Amethyst Destiny (11 page)

But she’d not welcome his kiss again so soon, he was certain of it. Not when he’d frightened her.

The thought gave him pause. Is that what he’d done? Frightened her?

His conviction remained that she was as skittish as a virgin. And it was high time he treated her as such. Even if it killed him.

Which it well might.

He released her the moment her feet touched the ground, while his good intentions still held firm. As she turned away and attempted to work the stiffness out of her legs, he pleaded his case for saddles from his ring, then grabbed the reins of the horses and led them down to the burn.

“Are ye ready to ride again?” he asked as she walked beside him.

“I think I lost my skill.”

“Mayhap the ring will return it.”

She gave him a look that was an odd mix of shyness and excitement. “Could you teach me to ride? For real?”

A smile broke over his face and he had to clench his hands to keep from brushing a loose wisp of golden hair from across her cheek. “Aye. Once we have saddles. If the skill doesna come back to you.”

She grinned at him, sending his heart tumbling end over end in his chest. “Okay.”

At the water’s edge, she knelt and scooped water into her hands as he knelt beside her and did the same. When they’d had enough, they rose and paced while the horses drank their fill.

“Talon, what will you do after you deliver the chalice to your client? Will you go home? To the Highlands?” Her hood was back, her golden head a beacon lighting the dreary day. Bonny, bonny lass.

“Nay. I’ll take another job. There are always people wanting the services of the Wizard.”

Her head cocked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity and intelligence. “How do they find you?”

“I’ve a man in Inverness to whom they go. I seek him out, he tells me about the inquiries, and makes the arrangements for the one I choose. Rarely do I meet with the clients directly. The fewer who’ve seen the face of the Wizard, the better.”

“That makes sense, especially when you have to go in undercover like you did at Castle Rayne. Do they pay you, these clients?”

“Aye. Half the silver when I agree to the work. Half upon completion.”

“Do you get a lot of these missions?”

“I always have tasks awaiting me. Most, I turn down, either for lack of time, or because they’ve offered too little silver.”

A glint of respect lit her eyes that pleased him immensely. “You must have quite a reputation, to be so much in demand. Built entirely on word-of-mouth advertising.”

“I am the Wizard. The Wizard never fails.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Because of your ring.”

Nothing showed in her face, but he felt the prick of her censure and it annoyed him. Clearly, she was implying he’d fail without the magic.

Whispers from his own distant past taunted him, carried on the breeze.
Talon Manure. Ye worthless piece of shite.

His jaw hardened and he turned away. The horses were still without saddles and still in need of rest, or he’d mount and be gone. He’d no more desire to speak of his ring.

But the lass wasn’t through with her questions. “What do you do with your silver?”

At first he didn’t answer, but she’d no inkling she’d touched a nerve. And they had time on their hands. “I have it stashed in half a dozen different places. Hidden where none will find it.”

“Yet you don’t even need it, do you? The ring gives you everything.”

Was that ridicule in her tone?

He glared at her. “No man ever has enough silver.” But he rarely thought of his stashes. They meant little to him. Perhaps because, as she said, he needed nothing as long as he had the amethyst.

“Do you ever think about doing something more with your magic? Like feeding the poor or healing the sick, or any of that stuff?”

“Nay.” His voice was sharp. He was done with her tedious questions. “I live my life. ’Tis every man for himself in this world.” It had always been that way. “Stay here,” he snapped, and strode away, trying to regain control over his rising temper.

She didn’t know what his life had been like. She barely understood his world at all. How could she when she’d come from a world where she never even had to face the rain?

The ring was his life. Even if Hegarty came for it as he’d once promised, he’d be leaving empty-handed.

The old fear clawed at his innards. Hegarty’s return was a nightmare he’d lived with for nigh on twenty years. Though, in truth, he had little doubt the ring could disappear on him even without Hegarty’s appearance. Every morning when he woke, the first thing he did was feel for it upon his finger.

Every moment of every day he lived with the ever-present fear that the ring would disappear as surely as his chaplain’s robes and his beard had. That he’d be left without his strength, without his abilities. Without his life.

The Wizard dead.

Only Talon would remain.

His jaw clenched hard against the waking nightmare whose dark breath perpetually grazed the back of his neck. The worst of it was there was nothing he could do to stop it. Except avoid home and any chance of running into Hegarty again.

And hoard his silver against that dark day.

NINE

Talon walked off his pique at Julia’s tiresome questioning of his life then returned to where she waited for him by the burn.

She watched him return, her expression guarded, her mouth tight with temper and disapproval.

Her temper only reignited his own. She knew little of his world and nothing of his life. It was not her place to judge him.

Neither spoke. He sat on the banks of the burn, where he could watch for the saddles to appear, his temper slowly dying away as it was wont to do. His was not a temperament that lent itself easily to anger. Particularly since the amethyst had entered his life and his beast of a father had left it.

They waited for a goodly time, Julia pacing impatiently, as if unused to idleness.

