“Karma! Karma come to me. I can’t see.” The frantic woman crouched and held out her arms.
The black dog leaped across the clearing and pressed against his mistress’s side. The woman dropped to her knees, wrapped her arms around the brute’s neck, and pressed a cheek against his broad head. “Karma. Thank goodness. Please stay with me.”
Gray studied the pair. The softly mumbling lass twisted him inside, made him want to protect her. The helpless beauty obviously loved and trusted the animal with all her heart—and the hound returned her love and devotion. Guilt left a bad taste in his mouth as his hand fell away from the dagger strapped to his leg. Thank the gods he had not caused the beast harm.
“Trulie?” a weak voice called out from higher up the hillside.
The girl lifted her head, turning her face toward the sound. “Granny? Granny is that you?”
So the lass’s name was Trulie. Odd name for a woman. Gray moved a step closer, coming to a quick halt when the dog snarled another warning. “Lass—Mistress—call off yer beast. I mean ye no harm.”
Trulie leaned closer to the great, black brute and hugged him against her side. “It’s okay, Karma. Don’t bite him. Just watch and be ready ... just in case.”
Karma stood taller, ears perked and focus locked on Gray. Fearlessness shone in the dog’s eyes as he showed his teeth even more, daring Gray to make a wrong move.
The rattle of tumbling rocks echoed around the edge of the hill. A soft thud, followed by a faint grunt, came from behind a cluster of saplings. The young trees gently shook as more rocks bounced down the hillside around them.
“Crap on crackers, that was a rough ride.” An old woman covered in dust hitched her way out from the center of the bushes, clapping the dirt from her hands. “How many times have I told you not to bust through flat-footed, Trulie? You have to work on your reentry, young lady.”
“Granny, I can’t see!” Trulie hitched sideways toward the old woman; her hands held out in a feeble attempt to feel her way.
Granny shook a finger at Gray as she rubbed her hip and gimped over to Trulie.Stay there,she mouthed to him, then pointed at the ground in front of his feet.
His mouth dropped open. Did that old woman just tell him to stay put as though he were a lad due a scolding? “Woman, ye best be telling me who ye are. I will have ye know ye are standing on my land.”
Granny pointed at the spot where he stood and hiked a brow like a mother daring a child to disobey. She gave him one last, irritated scowl as she wrapped an arm around Trulie’s shoulders. “It’s all right, gal. You know it sometimes takes your sight a while to adjust. Especially when you are the beacon.” Granny stretched on tiptoe and peered into Trulie’s red-rimmed eyes. She rubbed a wrinkled thumb across the girl’s reddened cheek in a gentle caress. “You dove through head first with your eyes open, didn’t you?”
Gray eased closer. The two women were obviously kin. Mother and daughter? Nay. The old one was too long in the tooth to have a child the age of the young woman. The girl had called the old woman “Granny.” Aye, the old one was the lass’s grandmother.
Trulie sniffed and ducked her head away from Granny’s touch. A mumbled “Yes”floated from behind her shirt sleeve as she dragged her arm across her face.
“You know better, Trulie,” Granny gently scolded as she stepped away. “Your sight will take a few days to return. Until then, Karma will have to be your eyes.”
Gray cleared his throat. He was tired of being ignored. “Who are ye?” He did his best not to bite out the words, but damn, this situation was getting stranger by the minute. “And where the devil did ye from?”
“I am Nia Sinclair,” Granny said as she pulled off her spectacles and cleaned them with her shirttail. “And this”—she tipped her head toward Trulie—“is my granddaughter, Trulie Elizabeth Sinclair.” She leaned to one side and looked around Gray, her gaze searching around the clearing. “And somewhere close by is my cat, Kismet. You haven’t by chance seen a very opinionated black cat around here, have you?”
“Witches.” Gray released the word with a strained breath. Just what he needed. Could this day get any worse?
“We are not witches.” Granny hiked her chin to a haughty angle and widened her stance. “We are time runners with a few extra abilities tossed in for good measure.” She settled the wire-rimmed spectacles back on her nose and planted her fists on her narrow hips. “And since when does a MacKenna fear witches? I believe quite a few of them come from your line.”
“Get off me, ye wretched beast! Off, I say.” Colum’s enraged roar rang out from just beyond a pile of stones stacked against the hillside.
“Now what?” Gray whirled around just as Colum rounded the pile at a swift hop while trying to kick free the yowling feline wrapped around his calf.
The man at arms danced back and forth, narrow rivulets of blood streaming down his leg. Every time he grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck, Kismet sank her fangs and claws deeper into his leg.
“Don’t you hurt my cat,” Granny warned while shaking her fist.
“If I ever get this wee demon off my leg, its feckin’ pelt will be my next sporran.” Colum hopped over to the stone trough beside the door. He lifted his leg over the side and plunged it down into the murky water.
Kismet released her hold just before hitting the water. The hissing feline raced up Colum’s thigh, launched to his chest, and swiped her unsheathed claws across his cheek as a parting gift before leaping over his shoulder.
Colum gingerly palmed his crotch as he wiped the blood from his face. With a deadly look around the clearing, he unsheathed his sword. “That little bastard nearly split my bollocks in two. That wee demon is mine.”
“You are not going to harm my cat.” Granny stomped across the clearing and jabbed a bony finger into the center of his wide chest. “If you hadn’t startled her, she wouldn’t have felt the need to deball you. Now stop acting like such a bully.”
Gray took this opportunity to move to Trulie’s side, taking care to give the growling black dog a wide berth. “Where did ye... ” Gray paused and glanced toward Granny, still telling Colum in no uncertain terms how she did not appreciate his behavior. “How did ye and yer grandmother get here?”
