Amethyst Destiny (17 page)

But the well of elation drained out of her.

Talon was gone. Out of her life.

Her heart twisted with regret. And gratitude.

For all his faults, he’d given her more in the past few days than anyone else had in thirty years. Not only had he risked his life to save her, but he’d helped her see herself in a different light. He’d helped her understand the lonely girl, desperate for attention, that she’d been at fourteen. And, perhaps, to forgive her.

He’d seen inside her and then opened her eyes to what she really wanted from life. To teach. And to have someone in her life who cared about her. Because deep down she was beginning to realize she was still that lonely girl.

She pressed her palm against the ache in her chest. If only Talon had come into her real life, and not this strange detour to the past. He had faults, heaven knew he had his faults, but there was goodness inside him, too.

He was so much more than a thief and she knew it. He’d made a promise to procure the chalice and he didn’t go back on his promises. Which was honorable, wasn’t it?

And there was no doubt he was courageous. He’d fought and killed four men to save her when she meant little to him. Most men would have shrugged helplessly and let them have her, but he hadn’t done that. He’d saved her. And held her when she’d desperately needed a comforting touch. He’d wanted to make love to her, and while he might have tried to talk her into it a time or two, he’d never pushed her too far. He’d never hurt her.

Without a doubt, Talon MacClure was far from perfect, but deep down he was a good man.

She wondered if he knew that.

With a sudden, pulsing pain, she knew she would never get the chance to tell him.

He’d told her good-bye.

A cold emptiness swept through her, leaving her feeling like a lonely, hollow shell.

The tears began to roll.

Talon waited for the castle’s inhabitants to find their beds before he slipped from his chamber to retrieve the chalice.

As he stole through the castle now, spiraling deep into the bowels of the fortress, his feet felt like lead, his chest heavy as stone.

He’d seen Julia Brodie for the very last time. She should matter to him no longer. Yet her final words would not cease their incessant echo in his head.

You can be a better man.

But she was wrong. He was who he was and he could not change. He didn’t want to change! He was the Wizard. The Wizard was his life.

Though for a few short days, he’d had something more. Companionship with a bonny, difficult, darling lass. A lass who couldn’t stay in this world, and wouldn’t stay with him even if she could. Even the Wizard wasn’t good enough for her.

She’d told him she wanted him to be Talon. Just Talon. But she didn’t understand what that meant. And she’d turn away from him if she knew the true man, the man who’d grown from that miserable, useless boy. A boy who’d killed his own father.

No, Julia would not want him in any form. She would never be his.

If only he could get her voice out of his head.

At the base of the stairs, he slipped out the door and into the castle courtyard, sliding into the shadows before he was spotted. The night was cool and still, the air stirring lightly around him. The smell of the stables carried to him pleasantly, but the horses he and Julia had ridden here would have to remain at Picktillum. He’d find another way out, an escape without the ring’s help, for he’d not risk the ring choosing a fire for its distraction again. He would not risk Julia’s safety. Not even for his own.

Staying to the shadows, he began the search for the cellar he’d seen in his vision.

On his third try, he found it. The moment he slipped in through the heavy wooden door and saw the stacks of barrels, he knew. The scent of damp earth and dried spices teased his nose as he moved, unerringly, for the low crevice along the back wall. He knelt and reached his hand inside. His fingers brushed against cool metal. Triumph sought to flare within him, but managed only a flicker before winking out.

He’d found what he’d come for.

But all he could see in his mind’s eye was Julia’s look of disappointment. In him.

You can be a better man.

Bollocks. He was who he was.

Curling his fingers around the base, he pulled the chalice from its hiding place and slipped it into the waist of his pants, careful to cover the golden treasure with his waistcoat. Rising, he turned and made his way back to the door, then slipped back out into the night.

And discovered he was not alone.

Rourke Douglas, Viscount Kinross, stood waiting for him, his arms crossed over his chest. Two of his kinsmen flanked him, one on either side.

Talon pulled his knife.

Kinross’s men pulled knives of their own while Kinross himself just eyed him coldly.

“What were you doing in there, Hertford?”

Too late, Talon realized his mistake. He shouldn’t have turned defensive. He should have claimed he was seeking out a lass or some such rot. His thoughts of Julia had him dangerously off balance.

Now that he’d pulled his knife he had no choice but to fight his way out. To kill or be killed.

Rourke held out his hand. “You’ll return what you’ve stolen.”

Talon’s muscles tensed for the fight. But he hesitated as he’d never done before. Three against one were not the best odds, but he’d managed with worse.

The problem was Julia.

She would never forgive him if he killed Brenna’s husband. Jesu, but she’d never forgive him if he killed any of these men.

