Panic twisted her insides into knots, turning her body into a sweating, shaking mess. Send me home, she silently begged the necklace. Send me home, send me home, send me home.
“’Tis safe, lass.” The sound of Talon’s voice nearly had her knees buckling in relief. He took her hand and looped her arm into the crook of his own. “The cave isna large, little wider than the chaplain’s chamber in Rayne, but about three times as deep.” He took a step and she followed. “We’ll sleep in the back.”
The thought of sleeping in this utter dark didn’t please her at all, but she allowed him to lead her without voicing her dismay. It wasn’t like they’d passed any Holiday Inns along the way.
They hadn’t gone far when Talon took her hand and tugged her down. She felt around, feeling dirt and stones and ... euww. Something sticky. No way in hell was she going to be able to sleep in here.
She remembered thinking her accommodations were rustic at Cat’s wedding when she’d discovered her room didn’t have a private bath and the only showerhead in the bathroom was a handheld attached to the tub spigot. Right now, she’d give just about anything for that clean, warm inn with the down duvet and the hot, flowing water.
And light. Lots of light.
“Come, lass,” Talon said softly, tugging on her hand.
She let him pull her close, not realizing his intent until he tried to pull her into his arms.
Julia stiffened and jerked away. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll keep you warm while you sleep.”
She snorted and pulled her hand from his grasp. “I’ll bet. Thanks but no thanks, Casanova. I’m fine over here.” The thought of him holding her close, his hands roaming God-knew-where, sent a strange combination of chills and warmth fighting one another for dominance over her body.
Maybe she was too aware of him, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. Not like that. She knew what he really wanted. Sex.
A cold, hard knot formed in her stomach. She’d been there, done that. And she wasn’t doing it again.
“Then lay ye down, lass. You need sleep.”
Unfortunately, she couldn’t argue that one. With a shudder of revulsion, she slowly lowered herself to the ground, glad for the Jedi robe between her skin and the actual dirt. But as she laid her head on the hard ground, she knew it was a lost cause.
She lay there shivering until the sound of some small creature running nearby had her shooting upright again. A mouse? She didn’t mind mice, not in theory, but no way was she letting one use her as a jungle gym.
Maybe it wasn’t a mouse. Maybe it was a rat. Or a snake. No, snakes didn’t scurry. Not unless they grew Scottish snakes like they did Scottish men—big, with too many hands.
She pulled up her knees and buried her face against them, once more silently begging the stone to send her home. Either stone—hers or Talon’s ring. She wasn’t particular. She wanted a pillow. A hot shower. Clean clothes.
She listened for the sound of Talon’s breathing and heard nothing. Did he sleep as silently as he walked, or was he still awake, too? The thought was comforting. And yet not comforting at all. Everything about the man disturbed her. The way he manhandled her. The way he kissed her. The way he sent her pulse into overdrive every time he came near.
Her heart began to beat a hard, insistent rhythm in her chest. Why couldn’t he make just a little noise so she knew he was still there? What if he’d vanished as surely as his clerical robes and beard?
The pounding in her chest intensified, thudding against her ribs. A cool sweat dampened her scalp. Her fingers itched to reach for him, to be sure he hadn’t left her, but the last thing she wanted to do was wake him. Or make him think she needed him. She didn’t. Julia Brodie didn’t need anybody.
Oh hell, who was she kidding? It was exactly that she needed him. Desperately. What in the world would happen to her in this place if she lost him? Not only might she never get home, but she was unlikely to even survive.
Swallowing her pride, she reached out.
Talon heard her. Jesu, half the forest probably heard her. She had no understanding of silence, this one.
When her fingertips grazed his cheek, he slid his fingers around her hand before she could snatch it back.
She gasped.
“Easy, lass. What ails ye?”
“Nothing.”
He tugged lightly on her hand. “Come here.”
