Highland Shifter (MacCoinnich Time Travel) (33 page)

They started to levitate off the floor.

“Do you know where this is?” Simon asked Helen.

“Could be anywhere.”

The image weaved over and around the hills until it came upon a rocky bluff. All movement in the images stopped.

“It
’s too dark.” Amber peered forward.

Movement darted before their eyes.

“Coyote,” Helen murmured.

Simon tilted his chin and closed his eyes. He pictured the coyote hunting in the dark with nocturnal vision.
Come back into view
, he coaxed the animal with his head.

“There it is again.”

“Simon, can you reach it?” Lizzy asked.

He felt the cold of night nipping at his nose and felt the familiar heartbeat of a wild dog. “Yes.”

“Reach what?” Helen asked.

Let me in.
Simon spoke to the animal through the connection the Ancients had given them while Lizzy explained to Helen what he was doing.

“Simon can speak to animals, see through them. He
’s had to do this once before in a circle. If he can get into its head, maybe we can find out where it is.”

As his mother finished speaking, Simon felt the animal
’s will move aside and his own jump in. Simon shook his head and opened the coyote’s eyes. The world spun in muted black, white, and grey but the images were sharp. He picked up the scent of oil and campfires. Simon turned the animal around in search of light. His gaze landed on a lone car sitting in an unoccupied campground.

The coyote inched forward, ears alert and eyes sharp.

A loud click stopped his movement.

The passenger side of the car opened and a foot stepped out, then two.

Simon forced the animal behind a bush and watched.

His nose twitched with a scent more familiar than any before. Helen
’s scent.

“Found him.”

A growl rose in Simon’s throat and Philip froze.

It would be easy to make the coyote attack, leave the man for dead.

“Where is he?” Helen’s calm voice asked.

Simon forced the coyote to still and then back away.

“Simon?”

“I
’m looking.” Once Philip felt the threat was gone, he continued over to a small campfire he’d built and Simon forced the coyote to leave. Following the scent of cars, he found a path many had been on until he saw a paved road and a sign. “Red Rock Canyon.”

“I know where that is.” Helen
’s voice was hopeful.

Simon moved the coyote off the main road and released his hold on the animal.

He blinked open his eyes, saw black and white, then closed them again.

“Simon, are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine.” A couple shakes of his head and his vision cleared.

Lizzy thanked the Ancients and closed the circle with a soft puff of air that blew out the candles. Slowly they lowered to the ground.

“How far is Red Rock Canyon?”

“Couple of hours without traffic.”

Simon helped Helen to her feet. “Get a coat. We need to go now, before he moves on. We’ll take him from there to Ian and return here when we’re done.”

“Be safe,” Lizzy said.

“God’s Speed.” Cian shook Simon’s hand.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Only half the moon lit their way once they turned off the main road and into the canyon where they expected to find Philip. Helen turned off the lights of the car and cut the engine. Simon sat beside her, eyes closed.

“He’s still here.”

Simon must have been using one of the nocturnal animals to stalk their prey. Helen shivered, knowing Philip didn
’t stand a chance.

“I
’ll secure him. Call for you when I’m done.”

“He might have a weapon.”

Simon’s eyes caught hers. “A gun?”

Helen lifted her hand to her throat. The memory of Philip
’s knife scraping her skin brought on a wave of fear. “I don’t know about a gun. Certainly a knife.”

Simon captured her hand and ran a thumb along her jaw. “I would kill him with the knife he used against you.”

Without a doubt, he would. “We need him alive.”

Simon coaxed her lips open with his thumb and leaned in and captured them. His heated kiss was brief, but felt into the core of her soul. “He will regret ever touching you, lass.”

Swallowing hard she said, “I know.”

“Lower the window and listen. But stay here until I call.”

“Be careful.”

Simon raised an eyebrow and winked before removing his dirk from his side and sliding from the car. The dome light barely flickered and he was out the door and several feet away.

The call of a coyote had Helen twisting in her seat. Another high-pitched scream from the wild animals sounded in the opposite direction. A chorus of howls ripped through the silence of the night, masking any sound Simon made on his approach.

Helen smiled despite the severity of the situation and resolved herself to wait.

Not two minutes had gone by and Helen gave up.

Patience was
not
her thing.

She crawled out of the window to avoid the light filling the empty sky. Feeling a tiny bit like the stupid woman who runs into the basement knowing the boogieman was down there, Helen kept her eyes wide and her ears open. For some reason, sitting behind the wheel of her car felt more dangerous. If being with the MacCoinnich clan had taught her one thing, it was to trust her instincts. She had a gift, one that kept her safe more than not.

Sending Simon toward a lunatic alone wasn’t sitting well with her. She knew arguing the point with Simon wouldn’t get her far. He was all medieval about some things and so very modern about others, it was one of his personality quirks she loved the most about him. Like how his accent thickened when he was in warrior or lover mode. She loved it.

Helen stopped and placed a hand to her chest.

No, she loved him.

And as soon as life slowed down she
’d tell him.

If only life would cooperate.

* * * *

Philip paced on the side of the small campfire. He was cold, he stunk, and he didn
’t care too much for the coyotes roaming the desert night.

Where the hell is Malcolm?

