Highland Shifter

by Catherine Bybee

  “Animals are my gift.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that, Einstein. But how? What did you do, talk to them or something?”

  When Simon didn’t deny her crazy statement Helen shut her eyes tight. “No way.”

  “I don’t talk to them, not the way you mean, but I do understand what’s going on inside their heads. Those gorillas are used to people. They were surprised by the child’s presence inside their space, but they didn’t feel the child was a threat. Not like me. I could have easily been a threat. So I used my link to suggest that I wasn’t there to harm them and they responded.”

  Helen sucked in her lower lip. “This is crazy.”

  “I know. Imagine how I felt the first time I realized I could climb inside an animal’s mind. With some effort I can take over the animal’s actions.”

  Helen’s knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel. “Are you saying you could make an animal attack or retreat?”

  When he didn’t say anything, she glanced over and saw her answer in the depths of his gaze.

  “Oh, God.”

  “There’s more,” he said.

  She thrust her hand out, palm up. “Stop. I’m not ready for more. Okay. I’m not ready.”

  Her head already spun to the point of pain. It would take her months to sort out everything Simon was telling her, maybe even years. Her entire world was imploding around her and all she could do was watch and roll with it. It reminded her of her early days in foster care and orphanages. Every day was a new drama, a new obstacle to overcome. There was no consistency in her life, and everyone but Helen had the control.

  She hated it then. She loathed it now.

  Taking back some control, Helen started the car again and pulled out of the parking lot. They had a couple of hours to kill before they broke into Philip’s home, and Helen could use a little liquid courage.

  She drove to the nearest bar, jumped out of the car, and didn’t watch to see if Simon followed her or not.

  Chapter Eleven

  The dim interior of the bar provided a blanket over the chaos of the day. Helen had tucked herself along a far wall and was already sipping something from a glass. A couple of heads turned Simon’s way as he walked into the room. A woman behind the bar slid an appreciative gaze up and down the length of Simon’s frame and let a half smile spread over her lips. As attractive as the lass was, he didn’t have a second thought for her as he made his way to Helen’s side.

  Helen didn’t lift her eyes from her drink as he rested his arms on the table in front of them.

  A waitress started toward the table, but Simon waved her off. The lady took the hint and moved to another group of patrons who were watching one of the many sets of televisions hanging from the walls of the establishment.

  “They have pills for crazy,” Helen said over her glass. “Pills to make the crazy one feel more grounded, to feel more like they’re sane.”

  “You’re not crazy, lass.”

  She voiced a short humorless laugh and brought her glass to her lips. “Sanity is being able to judge and reason sensibly. I’m not falling into that category. Against all sensibility, not to mention everything I’ve ever been taught in life, I’m starting to believe everything you’ve been telling me since we met.” She took another swig from her glass and squinted her eyes as the amber liquid went down. “And you just jumped into a cage with wild gorillas. That’s not sane, Simon! Not sane at all.”

  “Would a mother not jump into the ocean to save her child even if she couldn’t swim?”

  “You weren’t that child’s mother.”

  “But I was the only one who could help. The boy needed someone to look out for him.”

  “Who elected you?”

  Ahh, now Simon started to see the stress ease from her eyes. Her anger stemmed from her concern for his well-being.

  “Are you afraid of cats?”

  “What? Cats?” She narrowed her eyes to his.

  “Kittens? If you were to see a child reaching to pull the tail of a cat, would you not try and stop him before he’s scratched or bitten?”

  “Kittens are harmless,” she argued. “Gorillas, not so much. I’ve watched enough Animal Planet to know they can take out a man, even one as big as you, without much effort.”

  Simon sat taller. Her unrealized stroke to his ego warmed his insides and brought a smile to his lips. “The risk of jumping in with those animals was no greater than you driving your car on the freeway.” He covered her hand with his and squeezed. “Once you know all of my talents, you’ll understand better.”