Finally, she turned to him, frustration ripe in her eyes. “How long does it take a horse to recover, anyway?”

Talon shrugged. “The animals are well-rested.”

She looked at him with that same raw impatience. “Then what are we waiting for?”

“The saddles.”

“Can’t we ride while we wait?”

Talon shook his head ruefully. “I tried that once. Ended up with a saddle on my head.”

Her brows drew down in comic disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Nay, I am not. The ring has a vexing sense of mischief. If a saddle appears under the hooves of one of the horses, it could hobble him.”

Julia sighed, the sound loud and frustrated. “What if the saddles aren’t coming? It doesn’t always give you what you ask for, does it?”

“Not always, nay. Though it will usually give me what I need.”

She gave him a dubious look. “Maybe it doesn’t think we need saddles.”

Talon winked at her, suddenly wishing to ease her out of her dudgeon. “The ring’s seen ye ride, eh?”

The look she turned on him broke, her mouth turning up on one side in a reluctant smile. It was enough.

Her expression turned rueful. “There is that.”

Magic tingled over his skin. Julia’s head snapped to the horses expectantly.

As they watched, saddles appeared on the two beasts, causing them to nicker and sidestep with alarm.

Talon rose and went to them, settling them, then helped Julia mount. To his relief, she didn’t seem to need his assistance. Her riding seat had returned.

As they set out, side by side, the wind picked up. Talon had taken off his own robe and folded it beneath him, not needing the warmth. But Julia remained in hers. The stiff breeze had blown back her hood and now blew through her golden hair. He rather liked the way the wind lifted the short tresses, tossing them playfully about her bonny face in a way that would only tangle long hair.

He was beginning to like everything about this lass, he realized. The thought made him frown.

They’d ridden fewer than a dozen miles in silence when they crested a low hill to find a small village in the distance below.

“A town,” Julia said beside him. “Is that the one we’re looking for?”

“I dinna ken. We’ll have to ride into it.”

She looked at him, hope bright in the green eye that pinned him. “Any chance we can go inside somewhere and warm up?”

“Are ye cold, then?”

She looked to the front again, nodding. “I’m soaked through.”

As was he, but he was more than used to it. Physical discomfort meant little to him and rarely bothered him unless it was extreme. But she was a lass. A soft lass, to be sure, if she lived her life within the confines of walls. And he’d not have her sicken.

If he were alone, he’d stop to rest his horse and eat whatever the ring provided for his meal. But her words came back to him.
You depend on that ring for everything, don’t you? What if you lost it? Would you even know how to fend for yourself?

His pride rose, pricked by her comments. She knew naught. And yet ... Well, he had some coin in his purse.

“We’ll find the tavern, and get a meal and a spot before the fire to warm you. Does that please you?” He asked the question perhaps more sharply than he’d intended, but she didn’t seem to notice.

The look she turned on him was one of true delight. Her eyes gleamed, her smile radiated such purity, such beauty, his chest began to ache. His lungs ceased to function. He felt slain.

“Thanks, Talon.” Her words held a wealth of warm sincerity as she stole that joyous gaze from him and turned it toward the village.

But his own gaze remained firmly on her, as if she’d enchanted him. Enslaved him.

Jesu, what just happened?
As he stared at her decidedly delicate profile, at the golden halo of her hair, he felt under the thrall of magic, but a magic that was hers and not his ring’s.

He scowled, fighting against the pull of her. Her time in this century was short. At any moment the ring might snatch her away from him and send her home. To feel anything for her was a mistake. He knew that.

Yet feel he did. Curiosity and empathy. Admiration and protectiveness. Affection and desire. More with every passing mile.

He longed to taste her kiss again with a need that made his hands shake. And he desperately wanted her beneath him as he had almost from the start. But what he wished for most, as daft as it sounded in his own head, was simply to bask in the beauty of her smile.

Daft as a loon.

His anger sparked with frustration. Never had he let a woman turn his head. He’d be the greatest of fools to allow this one to now.

He urged his mount forward, needing to escape his thoughts and the lass’s smile before he did something truly stupid.

Like beg her to stay.

They rode into the village less than an hour later. Though it was similar in nature to the one he’d seen in the flames, he knew at once this one was not the town he sought. But he found the tavern with ease and soon had Julia ensconced in front of the fire, her damp cloak laid out to dry, her golden hair wind-tossed yet lovely around her face.

He wasn’t the only one intrigued by her beauty. Only four men shared the tavern with them, but not one had taken his gaze off the lass for more than a handful of seconds since their arrival. He doubted any one of them had seen a lass such as her before. An achingly lovely lass with too-short hair and mismatched eyes.

Julia seemed unaware of the gazes turned her way. Either that or she was so used to such attention, she’d learned to ignore it. Instead, she ate her lamb stew with obvious relish. Her pleasure fueled his own and though he tried to steel himself against her, he lost the fight quickly. She was sunshine and color in a world that had never been anything but shades of gray.