She jerked her hand away from him. “No. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t fine. She was scared. He could feel it in the faint tremble of her hand and hear it in her voice, just as he’d been listening to her uneven breathing. Yet she refused to let him hold her.
Why? Was she, as she’d said, simply not interested in him? No. He’d felt the truth of her attraction when he’d kissed her. Was it him she was afraid of? But then why had she reached for him?
He’d never understand the mind of a woman. She sat there shivering with fright and cold and refused his warm arms. If he wasn’t good enough ...
Julia sneezed.
“Lass ... come here.”
“I’m fine, I just ... wanted to make sure the ring hadn’t poofed you out of here.”
He heard the fear she tried to hide and again wondered if she wasn’t just a little afraid of him. And why would a lass who’d known many men be afraid of a man’s arms around her? She wouldn’t. Unless one of them had hurt her.
Whatever her past, it was clear demons haunted her still. Perhaps she tried to shut out all men.
All people?
The thought found purchase deep within him. Aye. He could feel her solitude, feel the walls she’d built around herself. They felt surprisingly like his own.
With a sigh, he sat up. The lass was a mystery he’d not solve in a single night, not when he was dead tired. He needed rest. They both did.
“You’re not sleeping, Julia.”
“I’m not tired.”
“I canna sleep either. As you fear the ring’s power, so do I. I keep thinking the ring will steal you away.” He resisted reaching for her with effort. “I might be able to sleep if I could touch you, lass. Just to know you’re there. Perhaps you’ll feel the same.”
He heard her soft sound of disbelief, but her waspish tongue remained silent. So he did the reaching this time. “Take my hand, Julia-lass,” he said softly.
His fingers encountered her arm then moved slowly toward her hand. When his fingers closed around her chilled ones, he squeezed softly. “Come lie down, Julia. If ye get no sleep, ’twill be a hard day tomorrow.”
She didn’t pull away this time, but neither did she allow him to tug her forward.
Talon shifted closer until he sat beside her. With his free hand, he touched her silky hair, stroking ever so softly. “Drop yer shields, lass. Just for tonight.”
“I don’t have any shields.”
“Aye, you do. Let me keep you safe, Julia. I’ll treat you with honor, lass. No seduction, I vow it.”
“I don’t want you to hold me.”
But he heard the sound of a stubbornness that lacked conviction and took the choice from her hands. She needed to be held. And, though he didn’t understand why, he needed to do the holding.
“Come here.” He scooped her up and pulled her onto his lap, sensing that trying to lie with her immediately would have her fighting to free herself.
“You just do whatever you want, don’t you?” Though her words held a hint of frustration, they contained no real anger and far too much exhaustion.
To his relief, she didn’t try to pull away, though she remained stiff and straight. Sensing she’d bolt if he pushed too fast, he held her lightly and stroked her back.
“I do what you are too stubborn and prideful to admit you want, lass.”
She tried to pull away.
Talon held her. “Easy, Julia. Forgive me. Dinna go.” He ran his hand lightly up and down her back, calming her. Gentling her. When he felt her begin to soften, he shifted her sli
ghtly, pulling her shoulder against his chest. If she would just unbend a little more, he could tuck her head beneath his chin. “I know you’re tired, lassie. Give in to it.”
She ignored him for long moments, then the last of her stiffness melted away and she sank against him with a sigh, her small head fitting perfectly beneath his chin, as he’d known it would.
“Don’t take advantage, Talon. Please?” Her words throbbed with exhaustion.
He rubbed his chin lightly against her hair. “I vow it, Julia. I’ll hold ye while ye sleep and keep ye safe. Nothing more.”
He wondered at himself. He never slept with a lass, never wanted to, except for reasons of the flesh. But this one ... there was something about her. A feeling, perhaps, that the face she showed the world was just a mask. A mask designed to keep others at bay. Designed to keep others from seeing the real Julia.
He knew what it was to wear such a mask, for he’d done so for years. The mask of the Wizard.
