Amethyst Destiny by Pamela Montgomerie Read Free Book Online

future, Julia? From when have ye come?” He held her gaze as he gripped her knees, uncertain whether he supported her or held on for himself.
    Her bonny mouth opened, then closed as she visibly swallowed, then opened again. “2010.”
    Talon’s eyes widened, the hair rising at his nape as he rose and stepped back. He’d thought forty or fifty years, mayhap. Not ... Jesu. “Three hundred twenty-two years.”
    He glanced at his ring with new respect. The rock had power greater than even he had suspected. It was little wonder the blast of magic had been felt throughout the castle.
    Excitement began to pulse beneath his ribs.
    Mismatched eyes implored him. “Send me back.”
    “I cannot.”
    Twin fires ignited deep in those eyes, anger fanned by desperation. “You have to send me back.” Once more, her voice began to rise. “You said you were the one who brought me here!”
    “Wheesht!”
    She flinched, her face paling even more, a thing he’d have not thought possible, as she lifted her hands as if to ward off a blow.
    Or him.
    He glanced at the door, but made no move toward her. “Ye must settle, Julia, or you’ll bring the whole castle down upon us.” He fought to keep his voice low and calm, sensing she was near hysterics. “I’ll not hurt you again.”
    She watched him with eyes too big for her face, breathing too fast. “You have to send me back.”
    “You’ve a job to do, aye? And once you do it, you’ll return to your place and time.”
    A flare of temper tightened her expression. “If you can send me home then, you can send me home now.”
    “Nay, I cannot. I did not bring you here apurpose. I canna control it.”
    “Then how did I get here?” The color was slowly returning to her cheeks. “And don’t give me that crap about God’s will. God didn’t do this and we both know it.”
    With a mix of admiration and frustration Talon accepted that this lass was too canny to believe anything less than the truth. But would she believe the truth? Even if he were willing to share it?
    Nay, he’d not share his secrets. He’d never told anyone about his ring and was not about to do so now.
    Claiming magic of any kind was a dangerous game. Though the witch hunts had died down, there were still those all too willing to believe. And to destroy those they feared.
    But the lass deserved an explanation. Indeed, by the look on her face, she demanded one.
    And what would he possibly tell her, if not the truth? A partial truth, perhaps.
    “’Twas magic that brought you to me, lass. I asked for help in finding the item I seek, and you appeared. You must ken something from the future that will help me.”
    She stared at him with a look of growing frustration. “I don’t know anything.” Her voice quavered.
    He rose and poured a dram of whiskey from the carafe the ring had gifted him with late last night and handed it to her. “Drink it slow, aye?”
    She took the glass, the liquid sloshing against the side, her hands visibly shaking. Slowly, she raised it to her mouth and took a sip, her tongue darting out to lick the moisture from a pair of lush, feminine lips.
    With a sweep of lashes, she caught him in the agitated chaos of her gaze. “How could I possibly help you? I’m not even from Scotland. I’m a New Yorker. An investment analyst. I don’t know anything about this time, or this place.” Lightning tore through her eyes, a keen desperation. “Tell me what I have to do to get home.”
    Talon sat on the chair and leaned forward, his arms on his knees. “Help me find that which I seek, Julia Brodie.”
    Impatience tightened her pale features. “Which is?”
    Talon felt his lips twitch, admiration sparking inside him at the grit with which she faced this most untenable situation.
    He shrugged. “I dinna ken.” His pulse lifted in anticipation. “Have you heard of the Fire Chalice of Veskin?”
    “No.”
    Ah, well. He had hoped . . . “’Tis said to be made of gold with fine etchings around the