Amethyst Destiny (12 page)

“What are you doing?” Julia exclaimed.

“Ride, Julia.
Quickly.
They’ll likely not bother with us once they have what they’ve come for, but I’ll take no chance.” The lass was too bonny by far. And had only one protector.

With a worried nod, Julia did as he commanded, urging her mount into a full gallop. He followed close, keeping an eye out behind.

But his precaution was for naught. The four altered their course to follow them, completely ignoring the lamp.

Bloody hell.
They wanted the lass.
Jesu, they’d kill her
.

“Faster, Julia!” His heart lodged in his throat as he prayed her newfound riding skills were equal to the task.

“I don’t know how to do faster!”

It wouldn’t be enough. The four were gaining on them with alarming swiftness.

He pulled his sword, keeping himself between her and their pursuers even as he knew he was going to have no choice but to take them on.

“Keep riding, Julia. I’ve no need to tell you what they’ll do to you if they catch you, aye?”

Fear clouded her features, but was quickly swamped by fierce determination as she bent low over the horse and held fast.

The sound of beating hooves grew louder and louder until Talon knew he had no choice but to turn and take them on before one of them lopped off his head from behind.

He swung his mount around and charged the short distance, taking two at once. The clang of metal on metal rang over the damp ground. But, as he’d feared, the other two continued after Julia.

Fear for her lent fire to his determination. With a hard, well-timed swipe, he slew one of the miscreants. But the man cried out and Talon’s already battle-shy horse reared and stumbled. He had no choice but to leap from its back before the animal went down.

As the slain man’s mount took off, Talon faced his second attacker, avoiding the man’s steel with leap after leap as he fought to take him. He finally managed to take a swipe at the man’s leg, opening a bloody gash. But to his dismay, the brigand swung his horse around, preparing to flee, leaving Talon with no mount. And no way to follow but on foot. Depending on how far they took Julia to do their evil, he might not find her again until it was too late.

A desperate fire burned in his belly at the thought of that fierce spirit quenched. Of that small, perfect body broken and bleeding.
He would not allow this wickedness.

As the miscreant urged his horse forward, Talon pulled his knife from his belt and flung it hard, burying the blade hilt-deep into the man’s back.

With a death cry, the man fell from the horse. Talon leaped forward and grabbed the reins before he lost this mount, too, then retrieved his bloody knife and swung onto the back of the beast.

Heart thudding in his chest, he urged the horse into a hard gallop in the direction Julia had gone, praying he was not too late to save her.

The land rolled and bucked, hills rising in every direction. Empty. His hands tightened on the reins.

Already he’d lost her

Fear for her lodged beneath his breastbone. A need to protect her rose inside him, stronger than any emotion he’d ever felt. She hadn’t the strength to fight them off, yet he knew the fire in her would not be easily doused. She would fight them, tooth and nail.

And they’d kill her.

His teeth ground to dust in his mouth. Fury raged in his blood. They’d taste his blade this day. They’d taste it.

And they’d die.

TEN

Julia white-knuckled the reins, her head down, her heart pounding. Behind her, men chased her on horses of their own, men who would rape her if they caught her. Maybe even kill her.

If only her skills were real! If only she knew the tricks to making a horse go faster, but all she could do was trust instincts that weren’t hers. All she could do was trust Talon’s magic ring and pray it was enough even though her mind kept screaming
I don’t know how to do this!

Her stomach cramped with fear. Beads of sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades.

“Move, horse,
move
,” she begged.

The muddy ground flew by beneath her, the wind tearing the hair back from her face, making her eyes sting. Why had the ride yesterday felt so exhilarating? She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t even fathom that she’d enjoyed it.

In the distance behind her, she heard the clank of metal, the clash of swords, and knew at least one of those swords was Talon’s. She hazarded a glance.

Directly behind her, much too close, rode the two men they’d passed on the road that morning, their eyes now bright with the excitement of the chase.

Turning forward again, she was afraid she was going to be sick.

She’d seen no sign of Talon, but she’d ridden over a rise and down again, obscuring her view. Two of the men had fallen behind, no doubt to take him on.
Two against one.

His ring would save him. She had to believe that.
He can’t die.

Because if he did die, then what? He wouldn’t come after her? He wouldn’t save her?

That sick feeling rolled through her stomach.

Why would he come after her, even if he could? Thanks to the lamp, he now knew where the chalice was. He didn’t need her anymore.

Ice wove through her heart.

He wouldn’t come. Of course he wouldn’t. People in movies and fairy tales might risk their lives for others, but that kind of thing didn’t happen in real life. If her own experience was anything to go by, they rarely even
compromised
their lives for others. And when they did, they resented it bitterly.

