And she would do it again in a heartbeat.
Her little sister smiled. “You’re home.”
Brianna’s heart ached to see the paleness of Violet’s smooth cheeks, the dark smudges beneath those large blue eyes. She sat down on the bed and ran her fingers through the wispy golden hair on Violet’s head. “And you should be sleeping, love.”
Violet shook her head. She struggled as she sat up and leaned against the
headboard. “I slept all afternoon, Brianna.”
The mutinous set of her little mouth pleased Brianna and she couldn’t help but smile.
“What about some soup for dinner, Violet?” she asked. “And a bit of television?”
The little girl clasped her hands, her face infused with a touch of color. “Oh, yes!”
Brianna laughed, her heart a bit lighter, and dropped a lingering kiss on her sister’s brow. No fever there, she was relieved to note.
“I shall heat up some soup then, love.” She stood and walked to the doorway.
“And if you eat all of it I have a treat for you.”
“Ben and Jerry’s ice cream?” Violet asked.
Brianna smiled as she shook her head. Despite her family’s affinity for magic, nothing pleased her sister more than the frozen treat made by two round men in Vermont.
Next to television, it was one of the few delights for the child here in America.
“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” Brianna said. “But the doughnuts look very tasty.”
Violet’s mouth was a small O of delight. “Doughnuts? Yum!”
Brianna’s spirits lifted as she went into the kitchen to ready her sister’s dinner tray. After getting Violet settled on the plump couch in front of the television, she carefully measured out the medicine the child had to take for some weeks further. The tray at Violet’s elbow held a steaming bowl of rich tomato soup and a plate with a precious chocolate doughnut, and after taking her medicine with a grimace the little girl set on her meal. Brianna watched her for a moment, making sure she ate and was comfortable, before escaping to her bedroom.
Brianna opened the closet door and knelt before it. She closed her eyes and murmured words taught to her by her mother when she was near Violet’s age. A glow began at the back wall of the closet, heating her face as it grew brighter. As the warmth grew she opened her eyes and smiled, relief flooding her. Gold sparkled brightly before her. A king’s ransom in stolen Braunach gold hidden in her closet, revealed to assure Brianna that Violet’s treatments would continue. The gold’s very presence that was so vital to Violet’s health was dangerous to Brianna.
Brianna’s sister suffered from a rare blood disorder, a sickness no Pixie magic had managed to cure. After much research she discovered this city with a strange name at the very edge of the key’s power. Far less well-known than other cities such as London or New York, Indianapolis had seemed a fitting place in which to hide. Until now. It boasted a fine children’s hospital, though getting the child such care would take a lot of money.
Two hundred years earlier one of their ancestors had stolen the gold from the
MacDonald clan of Braunach. No Pixie had touched it since, and by legend it wasn’t to be used except in a matter of life or death. Brianna stoically shook her head. This was surely such a matter.
Pixies avoided government constraints, like passports or customs officials. The less attention they drew, the better to avoid questions. And surely an abundance of gold coins would draw more than questions. So with the crystal key she leapt to America, risking the danger such a trip would pose to Violet for the promise of healing her for good.
To Brianna’s eye she had more than enough gold for the little girl’s remaining treatments. The city boasted many museums and antique shops where she traded the coins for American currency. The doctors and staff at the hospital, with the help of a bit of magic, believed not only that the child was Brianna’s daughter but that a large trust was held for the child to pay for her treatments. To her relief Brianna wouldn’t have to endure the prying an application for health insurance would entail, or the questions it would raise.
Brianna whispered a few more words and the glow before her faded. The room was cool now and, except for a slight shimmer on the back wall of the closet, the gold was concealed once more. After saying a prayer that evoked less magic and more Christianity, she rose and shut the closet door tight. Please don’t let the Braunach find the gold, Lord.
She stripped off her simple work clothes and donned a thick soft robe. Reaching into the front pocket of the denim jeans she’d worn, she withdrew the small crystal key.
Multi-faceted and pale blue in color, the key nestled in the palm of her hand. She found it amazing such a small piece of cut stone could affect such magic.
Carved from one piece of crystal from a deep cave on the Cornish coastline, the
key had been in Brianna’s family from time interminable though she’d never seen it before her grandmother told her the remarkable tale. Grandmother had warned Brianna to take care. That more came with the gold than she imagined. And more than magic came with the key itself. Of that, Brianna had serious doubts. For aside from getting her and her sister here to Indianapolis, the key had done nothing to keep the Braunach from her.
The MacDonald Braunach’s gaze had heated her flesh, and she suspected it was due to more than the guilt she felt for snatching his family’s gold. She believed he wasn’t from this time. He seemed… odd and out of fashion despite wearing jeans and a simple flannel shirt. He was strong and handsome. That was true. And dangerous. Laughter reached her ears then, sweet and light. A smile curved her lips as thoughts of the MacDonald at last fled her mind.
She joined Violet in the living room and was pleased to see most of the little girl’s soup, and all of the doughnut, was gone. The child laughed at a cartoon on the television and Brianna settled down beside her. She wrapped her arms around the girl’s narrow shoulders and cuddled on the couch with her until the child’s lids drooped over her beautiful eyes. When Violet’s face was soft with sleep, a smile still lingering on her rosebud mouth, Brianna carried her sister to her bed once more.
