Immortal Trust (16 page)

Julian gave her a dumbfounded look. “Wake up, Chloe! He didn’t give a shit about anything in those boxes that you showed him. But the minute you started talking about dating the cloth, he shut you down. If you think he has any intention of sharing what he
might
find out with you, your head’s in the clouds. I doubt he has any intention of having the thing dated.” He leaned back on the stool and rested an elbow on the counter behind him. “He’ll probably leave with the damn thing tonight. We won’t see him again. Mark my words that box is what they came here for. He knew you’d find it. They got what they wanted, used your efforts to do so, and they, along with the box, will disappear for another couple hundred years.”

A sickening feeling crept through her veins. What if Julian was right? She hardly knew Lucan. And he
had
known what she would find. He’d predicted she’d uncover it the very day they did. She’d played right into his hands. Fallen victim to his pretty words and damn near handed the relic over to him without a single protest.

“He does know things,” she murmured.

Julian’s boots hit the floor like lead. “What has he told you?”

She should tell him. Her brother had worked at her side, struggled financially along with her, and devoted himself to their shared careers. If anyone deserved to know what Lucan had disclosed, it was Julian.

At the same time, she couldn’t forget Lucan’s promise to do everything he could to bring the relic to the public. The pleading nature behind his eyes that begged for her trust. He’d seemed so sincere. Why would he go to such lengths just to lie?

And he’d told her far more than he should have if he wanted her to stay in the dark. He’d taken her into confidence. Not Julian. Not anyone else on the team.
Her.

She shook her head, unable to bring herself to tell Julian about the Veronica. “Nothing about the relic. But I showed him the picture of that glyph in Egypt.”

Julian leaned forward with interest. His eyes shone dark, the same creepy way they had when he’d barged into her room. “What did he say?”

The nagging feeling something wasn’t right forced her off her stool. Julian only ever laughed about the glyph. Not once in the last eight years had he entertained a conversation about what had happened to her in that ancient tomb. She moved to the other side of the table, putting it between her brother and herself. “Nothing exactly. But I could tell by his body language he’s seen it. He asked a bunch of questions.”

“And you told him?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.” No, they hadn’t gotten much further than that. They’d gone back to the Veronica, then she’d kissed him silly.

“I wouldn’t advise doing so.”

All the years of suffering his ridicule came out with one sharp question. “Why? Because he might laugh at me?” She let out a soft, derisive snort. “That wouldn’t make him much different than you, would it?”

“I’m nothing like he is.”

That was true. No two men could be more different.

*   *   *

From the SUV’s passenger seat, Lucan stared at the trailer’s front door, waiting for Chloe to exit. His hand kept nervous time on his knee as the minutes drew out. He had embarrassed her, and he was not fool enough to believe there would not be hell to pay for his heavy-handed tactic. But naught would have made him allow Julian to touch the cloth. He was too eager. Too … interested. And the way his eyes gleamed when he looked upon the fragile fabric made great horns of alarm blare in Lucan’s head.

“Tell her,” Caradoc urged from behind the driver’s wheel. “Tell her what she is and be done with it. You two may resolve your differences in the Temple.”

Lucan shook his head. “Nay,” he murmured.

“You take risks you should not, brother. She is safe within the Temple walls. Naught can harm her whilst you work to obtain her oath.”

“
She
is the risk,” he confessed with a heavy sigh. “Have you not noticed the constant presence of Azazel’s minions? They follow
her.
”

More quietly, Caradoc responded, “Then you were wise to take the reliquary from her.”

“I took
it
from Julian. She has held possession of the Veronica for a full day. If the demons sought to take it from her, they would have already done so. ’Tis the why, in the fact they have not, that concerns me.”

His brother twisted in the seat, his frown deep and dark. “You think Azazel has seduced her?”

Lucan expelled a harsh breath. “I do not know. But she has been given Saladin’s glyph of unholy passage. I thought never to see it again, and she produced it from her notes. With the demons so close, and their refusal to take the Veil, I cannot help but wonder.”

