Highland Shifter (MacCoinnich Time Travel) (11 page)

You
’re not my type.
What was her type? Lord, if it wasn’t a strong, built, in control man, then what was?

I
’m not ready.
Okay, she could work with this.

“I
’m not ready to be kissing you. I know there’s this crazy chemistry going on here, but I’m not ready.” Oh, no, did she have to mention their chemistry?

Simon lifted her chin and stared deeply into her eyes. “I never had the opportunity to take chemistry.”

Helen chuckled and felt the tension of the moment pass. “It was boring. You didn’t miss much.”

“Mayhap you
’ll instruct me on what I’ve missed.”

She smiled. “Mayhap.” Oh, boy…who says
mayhap
? Sixteenth century men from Scotland, that’s who.

Simon stepped away, but not far. “Tell me about the necklace.”

Right! The necklace that wouldn’t come free of her neck. “I found it in a pawn shop. It isn’t valuable. I checked.”

Simon was swinging the pendent around her neck and taking a closer look. His fingers were warm on her skin…comfortable.

“What is this stone in the middle?”

“I
’ve no idea. A rock, maybe? The metal encasing it is old. I had it radiocarbon dated.”

“Carbon dated?”

“Sorry. I guess chemistry has its purpose. When we try to date an antique that isn’t easily placed in a specific time, carbon dating is a process used to determine the year it’s made. Any material that has the compound of carbon can be dated back over 60,000 years. Carbon really refers to skin, bone, teeth. Metals are different, more difficult to date. They use a radiocarbon dating system, but it isn’t as accurate as dating completely carbon based products. In this case, I asked the lab to use uranium dating. There are traces of lead in the chain. And surprisingly, carbon was found, too.”

“What is the source of the carbon?”

“Human tissue. Which is kind of gross when you think of it. My guess is the person who made it scraped their skin, bled on it, or something.”

Simon
’s thumb traced the stone, his expression shifted.

“When did it date back to, Helen?”

The serious tone in his voice removed all the lingering hormones swimming in her body.

“The dating wasn
’t exact.”

“When?”

“Early seventeenth century. Maybe before.”

“You said this necklace started it all. What did you mean by that?”

Helen stood back and Simon’s hand dropped to his side. “After I found the necklace I came across the candlesticks. Then your picture. Then the book.”

“The book?”

“The one with your picture. I told you about the woman in it.”

Simon sent her a questioning look. “You told me of the woman, but not the necklace.”

“I didn’t? I thought for sure I did.” Could she have forgotten that detail? “The woman in the book was wearing this necklace. Or one exactly like it.”

Simon
’s jaw dropped. “’Tis a very important detail.”

“I thought I told you.”

“You didn’t, I assure you.” He moved over to the books piled into the boxes by the door. One at a time, he removed the books and arraigned them in the middle of the floor.

“Did you think of something?”

“Aye.”

He moved the books using the acronym method they
’d come up with the night before.

H.E.L.E.N. Soon Simon moved the books and found the word “necklace.”

“Helen necklace,” she whispered. She found a massive tome titled “Sorcerer” and made her name possessive. “Helen’s necklace.”

There were eight books left. T.E.K.H.I.E.S.Y.

“His? These? Tie?”

“Tie Helen
’s necklace?” Simon said aloud.

Kneeling beside him, Helen moved books around.

“We need a verb.”

“Impossible. Sainthood. Is.
Helen’s necklace is.”

Simon shoved the books back and forth as a thought struck. When he was done, they both smiled.

“Helen’s necklace is the key.”

“I believe we found what we were looking for.”

The weight of the pendent on her neck felt heavy and warm. “You think the necklace moved me in time?”

“If not, then what?”

She tugged on it, wanting it off. If it moved her though time once, it could do it again.

“Get if off.” She batted it with her hands, pulled and attempted to break it free. But the chain was thick and unrelenting. She
’d loved the heavy chain the first time she put it on. Not anymore.

“Calm down.” Simon attempted to grab her hands, but she moved away.

“It needs to come off.”

“Relax, Helen.”

“Relax? Easy for you to say. The thing isn’t fused to you.”

“If the Ancients wanted it anywhere but around your neck, you
’d be able to remove it easily. Don’t fight with it.”

Simon and his Ancients, those spiritual beings he credited for everything that happened. She didn
’t lend much belief in spirits.

Helen stopped pulling and walked briskly to the junk drawer in her kitchen. There she found a pair of pliers and moved them to the chain.

“Halt!” Simon yelled his voice stopped her instantly. “You may be destroying my only chance to return home.”

The pliers fell from her hand, hit the counter,
and then tumbled to the floor. He was right. Her own insecurities and fears were making her rush to action. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Her hands shook with the force of her fear.

“We
’ll figure out what makes the necklace work. Together.”

“But what if I wake up in your time and you
’re here?”

“You won
’t.” Simon’s hands rested on her shoulders.

She wanted to believe him but didn
’t know what to believe anymore. “You don’t know that.”

“I
’ll not leave your side.”

“But—”

“Shhh.”

Not leave her side?
Her body tightened in a ball of pressure. What the hell was wrong with her?

