Highland Protector
Page 30
“Yeah.”
The thought sunk in. “How is that working out?”
“I-I don’t really know. It’s not like I can pull her aside and ask what she’s thinking... or how he’s behaving.”
“Is he being cool about it? I can’t imagine what he’s thinking.”
“He’s probably thinking he’s stuck. He let her go for a moment yesterday and she was instantly ill.” Helen lowered her voice and placed a hand over Selma’s. “Between you and me…I think he’s the guy Lora told her about.”
“The one who saves her?”
“Has to be. She’s different around him. She smiles. Can carry on a conversation.”
Selma couldn’t remember being in the woman’s presence for more than an hour in the past. “The emotional pull of others is gone?”
“Dormant, I think. Certainly tolerable. What her gift should be, if you ask me. Simon told me she was like this years ago. Before Grainna.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Helen’s sigh told Selma her friend wasn’t so sure. “What?”
“I’m worried. Something happened yesterday, right before Kincaid let her go that makes me think something awful is going to happen very soon.”
Her own forbearing of the day’s events sent shivers over her. “What happened?”
“Amber and Kincaid were outside walking. A crow watched them and freaked Amber out.”
“Crows are often mistaken as a bad omen. That doesn’t mean anything.”
Helen shook her head. “No. This crow wasn’t alone and was controlled by someone. A Druid. They were watching them. Kincaid told us that in the future this house is filled with Druids in order to fight off Others.”
“Others…what others?”
“Druids not leading noble lives. People who found out about us. Oh, I don’t know. It sounds like this house is a fortress for those inside. He suggested we start to build that stronghold now. This morning, he encouraged Simon to acquire the funds to buy out the neighbors’ properties.”
“Seriously?”
Helen nodded. “In his time, the fortress is four times as large. The property anyway. The house changes, but it’s the walls around the place that extend to damn near the interstate.”
“That’s five miles away.”
“I know.”
Selma sat back...paused. “Makes sense.”
“Does it?”
“Yeah…if Amber wasn’t surrounded by the neighbors maybe she wouldn’t be having such a hard time.”
Helen frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“None of us did. With the recession and the prices of houses dropping like crazy, now would be the perfect time to buy. Maybe the buffer will help in the future.”
Selma thought for a while then asked, “So who controlled the crows?”
“We have no idea,” Helen told her. “It seriously bugged Kincaid. And I don’t think that guy bugs easily.”
“He’s a big man with big weapons.”
“And a huge power. His shield is stronger than a vault in Fort Knox.”
“Really?” Selma asked.
“Yeah.”
They sat there for a few minutes, both staring away from each other and not speaking.
Helen snapped her head toward her and held her stomach at the same time. “Why are you here?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“No…but you’re not here by accident.”
The problem with having her world filled with Druids was the realization that secrets were impossible to keep. “I feel like someone is watching me. I’m being paranoid.” Selma told her about the email, about the post office. “Paranoid. The guy in the post office didn’t look at me twice.”
“Never disregard your sixth sense.”
Funny, the quote was one Selma has used in her book. “I know. Which is why I’m here I guess. I’d have bothered Jake, but he’s at work.”
Helen lifted her eyebrows a few times. “Jake, huh?”
They talked about him, his stoic disposition, and general “assholiness”.
“You can always stay here,” Helen told her. “I’m sure Mrs. Dawson wouldn’t mind.”
“I couldn’t.”
Helen shook her head. “Maybe when Amber was plagued with all our feelings you needed to stay away…but not anymore.”
“The guy in the email is just ticked his girl hooked up with someone else and I’m just being paranoid. I know it.”
“I don’t know, Selma. There’s a reason you’re here, and I don’t think it’s paranoia.”
Selma painted on a smile and pretended to blow off the feeling of being watched.
****
Hours later, after visiting with Amber, Future-Boy, and his friend, Giles, Selma returned home and worked her way into her evening routine. She popped her dinner into the microwave and tossed a salad while she watched the evening news.
“…the scene was out of a Hollywood macabre script,” the reporter said. “Although the police aren’t reporting details of the crime scene, it’s safe to say the blood-bath reported by the neighbor had ritual written all over it.”
Selma lowered the salad dressing in her hand and willed the volume of the TV to increase.
Police activity outside an apartment building filled the screen. The coroner pushed a gurney past the camera, and a second one followed.
Selma blinked and turned back to her dinner.
“This kind of horror hasn’t affected Bullhead City in years.”
Her gaze snapped back to the screen.
“The ties to Southern California stem from the male victim. Victor Morales was a veteran of the Army once based at Camp Pendleton. His friends say he’d recently re-united with his high school sweetheart, and the two planned to marry. Instead of their families celebrating their union, they will be planning their funerals.”
Liquid dripped down her arm, and Selma noticed the dressing emptying from the bottle.
Her sixth sense raced up her spine, edging toward terror. The news switched to the weather as if the people in the previous story meant nothing.
Selma dropped the empty blue cheese dressing bottle, snatched her purse from the counter, and ran out of her apartment.
Aware of everyone, everything around her, she managed to shove into the driver’s seat of her car and turn the key.
Without direction, she found herself in front of Jake’s home standing at the front door with salad dressing sticking to her fingers. She kept looking behind her as noise from inside Jake’s home caught her attention.