* * *
Luke awoke in his large empty bed and stared at the plaster ceiling of the flat, planning his next move against the Pixie. He fingered the treasured amber tied around his neck as he let his mind work. She wouldn’t give up the gold. Not willingly. Braunach were known for their charm, and Luke possessed his share in abundance. Hadn’t more than one woman here fallen victim to it without his intention? True, he hadn’t indulged with any of them. And honor was but one reason; none had aroused the fire that filled him when he had glimpsed the lovely Pixie behind that counter.
She recognized him for what he was, he’d known. He’d read it in her look, her demeanor, as she trembled before him.
He rose and walked into the bathroom set close to his bed. Convenient this, he admitted as he saw to his morning duties in the raised, water-filled chamber pot. After a steaming shower, he wiped the mist off the mirror above the washstand and shaved off a day’s growth of beard with a light throwaway shaver he’d found at a nearby store. He raked his fingers through his thick auburn locks and regarded himself in the mirror for a moment.
The Pixie was here, just as the Leprechaun O’Shey had told him. And she had the gold; of that Luke had no doubt. Her magic was far stronger than his charm and cunning, though. It would take a delicate hand to wrest the treasure from the girl, fragile though she appeared. Pixies weren’t all lightness and beauty. He’d never seen one fairer, ‘twas true. However, appearances were not to be believed where she was concerned.
He toweled off and dressed in the clothes he favored in this time: denim jeans topped with another soft shirt made of flannel. He pulled on a pair of thick white socks and padded into the living area of the flat.
The apartment wasn’t any more attractive than when he first arrived. It was close to any number of markets where he could buy the sweet and crunchy cere
al with the sea captain on the box, though. He poured a generous amount of the cereal into a large bowl, took chilled milk from the cold box and sat himself at the table. Not long after, a knock came at the door.
“Hey, Luke!”
He recognized Jim’s voice. He glanced at the beige clock set high on one wall and frowned to see it was ten o’clock. Whyever was Jim here at this hour?
“Aye,” Luke called.
He placed his empty bowl on the counter and opened the door. His friend stood there, dressed in knit pants gathered at his ankles and a gray pullover shirt. Sneakers, Luke had come to know, finished his friend’s dress. Ah, he knew now. It was Saturday, the day the men in their building took full advantage of their free time to exercise or stroll the walks downtown looking for amusement. The weather was obliging, and Luke admitted spring was as good a time as any to be here and now.
“What’s up, Luke?” Jim asked.
Luke resisted the urge to look skyward as he had when first hearing the odd greeting. He shrugged his shoulders. “Just finishing breaking my fast, Jim. What is… up with you?”
Jim grinned. “Thought we’d go jogging down by the White River.”
The river whose name bore little resemblance to its condition, Luke mused. A bracing run would suit him and allow him time to consider his next move against the Pixie. “Aye.”
While Jim waited, flipping through images on the television set in one corner of the living room with the small box in his hand, Luke went into the bedroom and changed into a blue sweatshirt and running pants. The city offered plenty of shops that sold these comfortable clothes, and they made up his wardrobe along with the jeans and flannel shirts. Ah the shoes, though. Luke loved these sneakers, and had bought more pairs than he could possibly use in the short time he expected to be here.
He laced up a pair of white sneakers trimmed in bright green, the ones Uncle Seamus would much love. Wincing at the thought, he left the bedroom and joined his friend. “Ready, then?”
Jim nodded and they left the apartment, bound for the wide brick walkways that snaked along the shore of the river.
Chapter 6
At the coffee shop, Brianna poured the grounds into the coffee maker. Her work didn’t challenge her much, for which she was grateful. And she earned the money that kept her and Violet in food and shelter. She wouldn’t use her magic for her own gain, any more than she would use the gold.
It was Saturday, and the coffee shop was as busy as any work day in the city. She deftly poured cups of coffee for the customers seated at the long counter. The patrons were primarily men, and she dodged smiles and veiled attempts at seduction as she went about her simple duties.
Another glance about the coffee shop showed her the Braunach wasn’t here. In truth she didn’t need her eyes to be sure; she would feel him if he came close to her again. No doubt he would be here soon, too. And she didn’t need her Pixie senses to know that, either.
Ever since arriving at the shop that morning, an odd sensation had set her nerves to tingling. The crystal key vibrated deep within the front pocket of her jeans as well. Still no sign of the Braunach but they were a cunning clan, the MacDonalds. She wouldn’t be surprised if he could watch her without her seeing him.
Thankfully, Violet had seemed stronger this morning. No doubt Mrs. Henning would have her able hands full with the little sprite. It was a pity the child would have to endure another treatment at the hospital on Monday. The poking and prodding hurt Brianna as much as her little sister. At least the hospital was bright and cheery, the staff friendly and caring.
