Ronan sucked in a deep breath and rubbed his knuckles against his goose-bumped thighs. Anticipation, excitement, and fear of the unknown rippled another chill across his skin. He struggled to control the growing urge to throw back his head and howl. He cleared his throat instead. “My plaid and tunic have always survived the shifting, even when I held them in my arms. I fail t’see why they would no’ survive this one.”
Granny frowned as her gaze followed the tiny rivulets of water trickling down Ronan’s sides. “You said when you shift your body becomes engulfed in flames. Do you douse your clothes in water before every shifting or just make sure they’re held at arm’s reach?” Befuddlement reflected in her eyes as her focus lifted from the soaked straps of leather across Ronan’s chest to his face. “Come to think of it, how in the world do you keep from burning down everything around you?”
A groan escaped him as Ronan scrubbed one hand across his face. “The fire burns, but it never consumes. ’Tis the raging energy of my spirit as I pass between forms—an unnatural and heatless blaze.”
“Well, why the hell didn’t you tell me that before I spent the last three hours trying to make sure everything was water-soaked and protected from fire?”
“Did it ever occur to ye to ask?” Ronan rose, pulled his body free of the wet leather straps, and dumped the soaked pack to the ground. This was not the way such an important journey should start. An ill omen, perhaps?
Granny’s scowl darkened, while her trembling fists twisted the folds of her skirt.
Lore a’mercy. The old woman was about to strike him. Ronan returned his hands to shielding his most prized parts, and took a step back. Honor demanded he respect and accede to the old woman’s wishes. Honor did not require him to sacrifice his bollocks.
“Do you have another plaid to take with you?” Granny’s nostrils flared and her thin cheeks reddened. “A dry plaid, perhaps?” ’Twas a wonder he wasna reduced to a pile of smoldering ash from the look she gave him.
“Aye.” Ronan nodded toward a neatly trussed bundle leaning against the bench. “I didna ken what ye planned, so I brought extra supplies.”
“Good.” Granny huffed something indistinguishable under her breath and bent to pick up her staff. “Then wrap it around your bare ass and prepare yourself. It’s time.” She trundled to the edge of the clearing, all the while grumbling to herself.
Ronan opened the pack and shook out the dark wool cloth tucked in the middle of the supplies. He ran his thumbs across the heavy coarseness of the winter weave. His heart got the strange feeling it always did when he stopped to ponder the bit of cloth that held so much meaning.
A background of darkest gray was shot with alternating wide and narrow crisscrossed bands of black. Then a single stripe, almost so narrow as to be overlooked, made of silver white threads, raced its way in and out through the dark bands like a mist winding through the trees. His colors. The dark bands for his father, the gray for the curse, and the silver for his mother. He held his history in his hands. With a few quick turns, Ronan wound the plaid about his body. Somehow, he always felt stronger cradled in his colors.
Ronan secured the remaining supplies he’d packed for the journey and slung them over one shoulder. “I’m ready.” Thankfully, his voice didna sound as unsure as he felt.
Granny pointed to the reflecting pool surrounded with a ring of brush already crackling with flames. “The portal is also ready and the path along the web is true. When my hand drops, time will stop and the flames will freeze. At that time, you must leap into the circle. Hurry now. I can speak no more lest the direction of the portal shift with the path of the moon.”
Granny’s knuckles whitened as she gripped her staff and turned away from the pool. She held one hand above her head, her bent fingers tensed. The blue crystal atop her staff hummed as a spark of white exploded at its center. The pulsating light grew and strengthened, setting the crystal on fire.
Ronan edged closer to the roaring flames. It had to be soon now. The air was so thick with pulsing energy it stung across his flesh. A dull thud then a deep monotone hum growled from the center of the pool. The dancing flames licking around the water’s edge slowed their movements, strained upward toward the moon, then solidified with a crackling pop that sounded like shifting ice across a loch.
Ronan glanced back at Granny. The fingers of her raised hand trembled then stretched open wide. Then, like a guillotine, her hand swiftly dropped.
It was time. Ronan sucked in a deep breath and jumped.
