyes, he saw
her…the woman in the portrait. He tried to shake her image and found a dull
pain settling behind his brow.

****

The women had all gone to bed, and
Giles sat at the desk trying to make sense of what he read. Each passage
indicated different people, different unions. None of them talked of powers or
illness. The more he read the more frustrated he became.