He supposed the why didn’t matter. The plain fact was the lass needed comforting. She needed a strong man at her back. Despite her shrewish tongue, she was one of the most vulnerable females he’d come across in a long while.
Almost at once, she slept, her face pressed to his chest. Certain she was well and truly asleep, he pulled her down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The feel of her soft, warm body against his, and the trust with which she’d gifted him, pulled at something deep inside him.
Protectiveness welled up, strong and fierce. Holding her felt surprisingly, disturbingly, right.
Deep in his chest, something eased.
And warmed.
And grew.
“Are ye awake, then?”
Julia blinked at the sound of Talon’s low, cheery voice, and turned her head to find him settling on the ground a few yards away, the golden lantern in front of him. Daylight dimly illuminated the small, close cave, revealing their true surroundings. Spider webs hung on the walls near the uneven ceiling. Stones and twigs scattered the ground. In the corner lay a pile of dead grasses—a nest of some kind.
With a shudder, she sat up and looked away. The morning air felt chilly against her face, but her Jedi robe had kept her surprisingly warm.
Or had Talon done that? She’d woken at one point during the night to the scent of warm, male flesh and found her face tucked against his throat, his strong arms tight around her. Warm and content, she’d fallen quickly back to sleep.
The memory of how he’d held her ... of how she’d allowed him to hold her ... made a blush rise to her cheeks.
She hadn’t been herself last night—afraid of the dark, clinging to a man. The woman inside her who left male business associates quaking in their Guccis was disgusted. Then again, that woman wasn’t here, was she? That independent, supremely confident woman had gotten lost somewhere between the Hertz rental car center and the seventeenth century.
This Julia wasn’t entirely sure who she was anymore.
She watched as Talon pulled out the small flask of lamp oil he’d tucked inside the lantern and poured oil into the lamp’s reservoir.
He glanced up, meeting her gaze. “How did ye sleep?” His question was simple, the look in his eyes warm and kind.
That warmth seeped inside her, filling her chest with a deep, pleasurable pressure. She remembered little of the night, only the feeling that she’d been utterly safe. True to his word, Talon had taken no advantage of her that she was aware of. And she was pretty sure she’d have known.
“I slept ... surprisingly well.”
A soft smile lifted his mouth. His blue eyes watched her with satisfaction. Her stomach tightened, fluttering until he finally turned that intense gaze back to the lamp and she could breathe again.
Part of her really hated to admit she’d liked sleeping with him. She hated being wrong about anything. Or anyone.
Talon was a flirt and a con man, and way too physical, but he wasn’t all bad. He might not be bad at all, though the jury was still out on that one. At the moment, with her, he was playing the part of a good guy. And she couldn’t help but respond.
He lit the wick on the lamp. The flame rose.
“Show me the place where the fire chalice rests,” Talon murmured.
Julia sat, still as stone, watching Talon, holding her breath. Minute after minute passed until she had to fight not to squirm.
“’Tisna working,” Talon muttered at last.
“What’s supposed to happen?”
The handsome Highlander took a deep breath and let it out slowly, never taking his gaze from the flame. “The answer should appear to me. I saw it in my vision.”
“You saw how it worked in your vision?”
“Aye.” Still he didn’t move.
“Maybe it needs a different question.”
He glanced at her, then nodded as he turned back to the lamp. “Show me the Fire Chalice of Veskin.”
But still nothing happened.
Talon pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes with a groan. The flame had to be imprinted on his eyeballs by now.
“Is it possible we grabbed the wrong lamp?” Julia asked carefully. If anyone had gotten the wrong lamp, it was him. And he might not appreciate the reminder.
But he didn’t seem to mind her question. “I’ve been wondering the same thing, but there were no other lamps in that nook. And this is identical to the one shown to me in my vision. This has to be the lamp. But I dinna ken why it isna working.”
“Can I try?”