  “Really?” She tilted the glass to her lips and drained it. “Lay it on me, Simon. What else is there?”

  Her brave front was a mask, one he didn’t want to rip off in a room full of strangers. Besides, it wasn’t as if he could prove his ability to shift into an animal here in a public place.

  “Perhaps this isn’t the best time to explain.”

  She shook her head. “Of course not. Now that I’m ready, you’re not. Story of my life.” Helen raised her hand to the waitress, and pointed to her glass.

  Someone at the bar raised his voice. “That crazy son of a bitch!”

  “Would you look at that?”

  Simon glanced at the television then turned toward Helen. Helen’s eyes grew wide and she grabbed his forearm. Above the noise in the bar, Simon heard the words hero and zoo and his body froze.

  Helen’s mouth hung open, her attention riveted to the television. When he looked, Simon saw himself on an amateur video. He sat poised on the balls of his feet in a gorilla enclosure having a stare-off with a wild animal.

  “Can you believe this guy?” the waitress asked as she sat Helen’s drink on the table.

  Simon reached for the glass and drained the contents in one swallow.

  His image plastered in the media would bring unwanted stares and scrutiny, something Simon desperately wanted to avoid with his brief time in this century. Breaking into Philip Lyons home, or spying on the man would be near impossible if strangers could identify him.

  “Holy cow, that’s you!”

  A couple of patrons shifted in their chairs with the server’s outburst.

  Helen’s fingers dug into Simon’s arm.

  “Time to go.” Simon helped Helen to her feet as she reached for her purse and tossed a few bills on the table.

  “That is you, isn’t it?”

  Simon shook his head. “You wouldn’t catch me in a cage with a gorilla,” he denied. “The guy just looks like me.”

  No less than eight sets of eyes watched them as they left the bar.

  * * * *

  “It looks like the two of you have been busy,” Mrs. Dawson greeted them when they arrived at her home an hour later.

  “You saw the news?”

  “You’re quite the celebrity, Simon. What on earth possessed you to confront that beast?”

  Helen watched as Simon leaned over and kissed Mrs. Dawson’s cheek. “Saving small children is one of my many talents,” he joked.

  Mrs. Dawson blushed and patted her hand on his chest. “He’s good with kids and animals, Helen. You know what they say about that, don’t you?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” Helen had been spinning in circles since leaving the bar. Their plans to sneak into Philip’s home were on hold. “Too dangerous,” Simon had said earlier when he suggested they return to Mrs. Dawson’s where they could explore their options without as many neighbors watching.

  “He’s a keeper. Men who are good with kids and animals are a rare find.”

  As if! Simon wasn’t a stray Helen could keep. And he wouldn’t be around forever, so the whole ‘keeping’ theme was moot.

  Not that she was considering keeping anything. Getting her life back to normal...now that had a nice ring to it.

  Normal. What would that look like? Philip couldn’t be trusted, and the pendent around her neck might whisk her away to unknown times. The only way normal would occur
again is if Helen escorted Simon back to his time, returned, then found another job where her boss didn’t break into her apartment. Then things could be normal.

  Helen ignored Simon’s eyes as she placed a small suitcase by the stairs. “I’ll go get the books,” she said turning toward the door.

  “I’ll do that,” Simon said.

  Fine! Let the macho, muscle bound guy do the heavy lifting. Hell, he was probably having withdrawal not carrying around his big sword and whacking off people’s heads with it.

  Helen took Mrs. Dawson’s arm to help keep her steady as they walked into the library.

  “Are you okay, dear?”

  Helen forced a smile to her lips. “I’m fine. It’s been a crazy few days.”

  “An exciting few days I’m sure. I’ve not felt this alive in years.”

  The sparkle behind Mrs. Dawson’s brown eyes spread to the crow’s-feet beside them.

  “Excitement is fine, danger…not so much.”

  Mrs. Dawson took a seat and pulled Helen down beside her. “Danger? Who said anything about danger?”