Deep inside him, the Wizard scowled.
Use the ring to even the odds. Then fight. All that matters is fulfilling the mission. It’s all that’s ever mattered.

Until a few days ago, that had been true. Until Julia Brodie dropped into his life and flipped it end over end.

He stared into Rourke Douglas’s pale eyes and imagined the bitter anguish in Julia’s own if he killed the man. The disappointment he’d already seen in those bonny mismatched eyes had nearly driven him to his knees.

You can be a better man than this.

The Wizard muttered angrily in his head.
She doesn’t matter You’ll never see her again. Take the damned chalice and do whatever you must to escape Picktillum. Whatever you must. Sometimes men must die.

But even absent, Julia’s presence hovered, sharp and warm beside him, drawing a fierce need in him to be the man she wanted him to be.

With a hard release of air, he shoved his knife into its sheath. He pulled the chalice out from under his waistcoat and held it out to Kinross.

Kinross took the chalice. “Tie him.”

Talon bit down hard on his pride as he put his hands behind his back and allowed them to truss him up like a pig for slaughter. Everything inside him railed against giving in. Giving up. But he did it for Julia.

“Wake Brenna,” Kinross told one of his men. “And Julia. I’ll await them in the solar.”

Talon’s stomach turned ill. “Leave Julia. She had naught to do with this.”

Kinross met his gaze with eyes as cold as frost. “We shall see.”

Two of the men grabbed his arms and steered him up the stairs and along the passages like a common criminal. Talon’s insides knotted and twisted as he forced himself to submit instead of fight. As his forehead burned with equal measures of anger and shame.

He’d allowed them to take him without a fight. Yet now he was to be forced to stand before Julia, caught and tied, at his lowest since that day twenty years ago when Hegarty first found him.

The disappointment he’d seen in her eyes would take on the hard disgust he’d lived with for the first fifteen years of his life.

In trying to live up to her expectations, he’d become the very thing the world—himself in particular—reviled.

Talon MacClure.

FOURTEEN

“Julia?”

Julia woke to the sound of a soft, feminine query and pried open her gritty eyelids against the weight of too little sleep. A woman stood in the doorway, her face shadowed, but familiar.

“Brenna?” Julia levered herself onto her elbow. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, but I think you’d better come.” Her new friend’s words were troubled. Maybe even wary.

Something had happened.

“Talon.”

“He’s okay, if that’s what you’re thinking. Rourke has him in the solar.”

Has him.
The implied
against his will
was left unsaid. He’d been caught stealing the chalice. That was the only explanation.

As Julia climbed from the bed, Brenna crossed the room to her, holding out what appeared to be a velvet bathrobe. “I thought you might need something to put on. I remember what it’s like to have no clothes but the ones on your back.”

Brenna’s tone lacked the warmth of before, but fell short of actually being cool. As if she’d yet to cast the blame on Julia, too. For now.

Julia pulled on the robe, tied the sash around her waist, and followed Brenna out of the room and down to the solar. Brenna entered first, Julia close behind.

When Julia saw Talon, she stopped, a hard fist tightening around her heart. He was kneeling on the floor, his hands tied behind his back, two of Kinross’s men standing on either side of him, pressing his shoulders down, though Talon didn’t seem to be struggling. He stared straight ahead, not meeting her gaze, his face a hard, inscrutable mask.

Rourke paced in front of the hearth, his jaw tight and hard. On the table sat the chalice.

The friendliness of before had vanished. They knew Talon for what he was now.

A thief.

Julia looked unhappily from Talon to Rourke, and back again, feeling the weight of her secrets, her earlier silence. Rourke must know she was involved, too, otherwise why would he have had her brought here? Was he intending to tie her, too?

No, he knew she was from the future. He’d know that whatever her involvement, it had been recent and likely unintentional.

“Why did you come to Picktillum?” Rourke demanded, turning to Talon.

Julia looked away, knowing he’d lie and not wanting to hear it.

“I came to find the chalice. To take it back to the man who claims he’s the rightful owner.”

“And who is that?”

“Niall Brodie, the chieftain of the Brodies of Loch Laggan.”

Julia’s gaze jerked to him in surprise. “The Brodies of Loch Laggan?”

Rourke’s gaze pinned her. “That surprises you?”

“I’m descended from the Brodies of Loch Laggan. My father was the youngest son of the laird. In my ...” Time, she finished silently, her voice dying as she remembered the other men in the room. Men who didn’t know she’d come from the future.

The viscount’s pale eyes narrowed, but his gaze turned to Talon. “How much of what you told me is the truth? About Hegarty? About Julia?”