He’d felt more alive in the hours since her arrival than he had in all the years that had come before.

The realization startled and dismayed him, for he knew she wouldn’t stay. He resented that his eyes had been opened to what he’d been missing. Companionship. Perhaps even friendship.

He scowled inwardly at his self-absorbed musings. Since when did he need a companion?

Julia’s being here was a blight on his peace of mind. She knew things about him no one else knew. Things that could put him in grave danger. The sooner she was gone, the sooner he was alone again, the better.

But his gaze drank in the sight of her and wouldn’t let go.

The color had returned to her cheeks and she no longer shivered, both of which eased his worry that she’d take a chill and sicken.

“You’re warming,” he murmured, drawing her gaze.

A small smile breached her mouth, lifting his spirits. She looked up and met his gaze. “I am. I feel much better.”

“Good.” He watched her, seeing the shadows in her eyes. “You appear lost in thought.”

Her lips pursed as she nodded. “I need to get home. I have a meeting on Thursday that could make or break my career.”

“And what of your family? Will they be missing you?”

A pain sliced through her eyes, sharp and so swift he almost missed it. Yet when she spoke, those unusual eyes held nothing but calm. “I don’t have a family. Just me and my career. I like it that way.”

“Do ye now? I find it hard to believe no man has asked for your hand.”

The thoughtful look she gave him turned slowly amused. “Do you really?” But the amusement quickly fled, the pensiveness back in her eyes. “You told me last night I wore shields and I denied it. But I think maybe you’re right.” Her expression turned almost shy. “You’re the first man who’s gotten beneath them. I don’t warm up to many men.”

He found it telling that she believed she’d let him in, yet she barely let him touch her. Then again, she’d given herself over to his safekeeping in sleep. A gift of immense trust, that.

He doubted she truly warmed up to
any
man, truth be told, himself included. But the fact that she believed herself warming to him pleased him immensely.

“I’m glad you’ve let me in, then,” he said sincerely. “Ye can be a bonny companion when ye wish to be, Julia Brodie.”

She flashed him a quick grin that held a sharp edge of knowing amusement. “Thanks. So can you.”

He grinned back at her, unaccountably pleased, though why he should be, he wasn’t sure. The lasses always found the Wizard to be a bonny companion.

But he’d not always held fast to his Wizard persona with this one. She’d seen Talon. In some small ways, perhaps even gotten to know the true man. Even so, she was warming to him.

Pleasure flowed through him, rich and sweet. Bittersweet, for he had a feeling he’d miss her when she was gone, more than he wished.

The innkeeper joined them and began gathering their empty dishes. He was a thick-waisted, bearded man with a ruddy face and friendly eyes.

“I seek a merchant by the name of Jamie McBean,” Talon told him. “Do ye ken where I might find him?”

“McBean, eh? There’s a Jamie McBean in Monymusk, little more than a day’s ride from here.”

Talon’s pulse quickened. “And is there a castle near Monymusk?”

“Aye. Picktillum.”

“Pink-harled?” Talon described the castle he’d seen in the flames. “Four towers, one of them round?”

The innkeeper nodded. “’ Tis Picktillum, true enough. The home of the Viscount Kinross.” He gave Talon brief directions and moved away.

Julia’s eyes glimmered with excitement. “Sounds like we know where we’re going now.”

He smiled at her enthusiasm. “Aye.” Soon he’d have the fire chalice in his hands. Soon he’d have no more need of Julia’s help. Soon she’d be gone.

The knowledge settled dully in his stomach.

They paid for the meal and set out again, each on his or her own mount. The sun had come out while they were dining and now shone brightly over a damp and glistening landscape. Travel was slow on the muddy track but, despite knowing he had less than a fortnight to complete his task, he felt no urgency. Indeed, he found himself loath to reach Picktillum.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was enjoying himself. Enjoying the journey. Most of all, he was enjoying his bonny and temporary companion.

He felt the vibration of hoofbeats even before the four riders came into view behind him. They raced along the road, sending mud flying as they bore down on them.

“Off the road, lass,” he said to Julia, reluctant to take his gaze off the men behind. “Ride up the hill.”

His hand flexed, his instincts telling him to be ready to pull his sword, although logic argued the men would most likely ride right on by.

“Who are they?” Julia asked, urging her mount up the gently sloping hill.

“I dinna ken. I canna ...
bollocks.”
He was about to say he couldn’t tell, but that wasn’t true. He recognized one of them. Nay, he recognized them all.

“Aren’t two of them from the tavern?” Julia asked. “And the other two ...”

“Are the pair we passed on the road earlier.”
Jesu.
That was no coincidence, he was certain.

She looked at him with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I fear I do.” He’d suspected the men they’d passed on the road had glimpsed the gold of the lamp. They’d likely circled around and followed them for a time, then recruited two more brigands to help them carry out their robbery.

With only a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the golden lamp from the wrappings of his cloak and held it aloft where the sun would glint on the treasure. Then he tossed it onto the ground.