  “Simon and I spied my boss sneaking out of my apartment.”

  Mrs. Dawson’s smile faded. “What was your boss doing there?”

  “I haven’t a clue. He broke in but didn’t take anything. Not that he’d need any of my things.”

  “Did you confront him?”

  Helen shook her head. “Simon thinks we need to watch him to see what he’s up to. Now that Simon’s mug is plastered all over channels four, five, and seven, hiding behind bushes and not getting noticed isn’t doable.”

  Simon returned to the room with boxes of books and set them on a table. “That means we need to find someone else to help determine what the man’s motivation is.”

  “But who?” Helen asked. “Mrs. Dawson’s a little too old for breaking and entering. No offense.”

  Mrs. Dawson winked. “I’m afraid you’re right about that. Though I’d have loved to try it if I were a few years younger.”

  The woman’s enthusiasm made Helen smile.

  “We can use your help by having a sanctuary in your home,” Simon said.

  “Helen is always welcome here. And you, too.”

  “Much thanks, lass. But I have to ask you to extend that welcome to others in my family.”

  Helen twisted in her chair. “Who?”

  “We need an extra set of eyes and talents I don’t possess.”

  “Any family of yours is welcome here, Simon,” Mrs. Dawson said.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Helen told her and offered a glare to Simon. The last thing she wanted was to bring any danger to Mrs. Dawson’s doorstep.

  “You worry too much,” Mrs. Dawson said. “This home is lonely. When Mr. Dawson passed away, I considered selling it and moving to a smaller, more manageable place, but something kept me from calling the realtor.”

  “I thought you said you felt closer to your husband here and wouldn’t have the same memories in a new home.”

  “That’s true, hon, but now I think there’s more to it than that. Things happen for a reason and perhaps my keeping this big house wasn’t only for me, but for others.” Mrs. Dawson smiled at Simon as she spoke.

  “My family will compensate you.”

  She waved a hand in the air. “When will I meet the others?”

  “When we return.”

  Helen’s head shot up. “Return? Have you figured out how to leave?”

  When Simon responded with only a smile, Helen’s entire body broke out in gooseflesh. He had. Her kilt wearing, animal talking, fire starting, druid, gorilla-man had figured out how to move them back in time. Which meant Helen was about to experience medieval Scotland for a second time. Oh, joy. The first was so much fun. Why not do it again?

  * * * *

  “Why do we have to leave tonight? Isn’t tomorrow soon enough?”

  Simon gathered Helen’s hands in his and forced her to look at him. “We’re told to never attempt to be in two places in one time. The sooner we return here with Amber and Cian, the easier it will be to spy on Philip. By morning, he’ll know you’re not in the hotel in Scotland and will either be returning here or searching for you there. You’ve left a trail for him in Scotland, one he’ll probably search.”

  Simon had directed Helen to call the hotel back and forward all her calls to another hotel deeper in the Highlands. Depending on how determined Philip was, he’d follow the path they’d left and deter him for a few days. Keeping him there felt safer than him searching for Helen in Los Angeles. And Mrs. Dawson didn’t need danger on her doorstep without Simon there to protect her.

  “But tomorrow is only a few hours away.”

  He could see the fear in her eyes. “I’ll protect you, lass.”

  “But—”

  Simon placed a finger over her lips. “My solution to move us back may not work.” It would work, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Simon’s mother Lizzy had drilled into him how she and Fin had returned to the sixteenth century with only one stone. The words of her chant drifted in his head like the lyrics to the birthday song.

  “You don’t think it will work?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Oh, God.”

  “I’d go if I wasn’t needed here to make my spare bedrooms presentable.” Mrs. Dawson stood by the back door of the house as she spoke.

  The old were always more adventurous than the young. People would argue the opposite, but Simon had seen enough in his short life to argue the point. Life was too short. Taking risks was the only way to really live.

