“One last question, Kincaid. What were you and Giles speaking of when he disappeared?”
He narrowed his eyes, stared directly into those watching him. “We were talking about a portrait of a woman.”
The hand at his neck fell away. With the connection broken, Kincaid’s shield shot up. Not that he worried this man would harm him now. Still, he’d take no chances.
“I take it his story checks out?” Jake said behind them.
“Ah, Simon?” Selma said. “Much as I like the peep show, I think it’s kinda creepy that I’m no longer guessing what you wear under your kilt.”
Jake grunted. “You don’t have to look.”
“Like you’d divert your eyes if a hot chick was standing here naked. Such a hypocrite.”
“You’re Simon MacCoinnich?” Kincaid asked.
“Aye.”
From behind him, Jake handed Simon a throw from his sofa. He wrapped it around his waist.
“And you know where Giles is?”
“Aye.”
This was going to be easier than he originally thought. “Then you can take me to him and we’ll return to our time.”
Simon looked between the couple standing behind them and back. “No.”
“Excuse me?” The hair in Kincaid’s neck stood up.
“I’ll take you to Giles, but he will not return until a cure has been found.”
“A cure for what?”
Simon didn’t smile, didn’t reveal any emotion at all. “To save the life of the woman in the portrait.”
The hair on Kincaid’s arms joined that of his neck. “She’s here?”
“Aye. Amber’s here. Come.” Simon started for the door wearing a blanket.
“Wait,” Selma stopped him. “How am I going to get home? Your car only seats two.”
Simon glanced at Jake.
Jake grunted. “Fine. And Kincaid…if you walk around like that in two thousand and twelve you’re going to get hauled in to the nearest police station.”
Kincaid glanced at the strap on his hip holding his blaster, noted the long blade on his back and another side arm on his leg.
Jake stepped forward, lifted his hand. “I can hold them for you.”
He stood back. “I don’t think so.”
Jake shrugged. “Can’t blame me for trying. Where are your clothes, Simon? You walk out like that and people will think I’m having a damn orgy in here or something.”
Selma laughed.
He pointed an accusing finger her way. “Enough from you.”
Five minutes later Kincaid climbed into a gas powered vehicle and sped through a vaguely familiar town.
The airway was free of traffic, but the ground was car to car. Simon maneuvered through the city, shifting between other cars. “Looks different to you?”
“More than you can imagine.”
Simon huffed a laugh. “I grew up in the sixteenth century. I can imagine a lot.”
Kincaid watched the other man’s profile. “Why are you here? In this century?”
“Two reasons. My wife and Amber.”
“Is Amber really dying?”
“Yes. Faster every day.”
“What from?” His insides grew cold as he spoke.
“Her gift. She’s empathic.” Simon spared him a glance then returned his eyes to the road. “She’ll sense us before we reach the city limit. That shield you use…can you cloak your thoughts, feelings?”
“I can.”
“Good. Do so. She doesn’t need to feel anything from you. With Giles in the house she’s been driven to her bedroom.”
“Why is she so sensitive? The empaths I’ve met—”
“None of the empaths you’ve met did battle with Grainna. Amber has and, without a strong filter, she’s unable to cope with the growing power.”
Kincaid thought of the haunted eyes in the portrait he’d seen. Now he understood the emotion behind the expression. It was as if the woman had given up all hope. That would certainly kill her…sooner than later.
They exited a highway and the familiar landscape sharpened. “We’re going to the fortress.”
“It’s only a house. A big house, but a house.”
They rounded what would eventually be the opening to the compound. There weren’t any walls, no protection. “Who lives in these homes?”
Simon glanced to his right, then left. “Neighbors.”
“You haven’t obtained the properties, yet?”
“What do you mean?”
Damn…when had Dawson’s Manner expanded? He thought it was before the turn of the century. Apparently not. “All of this,” he said, waving his hand around, “is part of the compound in the future. Beyond the walls of the fortress is a barrier of wards protecting all who live within.”
“Like I said. It’s just a house. Only a few of us live there. It’s hard enough for Amber with neighbors a few blocks away.”
No wonder Simon was so careful. He was virtually alone in his quest to keep those in the fortress safe. “The future isn’t bright, Simon. All these homes need to be obtained and walls need to go up. This should be one of your main priorities.”
“Should you be telling me this?”
“If not me, who? I’m not the only Druid who can travel in time.”
“You’re talking about the others…the ones Giles warned me about.”
Worry shivered up Kincaid’s spine. “Lethal bastards who will search a trail of energy to find you and your family. Change the path of time as you know it.”
“Change time?”
Kincaid ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. Some caught word of Grainna and want to stop her from ever being destroyed. Others simply want your power to enhance their own. With only two of you in this time…you’re vulnerable.”
“Grainna is dead.”
“But what if any part of her journey to death was altered? I’m a warrior, Simon. I have fought by your ancestors’ sides my whole life. They haven’t known we were there, but we’ve stopped the others from changing time more than once.”
“You’ve been to MacCoinnich Keep?”
“Many times. After your time and in my own time.”
“It’s still there now?”
Kincaid wanted to laugh, but didn’t. “Of course it’s still there. Cloaked and hidden from the eyes of many, but it’s very much still standing.”