The doctors assured Brianna that the treatment and medicines were working, although they were frustratingly slow. The doctors said the child’s weak blood was growing stronger with each addition of an unknown savior’s blood dripped into one thin
arm. Brianna didn’t understand all the technical terms the doctors used, but she now knew the child’s illness well. Hemolytic Anemia, caused by an infection she’d contracted back home. Brianna prayed each day that the new blood and the medicine would heal the child. If not, Violet would have to endure a surgery that Brianna would rather not contemplate.
The little bell above the door tinkled yet again, and with relief she noted the MacDonald didn’t enter. Just a round little man with dark eyes. Brianna narrowed her gaze on him, finally letting out a breath as he sat himself at one of the tables lining the wall of windows that faced the street. Something about him seemed familiar, though she couldn’t place him. Her breath grew short as he began to tap his stubby fingers on the tabletop.
“Hey, Bree.”
Brianna jumped and turned to face Lori. “Oh!”
Lori placed a hand on Brianna’s shoulder. “Jeez, Bree. What’s wrong?”
Brianna glanced back at the dark little man but whatever odd sensation she had was silent now. “Nothing’s wrong, Lori.” She brushed back a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail and offered the woman a smile. “I’m just tired.”
“You need a day off,” Lori said. “Boss man will let you.”
Brianna shook her head. “I have my Sundays free. And Mr. Shepard gives me
enough time off for Violet’s treatments.”
Lori clicked her tongue. “He doesn’t mind, Bree. You, me and the kids in the kitchen pretty much run this place and he likes it that way.”
Mr. Shepard was another blessing in this place, his concern secured without the use of Pixie magic.
“I know,” Brianna said. “But I can work the days she’s well enough to stay with
Mrs. Henning. I don’t want to think about asking for more time.”
“But what about you?” Lori asked.
“Me?” Brianna laughed without humor. “What about me? I’m well.”
Lori straightened, her black curls bouncing as she nodded. “I saw that handsome devil eyeing you yesterday, Bree.”
The Braunach. A devil? No, but just as dangerous. Brianna feigned confusion. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Ha!” Lori laughed. “The one with the auburn curls and big green eyes, Bree.
Ooh, and big shoulders. Long legs.” She winked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice him.”
Brianna opened her mouth to argue but the door’s jingling bell cut off her words.
A glance past Lori’s shoulder told her that the “handsome devil” had returned at last.
Bloody beautiful.
Lori followed her gaze, then turned to flash a cheeky grin in Brianna’s direction.
“Oh, and you didn’t notice him? Although I have to say his blond friend isn’t half bad, either.”
Brianna hadn’t noticed the blond man standing beside the Braunach; how could she, with the Braunach’s moss green eyes fastened on her with an intensity that shook her? The key in her pocket began to vibrate softly, moving gently against her thigh. As she stood rooted to the floor in her lace-up sneakers, he approached.
His gait was easy and his shoulders rolled as he stalked her. The hanging lights caught the red in his thick hair, hair that was still damp. His plaid shirt stretched across his broad shoulders; his faded jeans hugged his powerful legs. She brought her gaze back to his face. The crooked smile she glimpsed there caused her mouth to tighten. The crystal key in her pocket shifted and she pressed her palm against the small bulge it made. Strength, Brianna. Center your strength.
“Good afternoon, lass,” he drawled.
* * *
Luke drank in the unease he saw on the Pixie’s lovely face. Her body trembled, and he more than suspected it wasn’t fear causing her to shake. Nay, her blue eyes flashed at him, and he felt it straight to his belly.
He managed to keep from grinning as he and Jim sat at the counter. The girl turned from him and attempted to busy herself, but like yesterday her hands trembled.
She was adept at her work, comfortable with the gadgets and workings of the shop. This told him she was from this time if not this place. Her moves were halting and jerky, showi
ng her unease. He hid his grin of satisfaction. Good. She wasn’t immune to his charm. She wouldn’t be immune to his cunning, either.
“Great run this morning, Luke,” Jim said. “And we have the rest of the day to…
entertain ourselves.”
Luke nodded, glancing up to find a tall dark-haired girl standing before him.
“Coffee?” she asked.
Her eyes held more promise than the hot brew. It was like this with most mortal women he’d met here. It seemed his charm slipped his control easily since his time jump.
Before he had cause to deflect her attentions, she turned to Jim and flashed him a bright smile.
“Coffee,” Jim returned. He leaned on the counter. “And something sweet, I think.
Any suggestions?”
The girl gave a throaty laugh and placed a hand on one shapely hip. “Anything you like.”
Little was different in this time and place between the sexes, then. Jim had boasted over the past few days that the women here liked to “have a good time,” as he put
it.
“And what’s your name?” he heard Jim ask the girl.
Luke soon dismissed their conversation and folded his hands on the counter. He watched the Pixie and as he stared at her round little bottom caressed by her jeans, he thought there could be worse things than waiting for her to face him again. He didn’t have long to wait, however.
“Bree, see to Jim’s friend, wouldja?” the dark-haired serving girl said.
Was that an English curse the Pixie muttered before letting out a sigh? He did smile then. She approached him, her hands in small fists at her sides.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
He arched a brow at her. “Coffee, lass.” He inclined his head toward a plate of round treats he now knew were doughnuts. “And one of those sweets, pray.”
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