Why would he come after her? She was nobody to him.

When it came down to it, she was nobody to anyone.

Her hands gripped the reins tighter, the terror and desperation burrowing deep into her soul as she accepted that she was as she’d always been. On her own. No knight in shining armor was going to ride out of the mist to save her.

This damsel in distress was going to have to save herself.

She pressed the horse faster, but when she glanced over her shoulder, terror stabbed her through the ribs. The men were nearly upon her, one drawing up on either side.

Shit, shit, shit.

Little by little, they drew even with her, then pressed in, crowding her, trapping her between them. They were rough-looking men, unshaven and almost certainly unwashed, dressed in clothes much like Talon wore, except theirs were ratty and badly stained.

The thought of these men, these
bastards,
touching her . . .
forcing
her . . .

The terror welled up, constricting her throat until she could barely breathe. Lights danced at the edges of her vision.

One of the creeps edged closer and grabbed for her reins.

She jerked them out of his reach, glaring at him. “Leave me alone, you asshole!”

“Och, she’s got the Brodie eyes, right enough,” the asshole shouted to his companion. This time he didn’t bother with the reins, but reached for her instead, trying to snag her around the waist.

Julia fisted her hand and threw it back, connecting with his mouth.

“
Witch
,” he snarled, and hit her back, his knuckles connecting with her temple in a blinding flash of pain. As she fell back, head spinning, he hooked his arm around her waist and yanked her out of her seat. For one terrible instant, she thought she was going down, doomed to be trampled beneath the hooves of the horses. Instead, she found herself flung across the man’s lap, face down, so hard it knocked the wind out of her, sending pain arcing through her ribs.

The ground moved past dizzily beneath her and she closed her eyes against the sickening movement. Flecks of dirt and grass pelted her cheeks. As a tight band of hopelessness squeezed her chest, panic began to bubble up, tasting of horror.

They were going to rape her. They were going to throw her on the ground, push up her skirts, and rape her and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

White-hot desperation burned across her mind. A sob caught in her throat. If only she were taller and stronger. If only she’d studied martial arts or something. Maybe she’d have been able to fight them off.

Who was she kidding? She’d be incredibly lucky to manage to get away from
one
, let alone two of them, even if she were an Amazon. And heaven knew, she wasn’t. There was no hope she could get away from them before they hurt her. None.

She swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat, her body beginning to shake from within.

If she couldn’t escape their abuse, then she’d just have to get away after. If she could just survive, sooner or later they’d make a mistake and she’d take advantage of it. And then she’d run.

Run where? By then, Talon would be long gone.

The thought of him made the tears start to roll. Had he fought off the two men, or was he even now lying in a pool of his own blood? She didn’t want him to die. He might not be her knight in shining armor, but there was goodness buried inside him even if sometimes she felt like he tried to hide it.

Please don’t let him die.

Her stomach spasmed. Her body felt like ice. Deep inside her skull, her head pounded. Hysteria began to pluck at the edges of her consciousness, but she fought it back, knowing in some dark part of her mind that if she gave in to the fear, she’d be lost.

Instead she fought for strength, for anger. This was her life, dammit, as bizarre as it might be at the moment. And no one was taking it away from her without a fight.

But the hysteria hovered, on the attack, stripping slices from her soul.

A hand landed hard in the middle of her back, startling a low cry from her throat. High above her, the bastard who’d captured her yelled something in a language she didn’t understand. His tone was sharp. Angry-sounding.

He pressed down on her back as he twisted, as if looking behind him. His hand flexed with tension and he kicked the horse, pushing the animal faster.

Her heart gave a hard leap of hope. Someone was coming. Talon?

No. Why would it be Talon? Her captor was probably just trying to outrun one of his companions so he didn’t have to share her.

The hysteria crawled closer.

I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home.

But the magic stone around her neck ignored her. Talon believed he was the one who’d brought her here, that she’d been meant to do something to help him. But deep inside, she feared she’d never find her way home again.

The way this day was going, it wouldn’t matter. She’d be dead before nightfall.

Her trembling intensified.

The clang of metal close by broke through her dark musings, startling her with a jerk.
Swords.
Talon? Or were the bad guys turning on one another, now? She couldn’t see, dammit. She was hanging down the wrong side of the horse.

The battle sounds lasted for what seemed like forever, then suddenly went silent. Her captor urged the horse faster. And she knew.

Hope leaped high, filling her body with a heady lightness. A renewed strength. Tears stung her eyes. The hysteria receded to the edges of her mind.