They
’d spoken of this canyon long before they knew what the stone could do. Before their life turned to shit, they’d visited the canyon with their father. He shook away the painful memories and stared into the fire.

What the hell was he going to do?

The police wanted to question him about his brother’s disappearance. And if Helen ever appeared from wherever the hell she’d vanished, the police would want to do more than talk with him.

He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a frustrated sigh. Jesus, what was he going to do?

Another coyote howled in the distance, a little closer than the others. He twisted on his heel and narrowed his eyes in a vain attempt to see where the noise came from.

A chorus of howls called from behind him, answering the first animal
’s cry.

Were they surrounding him? Philip stood a little taller, gauged the distance to his car, and relaxed. Only a few yards. Nothing he couldn
’t manage easily if the animals wanted to attack him.

He turned back to the fire and placed his hands in front of his body to warm, to think about his situation. Usually he was the levelheaded one, the one to count on in a crunch. Yet when he
’d snatched Helen, a surge of power he hadn’t known he possessed welled up from nowhere. Damn he was screwed, really and truly fucked. Even now, days later, his cock hardened and his pulse raced as he remembered the fear in her eyes. “You’re one sick mother,” he said to himself. Still, his lips twitched into a sick grin. Maybe this was where madness began, in the dark of a desert night surrounded by coyotes and cold autumn air.

Maybe… He froze, his body doing its best impression of a wooden board, as the hair on the nape of his neck prickled. With his hand slowly reaching to his right hip pocket where he kept the knife he
’d held against Helen’s throat, his gaze drifted with slow, calculated ease. Beyond his right shoulder, by his car, was a sight that made his breath catch.

Blocking Philip
’s escape was a fierce coyote. He stood at attention, hair standing on end, and a growl rolled low from its gut.

“Oh, screw me,” he murmured as his hand slowly removed the knife. What was the protocol for chasing off wild dogs? Was he supposed to make himself big and yell, or hold still and wait for the dog to consider him a non-threat and move along?

The coyote stared him straight in the eye and pulled his lips back to bare his teeth. The growl and ensuing yip-like bark frightened Philip more than he cared to admit.

“Go!”

The coyote continued to yip and pierce the night with sound, becoming more fierce with every passing second.

Philip took an unconscious step back.

A noise behind him made him stop.

Another coyote paced to his right.

Movement to the left indicated more of the pack wanted to play.

Fear reached up and squeezed his neck in a death grip. He wouldn
’t get to the car without injury.

“Fuck off!”

The animals stepped closer, slowly.

He shoved the knife in front of him like a sword. A useless tool in his current situation. The animals would have to be on him to use it.

He twisted to his left and the coyote there lifted his face to the sky and cried. Each step away from the animal brought Philip closer to the fire. Any closer and he’d be licking burns along with the bite wounds he undoubtedly would be suffering soon.

“How does it feel to be the hunted and not the hunter?”

The question came from behind him, close to his ear, in a voice so low and deadly, Philip felt his bladder spasm and the warm liquid spilled down his leg, puddling in his boots. He spun in a circle, intending to gut the man behind the words. But with lightning speed, the man towering over him removed the knife from his grip and held it against his throat.

The night grew still. Within the sudden eerie silence only the breath Philip expelled from his lips in short, staccato pants made any sound.

He recognized the man holding the knife to his throat. He was one of Helen’s friends, one Philip remembered from casing Mrs. Dawson’s home.

“What do you want?”

The knife pushed closer to the pulsating vein in his neck.

Philip went deathly still.

Hatred rolled off Helen’s friend with physical force. He could almost feel the man’s piercing eyes drill holes into the back of his skull.

“You. Are. A. Dead. Man.”

One of the coyote’s snarled and caught the man’s attention.

“Simon?”

Philip heard Helen’s voice but didn’t dare move his head and risk having the knife slice into his flesh.

“I told you to wait in the car, lass.” The coyotes started to snarl.

“Call ‘em off,” Helen said from the darkness.

Simon glanced beyond Philip, and the knife slipped away from his neck. It could be the only chance Philip had to escape. At the distraction, he ducked and twisted, catching Simon off guard.

He managed only two yards before the force of a freight train tackled him to the ground with a warrior cry.

The world spun. A fist smashed into his face. Everything threatened to go dark. Coyotes filled the night with sound, and another fist pushed his stomach up somewhere near his heart.

Simon shoved off Philip. “Get up.”

Philip was out of his league. With one look into the man
’s eyes, he knew Simon would kill him if given a chance.

“Simon? C
’mon. We need him alive.” Helen stood a couple feet beyond them, her voice soft. Her eyes shifted from Philip then quickly back to Simon.

Philip didn
’t press for reasons.

Simon reached down and grasped Philip by his shirt, hauled him to his feet, and shook him until his teeth rattled. The fierce expression on Simon
’s face slowly slid into a grin. “We won’t need you for long, Philip.”

Helen moved behind Simon and placed a hand on his back. “We should go.”

“Aye. Let’s take this bastard where he’ll learn what happens to men who accost defenseless women.” Simon put his hand to Philip’s neck and grasped tightly. Only when Philip sputtered did Simon ease his grip.

As Simon waved his free hand around in the air, fire from the pit spread into a circle, surrounding them, and Helen started to chant.

* * * *