Present Day
SHANNON BOLTED UPRIGHT, still screaming, only to hear Liam yelling back from outside her tent.
“Wake up, Shannon,” he roared. “Then see to yer damnable wolf!”
She blinked, trying to acclimate herself. It was harder than usual this time. Harder to pull herself back to reality. To come to grips with the fact she had finally made it over the bridge.
That Liam had been the voice urging her to go back.
And the person who grabbed her before she met her death.
“Shannon,” he repeated from outside her tent. His voice was more of a growl this time. One that well matched the sound coming from her wolf. While tempted to let them go at it, she wouldn’t risk her new friend getting hurt at the hands of a foolish Irishman.
Her wolf had come under her care at the veterinarian clinic where she’d worked on the outskirts of Boston. She nursed him back to health, kept him for a while, then set him free, but somehow he tracked her here to her new home in New Hampshire. Since then, he had been a welcome protector against Liam, who, ironically, seemed determined to protect her as well.
“Enough, Wolf,” she said sternly, squinting against the morning sun when she stuck her head out of the tent. “You too, Liam.” She gestured for him to be on his way. “I’m fine.”
As always, since meeting him days before, she clenched her jaw and wore a tight expression rather than let him see how much he affected her. He was too handsome for his own good with a tall, broad-shouldered muscular frame, thick dark brown hair, and deep-set pale green eyes.
When he’d first arrived, he had worn modern-day clothing in case anyone showed up at their old colonial. Now it seemed he was preparing to travel back in time. So said his attire, which caught her off guard not just because it was medieval but because he managed to look so much more attractive in it. Dressed entirely in dark brown, he wore boots, trousers, ortriús, coupled with a tunic and a long leather great coat, orcóta mór, cinched at the waist.
She narrowed her eyes at the multiple weapons attached to him, including the dagger he held at the ready. Disgust rose fast. “Use that on Wolf, and I won’t be going anywhere with anyone.”
“I will use it on him if I have to.” He shrugged and sheathed it as Wolf tossed him an equally disgusted look and stalked off. “Are ye well, lass?” Rather than come any closer, he crouched as though trying to see past her into the tent. His ‘ye’s’ returned to regular ‘you’s.’ Something these time-traveling wizards apparently did to make twenty-first-century women feel more comfortable. “I cannot say I’ve ever heard a lass scream quite like that but realize now if someone were after you, your beastie would have already attacked them.”
“Yet he wasn’t concerned about anyone but you,” she noted, not about to praise him for coming to her rescue. “So please leave.”
Unfazed by her attitude, the corner of his mouth shot up, and one of his dimples erupted. “You want me to go when the sole reason for me being here is to protect you?”
“I don’t need protecting.” Though she suspected she did. Her dream had seemed especially daunting this time. As if not just Liam was closing in on her but something far more sinister than a deadly wall of water.
Something that made her desperate to bathe and wash its filth off.
She had tucked herself away in this tent for days now, suffering from depression that made no sense considering she’d come to terms with not being able to have children years ago. Long made peace with it.
If that weren't enough, she seemed to be suffering from an elusive longing and regret on top of it that she couldn't figure out. It was as if all the tears she’d suppressed over the years, not just because she was barren but those that came with being a vet, bubbled up. There was joy in her profession but also a great deal of sadness. Animals that were abandoned or abused. Those she had euthanized, not only when they were sick but when no home could be found for them.
She had learned long ago how to set aside her emotions and do what needed to be done, but since moving here, something had shifted inside her. Tested her strength. Weakened it a great deal.
Until now, that is, and she imagined it was somehow related to the dream.
She was still upset but finally able to detach herself again. Put the heartache back into a box in her mind. Knew she needed to get a grip. Bathe. Eat. Check on Constance. Figure out what happened while she’d lost herself inside this tent.
Unfortunately, because it spoke to her and Liam growing closer when that's the last thing she wanted, she had followedhis thoughts. Knew Constance wasn’t herself. Not only had she closed herself off in her room, but she’d been having fits of rage followed by unnatural bouts of silence. Even more daunting? She wasn’t letting her dog Zeke in.
“Where’s Zeke?” She pulled a sweatshirt over her head, yanked on sneakers, and ducked out of the tent only to sway a little on her feet.
“Easy, lass.” Liam was there in a blink, about to grip her shoulders to stabilize her, but she shook her head and got her own footing.
“Don’t touch me.” She frowned. “You’re not the guy who needs to touch me so we can pair up and help save Ireland together.”
That was how Madison and Riona discovered crucial pieces of information that had helped them along the way. They touched the guy they were meant to assist, and voilà, they saw what they hadn’t been able to see before. With Madison, it had been a memory. Riona, a secret. And something told Shannon that, in her case, it was whatever she longed for and regretted in addition to being unable to have children. Which, again, she had moved past.
Or so she had thought.
“You haven’t eaten or had anything to drink in nearly three days despite me leaving both outside your tent.” Liam manifested a skin of God knows what and held it out. “Drink. ‘Tis needed.”
She managed a curt thanks because it was the right thing to do and tried to ignore how intimidating he was. How tall and strong when she felt anything but at the moment. She didn’t need to appear that way, though. So she squared her shoulders, ignored the skin of what was likely magically tainted whiskey, and headed for the house.
