Breath of Yesterday (The Curse Series) (3 page)

“I’m sure that was exactly her intention. Can you imagine how much guilt and blame that would put on Sam? You were to die because she survived.…You think Sam can handle it?”

Payton shook his head. He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Sam would blame herself, and it would surely destroy her life.

“We can never tell her. She must never know!” he implored.

“And how do you imagine we do that? Do you want to stick it out and wait for Nathaira’s curse to come true?” Sean inquired. “I told you all of this because there must be a way to save you!”

“Save me?”

What could possibly save him? That would be like winning the lottery twice in a row.

“I don’t know, but up until recently, we didn’t even think it possible to break Vanora’s curse, remember? I mean, we have to try.”

“But how?” Payton asked, the anxiety visibly sapping his energy. He felt wobbly and weak. And he was afraid. He didn’t want to die or for Nathaira to win from beyond the grave. He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. Whatever Sean would suggest they do, Payton would agree to it. He would put up another fight this time around. Only this time he didn’t know where his strength would come from.

“I thought maybe we could find something in Nathaira’s papers. After all, she was always preoccupied with this sort of stuff,” Sean suggested.

“Hmm, or maybe this Roy Leary guy might help me,” Payton said, thinking out loud.

“Roy who?”

“You don’t know him. I don’t know all that much about him, either, but he seemed to know a hell of a lot about Vanora and us. It can’t hurt to ask him.”

“Very well. Either way, we had better get back to Scotland as quickly as possible. I’ll go pack our bags. You wrap things up here and then follow me to the motel so we can leave.”

“Wrap things up? What exactly do you want me to tell Sam without her blaming herself?”

“Tell her nothing. If she finds out that you’re not doing well, she won’t let you return to Scotland by yourself. But if she comes with us, she’ll either see you die or interfere with our investigations. Unless we want her to find out what role she actually plays in this.…”

“But I can’t just leave her!”

“Do whatever you think is right. But for someone her age, I think it’s easier to get over someone who leaves you than to blame yourself forever for the death of someone you love.” With that, Sean turned around and left the way he had come, out the back door.

For a good while afterward, Payton sat motionless. Then, one last time, he went upstairs to the bedroom where he had made love to his beloved Sam for the first time.

Washing the dishes really did have a soothing effect on me. Brothers sometimes had their secrets, and I tried to convince myself that this was completely normal. After all, I would never share any of Kim’s personal stuff with the boys, and so Payton was surely entitled to a bit of privacy, too.

I was so sympathetic and tried to spread a cheerful mood for the next hour or so, but Payton still seemed dejected and crestfallen. Somehow he was miles away from me.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t hurt yourself when you fell down the stairs, did you?” I probed.

“Hmm? Did you say something?”

“Payton, what are you thinking about right now?”

He pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around my hips. And with his velvety voice—which had enthralled me ever since our first meeting at the Glenfinnan Monument—he whispered into my ear. “
Mo luaidh,
all I think about is you—every minute of every day.”

“Aw, you’re cute. Maybe I’ll keep you,” I jested before quickly getting up and glancing at my watch. My parents would be back soon. They weren’t against my relationship with Payton, but they weren’t exactly overjoyed, either. After all, I had gotten mixed up in a shoot-out and had almost fallen to my death from the fourth floor of a motel. Up to a point, I could even understand their skepticism, although none of it was Payton’s fault, of course.

Anyway, they would probably arrive any minute now. I wanted to avoid a confrontation, so I pulled him with me to the front door.

“This is very hard for me, you wicked, wicked Scotsman, but I’m afraid you have to leave.”

I couldn’t entirely read his expression. He was as closed off now as he was when Vanora’s immortality curse ruled his life. Yet I detected an unspeakable sadness as he pulled me close and looked deep into my eyes.

“You’re right,” he said. “It’s time for me to leave.”

Why did this give me the shivers? Why did I suddenly feel so funny? I withdrew from his arms and gave him a long, questioning look. But his eyes were as deep and bottomless as the depths of a Scottish loch.

I got up on tiptoes to kiss him good-bye, but he pushed me away as if wanting to memorize my face.

“Sam, I…I have to go.
Tha gràdh agam ort,
” he whispered against my lips, and every single word was like a caress.

“I love you, too,” I told him.

He walked along the garden path but stopped after only a few yards. He came back, his face contorted with pain.

“Sam, I can’t leave without kissing you one last time.”

It sounded almost like an apology, but I wouldn’t have complained if he’d wanted to kiss me good-bye a thousand more times. Who would have thought that being kissed could feel so amazing?

His kiss was soft and tender. I felt his deep, endless love, which left me floating on cloud nine long after he was gone.

C
HAPTER
4

Scotland, November 1740

V
anora had done her deed. The curse was spoken. One final, blazing lightning flash streaked across the dark night sky. A moment later the winds died down, and the clouds disappeared as quickly as they had gathered. Motionless, the old woman stood atop the mountain peak and looked down at the castle.

She knew about her fate. She knew about her approaching death—a death her own daughter would cause—and yet she felt no fear. After all these years, she would finally see her daughter, Nathaira—the child that Grant Stuart had so cruelly taken away from her.