“’Tis only one way to discover the truth, brother. Ask.” He gestured at Lucan’s chest. “You have shown her your medallion. I saw the recognition pass across her face. You have entrusted her with secrets—tell her all of them. Allow her to explain.”

’Twas a concept easy for Caradoc, who did not suffer the taint of suspicion. He could not fathom the difficulties Lucan struggled to overcome. Whatever Chloe might explain, his mind would turn in circles until he could not logic between truth, possibility, and lie. He sighed again. “’Tis too easy for her to create a plausible fiction. I lack the judgment, Caradoc.”

Understanding filled his brother’s quiet stare. He acknowledged the inescapable truth with a slow nod. “You must build trust. Begin on common ground. Give her absolute faith on one small thing, and you shall earn her secrets.”

Something in common—Lucan nearly laughed aloud. The only interest they shared was the Veronica. And yet he could no more turn it over to her for safekeeping than he could bring himself to give her the seraphs’ torc.

His thoughts skidded to a halt as another idea surfaced. The Veronica
could
work to his advantage. He didn’t need to give it to her. Just a small piece would work. He kicked open his door and jumped out into the snow. “I will see you at the château.” As an afterthought, he tossed his room key onto the leather seat. “Put the reliquary in my safe. The code is the same as the Temple gates. Come back in an hour.”

He slammed the door and bounded up the trailer’s steps. As he reached for the handle, the door swung open. Julian stormed out, nearly colliding into Lucan’s chest. He shouldered past Lucan with an indistinguishable mutter and stalked toward the students gathered at the excavation site.

Lucan let himself in, absorbing the heavy tension in the long room. Brother and sister had argued. About what? The relic? He looked to Chloe and stiffened beneath her icy glare.

“Get out,” she instructed calmly. “This is
my
trailer, and I don’t want you in it.”

“Nay, I shall not.” He reached behind him and locked the door. Slowly, deliberately, he took off his coat and laid it over the back of a nearby chair. “I did not come back to fight with you.”

“No? Just what exactly did you expect? I’d welcome you with joy? For God’s sake, Lucan, you made me look like an idiot!”

Crossing the room, he reached for her hands. When she pulled them away, he grabbed again, and succeeded in capturing her wrists. “I am sorry for the way I handled something necessary. But I came back inside to offer a compromise.”

She threw her shoulders to the side, jerking hard for her freedom. He held fast, determined her anger would not divide them further. They had made progress this morning. He would not have that so easily reversed. “Chloe,” he said more softly. “Cease. Listen to what I have to say.”

“I don’t
care
what you have to say. That’s my discovery, and I’m not going to have you waltz off with it. I’ve dug through frozen ground, dodged snowstorms, and nearly froze my fingers off for two months! I deserve to know the truth behind that cloth.”

“Aye, you do.”

Her slow blink said she had not expected him to agree. She ceased struggling and squinted with mistrust. “Then why are you trying to stop me from finding it out?”

“I am not.” Lucan used steady pressure on her wrists to guide her to the stool and urge her to sit. When she plopped onto the vinyl seat, he released her wrists in favor of her shoulders. “I will tell you whatever you wish to know about the Veronica. You need but ask. Meanwhile, you will have your sample to send to your laboratory. We will collect it together.”

The tenseness of her shoulders eased beneath his palms. She furrowed her brows, confusion clouding her amber eyes. “Then what was that all about? Why turn into a jerk when you could have said all that earlier?”

He chuckled softly as he slid his hands along the length of her upper arms. “I am not always rational. You will have to forgive me for my mortal flaws.” He leaned in closer, drawn to the heavenly call of her mouth. His lips touched hers briefly, before he remembered himself and stood up straight. “I will keep the reliquary whilst we await the findings from both our scientists. You may help me lock it away. You may set the code on the safe. That way, we are both protected. You may not get into my room without my key; I may not access the reliquary without your code.” Lowering his voice to a whisper he asked, “If I agree to trust you, will you trust me?”

Her frown deepened. “That doesn’t make sense, Lucan. All I have to do is tell the château you’re on my team and my records are inside your room. I have the documentation to prove it.”

