They both knew those who couldn’t control their time travel couldn’t be trusted.

“Giles told me about warriors from the future. Men and women…all Druid, who weave in and out of time to protect the family, our secrets. But there are others, too, who attempt to undo what these warriors protect.” One of his shoes hit the floor followed by the other.

“More Grainnas out there?”

Simon’s jaw tightened. “None as powerful. But it seems Giles and his people keep those who wish to be like her from gaining power.”

“There’s good and evil with every race. I guess it’s too much to ask for all Druids to get along.”

Simon reached for his jeans.

“Hey!” Selma shot a hand in the air. “What are you doing?”

He stopped his hand at his zipper and delivered a dimpled grin. “I’m going in with you, but you’ll do all the talking. Ask this guy who he is, who his people are…why he’s here. I’ll determine if he’s telling the truth.”

Then, without removing his pants, Simon winked and shifted form. A small flash of light illuminated his body and before Selma could say abracadabra, a four legged fur ball climbed out of Simon’s jeans and jumped in her lap with a loud meow.

Selma knew he was a shifter, but she’d never seen him shift in person. “Wow!”

Cat-Simon meowed again.

Without thought, Selma gave his head a pat. “Can you understand me?”

A strange sense of crazy washed over her when Simon nodded and nudged her hand toward the door.

“Here goes nothing.”

She stepped out of the car and lifted Simon into her arms. “I’ll let you down when I get inside,” she told him. “Cats don’t follow people.”

Simon meowed again when she rapped on Jake’s door a few seconds later.

Jake flung open the door and met her eyes. She tried to ignore the skip of her heartbeat every time she saw the man. Didn’t matter how good looking he was, he was an arrogant ass most of the time.

“’Bout time you got here. Who’s this?” he asked looking at Simon.

“Every witch needs a cat,” she said as she pushed past him and into the house.

Simon scratched her arm and she instantly let him go.

“So, where’s this visitor?”

Chapter Seven

So this is the cop’s Druid back up? Kincaid attempted a smile, knew it wasn’t his strong point, and decided to drop the act.

He let his eyes travel over the petite woman who couldn’t be much more than five feet five…he noted her spiky heels and decided she was closer to five feet two. Her curly red hair exploded from a clip and framed her freckled nose. Her green eyes and the hand on her hip told him she either had Irish or Scottish blood running thick in her veins.

“So you’re future-boy?” She directed her sarcastic question his way, sweeping a glance over his frame, and dismissed him with a tiny shake of her head. “Must not be very powerful if you’re carrying all that firepower on your hip.”

She talked big, but he couldn’t tell by just looking at her if she could back up her words with a set of powers of her own. He felt a tremor of power in the room, but with his shield up he couldn’t tell how strong it was.

“It’s never good to show all your cards,” he told her.

The cat she brought in circled her feet for a few seconds before disappearing behind the couch.

“Well, future-boy…who are you and why are you here?”

Jake stood beside her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m Kincaid. I’m here searching for a friend.”

“Who?”

His first instinct was to hold his tongue. He did and the room grew silent.

“Not going to tell me?”

“I have no idea if I can trust you,” he stated the obvious.

“And we don’t know if we can trust you. The time travelers I’ve met all knew when and where they were going. They didn’t end up in a random location.”

She had him there. “What’s your name, Irish?”

“Half Irish, half Scot.”

Beside her Jake huffed out a laugh. “And half witch.”

She rolled her eyes. “Selma Mayfair.”

“Selma?” The name tickled his memory and then he realized why. “A direct descendant of Elizabeth and Finlay.”

The snarky expression fell from her face. Obviously, she had no knowledge of her very distant heritage. Lucky for him, Giles traced several names down and Selma was used in every generation for centuries.

The cat circled his legs and snarled at the barrier of his shield.

“My parents aren’t Liz and Fin.”

“I didn’t say they were. I said descendant. But since you’ve used Elizabeth and Finlay’s familiar names, I assume you know who I’m talking about.”

The cat bumped up against him again. Instead of letting the cat bring attention to his shield, he allowed the feline to move closer. The small lift of his protection brought on a wave of power that stole his breath.

“Listen, Kincaid…you need to start trusting me here. Start talking. Who are you looking for?”

He shifted on the balls of his feet and felt a snap in the air. Was that Selma?

“Before I tell you anything, I need to know what you know about Liz and Fin.”

Jake took a step forward. “Listen, ass**le…you came to us—”

The other man didn’t finish his sentence before the space inside his shield expanded and sparked. Within a blink of an eye, the cat at his feet shifted and Kincaid found his neck in the tight grip of a very large, very naked warrior. His angry eyes and set jaw told Kincaid he’d have no problem snapping him in two.

Jesus…a shifter. That’s rare.

“Elizabeth is my mother, Finlay my father…now answer the lass. Who are you looking for?”

Kincaid stared into the eyes of a MacCoinnich. A man he was sworn to protect. “Giles,” he choked out.

The grip on his throat eased.

“Who is this Giles to you?”

“He’s a librarian.” If the man holding him was anyone other than a MacCoinnich, Kincaid would have him at arm’s length. Instead of engaging a fight, he calmly answered this man’s questions. “He’s a friend.”

“What are you?”

The question would have sounded odd to an outsider, but to Kincaid it was about rank. “I’m a warrior. A branded warrior.”

The hand holding him eased now, but it hadn’t slid away from his neck.