The men on horseback bore down on her, getting ever closer. A sense of tranquility descended upon Vanora. She had saved the baby: Muireall Cameron was alive. And so tonight the Stuarts’ coldhearted plan to kill all of the Camerons had failed.

Vanora had little time left in this world, but for one last moment she turned away from her relentlessly approaching fate and scanned the dark hills behind her for the young woman who would be the beginning and the end of this story, the young woman whose destiny was to forever change the history of the two enemy clans, the young woman who was without guilt, yet guilty nevertheless.

Vanora now sensed that very girl standing behind her. A horrified scream escaped her throat but was carried away by the wind, unheard. She did not belong here. But nobody escapes his destiny.

That thought comforted Vanora, and with peace in her heart she welcomed her daughter’s death-bringing dagger.

She barely felt the pain in her chest as she reached for the dark-haired girl’s blood-soaked hands. With a mother’s pride, she recognized the similarities she shared with her beautiful murderess: the bright, ethereal skin of the Fair witches; the high cheekbones; and the natural force they carried within themselves. Vanora smiled at the thought of how Grant must fear his own daughter, just as he had feared her. For even though he had forced himself on her for so many nights, she had always felt that he was afraid of her powers.

“Sguir, mo nighean
.
Mo gràdh ort
.
”

Her words were barely more than a whisper. She kissed her daughter’s hands in forgiveness. Then her spirit left her body and Vanora was gone.

C
HAPTER
5

Castle Burragh, Scotland; Present-Day October

I
had surely lost my mind. It was only now, watching the taxi that had brought me here drive away, that the thought occurred to me.

During my long transatlantic flight I’d started having doubts about this crazy endeavor. But now that I was standing here on the side of some road in rural Scotland, with nothing more than a suitcase in my hand—just like I had a year ago—I had to allow for the possibility that I was suffering from a medical condition that seriously impaired my cognitive abilities. There was no other reasonable explanation for my coming here.

I tried to focus on all the right reasons for this trip as I approached the gray stronghold, Castle Burragh. Chills ran down my spine at the sight of the dark, forbidding stone walls towering above me. I could almost see the heavily armed guards behind tiny arrow loops that would have defended the castle hundreds of years ago. Even though there was not a single cloud in the bright blue sky, I felt a cold wind blow across the flat, treeless mountaintop.

I pulled the zipper up higher on my Windbreaker. Was I really in the right place?

Unfortunately, it was a little late for doubts, as the taxi had long since returned to civilization. I didn’t even dare to check whether I had cell phone coverage out here. Suddenly, I felt pretty dumb. To stop myself from getting even more worked up, I knocked on the arched door beside the massive portcullis as loudly as I thought I could get away with and still be considered polite.

My sweaty palms betrayed my fear of not being welcome. Ever more nervously, I wiped them on my jeans. My fear seemed entirely warranted since nobody was opening the door. I knocked again—and this time as hard as I could—even though my knuckles really hurt.

Then I leaned back and glanced up at the tall castle wall. Nothing. Not a peep.

“Dammit!”

And again I tried to fight the feeling of being
utterly
alone
in this godforsaken place and at the mercy of all kinds of danger—maybe even a psychopathic killer.

“Hello? Anyone there?” I called out, hoping to hit upon better companionship than my own voice. But no reply came, just as I’d feared.

I had always tended to take charge of my own destiny instead of waiting for something to happen, so I dropped my suitcase and walked a few yards back down the graveled road. Here, a narrow, overgrown path led around the periphery of the castle. All right, I would try my luck at the back of the castle.

Deep down I cursed myself for being so naive. When Payton had told me that he and Sean lived in a castle, I’d immediately thought of one of those lovingly restored castles I’d visited during my big sightseeing tour. This one couldn’t be farther from that image. Nobody in his right mind would pay a single buck to visit this derelict ruin. It was in complete disrepair and far from any human settlement.

I tromped through a thicket of Scotch thistles and felt glad that sunset was still a long way off.

I kept calling Payton’s name but never got a reply. And when I finally twisted my ankle walking along that overgrown path, I was sure that I had nothing in common with tough girl Lara Croft after all. I was more of an awkward Indiana Jones type, anyway. I limped over to a protrusion on the wall, sat down, and massaged my throbbing ankle. There really was no one around.

What was I to do now? Wait until somebody showed up? Or somehow try to get back to the city? A quick glance at my cell phone confirmed that there was no network coverage, but I thought I’d spotted a red telephone box a few miles back. I wondered whether the phone box would actually work, or whether it was just a nostalgic reminder of the good old days.

I slouched and cautiously stretched out my sore foot. All of this was my fault, of course. Why couldn’t I just have stayed home? He was the one who left me! Broke up with me, to be precise—just like that, without saying a single word.
Except for that stupid breakup letter on my pillow.
I could almost feel that overwhelming pain again.