The thought sunk in. “How is that working out?”
“I-I don’t really know. It’s not like I can pull her aside and ask what she’s thinking... or how he’s behaving.”
“Is he being cool about it? I can’t imagine what he’s thinking.”
“He’s probably thinking he’s stuck. He let her go for a moment yesterday and she was instantly ill.” Helen lowered her voice and placed a hand over Selma’s. “Between you and me…I think he’s the guy Lora told her about.”
“The one who saves her?”
“Has to be. She’s different around him. She smiles. Can carry on a conversation.”
Selma couldn’t remember being in the woman’s presence for more than an hour in the past. “The emotional pull of others is gone?”
“Dormant, I think. Certainly tolerable. What her gift should be, if you ask me. Simon told me she was like this years ago. Before Grainna.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Helen’s sigh told Selma her friend wasn’t so sure. “What?”
“I’m worried. Something happened yesterday, right before Kincaid let her go that makes me think something awful is going to happen very soon.”
Her own forbearing of the day’s events sent shivers over her. “What happened?”
“Amber and Kincaid were outside walking. A crow watched them and freaked Amber out.”
“Crows are often mistaken as a bad omen. That doesn’t mean anything.”
Helen shook her head. “No. This crow wasn’t alone and was controlled by someone. A Druid. They were watching them. Kincaid told us that in the future this house is filled with Druids in order to fight off Others.”
“Others…what others?”
“Druids not leading noble lives. People who found out about us. Oh, I don’t know. It sounds like this house is a fortress for those inside. He suggested we start to build that stronghold now. This morning, he encouraged Simon to acquire the funds to buy out the neighbors’ properties.”
“Seriously?”
Helen nodded. “In his time, the fortress is four times as large. The property anyway. The house changes, but it’s the walls around the place that extend to damn near the interstate.”
“That’s five miles away.”
“I know.”
Selma sat back...paused. “Makes sense.”
“Does it?”
“Yeah…if Amber wasn’t surrounded by the neighbors maybe she wouldn’t be having such a hard time.”
Helen frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“None of us did. With the recession and the prices of houses dropping like crazy, now would be the perfect time to buy. Maybe the buffer will help in the future.”
Selma thought for a while then asked, “So who controlled the crows?”
“We have no idea,” Helen told her. “It seriously bugged Kincaid. And I don’t think that guy bugs easily.”
“He’s a big man with big weapons.”
“And a huge power. His shield is stronger than a vault in Fort Knox.”
“Really?” Selma asked.
“Yeah.”
They sat there for a few minutes, both staring away from each other and not speaking.
Helen snapped her head toward her and held her stomach at the same time. “Why are you here?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“No…but you’re not here by accident.”
The problem with having her world filled with Druids was the realization that secrets were impossible to keep. “I feel like someone is watching me. I’m being paranoid.” Selma told her about the email, about the post office. “Paranoid. The guy in the post office didn’t look at me twice.”
“Never disregard your sixth sense.”
Funny, the quote was one Selma has used in her book. “I know. Which is why I’m here I guess. I’d have bothered Jake, but he’s at work.”
Helen lifted her eyebrows a few times. “Jake, huh?”
They talked about him, his stoic disposition, and general “assholiness”.
“You can always stay here,” Helen told her. “I’m sure Mrs. Dawson wouldn’t mind.”
“I couldn’t.”
Helen shook her head. “Maybe when Amber was plagued with all our feelings you needed to stay away…but not anymore.”
“The guy in the email is just ticked his girl hooked up with someone else and I’m just being paranoid. I know it.”
“I don’t know, Selma. There’s a reason you’re here, and I don’t think it’s paranoia.”
Selma painted on a smile and pretended to blow off the feeling of being watched.
****
Hours later, after visiting with Amber, Future-Boy, and his friend, Giles, Selma returned home and worked her way into her evening routine. She popped her dinner into the microwave and tossed a salad while she watched the evening news.
“…the scene was out of a Hollywood macabre script,” the reporter said. “Although the police aren’t reporting details of the crime scene, it’s safe to say the blood-bath reported by the neighbor had ritual written all over it.”
Selma lowered the salad dressing in her hand and willed the volume of the TV to increase.
Police activity outside an apartment building filled the screen. The coroner pushed a gurney past the camera, and a second one followed.
Selma blinked and turned back to her dinner.
“This kind of horror hasn’t affected Bullhead City in years.”
Her gaze snapped back to the screen.
“The ties to Southern California stem from the male victim. Victor Morales was a veteran of the Army once based at Camp Pendleton. His friends say he’d recently re-united with his high school sweetheart, and the two planned to marry. Instead of their families celebrating their union, they will be planning their funerals.”
Liquid dripped down her arm, and Selma noticed the dressing emptying from the bottle.
Her sixth sense raced up her spine, edging toward terror. The news switched to the weather as if the people in the previous story meant nothing.
Selma dropped the empty blue cheese dressing bottle, snatched her purse from the counter, and ran out of her apartment.
Aware of everyone, everything around her, she managed to shove into the driver’s seat of her car and turn the key.
Without direction, she found herself in front of Jake’s home standing at the front door with salad dressing sticking to her fingers. She kept looking behind her as noise from inside Jake’s home caught her attention.
