Amethyst Destiny (9 page)

“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 slightly, 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, looking 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.”

She cocked her head. “Dude, I hate to tell you this, but blood is not flammable. The lamp can’t do anything with your blood but get wet.”

His gaze flicked up with a lift of his brow. “’Tis why it is called a magic lamp, aye?”

A magic lamp. Right. “You really think it needs your blood to work?”

“I asked the ring to show me and almost immediately felt the cut on my wrist. Have ye another thought?”

“I suppose not. But you’re losing a lot of blood.” And he was. He swayed ever so slightly, but she saw it. “You’re getting pale. Talon, seriously, screw the lamp. If we don’t get a tourniquet around your wrist, you’re going to bleed out and die.”

His gaze flicked to hers once more, a small charmer’s smile playing at his mouth. “And would ye miss me?”

She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Considering you and your ring are my only way home, I’d have to say yes. I’d miss you terribly,” she added dryly. But, God help her, she would.

Starting to feel a little frantic, she stared around her, trying to think of what she could possibly use to stop the bleeding. In the movies, the heroine would simply rip off a strip of her shift. Right. This shift was pretty damned thin, so it would probably rip easily enough. But what if it ripped the wrong way ... right up to her navel? Or was there something about the way the fabric was made ... the bias or something?

She knew squat about sewing. More about first aid and Talon was seriously bleeding too fast.

“I need a knife, Talon. Now,” she snapped.

The look he threw her was tinged with impatience, but he dutifully pulled a knife out of his boot and handed it to her, hilt first. While he bled into the lamp, she lifted her skirt and hacked at her shift until she finally had the bottom strip free. She stared at the frayed remains with dismay. In the movies, the strips always came away neat as a pin.

Dropping the knife on the ground, she grabbed his forearm, above the cut, but when she tried to pull it toward her, he turned a look on her of pure granite.

With a huff, she let go of him. “Talon, it already has enough of your blood. You need the rest.”

“If it had enough, I wouldna still be bleeding.”

She stared at him as comprehension slowly stole over her.

“Since the ring cut you, it will also mend you when you’ve bled enough?”

“Aye.”

“Great.” She sat back on her haunches with a disgusted sigh. “You could have mentioned that before I destroyed my nightgown. I hope the ring has the sense to heal you before you die.”

He cut his eyes at her, a smile pulling at his mouth, but said nothing more as the steady stream of blood slowed to a drip, then finally ceased altogether.

“Is it over?”

“Aye.”

She let out an impatient groan. “At last. Let me see your cut.”

To her surprise, he gave her his hand without argument. Instead of using the strip of linen as a tourniquet, she used it to wipe away the blood from around his wound, needing to see for herself he was healing.

Sure enough, the cut had closed as if it had been healing for days. She seriously needed to get one of those rings.

“Healed, is it not?” he asked drowsily.

Her head jerked up and she looked at him. “Your arm’s healed, but you’re not.” He was white as a sheet. “Talon, you need to lie down before you pass out and spill the blood from your lamp.” Damn. She dropped his hand onto his thigh and grabbed up the bloody lamp before he did just that. She set the lamp on a rock on the other side of the narrow cave and hurried back to Talon’s side before he pitched over. Though how she’d stop him was beyond her. He must outweigh her three to one.

“I’ll be fine in a thrice.” But his words were soft, his eyes unfocused.

“You’re going into shock.”

She grabbed his strong jaw, leaving bloody fingerprints on his skin as she tilted his face to where she could get a good look at him. “Don’t pass out on me, okay?”

His eyes focused on her, slowly gaining in intensity until the look in them started doing things to her insides. Hot, quivery things.

“A kiss would make me feel better,” he mumbled.

Julia rolled her eyes. “A kiss would send all the blood rushing to your groin, which would do nothing to help you stay conscious, Braveheart. No kisses.”

Oh, but the thought of feeling the sweep of his tongue in her mouth again sent pleasure rushing through her body. If she didn’t turn her thoughts, she was going to be as light-headed as he was.

Without warning, he listed forward, right into her arms.

“Talon.” She grabbed him, the solid weight of him almost too much for her. “I’m going to push you back and lay you down, okay? You need to lie down.” Thank goodness he was already sitting on the ground. If she had to get him off a stool or a rock, they would really be in trouble.

One hand behind his head to cradle it, she pushed him back. He looped an arm around her waist and took her down with him. He settled back onto the floor of the cave with her locked on top of him, her cheek pressed against his.

“Talon, let me go.”

“Wheesht, lass. Quiet now. I’ll be right as rain in a few moments, but the feel of you eases me. Let me hold ye, Julia, until the cave stops listing, aye?”

She tried to lever herself up, but dizzy or not, his strength was like steel.

“Shh, lass. Quiet now.”

With a sigh of frustration, she gave in, relaxing against him as best she could, but she was too far forward. There was no way to rest her head except to press her cheek to his. Which she finally did. His sleep-warmed scent stole through her senses.

His lips pressed against the lobe of her ear, sending a shiver of pleasure running through her body. She opened her mouth to admonish him, then closed it again knowing it wouldn’t do a bit of good. In a few minutes, he’d be recovered. She hoped. Then he’d let her up. Once again,
she hoped
. There was no telling what might happen with this man.

His lips moved, pressing against her neck just below her ear. His warm breath sent excitement churning in her blood.