Talon turned and met her gaze. Trying to silently warn her not to tell the others the truth, no doubt, though she saw nothing that looked like a warning in his eyes.

No, the look in his eyes didn’t feel like a warning, but a plea. A promise.

He turned to look at Rourke. “I’ll tell you want you wish to know, but I’ll have no audience but you and your viscountess. And Julia.”

Kinross looked at him long and hard. “You’ll stay on your knees or I’ll kill you.” The look in those pale, pale eyes promised he’d make good on his word.

Talon nodded.

The viscount motioned his men to the door with a sharp move of his head. “Ye’ll be leaving us.”

When the door closed behind the two men, Talon met the viscount’s pale gaze. “Little of what I told ye was the truth.” His eyes swung to Julia.

Again, she felt that promise. As if the words he meant to say were for her and her alone.

“I wear Hegarty’s ring,” he said quietly. The truth. He’d given Rourke the truth. As a gift, his eyes said. A gift for her.

A sweet warmth fluttered over her skin. Soft emotion caressed her heart and made her eyes ache as she held his gaze.

Dear God, he’d
let
himself be captured, she realized. He hadn’t fought them.

For her.

What if they killed him?

“You came into my house to steal from me?” Rourke asked coldly.

“Aye.”

Rourke motioned to the chalice. “How did you know where to find that thing? How did you know it was here?”

“As I said, I wear Hegarty’s ring.”

“Magic,” Brenna said softly. “Were you in the future, too?”

“Nay.”

“Then why did he give it to you?”

Talon shrugged. “I was a lad.”

Brenna nodded. “Hegarty seems to have a soft spot for children in need. I’d assumed he’d sent them all to the future.”

“The ring provided the things I needed. I’ve learned to make it help me ... find things.”

“What things?” Rourke demanded coldly.

Talon met his gaze, his mouth hardening. “Whatever I’m paid to retrieve.”

Rourke stilled, his eyes widening with understanding. “You’re the Wizard.” A small, humorless laugh escaped his throat.

“Aye.”

Silence reigned for another minute, then the viscount swung that pale gaze to her.

“How did Julia get here?”

Talon took a deep breath and let it out in a single harsh rush. “The ring called her. Apparently the amethyst has the ability to call the other stones. Why it called her to me, I’ve yet to discover. I ask the ring for something and it gives me a clue. Or a tool, which it takes away again when I’m done with it. I believe the amethyst will send her home when she’s performed whatever task it brought her here for.”

Brenna made a sound of disbelief. “I can’t believe Hegarty hasn’t come for your ring yet. He’s already taken my sapphire.”

“He’s come for it.” Talon met Julia’s gaze again. “He’s come for both of our stones.”

Julia started. “When?”

“Last night. In the inn. You were sound asleep. He couldna wake you and he couldna take the stone from you without your consent.”

“If I’d been awake ... he would have sent me home?”

Talon nodded. “Aye.” He swallowed and looked away, breaking the bond of their gazes. “He knows you dinna belong here. He’ll send you home.”

“He didn’t try to take your ring?”

His gaze swung back to her. “He tried. I kicked him out of the inn.” His face grew hard.
“He’ll not take my ring.”

Brenna frowned. “So you didn’t know our connection to Hegarty when you came to Picktillum?”

“Nay,” Talon said. “The ring told me this was where I would find the chalice I’ve been sent to find. And it was.”

“Seems massively coincidental, doesn’t it?” Brenna asked.

Julia looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“Hegarty’s ring sends you to Hertford—”

“Talon.”

Brenna nodded. “Hegarty’s ring sends you to Talon, then the two of you to us. Maybe it really is just a coincidence, but it seems unlikely, doesn’t it?”

Rourke picked up the chalice and ran his thumb across the inch-long etchings around the rim. “I’ve never seen this thing before.”

“Then how did it get here?” Brenna asked.

“I dinna ken.” Kinross handed the chalice to Brenna, then pulled out a long, wicked-looking knife and turned to Talon.

Julia froze.

Brenna gasped.
“Rourke.”

But while Talon watched him carefully, he didn’t seem concerned.

Rourke scowled. “I’m just going to untie him.” When he’d cut Talon’s ropes, he said, “Have a seat.”

Talon nodded once and rose. “Niall Brodie claims the chalice, the Fire Chalice of Veskin, is theirs, stolen sometime within the past twenty years. He doesn’t know when it was taken or by whom. The Brodies didn’t realize it was missing until recently and don’t know how long it’s been gone.”

“So, when you were hired to find it, your ring told you to come here?”