Chapter 2
TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY SCOTLAND
EDINBURGH
“You’re late. Again. They’re gonna fire your ass.”
“Don’t start with me, Lilia.” Mairi Sinclair dumped her bulging work tote at the base of the back stair opening into the kitchen. “It’s not my fault this time.”
Her twin sister, who neither looked nor acted anything like her, didn’t look up from the electronic tablet propped against her breakfast bowl of fruit. “You’re always late and it’s always your fault. Why would this morning be any different?” With one finger flicking through the paragraphs streaming down the screen, Lilia absentmindedly patted the other hand over to the bowl of fruit, fished out a handful of berries, and popped them in her mouth.
“Granny.” Knowing her sister would immediately comprehend exactly what she meant without further explanation, Mairi didn’t bother to continue. There wasn’t time. Granny had kept her awake all night, nagging about jumping back to the thirteenth century. When she’d finally stuffed cotton in her ears and managed to muffle Granny long enough to fall asleep, the unrelenting woman had somehow managed to show up in her dreams and continue the lecture. “And where’s Eliza this morning?”
Lilia slowly pulled her attention away from her reading, glancing around the kitchen as though she just realized where she was. “I don’t think she’s down yet. I haven’t seen her this morning. Why?”
“Because she and Granny are plotting—big-time.” Mairi plunked her travel mug down beside the coffeemaker, lifted the empty pot, and held it up to her sister. “You couldn’t leave me one cup? One. Stinking. Cup?” She’d barely clocked a couple of hours of sleep. Without at least a gallon of caffeine, she’d never make it through a double shift at the hospital. Dammit, this is gonna be one hell of a day.
“Geez, you’re pissy this morning.” Lilia rose from the table, tucked the reading tablet into the hot pink briefcase on the table, and took the pot from Mairi. “Another pot won’t take but a second. Besides, as late as you are, I don’t see how it really matters anyway. If the hospital hasn’t fired you by now, maybe they won’t fire you today. Sit down and tell me what Granny and Eliza have done this time.”
“I don’t have time to sit.” Mairi leaned back against the kitchen cabinets, massaging her fingers into the muscles knotted at the base of her neck. She was exhausted—and tensed tighter than a whore in church. Granny had not only kept the fire portal in the small hearth in her bedroom wide open, her image and voice echoing loud and clear from the coals of the dying fire, she’d even gone so far as to project her rant through the heat vents in the bathroom and the study as though the newly installed ductwork of the old Victorian house was a freaking intercom system between centuries.
Granny had lectured for hours. No. She’d not lectured. She’d accused and shamed her, dumping on the guilt by the gallons. Mairi rubbed the burning corners of her tired eyes. I am not shirking my heritage, ignoring my destiny, or shunning my damn family. Granny had spared nothing. She’d used every form of emotional ammo at her disposal. Shunned and turned my back on the family. Those were the words that had stung the most. How could Granny say such a thing?
“She refuses to understand.” Mairi pushed away from the counter, pacing back and forth in front of the quietly gurgling coffeemaker. “I don’t belong in the thirteenth century—I just don’t.” She jabbed a finger at the floor. “I belong here.”
Lilia didn’t say a word, just thought
fully sipped on a huge mug of coffee—the last damn cup of coffee, which she should’ve shared.
Mairi hit the counter with a frustrated thump. She might be a Sinclair time runner, able to skate back and forth across centuries at will, but that didn’t mean she had to give up all the niceties of the future to take up permanent residence in the past. Why couldn’t they all settle in different centuries? It wasn’t like they couldn’t jump time and visit one another whenever they wanted. It was no different from normal families living scattered around the globe and only seeing one another on special occasions. Whatever the hell normal is. “Even with modern medicine—my healing abilities are just as needed here.”
Granny had used that angle in her argument as well. Each daughter of the time-runner clan possessed additional gifts as well as the ability to travel across time. Mairi’s particular specialty was healing with just a touch—so long as the Fates agreed with her actions and granted their approval.