As his injured hand slid into her hair, the arm that pinned her loosened, his hand sliding down to grab her rear. A dose of cold reality dampened her desire.

“That’s it. You’re fine.” She pushed against his chest. “Let me go.”

Amazingly, he did. As she scrambled out of his reach, he sat up and then dipped his head between his knees.

She was kneeling at his side a moment later. “Are you okay?” Without consciously intending to, she pressed her palm against his back in case he passed out.

He lifted his head and met her gaze. “Aye.” His face was still too pale, but not the scary white of before.

“You’re getting your color back. That’s some seriously potent magic, Talon.”

He nodded once, an enticing blend of mischief and warmth lighting the blue depths of his eyes, doing funny things to her insides. “I thank ye for seeing to my wound.”

“You’re welcome.” She felt off balance again. How could he knock her feet out from under her with every look, every smile? It was so unfair.

To her dismay, he moved as if he intended to try to stand.

Julia clamped her hand on his shoulder. “What do you need? Let me get it for you.”

“The lamp.”

“Wait here.” She jumped to her feet and retrieved the bloody lamp, then set it in the dirt in front of him.

She settled, cross-legged, on the ground beside him as he tried to light the macabre thing, wanting to be close enough to snatch it away, or grab him, if he started to get faint again.

When the fire flared, nearly bursting from the lamp, she gasped and reared back, staring with disbelief. She’d never really expected him to be able to light the blood.

“It worked,” she said with surprise.

“Of course.” He tossed her a quick grin. “Like magic.”

Julia rolled her eyes.

Talon leaned forward. “Show me where to find the Fire Chalice of Veskin.”

Almost at once, something started to happen. The same oddly warm tingling she felt every time Talon called his magic ran over her skin.

A picture formed in the flames, a surprisingly clear picture of a castle—a lovely castle with a pinkish cast to the stone and four large towers, one of which was round.

“Look at it,” she breathed.

“I dinna recognize it,” Talon muttered. “Show me the nearest town.”

The castle disappeared. Moments later, a new picture took its place. A small village, this time, from the vantage point of someone walking right through the middle of it. It reminded her, in a way, of Williamsburg, Virginia, with its row of painted shops squished together. A sign above one of the stores read
Jamie McBean, Merchant.

“Bollocks,” Talon muttered.

“Do you recognize it?”

“Nay, I do not.” He took a deep breath and let it out on a frustrated huff. “Show me ... how to get there from here.”

As before, the village disappeared. Moments later, another scene arose. Nothing but trees and bushes, looking just like ...

“That’s the view outside the cave,” Julia said.

“Aye,” he said with some asperity. “’Tis clearly the direction we must travel, though a bit more help would be appreciated. This lamp is almost as troublesome as the ring,” he grumbled.

Julia looked up at him. “Can I try one?”

Talon met her gaze and nodded. “Aye.”

She leaned forward, belatedly realizing she’d gripped his thigh at some point, and snatched her hand back. Chewing on her bottom lip, she debated how to ask the question she had to know. Her pulse began to thrum. Finally, she simply blurted the words.

“Show me what I have to do to get home.”

But the scene of the woods outside the cave remained. Nothing changed. Nothing happened. Time stood still as she held her breath, waiting.

The lamp wasn’t giving her an answer. Either that or it didn’t have an answer to give.

A cold, damp sweat crawled across her scalp.
Please, God. Please don’t tell me I can’t go home.

Talon’s gaze swung to Julia as she stared at the flame. He was still feeling a bit light-headed from the loss of blood, but far less so than moments ago. When the ring’s magic injured him, it healed him just as quickly. Now it was Julia whose cheeks had paled. And not from lack of blood.

No. The flame was refusing to answer her query, and she was reading much into that. Her fearful thoughts were clear in her eyes.

He squeezed her shoulder lightly, feeling the need to reassure. “It may mean naught, lass.” But what if her fears were founded? What if the lamp’s refusal to show her how to get home meant she wasn’t going home?

The dismay he expected rose inside him, but oddly muted. Conflicted. He wanted her gone, of course he did. He had no room for a companion in this life of his. And yet ... he’d slept better last night, with the lass in his arms, than he had in years.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to explore the reason for that.

Julia looked up at him, worry sharp in her eyes. “What do you think it means that it won’t answer me?”

“I dinna ken.” Talon turned to the flame. “Show me where to find the Fire Chalice of Veskin within the castle where it hides.”

Still nothing happened.

“Do you see anything?” Julia asked, breathlessly.

He met those pretty, mismatched eyes, and watched the flicker of hope spark in their depths. If the lamp now refused him, too, its lack of answer to her question no longer rang with the ominous knell it had a moment before.

“Nay. I see nothing.” He turned back to the lamp. “Show me the whereabouts of the men searching for you.”

Again, he waited and again, no scene arose in the flame. Then, as if doused with water from an invisible hand, the flame went out, casting them back into the gloom of the cave.

“Bloody lamp,” Talon muttered.

Julia laughed, the sound low and soft, and infinitely lovely.

He turned to her, bemused. “Ye laugh,” he said, enchanted. Clearly, his own lack of response from the lamp had doused her fears.

A smile playing at her lips, dancing in her eyes. “Sorry, but your calling it a bloody lamp struck me funny, seeing as that’s exactly what it is.”