It had taken several minutes before I was able to gather my thoughts. I sat there, numb, staring at the ink on the page. How could he do this to me? Only a few hours ago we had been so close, and now I was sitting here crying my eyes out. Was this supposed to be it? Had he maybe been using me? Or had he not enjoyed our night together? After calming down, I needed answers. I kept trying his cell phone, but he didn’t pick up. My pain flipped to anger. I had risked so much for him, trusted him, opened up to him. Surely it wasn’t too much to ask for him to give me a reason we couldn’t see each other anymore—and why I should forget about him.

Forget about him? Did he have any idea what he was asking me to do? I could never forget Payton McLean, and I didn’t want to! Finally, I’d even tried calling Sean, but the sobering result was exactly the same: no answer. My fury about this outrageous, unacceptable behavior managed to ease my heartbreak—well, almost. But when I returned to the motel to confront Payton later that evening, all I found in his room was a cleaning lady buzzing about. And she told me in a disimpassioned voice that all the guests had already checked out. That was when I could no longer hold back my tears. I cried and cried and cried, using my sleeves instead of a tissue.

I saw myself running. The town around me seemed to have changed forever. The glaring billboards and blinding headlights of passing cars made my head spin. Sirens and all the other traffic noise followed me as I left Route 113 and turned onto the much quieter Kings Highway. It was impossible for me to go home now, back to my room where I had been so happy with Payton such a short time ago. So I ran all the way to Silverlake and sat down in the tall reeds.

Summer was over, so the cold, damp earth soaked through my jeans to my butt. Still, I pulled off my shoes and socks, rolled up my pant legs, and stuck my feet into the water.

The piercing cold helped me think clearly again, and I recalled the day when Payton and I had gone for our very first walk at Glenfinnan Monument and waded barefoot through the ice-cold river.

That day during my student-exchange trip to Scotland had been indescribably beautiful. It marked the beginning of something special.

Which was why I couldn’t believe that Payton would throw it all away with just one letter. There had to be more to it. After all, he had been acting very strange all day, and after Sean left, he had been deep in thought.

Eventually, I pulled my feet out of the water, and I actually felt a little better. I didn’t want to believe that Payton no longer loved me. There had to be a logical explanation—and I would find out what it was.

With a heavy heart but with renewed optimism, I returned home and dialed the number of perhaps the only person left to help: my cousin Ashley.

I took a deep breath, wove my long, dark hair into a loose braid, and then carefully tried to move my ankle. Luckily it almost didn’t hurt anymore. I walked back, treading more carefully this time. In a way, Ashley had brought me here. So if this was a truly dumb idea, then it was at least partially her fault. Because my heartache and anger alone would certainly not have made me book that flight to Scotland.

But when Ashley told me that Sean had canceled his visit to her because “Payton needed him desperately” and because “he had to return to Scotland for now,” I felt that my suspicions had been confirmed: Our so-called breakup was just pretense.

I was very concerned about him, because he had been in such a bad way the last time I saw him. These worries had prompted me—impulsive little me who never wasted a thought on possible consequences—to come here. In the end I’d told myself that I would find the two brothers here, that all would be revealed, and that Payton and I would get back together.

But now all I could do was sneak around an obviously abandoned castle, and my two handsome Scotsmen were nowhere to be seen.

I was just turning a corner when I heard engine noise. Knowing my luck, I was sure this would be the psychopathic killers I had fantasized about earlier. But I chose to ignore that thought and run to the gate.

My relief in seeing that it was in fact Payton approaching in his white SUV quickly turned to unease. What if he really
didn’t
love me anymore? What if he really didn’t want to see me, despite all my hopes for a happy ending? Maybe he was already in the process of getting over me, like he had advised me to do.

Fighting a sense of turmoil, I stopped to face the brothers.

The driver’s door opened, and I found it impossible to turn away. How did this Scottish guy get under my skin so much? It had been only a few days since I’d seen him, but still my heart pounded like mad at the sight of him. And I could have sworn that, in addition to his clear surprise at seeing me, I also noticed a glimmer of joy rush over his face.

But not much joy was left as he marched up to me. On the contrary, he looked really angry. Before he could intimidate me with his powerful masculine presence, I squeezed out a feeble “Hi, Payton.”

Sean had also gotten out of the car and was leaning against the passenger-side door.

“
Daingead,
Sam! What are you doing here?” Payton demanded, pulling me farther away from the car. He shot his brother a quick glance and backed away from me.

I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him, but he seemed so distant that I wished I had never boarded that flight.

“What am I doing here? What do you think? You just ran away from me without saying a word!” I shouted. This was not how I had imagined our reunion.

“I wrote you a letter,” Payton said flatly, but he couldn’t even look me straight in the eye.

“Oh, right, the letter! You mean those three meaningless lines you wrote?” I snapped, trying my best to stab him to death with my eyes. His glacial brush-off had hurt me more deeply than I cared to admit, so I tried to coat my pain in as much anger as I could.

“Sam, listen, it really would be best for you to go home. That thing that happened between us…it’s over, and I’m over it.”

No, that was not what I wanted to hear. Not at all. I shook my head to try to unhear it. Hot tears streaked down my cheeks, and my voice shook. I wanted to feel him, feel his strong arms around me. I was willing to renounce everything—everything but his love.