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “All I must do is call the concierge and inform him I have forgotten the code to the safe. ’Tis in my room. ’Tis about trust, Chloe. I want yours.”

As he had hoped, his smile lit hers. Faint, but present nonetheless, it brightened her eyes. Spread hesitantly onto her soft lips. She agreed with an equally hesitant nod.

Stepping back, he slid his hands down her arms to once again capture her hands. With a gentle tug, he pulled her to her feet. “Will you show me what you’ve found in the site? I should like to see the remains of le Goix’s castle.”

The tenseness returned to her spine as she glanced toward the windows and the fading sun beyond. “I don’t know. It’s getting dark. Everybody’s packing up. We should probably wait until tomorrow.”

To his consternation, her hesitancy spread to him. He eyed her warily. “Is there a reason you do not wish to show me the excavation?” A reason such as the demons that lurked in the woods? Mayhap she feared he would notice them and make the rightful assumption they had something to do with her.

“No, no,” she hurried to assure. “I’ll show you anything you want to see in that hole or around what’s left of the walls. Just not … tonight. We’ll run out of daylight before you can see it all.”

Fear vibrated in her voice, registered behind the widening of her eyes. Lucan drew back at the poignant truth Chloe
feared
something. Something she refused to explain. Could it be the presence of Azazel? Or was it something greater—such as a promise to turn over a relic and fear of what might happen now that she had failed?

He looked out the window she stared at, observing the darkening sky. In an hour, night would descend upon them. If the demons chose to attack, they would do so then. But for the next sixty minutes, he had time to push her before he needed to worry about his lack of a holy sword. By nightfall, he intended to know exactly what had her so scared.

“Oh, come now, milady,” he chided with a grin. “You are beginning to sound like you are afraid of the dark.” He gave her fingers a squeeze. “As you said to your team—are you not a bit too old for such?”

A deep blush infused her cheeks as she looked to her feet. The tremor that rolled down her spine vibrated against his palm, and for a heartbeat, Lucan felt guilt over forcing her to confront what she so clearly wished to avoid. Yet he would only discover what caused this fear by pushing the boundaries. The possibility he might learn the truth about the dark presence that surrounded her was too great to yield to sympathy.

“Okay,” Chloe whispered.

CHAPTER 15

As the last car left the gravel drive, Chloe wrapped her arms around herself tight and looked straight ahead at the graying ruins. Beyond the jumble of toppled stone and clods of earth that a long-ago mortar shell scattered, the thick deciduous forest loomed dark and foreboding. Within it, the presence waited.

She kept her shoulders straight, determined not to give Lucan any more reason to suspect why she didn’t want to be outside near the tall trees. His teasing remark about her fear of the dark had already cut deep. More evidence that, like every other man she knew, he’d find her demons laughable. And after last night, she couldn’t begin to find humor in the subject.

Not that she ever had, but the attack last night put things on a whole new level. Never mind the fact she’d lost all opportunity to find a spiritualist this afternoon. She’d have to risk her room, and its broken window, again tonight. Hopefully, the ward would last. Hopefully, it would work a second time.

They drew nearer to the base of what had once been a feudal castle, and Lucan squatted before the square-cut stone blocks. He passed a reverent hand over the pitted surface and bowed his head as if he offered a prayer for all who had once lived within the walls. Knowing his expertise revolved around the Middle Ages and the practices therein, she allowed him the freedom to explore as he desired. What she could offer about what they’d found, he surely could put to shame.

She glanced to the trees with a shudder. It overwhelmed her out here. Gave her the feeling that if she stepped too close, they’d snatch her in. A shadow moved within, creeping through the high branches, and she glanced away before she could put a face with the creatures that gathered at her window. She didn’t want to know what they looked like. They’d plague her in her dreams then. And those few bits of escape when she slept, no matter how short they were, were too precious to sacrifice.

“Chloe,” Lucan called softly. Hand extended for hers, he beckoned her to join him before the ruins.

She slid her palm against his, more grateful for the contact than she’d ever let on. The warmth of his hand traveled up her arm to quiet the frantic drum of her heart.