Lilia remained silent. She simply stood there with that doe-eyed stare that pissed Mairi off even more. Lilia’s gift from the Fates was visions—that and she was an empath. Mairi flung her hands into the air. “I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation. Not only are you capable of visions, you’re an empath. You feel what I’m feeling. You should already know what’s going on without my having to spell it out.”
“Coffee’s ready. Fill your cup. Get some caffeine in you and let’s go.” Lilia scooped her briefcase up from the table. “You know how Granny is once she sets her mind to something and you know Eliza is going to help her battle from this side of the time portal. Why do you let them bother you?”
“Because…” Mairi stalled out, her thoughts and emotions log-jamming the words. Because Granny had sacrificed so much for them—saved their lives and in the process put all her own hopes and dreams on hold until all four of the sisters were nearly grown. Because Eliza had loved them as her own, taking them under her wing when Granny finally returned to the thirteenth century to be with the man she’d left behind. Because even though the two old women drove her insane, she loved them dearly and couldn’t imagine life without them.
“Because?” Lilia prompted, holding open the door to the stairs leading down into the garage.
“You know, ‘because.’ You’re not stupid.” Mairi took a sip of the scalding hot coffee, flinching against burning her tongue as she replaced the lid on her travel cup. “I know what I want to do with my life, but it’s not exactly meshing with Granny’s plans.” Mairi stopped, staring down at the worn wooden steps. “And I feel like a damn traitor.”
Lilia yanked open the car door, glancing back as she spoke. “You talked to Trulie and Kenna about staying here. Right?” She chugged her briefcase into the back of the car then plopped into the passenger seat.
“Yes,” Mairi said as she slid behind the wheel.
“And they said?”
“They said they understood.” Mairi started the car, rubbing her chilled fingers together as she waited for the engine to warm. Winter was coming and it was a damp, chilly Edinburgh day. The memory of Kenna’s flippant response to her quandary eased her tensed muscles a notch. “Kenna told me they were doing their damnedest to keep Granny’s mind off me by popping out more babies for her to cuddle.”
Lilia smiled. “I’ve got to hop back soon and get in on some of that major spoiling action myself.”
The digital clock on the dashboard clicked and flashed, cranking her tension back up a notch. Crap on crackers. Over an hour and a half late and she still had to drop Lilia off at her organic beauty shop.
Mairi bit her lip, glaring down at the engine dial, willing it to peg over to the warm side faster. Who was charge nurse on shift today? Mairi thought back over the revised schedule. Charge Nurse Fiona. Thankfully, the grandmotherly woman had pretty much adopted her, so today’s butt chewing for her perpetual tardiness shouldn’t be too painful. Fiona knew she was always late. She just couldn’t seem to help it, and sweet, motherly Fiona didn’t seem to mind—at least not too very much.
The high-pitched hum of the automobile’s engine settled into a low, steady purr as toasty warm air finally blasted out of the vents. Mairi aimed one of the blowers toward her feet, and in the rearview mirror watched the garage door slowly rise. “Well, dammit.”
Lilia looked up from her ever-present smartphone. “What?”
“It’s sleeting. That’ll slow us down even more.” Just what I need to make this day worse. Sleet-covered roads would be slicker than penguin shit on ice. Mairi switched on the wipers and re-aimed the heat toward the windshield. She’d have fun scraping ice off her windshield at the end of her shift tonight too. Pinging sleet rattled a chilly good morning against the car as she backed out into the street.
Squinting through the deluge, Mairi picked up speed. Apparently it hadn’t been sleeting long. Ice hadn’t coated the roads yet. The cobbled bricks of the historic street seemed to be only wet. Good. She just might reach the hospital before the two-hours-late mark. If she cut over to Princes Street Gardens, she could shave off even more of her lateness. During the wee hours of Edinburgh’s early morning, that would be the speediest route to Lilia’s stop and then on to the hospital. Mairi zipped up a side street and cut a hard left.
A silver gray blur cleared a low stone wall and charged into the street.
Lilia lunged forward, slapping both hands on the dash. “Don’t hit that dog!”
