Touch of Lightning

by Carin Rafferty

  He was so busy contemplating the issue that when Sarah mentally ordered the snake to strike, it took him a moment to realize her intent. When it registered that she planned to kill herself, he gaped at her, stunned.

  But as he watched the rattler’s mouth open and its head bob toward Sarah’s neck, he was jarred into action. She was too far away, so there was no way he could reach her before the snake struck. He also didn’t have time to cast a protective spell over Sarah, but, hopefully, he could stop the snake from biting her.

  Murmuring a quick incantation, he flicked his fingers toward the viper. Spell lightning shot across the room and enveloped the snake just as its fangs began to sink into Sarah’s flesh. The viper went limp, its head dropping to loll against the back of Sarah’s hand.

  Sebastian caught his breath, not sure if the spell had taken effect in time. If it hadn’t, he didn’t know what he’d do. He suspected that Sarah didn’t have any anti-venom, and even if she did, he doubted it would work. She’d directed the blasted beast to an artery. If any poison had gotten into her bloodstream, it had already pumped through her body. A full dose would have killed her immediately. How long would it take a small dose to take effect?

  He let out his breath in a relieved rush when Sarah suddenly spun toward him, her golden eyes flashing with fury as she accused, “You killed Willow!”

  Her anger reassured him the snake hadn’t bitten her. If it had, she wouldn’t have the energy to be railing at him.

  “I didn’t kill your damn snake. I stunned it,” he said, not bothering to explain that the only reason he hadn’t killed it was that type of spell would have taken longer. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, he scowled at her. “But if you make another stupid suicide attempt, I will kill the damn beast. Just what in hell were you trying to prove?”

  Ignoring him, she looked down at the limp rattler. Then she knelt and gently laid it on the floor. After stroking her hand along its length, she looked up at him, her expression one of hatred as she said, “I don’t know if you’re telling me the truth about Willow, but I do know I should have destroyed you when I had the chance. But you haven’t won yet, wicáhmunga. You can’t get anything from a dead person, and I’ll find a way to kill myself before I ever give it to you.”

  At her words, Sebastian rocked back on his heels and drummed the fingers of his right hand against his hip. He didn’t have to ask what “it” was. He was also baffled by her determination. Why would she be willing to sacrifice her life for the triangle? It didn’t make sense.

  He tried to brush against her mind to discover her reasoning. When he found himself again unable to connect with her, he became more baffled. His magic was back, so he should be able to link with her at will. Granted, she had strong psychic abilities, but even psychics were unable to barricade their mind against a member of his race. If she wore the triangle it might be able to imbue her with that much power, but he knew she didn’t have the object on her person. So why couldn’t he connect with her?

  He didn’t have the answer, and he decided that his best offense was to keep her talking until he could figure out what was going on.

  “Well, at least we’re making some progress,” he said. “You’re finally admitting that you have the triangle.”

  She didn’t respond, but climbed to her feet. After stepping over the snake, she stood in front of it like a sentry—her legs braced apart and her arms crossed over her chest.

  As she stared at him in belligerent silence, he heaved an irritated sigh and said, “Sarah, I can understand why you’re frightened of me. But as I said before, I’m not here to harm you or anyone else, so you don’t need to even consider taking your own life.”

  “I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t lend much credence to your claim,” she said. “Even a fool would realize that it’s to your advantage for me to stay alive until you can get what you want.”

  At her words, his temper flared. He wanted to go to her and shake her for being so damn stubborn, but he knew that would only make matters worse. So instead of acting on the impulse, he opened his mouth to argue with her. He stopped, however, when she lowered her gaze to stare intently at his chest.

  Automatically, he glanced down to see what had caught her attention and frowned. The triangle had a rosy hue that began to fade the moment he looked at it.

  As it returned to normal, he told himself it was just a reflection of the fire. But he hadn’t moved, so if it was a reflection, the color shouldn’t have faded.

  He shrugged uneasily, recalling that the triangle had been emitting a strange, white-hot light in the repository. When he’d stared at it he’d lost track of time.

  This isn’t the same. Not only was the color different, but I didn’t lose any time. It was probably just a reflection of the fire, and a breeze made the flames shift, which made the color disappear.

  The pep talk didn’t alleviate his apprehension. He hadn’t felt any breeze, and with the fire in the center of the cave, it would have taken a strong gust to stir the flames. Also, he didn’t know the magical properties of the triangle, and since it was a part of the talisman, it had to have some mystical function. To ignore any aberrant behavior would be foolish, but if he didn’t know what it meant, how could he counteract it?

  He couldn’t, but instinct told him that the triangle was a threat. The longer he wore it, the more vulnerable he would become. He needed to get Sarah’s triangle so he could stop the talisman before it could do any damage.

  Returning his gaze to Sarah, he noted that she regarded him with suspicion and fear. He cursed inwardly. As long as she feared him, she wasn’t going to cooperate.

  Sarah, I am not going to harm you, he thought compellingly, hoping that she could still read his mind. Maybe if she received the thought telepathically, she would believe him.