Her captor swung the horse around to face the attack and she saw him.
Talon.
Not the Talon she’d come to know, the con man with the charmer’s smile, but a warrior with savage eyes, his lips pulled back over his teeth, his sword running red with blood.

Her civilized self, the Julia Brodie who wore pumps to work and never ran a red light, recoiled at the violence in the man. But the damsel in distress wept with relief. And the cavewoman inside her, the deeply buried primitive with wild hair carrying a spear in one hand—a woman whose only goal was survival—watched in awe and hailed the barbaric strength and power of the man.

As horse and rider, and bloody sword, bore down on her, the hysteria once more flared around the edges of her mind. As the swords clashed inches above her head, she shrieked and cringed, squeezing her eyes closed and pulling her arms over her head. The sound ripped at her courage, reverberating through every cell in her body, bursting through her eardrums.

Steel collided above her, so close she was pelted by the flying droplets of blood. The trembling inside her turned to great quakes as her back arched involuntarily, exposed and vulnerable. At any moment one of the swords might slice right through her spine.

Stealing a glimpse, she opened one eye just as Talon swung hard, his face a mask of fury. His blade sliced through her kidnapper’s cheek. Blood sprayed her, a drop landing on her eyelashes, and she recoiled with horror, swiping it away with a badly quaking hand.

The battle roared, Talon in a berserker’s rage, his hair swinging as he hacked against her captor’s blade.

Suddenly the man above her cried out and reared. He fell back, lifting her with his knees, catapulting her into the air. Something clipped her jaw, slamming her teeth together as she landed in the mud, half-tangled with her captor.

The man kicked her in the ribs as he scrambled to his feet.

Through a haze of pain she saw Talon swing off his horse and the battle resume on foot.

Head ringing, ribs on fire, Julia sucked in a painful breath and pushed herself up, stumbling to her feet, desperate to get away from the swords swinging too close. She backed away from the fight, dazed and hurting, the hysteria clawing deeper and deeper into her mind.

This isn’t real. This isn’t happening.

Talon swung, the tip of his sword slicing the other man’s face, temple to opposite jaw. Blood bloomed, bright red, washing down the bad guy’s cheek and jaw. When he reared back, Talon lunged forward, burying his blade deep in the man’s gut, then pulled it out again. With an expression of hard satisfaction, Talon watched her kidnapper fall face first into the mud.

Julia stood as still as a rock.

It was over.

He was dead.
Dead.
A moment ago, his hand had pressed into her back. Now he lay unmoving.
Lifeless
.

The hysteria she’d barely managed to keep at bay rushed at her again. Her forehead pounded, her skin turned cold and clammy. Her insides started spinning like the insides of a blender. If she didn’t get sick first, she was going to start screaming and screaming and screaming ...

Talon turned to her, breathing hard, his blood-coated sword still tight in his fist, his expression frozen in that terrifying mask of battle-rage.

He started toward her. Blood splattered his clothes and his face. Even his hair was streaked red.

Shaking violently, she backed away. “You killed him.” Her words sounded accusatory, filled with all the horror and disbelief roiling inside her. But she couldn’t control her tone. She couldn’t control
anything.
She was shattering inside, on the verge of a monumental breakdown.

No. She was stronger than this. She refused to break. Deep inside, she fought against the hysteria, finding and embracing the only emotion strong enough to battle it back.

Anger.

She clung to it, feeding it, letting it fill and strengthen her.

Talon stopped abruptly and stared. “What would ye have had me do?”

Her lips pressed together, trembling. He’d come after her. He still thought he needed her help to get that chalice. That damned, fricking chalice.

“The chalice is so important to you that you’d risk everything for it? You’d kill for it? Over and over, you’d
kill
for it?”

“I killed for you,” he said softly, stepping toward her.

She threw up her hands. “Stay back.” Her stomach cramped. She wasn’t being fair to him and she knew it, but this wasn’t about fairness. It was about survival. And if she gave in to the weakness and flew into his arms, she’d shatter.

“You’re hurt” The soft concern in his voice was nearly her undoing. He reached for her.

“Don’t touch me.”

Talon’s eyes turned flat. His mouth compressed and he turned on his heel and strode toward his horse as if he meant to leave her behind.

Would he? After he’d risked his life to get her back? No, he’d take her with him and use her as the ring meant for him to. Why else would he have come after her?

She stalked after him, her quaking legs barely functioning.

As he swung up on his own horse, she grabbed the reins of the horse she’d been a captive on and struggled to swing into the saddle. Her muscles had turned to rubber.

Talon set off without a backward glance and she followed. They rode in strained silence, Talon glancing back at her every now and again with an unreadable look on his face.