Talon snorted. “In a roundabout, pain-in-the-arse way. The ring does as the ring does.”

“Sounds like a Hegarty ring,” Brenna muttered.

“Can I see the chalice?” Julia asked, intensely curious about the thing now.

Brenna handed it to her. Julia expected to feel cool metal. But as her fingers came in contact with the gold, shock ripped up her hands and into her arms, an electrical current that short-circuited her brain.

Her vision went black.

And suddenly she wasn’t in the castle anymore, but a dark, firelit cave. A cave that smelled of copper and excrement and fear.

Shadows danced on walls splattered in bright red paint.

No, not paint.

Blood.

Talon lunged for Julia, grabbing her before she fell. As he swept her into his arms, the chalice fell from her fingers to land with a thud on the tapestry that adorned the floor.

“Julia.”

Her lashes fluttered up, her eyes dark against a face as pale as death. Eyes filled with horror. But she was alive and he could breathe again.

“What happened?” she asked, her gaze catching his and clinging.

“’ Tis what we all wish to know,” Rourke said.

Talon felt a shudder go through her. “Easy, lass. You’re safe.” He lowered himself to the sofa, holding her tight against his chest.

Julia hooked her arm around his neck, making no move to leave him. “I saw something. A cave. Blood.”

“Do you get visions like this often?” Brenna asked.

“No. Never.” She was shaking even as perspiration dampened her brow.

“Do you think it was the chalice?” Brenna asked. “Or the necklace? Or maybe the combination of the two? We
are
dealing with Hegarty’s magic, after all.”

Julia sat up straighter, her fingers going to the jewel at her throat as she looked at Brenna. “Do you think if I take it off, I won’t see the blood?”

Brenna shrugged. “I have no idea. I was just wondering out loud.”

Julia’s fingers closed around the small stone—the thing that had sent her through time and would send her home again. Her thumb brushed over the smooth surface. Taking a deep breath, she pulled it off over her head.

Talon held out his hand, wondering if she would trust him with it this time. Without hesitation, she dropped it into his palm, then made a move as if to rise off his lap to retrieve the chalice.

He held her fast, unwilling to let her go.

As if reading his mind, Brenna picked up the chalice and handed it to him.

Julia reached for it, then stilled, her arm tightening around his neck as if afraid to touch it again.

“You don’t have to do this,” he told her softly.

She glanced at him, meeting his gaze with troubled eyes. “I need to know.” With another deep breath, she reached for the chalice. The moment her fingers touched the gold, she jerked, then froze. Her eyes started to roll back into her head.

Talon yanked the cursed cup out of her hands and dropped it to the floor, gathering her tight against him. Her head fell to his shoulder, but she groaned, telling him she remained conscious.

“Julia?” he asked worriedly.

“I saw ... the cave again, only . . .”

When she didn’t immediately reply, Talon gently ran his fingers into her hair, pushing it back from her face. “What, lass? Only ... what?”

“It was different. Daylight instead of firelight.”

“No blood this time?”

She shuddered and he pulled her closer. “Lots of blood, the same as before. But something else this time. A foot. Just ... a severed, bloody foot. A girl’s, I think.”

“Perhaps some kind of animal got to her.” Talon pressed her head to his shoulder and stroked it gently as her body began to tremble violently.

“Did anyone else see it?” Julia asked softly.

“Nay. Only you. You’ve a gift, lass. Mayhap the chalice is the conduit.”

“More Hegarty magic,” Brenna muttered.

“A gift?” Julia snorted. “Where can I return it?”

Talon rubbed his chin over hair. “Perhaps you’re seeing the future. Or the past.”

Julia made a sound of dismay. “Do you think this is why the ring called me? Because I’m supposed to see something in the chalice?”

“I canna say. But you needn’t touch it again if ye dinna wish to.”

She shuddered. “I don’t. Ever.”

“I’m with you,” Brenna said softly. “Do we really need this thing, Rourke?”

“Nay.” The viscount shook his head. “Take it with you when you go, Wizard. I dinna ken why that thing is in my home, but I want it gone. If the Brodie wants it, the Brodie can have it.”

Talon nodded. Finally, he had what he wanted. What he’d come for. Yet he felt no satisfaction. No elation.

It was time to go. Time to take the chalice and leave Julia behind. Hegarty would see her safely home. He believed that.

But his hands refused to loosen their grip on the woman in his arms. He met Rourke’s gaze. “May I remain until first light?” He stroked Julia’s hair. “Until I’m certain she’s recovered?”

Rourke studied him for a moment, then nodded.

Talon rested his chin lightly on the top of her head, feeling as if his chest would cave. How was he to leave her behind?