“I hate that I can’t see a thing inside your head, Kincaid. Something is working for you,” Giles said.
He stepped back over the threshold and motioned for Simon to follow.
“I have an idea,” he said when they moved to the second floor landing.
“What?” Simon asked.
Instead of answering, Kincaid decided to demonstrate. “What is Giles thinking about?”
Simon stared at Giles. “He’s worried, as we all are.”
“No. What’s he really thinking?”
Simon winced and closed his eyes. “That her death is inevitable.”
Right. “Now, what am I thinking?”
This time Simon stared with thinly veiled hatred sparking from his eyes. “Nothing. I…what’s the point, Kincaid? Amber is dying. We don’t have time for games.”
Kincaid lowered his shield and stepped closer to the man. He expanded his shield and surrounded the other warrior. “Now, what am I thinking?”
His right eye twitched as Simon peered close and tickled the edges of Kincaid’s brain. “You can shield her.”
“I can try. The fix will be temporary and I have to be close to her. But maybe it will give Giles time to find a cure.”
The twitch in his brain expanded as Simon searched for more answers. Not liking the sensation, Kincaid narrowed his shield and shut the man out.
“What are the risks?”
“For Amber? Nothing worse than her immediate death if it doesn’t work.”
Funny how Simon didn’t bother asking what the risk to him was. There wasn’t any guarantee the noise inside Amber’s head wouldn’t transfer to him, destroying them both.
Chapter Eight
Simon consoled his wife while Kincaid moved around to the far side of the bed. He removed the sword strapped to his back and set it beside the table.
“What’s he doing?” Helen asked.
“Trying to help.”
A fish swimming in a round bowl would have had nothing on all the eyes in the room watching him.
He eased his frame to the edge of the bed and felt his weight dip into the mattress. The closer he moved to Amber, the higher his heart rate soared. In times of flight, he’d expand his shield and suck travelers with him into a vortex of time. This was different.
The tight grip on his shield loosened in small degrees. Not because he feared what would happen to him, but his fear of what it might do to her.
Okay Amber MacCoinnich…I’m going to invade your space for a little while. He sighed and expanded the shield again. If he looked hard enough, he could see a shimmering blue light expand from his body and pulsate out as he moved the barrier between him and the world. As the tip of Amber’s finger breached his circle, he felt a tug and noticed the blue rim grip hold of her hand and pull. A small tremor of fear surged over him when he tried to pull back his shield just to see if he could, only to find it unyielding.
Kincaid concentrated on her hand, thought he saw one of her fingers twitch. He placed a hand next to hers and she moved again.
Energy rushed over him and the light of his shield sparked.
Everyone in the room gasped.
When Kincaid let go, the shield he liked to call his own, poured over Amber and molded itself to her frame. It hugged her like a robe, nothing like Kincaid had ever seen before.
Amber’s chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh. When her finger lifted, Kincaid reached out and touched her. The molded shield expanded with his touch and bubbled them both inside.
His heart gave a massive kick in his chest as the unconscious emotions of the woman at his side slid into him. He released an unmanly moan as his head filled with pain. Her pain. Bracing a hand to her side to keep from crushing her, he closed his eyes and attempted to absorb the impact, deflect it…survive it.
His eyeballs were on fire and the flesh on his bones felt as if someone was dripping acid and eating away all rational thought.
How did she survive this?
“Kincaid?” Dread filled Giles’s voice.
He shook his head. “I’m—” he swallowed down bile, felt a wave pass only to return.
“What’s happening?”
Inside Amber’s head, he heard her respond to the distress of Helen’s voice.
“Shh!”
“Is she okay?” Helen franticly asked.
His gut rolled as if he’d been hit with a spiked medieval hammer.
“For God’s sake, woman, shut up,” Kincaid ordered.
As those in the room held their collective breath. The pain slowly eased. He tightened the shield around them and attempted to thicken the barrier. The slow process left him breathless with sweat pooling on his brow.
He opened his eyes and noticed Amber’s hand tighten around his. She hadn’t woken, but he could feel her. Her soft breath washed over his skin with every exhale, her heart stopped its uneven rhythm and found a comfortable pace.
When Kincaid looked to the others in the room, he noted that the sun had started to set, casting long shadows in the room.
“She’s resting now,” he told them.
“Is she okay?” Helen asked.
He felt a kick in his head. It was as if the words triggered something inside of Amber and made her panic.
“She is for now. She needs to rest and heal. Maybe by morning I’ll be able to let go of her hand.”
Giles offered a small smile. “How do you feel?”
“Better than ever,” he lied.
Giles shook his head. “I’ll return to the library. Can I get you anything?”
The old woman pulled herself to her feet and spoke for the first time. “Come, Helen…let’s prepare something to eat for our guest. Have something here for Amber when she wakes.”
The woman’s soothing voice brought a blanket over Amber and filled Kincaid with warmth.
Kincaid offered the woman a smile and was greeted with one in return. He realized then he didn’t know her name.
As if she read his mind she said, “I’m Mrs. Dawson.”
That would make sense, as the Manor was named after the original owner. “A pleasure.”
Mrs. Dawson limped from the room with the use of a cane and followed Helen out.
Simon stood to follow the others. He hesitated at the door and stared down at the both of them. “Let me know when she wakes.”
“I will.”
“The pain inside her…was it…”
Kincaid shook his head. “I don’t know how she survived it.”
Simon swallowed. “I’m one floor down.”
“I’ll call out if we need you.”