Talon lowered his hands, blinking as if trying to clear his gaze. “Aye. Mayhap ’tis the reason you’re here.”
Julia tried to crawl over to him and nearly landed on her face. Crawling in long skirts was impossible. But as she stood, her bladder complained. If this didn’t work soon, she was going to have to find a place to relieve herself. Only the thought that helping him might suddenly send her back to her own time where she might find a public restroom close by, complete with toilet paper, kept her from seeking relief immediately.
She stood and walked the few steps, then sat down opposite him.
Talon met her gaze. “Ask it a question, lass.”
Her breath quickened. She broke away from his gaze to stare into the flame. “Why am I here?” She waited, watching the tiny flame dance, but like before, nothing happened. “Show me the chalice Talon seeks.”
Still nothing. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She rose. “I need to ...” What was the proper term? Go to the bathroom sounded like she wanted a bath. Which was true, but definitely not her most pressing concern at the moment.
But Talon understood. With a nod, he motioned toward the cave entrance. “There’s no one about. Mind your face as ye push through the bushes. I’ll not follow.”
With a quick nod, she hurried toward the mouth of the cave. Privacy was good. A flush toilet and a roll of toilet paper would have been better.
As she’d tried to squat over a chamber pot yesterday for the first time, she’d finally understood the advantage of not wearing panties. She lifted her hood and pushed past the branches, then walked a short way from the cave, looking around. They were in the woods, though the trees were still winter bare and not nearly as dense as they’d appeared last night. Above the treetops, the sky appeared gray and heavy, and the air felt damp, smelling of rain.
Great.
She found a likely spot and managed to hike her skirts and squat, groaning. She was good about going to the gym three or four days a week at home, but she usually spent her time on the treadmill or weight machines. Not squatting. Definitely not squatting.
Once she was done, she stood with her feet apart, attempting to air dry. God, how much longer was this impromptu medieval camping trip going to last?
With a sinking feeling, she realized she should have been back at work today. Her presentation wasn’t until Thursday, but getting back to her own time was only the first step. Would she simply appear somewhere, without purse or passport, lo
oking like a homeless person? How would she ever explain where she’d been or how she’d disappeared?
She didn’t want to think about it. Even if she got back to her own time this morning, it might take her days to get back to New York. And she didn’t have days.
At the thought of returning home, of never seeing Talon again, she felt an odd twinge of regret. She had yet to really figure him out, but there was no doubt he’d been the most dynamic presence in her life in a long, long time.
Birds sang to one another in the trees overhead as she headed back to the cave. Pushing through the bushes, her eyes had to adjust once more to the far dimmer light.
Talon was sitting where she’d left him, legs crossed before the lamp, one arm extended from his side over something flat and dark and round.
Not until her eyes adjusted to the dim light did she realize what she was seeing. Her heart stuttered. The dark round thing was a puddle.
Of blood.
SEVEN
“Talon!” Julia raced into the cave, squatting beside him where the blood dripped from his hand, forming a small puddle in the dirt by his feet. The blood was flowing from a thick, open cut at his wrist. “What happened?” Surely he hadn’t slit his own wrist.
He looked stunned. Maybe even in shock. “I demanded the ring tell me how to work the lamp.”
“And it attacked you?”
His gaze rose to hers, his eyes a little glassy, yet thoughtful.
“Nay.” He turned back to the lamp, his brows drawing together. “I wonder ...”
With his uninjured hand, he picked up the lamp and blew out the flame, casting them into a dull gray daylight. To her surprise, he tipped the lamp and poured the oil into the dirt.
“What are you doing?” Was he already delirious?
He didn’t answer. Instead, he held his bleeding hand straight down over the oil reservoir. Blood dripped onto the lamp, some dropping into the reservoir, some running down the sides.
“Talon, you’re beginning to worry me,” she admitted softly.
He didn’t look up. “The lamp wants my blood.”
Amethyst Destiny Page 9