* * * *

Amber palmed one of the small stones and rubbed her thumb along its smooth surface. “I know you’ve done this for a reason,” she voiced to whatever, whoever might be listening. The Ancients only appeared in dire times. This obviously wasn’t one of them. Simon might be missing from this century, but Amber no longer felt the forbearing weight of loss she did when he’d first stepped out of this time. She guessed the lack of acute pain was due to Lizzy’s emotions calming. Bearing the weight of other peoples’ emotions, experiencing their joy, pain, and sorrow, became more oppressive with each passing year.

This was her Druid gift.

Lately it knifed her like a curse.

Her burden was shared with her parents. Her father, Ian, encouraged her to find a husband, someone of her own to love and start a family. Each suitor Amber turned away, unable to bear their touch or experience their lingering pain.

Lora’s premonitions had faded as she aged, giving Amber hope that hers would diminish, too.

Through the years, the pain of the family faded enough to bear their direct contact. But even that became increasingly difficult. Simon was a part of that family. Although they didn
’t share any blood relation, he was a brother to her. She missed him.

A knock on her chamber door sounded, followed by her mother
’s voice. “’Tis me.”

“Come in.”

Lora’s skirts swished along the floor as she crossed the room. She wore grace and elegance as others would wear a scarf. Her mother’s long dark hair was bundled into a snood at her neck; the lace matched the deep umber color of her dress.

“Are you still studying the stones?”

Amber returned her eyes to the table on which the smaller stones lay. “Aye. The Ancients are trying to tell us something.”

Lora lifted one of the stones and rolled it in her hand. “Agreed. And I think I may know what they
’re suggesting.”

“You
’ve had a premonition?”

She shook her head. “More feeling than anything predetermined.”

“Don’t leave me waiting.”

Lora lifted the stone to Amber
’s chest and tilted her head to the side in thought. “When I close my eyes I see a necklace. Nothing ornate, or made with any precious metal. A simple design any of the villagers might fashion.”

Amber lifted her palm to her mother. The stone fell into it. “A necklace? As a way of disguising it?”

“Mayhap. Remember Simon’s suggestion years ago about hiding the larger stones in plain sight. He said something about a pet rock.”

Amber laughed. “Lizzy
’s endless explanation of a pet rock lasted for weeks. But yes, I remember.”

Lora sat on the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “I thought of Simon, as a child, talking about pet rocks. Now these small pieces of the sacred stones may very well be lost if left unattended. Placed in a piece of jewelry, or in the handle of a knife, they wouldn
’t disappear without notice.”

“I think you
’re right. I’ll ask Cian to take me to the village tomorrow so we might obtain materials to achieve your goal.” Making jewelry wouldn’t bring Simon back, but the task might empty her mind and help guide her to the answers she sought.

Chapter Ten

“They
’re sending my things.” Helen hung up the phone and turned Simon’s way.

How had he seen the necklace around her neck and not thought of home? Clearly, there was a simple design of Celtic knots inlaid around the stone. Maybe because he was used to seeing such designs, he didn
’t pay any attention to Helen’s. But he should have noticed it before now.

“What will happen when your boss arrives and doesn
’t find you there?”

“I really don
’t care. I obviously can’t trust him.”

“You must let him believe he came here undetected.
’Tis the only way we can determine what he sought.”

“Are you suggesting we wait for him to do it again?”

“It may not come to that.” The distress covering Helen’s face forced Simon to keep his thoughts to himself. Something about Philip Lyons felt dark. If Amber were by Simon’s side, she could better determine the man’s motivations.

“He
’s going to be more than pissed when he gets to Scotland and I’m not there.”

Simon rubbed the stubble on his chin. “When your enemy is angered, they act irrational.”

“Oh, joy!” Helen said without amusement.

“It will take at least two days before he returns.”

“That doesn’t seem like a lot of time.”

“We
’ve more than enough time to penetrate his home as he did yours and learn more about him.”

Helen
’s jaw dropped open, her eyes grew wide. “Break into his house?”

“We aren
’t going to steal anything, lass. We’re only going to look around.”

Helen ran a hand through her hair. “It
’s still illegal.”

“You can stay here. I
’ll go alone.” The task would be easier solo anyway.

“And risk jumping in time by myself? I don
’t think so.”

He didn
’t want that either. “Does he live with anyone?”

“Not that I know of.”

“A housekeeper?”

Helen shrugged.

“Then we’ll go after dark.”

“Oh, man.” Helen rubbed her palms over her jean-clad thighs.

He could tell Helen was going to be a bundle of nerves until their task was done. Best to get her mind off their coming adventure. He held out a hand to her and stood. “Come.”

Her gaze slid from his hand to his face. “Where to?”

Simon wiggled his fingers, coaxing her. “’Tis been a long time since I’ve been in this century. I think I’d like a walk through the zoo and maybe a little Chinese food.”

“Chinese food? You
’re thinking of food at a time like this?”

He laughed. “A body needs fuel no matter the time. C
’mon.”

Relenting, Helen placed her small hand in his and allowed him to help her to her feet.

* * * *

The aroma drifting from the bag of takeout filled the interior of Helen
’s car. He didn’t remember the food he liked, so he had Helen order for them. It was after two when they arrived at the zoo. Helen wouldn’t understand his desire for this trip, not until she understood the extent of his Druid gifts. For Simon, it was a long denied outing. His ability to understand an animal’s motivation and desire, to communicate with them, had come to him after he left this century. In Scotland, the domestic animals and an occasional wild fox or bird were his only animal friends. In a zoo, the possibilities were endless.