Chapter 15
I had a tough time sleeping. Turning on my bedside lamp, I stared at the welts on my leg from where I’d scratched myself in the mausoleum. Since meeting Ian, I’d thought of little else but him, even cutting…which was a good thing. I just wish the craving to cut would go away completely. I hated the fact it seemed to linger in the back of mind, especially when life wasn’t going my way.
I reached into my nightstand and pulled out my iPod, put my earbuds on and cranked the volume as high as it would go. The playlist was a compilation of all my favorite songs that I’d downloaded right after I’d learned we were moving to Scotland.
The music flowed through me, instantly putting me at ease. I wished I could scream the words at the top of my lungs. If it wasn’t the dead of night, I’d head out the back door and run. Run until my legs felt ready to fall off. Run until the emotions welling up in me released and I felt like I could breathe again.
My heart raced, and I glanced over at the dresser where I stashed my razor. I rubbed the tiny scar near the inside of my elbow, remembering how bad the pain had been when I’d cut on my arm before. It had hurt more than anywhere else on my body, which meant the release had been that much greater. It had also bled like crazy. Maybe I should make just a small cut…but not on my arm where everyone could see it. Maybe just on the inside of my calf again… small enough to take away the frustration I was feeling.
I slid off the bed and walked toward the dresser.
The song abruptly skipped to another and I glanced down at my iPod.
Oasis’s Wonderwall blared through the speakers.
I stopped in my tracks. I don’t remember the song being on my playlist.
As the chorus repeated, a feeling of comfort and serenity came over me, and Ian appeared. He was so transparent I could see right through him, but I didn’t care. He was here with me when I needed him.
I took my earbuds out, set the iPod aside. “I’ve missed you.”
He smiled and the hair on my arms stood on end. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“I think I know how to end the curse,” I said, rushing on to tell him about the vision, terrified he would disappear before I finished.
“You believe the journal holds the secret to the curse?” His image flickered in and out.
“I do. Why else would your mom show me those things?
At the mention of his mom, his brows furrowed.
“You don’t speak with your family?” I asked.
“No, they’ve moved on. I have no contact with the other side.”
Once again I was reminded of how lonely it must have been for him all these years––and how desperately I wanted to help him find peace. “Well, we just need a way into the castle.”
“I can get you in whenever you’d like.”
I nodded, ignoring the strange emotions rushing through me. If we found the journal and discovered a way to end the curse, then that meant Ian would move on and I would lose my friend, my confidante and someone I trusted explicitly.
I would be alone again.
“We can take as long as you need, Riley. There’s no urgency.”
But there was. At least Laria was making me feel that way. I didn’t know what else she had in store for me or my family, and I was terrified to find out.
“My dad will be gone all week, so maybe sometime in the next few days we can find a way into the castle.”
“Yes, anytime. Just say the word.”
I stared at him for a minute, taking in his features—the brilliant blue eyes, the long dark lashes, high cheekbones, and full lips. Kissable lips. My heart squeezed. As the days went by I was becoming more attached to him, not just as a friend, but someone I was attracted to—someone I wanted to be with. Someone who made me better than I was. Who helped make me whole.
I dropped my gaze.
“Stand up, Riley,” he said, taking my hands in his own.
His hands were big, his fingers long, and I couldn’t ignore the rush of exhilaration that flowed through my body at the contact.
“I want you to close your eyes,” he said, his expression intense. “Close your eyes and keep your mind open.”
I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and did my best to clear my thoughts, but it was hard, especially with Ian so near, touching me, staring at me.
But soon I managed, and I was no longer in my room, but sitting at the dining room table at the castle. The room, lit by candles, had a soft glow about it, and there was laughter as everyone settled into their chairs.
Servants entered with steaming dishes, and I immediately recognized one servant. “Laria,” I said under my breath, and Ian squeezed my hands.
It took me a minute to realize that I was seeing the room from Ian’s point of view, and from Ian’s time. I looked around the table and recognized his mother from the painting, and then his father, his brother, his sisters, their resemblance to Ian unquestionable.
Laughter filled the room, and I smiled at the warm sensations rushing through me. I was at home, safe, surrounded by the people I loved. I didn’t feel like I had a problem in the world.
A tall, beautiful blonde entered the room, and I knew this had to be Murray’s daughter, the family friend intended for Ian that Miss Akin had mentioned. My heart—or rather—Ian’s heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t get the sensation of him being head-over-heels in love. More like a crush.
I reached for the beer, brought it to my lips and drank deeply. I wondered at the strange aftertaste as I set the goblet back down.
Almost immediately I felt woozy, dizzy, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My heart raced against my breastbone and a strange pressure started in my throat and chest…a pressure that grew more intense by the second.
“Ian, what’s wrong?” Maggie asked, her eyes wide as she looked at Ian’s father with concern.
“Son, what is it?” his father asked, and the mood at the table abruptly changed.
Ian’s brother stood, knocking over his chair as he reached for Ian’s goblet and brought it to his nose. “Poison!” he roared, his gaze scanning the room.
Panic ensued, some of the servants rushing forward to help, others getting out of the way. Murray’s daughter screamed and fled the room in horror.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I fell to the ground, convulsing uncontrollably.
Cries and screams filled my ears as Ian’s mother cradled my head, rocking back and forth, looking down at me with desperation and helplessness.
“Catch the witch before she flees!” a man’s voice said, the faces above me blurring as I coughed up blood, the metallic taste filling my mouth.
Maggie cried, her lips soft against my forehead. “I love you, my son. I love you,” she said over and over again as cold seeped through me, deep to the bone, and I shook uncontrollably as the life left my body.
And then I stood back watching the scene take place, no longer an active participant. I realized I was now dead, watching helplessly as my family grieved for me. Sadness, panic, and regret washed through me, devastating feelings and emotions that everyone must go through at the moment of death…including my mom.
The image faded and I came back to myself and slowly opened my eyes. I hadn’t realized that I’d been crying until Ian dropped my hand and wiped away the tears with his fingers.
I leaned into him, burying my face against his chest, my arms sliding around his waist, my fingers fisting the back of his shirt. I couldn’t get close enough.
His arms encircled me, holding me tight. The experience had felt so real. All the emotions. All the sensations. Like it had happened to me.
“You are stronger than you know, Riley,” he whispered. “You have a gift, and don’t you forget it.”
He flickered in and out, and I felt his energy leaving me. “Please don’t go,” I whispered, desperate to keep him with me.
He kissed my forehead and whispered, “I must, but I’ll return.”
And then he was gone.
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The Deepest Cut, (MacKinnon Curse series, book 1) Page 15