  Simon loved risk.

  Helen would too if he could find a way to calm her down.

  He grasped her hand and pulled her out the back door of Mrs. Dawson’s home. On the back porch, Simon leaned over and kissed Mrs. Dawson’s cheek. “We’ll call you when we’re back. I’ve left my dirk in the room you’ve allowed me to use, this will guide the way for my family to come without me if they need to.”

  Mrs. Dawson nodded and Simon kissed her cheek again.

  He stood back as Helen pulled the older woman into her arms. “I’m doing the right thing, right?”

  “Oh, dear, you’ve the best tour guide with you. I’m jealous. Make sure you bring him back in a kilt.”

  Helen chuckled. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, dear.”

  The foliage surrounding Mrs. Dawson’s backyard and the mile of distance of her nearest neighbor gave Simon the privacy he needed.

  Helen’s hand shook in his as he led her away from the house. Lizzy had spoken of the power of Druid blood and how it aided her return. Helen wouldn’t like what Simon was about to do. “I need your hand.”

  Helen lifted her left hand and he removed a small knife he’d retrieved from Mrs. Dawson’s kitchen.

  “What’s that for?”

  “We only need a few drops.” He lifted the blade to her finger and she tugged away.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “You need to trust me.”

  She sucked in her lower lip and thrust her hand to his again. He made a small cut in her finger and did the same to his. After tucking the knife in his pocket, he gathered both their hands and squeezed small drops of blood in a circle around them.

  Once he completed the small circle, he willed fire to leap from his fingers and catch into a ring. Helen pushed closer to his frame, the heat of her skin met his. Her breath caught and her breasts pushed against the fabric of her shirt. With his non-bleeding hand, Simon pulled her softly into his embrace. “Trust me.”

  Something flickered in her eyes and Simon placed her bleeding finger and his, to the pendant on her neck. Then he began to speak. “In this night and in this hour, we ask the Ancients for this power. Send us now across the sea, to be back with my family. If the Ancients will it so, send us now and let us go.”

  A familiar rumble of the earth jolted beneath them and fear raced through Helen’s body.

  Simon did the only t
hing he could think of to distract her.

  He leaned forward and melted his lips to hers.

  Chapter Twelve

  The world exploded around her. Unlike the last time Simon had kissed her, this time felt safe, rational, and more grounded than the falling earth. The palm of his hand flattened against hers as their bodies plunged into time. The soft dance of his lips parted hers until his tongue explored deeper. The rush of noise around them grew as it had before but all Helen could hear was the pounding of her own heart and the rushing of blood through her veins.

  The long, firm length of Simon’s hardened body pressed so close she couldn’t move a finger without touching him somewhere. He was delicious, smooth, and infinitely more experienced at kissing and distraction than Helen ever thought she’d be.

  She felt his thigh push between hers and her hips surged forward with a will of their own. A deep coil of desire produced a moan against Simon’s lips.

  The world quieted around them, and Helen’s body felt as if it were wrapped in a warm, soft cloud. Simon’s hand lifted from her neck to her cheek. He broke away from her lips, and Helen slowly opened her eyes to find him staring. She moved to lift her arm but found it wedged between Simon and something. She tugged again and turned her head. Helen’s face met with a soft pillow.

  They had landed in a bed, with Simon’s knee wedged intimately between her legs.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and deep in his chest.

  She glanced beyond his shoulder, ignoring their tangled limbs, and noticed the cold stone walls and high ceilings. The bed was nothing like she’d slept in before. Massive wood posts framed a mattress of some sort. Across the room was an empty, dark fireplace and sitting chair arranged in front of it.

  “Where are we?”

  He smiled and pulled in a deep full breath as if he was tasting fresh air for the first time in years. “Home,” he sighed.

  “Scotland?”

  “Aye.”

  Another rumble sounded behind the wooden door and Simon’s body stiffened.

  The door crashed open and several people stormed the room all at once.