“Shit!” Mairi slammed the brake pedal to the floor. She cringed at the sickening thump-bump-bump against the left front of the car. Dammit all to hell. She’d hit the dog. Mairi killed the engine and bolted out the door. It had happened so fast. There was no way she could’ve swerved and missed it.
Mairi’s heart knotted up in her throat as she eased around to the front of the car. Double damn dammit. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of what she’d been unable to avoid. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she knelt beside the motionless body.
“Is it…” Lilia squatted down beside Mairi.
“I don’t know.” Mairi moved around to the front of the dog and peered closer at its rain-slicked head. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly ajar. Tongue relaxed and hanging out one side of the beast’s mouth. It didn’t look good. She swallowed hard and hesitated. She had to touch it. Had to check for a heartbeat. No way could she just take off and leave the poor animal in the road like a discarded rag doll.
Mairi smoothed her hand up the furry rib cage and pressed into the warm softness where the canine’s limp foreleg joined its chest. A faint heartbeat tickled beneath her fingertips, along with something more. Something strange…a gentle zap of energy that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Mairi rolled back on her heels and scrubbed her still-tingling palm up and down her thigh. What the hell was that?
“Oh no. Is it too late?” Lilia’s voice broke as she wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks and sniffed.
Mairi stared down at the huge motionless dog. She flexed her hand against the unbelievable sensation, shaking her head as she turned to Lilia’s worried gaze. “No. Not yet. I felt a heartbeat. Go get the emergency blanket out of the car and fold down the backseat. We’ve got to get him out of the road before I can try to save him.”
Lilia sprinted back to the car.
Mairi quickly glanced around the vacant street. Thank heavens it was too early for many to be about, but that wouldn’t last for long. They had to get the dog out of the street before anyone else came along and called the authorities to put the poor beast out of its misery. Mairi rubbed her still-tingling hand against her thigh. She had to save this dog. It wasn’t just some stray. This animal was…special. She couldn’t explain it, but she damn sure felt it in her heart.
Boots splatted through the puddles behind her, then Lilia nudged her with the heavy wool of the emergency blanket always kept in the car. “He’s a pretty good-size dog. Do you think we’ll be able to get him in the back of the car?”
“We’ve got no choice.”
Mairi swiped the back of her hand against the steady barrage of sleet stinging her face. She had to find out what was different about this animal. The surprising energy of the beast, the odd sensation that had surged up into her hand, had felt as though a kindred spirit had just reached out and connected with her soul. Had the Fates sent him to her as some sort of animal guardian—like Trulie’s dog, Karma, and Granny’s cat, Kismet? If so, why? Only firstborn daughters of the time-runner generation were granted guardians. She and Lilia were the youngest of the four.
“How ’bout if we spread the blanket behind him and then carefully roll him back on it?” Lilia’s knuckles whitened on the end of the blanket she held clenched between her hands.
“Perfect. But we’ve got to hurry. Edinburgh’s morning crowd will soon be hitting the streets.” Mairi grabbed the other end of the blanket and helped Lilia spread it behind the dog. Lilia bent and supported the animal’s head and shoulders while Mairi slid her hands underneath the canine’s hindquarters.
“Thanks for giving me the end with the teeth.” Lilia grunted as she lifted and sidled sideways toward the blanket.
“He’s not going to hurt us.” Mairi had no idea how she knew that, but she just did. Maybe that knowing was somehow built into the strange sensation that had greeted her when she’d felt the dog’s heartbeat. “I don’t think rolling him was a good idea either. I’m glad you went for the lift and shift instead.”
Gently, they settled the motionless beast on the center of the blanket. Wrapping the corners of the heavy wool cloth around their hands, Mairi and Lilia lifted in unison and shuffled toward the rear of the car.
“Holy crap, he weighs a ton.” Lilia grunted and strained to wrap the corners of the blankets tighter around her fists. “With that long narrow nose, he reminds me of a wolf. What breed do you think he is?” she huffed, scuttling across the sidewalk with the heavy burden.
My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3) Page 3