  When she didn’t even blink, he raked a hand through his hair. Either she couldn’t read his mind because his magic was back, or she was refusing to acknowledge his thoughts.

  He considered casting a spell to make her reveal the triangle’s whereabouts, but he quickly dismissed that option as too dangerous. Generally, mortals could easily be spellbound, but extreme fear made them impervious to normal magic. To bypass her fear, he’d have to use a potent spell. The mortal psyche was fragile, and there was no way he could determine exactly how much power she could handle. Instead of getting the triangle from her, he might end up destroying her mind.

  So what in hell am I going to do? he wondered in frustration. Unfortu­nately, there was only one safe solution. He had to tell her the truth. Or as much of it as necessary to make her understand the danger her triangle presented. And the first step in doing that was to make her feel at ease.

  He walked back to the fire and sat down beside it. Knowing that asking her to join him would be fruitless, he stared at the flames for a moment before glancing up at her.

  “Look, Sarah, ever since I arrived, we’ve been playing a game of one-upmanship, and the situation is getting out of hand. One of us has to stop fighting and start talking before someone gets hurt. Since I’m the stranger here and it’s clear that you distrust me—for valid reasons—I’m going to be that person, okay?”

  He hadn’t expected her to respond, but it still irked him when she didn’t. As the troubleshooter, he was accustomed to having people do whatever he wanted without question. Pride insisted he wait her out until she at least gave him the courtesy of an answer. But he knew that if he did that, he’d just be wasting time. He needed to resolve this issue so he could move on.

  “I’ll assume that your silence means you’re willing to listen,” he stated. “So I’ll begin by explaining why I’m here. Do you know what a talisman is?”

  When she still didn’t reply, he thought she was going to continue giving him the silent treatment. Then she surprised him by saying, “It’s an object that gr
ants supernatural powers or protection to its possessor.”

  He arched a brow, impressed. Most mortals wouldn’t know the purpose of a talisman. Indeed, they’d think it was a piece of junk jewelry and scoff at the thought that it might have supernatural abilities. But Sarah had not only known the definition, she obviously believed in the mystical. Otherwise, she would have said something like, “It’s supposed to grant supernatural powers.”

  He didn’t know why he was surprised that she believed. She was a Native American, and from what he’d read, many of their beliefs were grounded in the occult.

  “You’re exactly right,” he said. “And our triangles are pieces of a very dangerous talisman.”

  He paused, waiting to see if he’d aroused her curiosity sufficiently for her to finally start participating in the conversation.

  Again, she didn’t speak right away, but finally she asked, “Just how dangerous is it?”

  “I don’t know the exact extent of its power,” he hedged. It wasn’t a lie. He didn’t know for certain that the talisman was a doomsday device. “What I do know is that it was in Seamus Morpeth’s family for about 700 years. When Seamus’s father died, he inherited the talisman.

  “Apparently, until Seamus came into its possession, no one in the family had ever worn the object. But Seamus put it on and it corrupted him—made him evil. According to the records, he caused the death of several innocent people where he lived. After what you’ve said about his activities here, I have to believe those accounts are true.”

  “So how did he end up here?” Sarah asked next, still standing in her militant position in front of the snake, although her wary expression had relaxed somewhat.

  Sebastian rubbed a hand against the bridge of his nose. This was where the story would start to get tricky. He had to tell her enough to satisfy her, but he couldn’t reveal the existence of the coven.

  Dropping his hand to his lap, he said, “Seamus’s wife and . . . a friend of the family realized that Seamus had become dangerous. They drugged him so they could take the talisman away from him. Then they broke the talisman into three pieces—the two triangles and a circle—so it would be powerless. They buried the circle, and gave one of the triangles to Seamus, who was then banished into the wilderness. They thought that when he died, his triangle would be buried with him. With the two pieces buried so far apart, they were sure no one would ever be able to reassemble the talisman.”

  He started to say more, but Sarah interrupted, “Let me get this straight. Seamus killed several people. But instead of turning him over to the authorities to be punished, they give him a piece of this evil talisman and send him out into the wilderness to terrorize the Indians with it?”

  Sebastian frowned. Damn, he hadn’t handled the explanation well. The trouble was, he wasn’t sure how he could have explained it any other way without revealing too much.

  “It wasn’t exactly like that, Sarah.”

  “The hell it wasn’t!” she declared, dropping her arms to her sides and balling her hands into fists. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. After all, it’s just a new twist on the same old story. What does it matter if a few hundred Indians get tortured and killed? In the wasičun world they were—and, according to some, still are—just a bunch of savages with no social value . . .”

  “A few hundred?” Sebastian gasped in horror. When she’d told him what Seamus had done, he’d thought she was talking about a handful of people. Seamus hadn’t been evil, he’d been positively malevolent!

  “Don’t bother pretending to be shocked, wicáhmunga,” she drawled contemptuously. “You wear the triangle, so you know how it feeds on violence. You also know that the more it’s fed, the more voracious its appetite becomes. And that’s why you want the second triangle, isn’t it? Your triangle’s appetite has become so big that you can no longer satisfy it. But to give it more sustenance, you need more power, and the only way you can get that is to gain another piece of the talisman.

  “Well, you won’t get my triangle,” she went on before he could reply. “I am the guardian of my people, and I vowed to protect them from Seamus’s curse. I failed them by giving you the benefit of the doubt instead of killing you when I had the chance. But just because you manipulated yourself out of my trap doesn’t mean you’ve won. I’ve put my triangle where no one can find it, and no amount of torture will drag that information from me.”

  She paused to draw in a deep breath before finishing, “So if you want more power, go after John Butler and his circle. At least you’ll both be far away from here and forced to prey upon your own kind for a while. By the time one of you has destroyed the other and comes back here to finish the annihilation of my tribe, they will be prepared for you. You may end up winning, but you’ll be in for one hell of a fight before you do. That’s one thing we savages know how to do. Fight, even if it is a losing battle.”

  As Sebastian listened to her diatribe, a few pieces of the puzzle began to drop into place. He now understood her willingness to die for the tri­angle. She said she was a guardian and had vowed to protect her people from Seamus’s curse, which, evidently, was that her tribe would be destroyed.

  However, that piece of information was irrelevant when compared to her alarming reference to John Butler. Although she’d mentioned the man before, so much had happened that Sebastian had forgotten it. Now, however, he recognized the chilling importance of what she said.

  If this Butler truly had the circle, Sebastian’s mission was not only more urgent but also far more dangerous. All those years ago, Ulrich Morgret had felt the circle was the talisman’s major energy source, which was why he’d chosen to bury it instead of one of the triangles. With all three pieces now above ground, the circle wouldn’t need to be physically connected to the other two pieces to start its swath of destruction. And if it fell into the wrong hands . . .

  He quickly cut off the thought. The conclusion toward which it was heading was too frightening. Sarah had to be wrong. If Butler had discovered the circle, Sebastian would have connected with him, just as he’d connected with Sarah. But why would she lie to him?

  Because she wants the talisman for herself, that inner voice proposed. Think about it. She has Seamus’s triangle, and she’s probably known all along it was part of a talisman. But she didn’t know where the other pieces were, so she couldn’t do anything about it. Then you connected with her, and she realized that if she got your triangle, she could locate the circle. She doesn’t know the true purpose of the talisman. She just wants the power. Why else would she have been prepared to kill you the moment you arrived?

  Because of Seamus’s reign of terror, Sebastian answered.

  Do you really believe that Ulrich would have let Seamus live if he thought he was capable of such violence?

  As he studied Sarah, who stared at him with hatred, Sebastian shifted uncomfortably on the ground. The voice had a valid point. If Ulrich had suspected that Seamus was capable of such atrocities, he never would have let him live.

  But if Sarah was lying to him to get the pieces of the talisman, why had she tried to kill herself?

  It was a scheme to throw you off guard and gain your sympathy, the voice answered. Your magic had returned, and she knew she was powerless against you. You proved that to her during that little display of fantasy lovemaking. To make you release her from your power, she pulled the fake suicide stunt, counting on you to save her. If you hadn’t reacted, she would have simply called off the snake, or it’s possible that she’s immune to their venom. But even if she isn’t immune, she controls the rattlers, and that particular one is her pet. You can’t honestly believe it would have really bitten her.

  Now she’s making up this Butler so you’ll focus on him—or rather the fabri­cation—rather than on her, the voice went on. Face it. She’s made a fool of you again. You’d better resign as the troubleshooter and give the job
to a warlock who can’t be manipulated by powerless, mortal women.

  Sebastian clenched his fist at that last gibe, and his temper charged to the surface with the speed of a launching rocket. The voice was right. She had made a fool of him again, but she wouldn’t have another opportunity to do so. He’d get the triangle away from her tonight if he had to throttle her to get it.

  You’re letting your pride override your common sense again, a more rational voice nagged. You have no proof that Sarah is lying. Until you do, you must move cautiously with her, because if she is sincere, she might kill herself, and then where will you be?

  Getting the proof is easy, the first voice rejoined. Touch the triangle. If this Butler really does exist, you’ll connect with him.

  Sebastian immediately raised his hand toward the triangle.

  WHY DIDN’T I kill him when I had the chance? How could I have been such a fool? Sarah railed at herself as she watched the wicáhmunga.

  He hadn’t responded to her suggestion that he seek out John Butler for the circle. She wasn’t surprised. Why should he go looking for Butler when the man would eventually show up on his own? Then the two of them would battle over the talisman’s pieces, and whoever won would destroy her people.

  As she stared at the wicáhmunga, a hard knot of hatred formed in the pit of her stomach. Yet as much as she despised him, there was a traitorous part of her drawn toward him. She didn’t want to give that part a name, but she knew that to defeat it, she had to face it. Lust.

  The triangle’s final temptation, Sarah, Wanága suddenly whispered in her mind.

  As the import of his words hit her, Sarah felt the color drain from her face. He couldn’t be implying what she thought. She’d faced all the triangle’s temptations and beaten them. If she hadn’t, Leonard never would have made her the guardian. Besides, she wasn’t wearing the triangle, so there was no way it could tempt her.