Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four

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Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 54

by RAE STAPLETON


  Just one more sip of whisky and she’d be brave enough to go courting trouble. After yesterday’s incident in the bath she was more terrified than ever to become Sorely’s wife. He would use her ruthlessly—she could see it in his eyes and feel it in his cruel grip. She’d pushed him to the brink of his temper the other day, knowing he couldn’t touch her but he would surely pay her back.

  Conal was here somewhere on the castle grounds, and if he wasn’t going to come to her then she would just go find him.

  “Sive,” Conal called from the hallway behind her. She turned and he appeared as if out of nowhere, or perhaps it just seemed as such with the way her head was swimming. His hands moved to close over her upper arms, pulling her into his embrace, and hugging her so tightly against his body that the contact hurt. Her arms went around his waist. For just a moment she clutched him as fiercely as he was holding her. Her eyes closed.

  “Ach, I have missed ye, Conal. I tried to get to ye but Sorely intercepted my message and took it to Da.”

  Her lips were warmed by the touch of his. As she pressed herself up against him, he forced her away, holding her arms tightly so that she couldn’t come closer to him.

  “Sive, ye’re drunk. What are ye doin’, lass? The weddin’...” He released his grip on her arms and stepped away.

  “Ye dinna want to kiss me, then?”

  She looked up at him.

  He gave in and kissed her fiercely, as if he were starving for the taste of her mouth. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Sive kissed him back. Her heart was pounding so loud that she could barely hear his harsh breathing. A quickening started in the pit of her stomach. Her knees grew weak. She clung to him as the only solid thing in a whirling universe.

  “Ahh, Sive.” He lifted his mouth from hers to trail kisses across her cheek to her ear. Sive took a deep, shuddering breath, burying her face in his neck. The warmth and male smell of him enticed her. Parting her lips, she touched her tongue to his throat.

  His arms tightened around her and he pulled her up on her toes as his mouth traced a blazing path down the side of her neck. When he reached her shoulder, he paused for a long moment while his mouth seemed to burn through her skin. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her mouth opening against the side of his throat.

  “I wish things were different, Sive. I want nothing more than to be standing at that altar with ye today but it’s not up to me. I almost didn’a even come. I can’t trust myself to stay away from ye and I can’t stand the idea of those bastards hurtin’ ye because of me. I only came to find ye because there were whispers that ye were gone in the head and I feared ye might harm yerself.”

  “I love you, Conal,” she breathed in his ear and felt the hand on her waist clench for the merest instant. Then his hold loosened again and he pulled back.

  “My lovely Sive,” he said unsteadily.

  ”Kiss me again,” she whispered. “I will marry no one but ye.”

  “No, lass, ye haven’t the choice. I’ve tried but yer Da will no listen to reason.”

  “He’ll listen if we’re together. We’ll tell him the truth of it—that ye’ve already claimed me. He’ll have no choice. Sorely will never marry me if everyone knows we’ve lain together.”

  “Aye, I suspect he will, just to spite me. Besides that, ye’d be shamed. I think it’s best if I leave now. Sorely’ll never let ye go and I canna bear to watch ye walk down the aisle to him.”

  “Take me with ye then, Conal, please.”

  “I’m sorry, lass, but there is nowhere we could go that Uilliam and Sorely wouldn’a find us and kill me. And I don’t care for myself a lick but I canna bear to think of ye facin’ their wrath alone with me gone.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Blood Moon, Southern India, Present Day

  “ You must be Sophia?” a woman said, approaching from the side. She had a fine spray of lines at the corner of her eyes and her hair was black, worn long, with no trace of silver. “I’m Saraswati. I understand you were looking for me.”

  For a second, I paused—this woman couldn’t be Padmini’s great aunt. I looked closely at her face. She was supposed to be the oldest woman in the town but this woman was in her fifties at the most. She had the same bright green eyes and delicate lips as Padmini but still, I was expecting an elderly woman. She was smiling at me expectantly, and I realized she had asked me a question.

  “Thank you for finding me,” I said, taking her hand and steering her away from the group. “I’m sorry I missed you the other day. I was mugged while I was waiting for you and I haven’t quite recovered. Your niece said you worked here at the Airavatesvara Temple.”

  “I do.”

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you. We’ve been all over your country in search of a place that my great-grandmother told me about—The Temple of Indra —and apparently we’ve finally found it. We were just on our way to the statue now.”

  The woman scowled and looked over my shoulder.

  I glanced back at the group. Mani seemed to be the object in her crosshairs. He swallowed and turned away nervously and she returned her gaze to me.

  “Go on,” she said.

  “I was under the assumption that the temple was near the River Ganges in Kanpur but no one seemed to know of the temple. Your niece was the first person who offered help. She admitted she’d never heard of the Temple of Indra either but said there was another temple associated with the God, Indra, or rather his white elephant, whose curse was lifted here. I thought maybe the whole curse-lifting thing was a good sign.”

  I swallowed. The woman was staring blankly at me.

  “What we’re specifically looking for is the shrine to Indra. I have something that was once stolen from it and it needs to go back.”

  “The Sapphire,” Saraswati said.

  “Yes, you know it?”

  “No, my dear. I know the story but that is all it is: a story to keep poor villagers and tourists from pillaging India’s sacred temples.”

  I looked up at the rest of the group and turned my body away.

  “Well, I’m afraid it is true. You see, I own the sapphire and I am cursed because of it.”

  Saraswati’s eyes roamed behind me and then she scanned me up and down.

  “I see your aura, child, and you are hardly cursed.”

  “Well that’s true. The curse broke with the death of my stalker but still I need to put the sapphire back before it hurts someone else. Only the sanctity of Indra will protect the people from the jewel’s magic.”

  “I do not believe that this sanctuary you speak of exists.”

  “I was told it does. As a matter of fact, that’s where we’re going. Mani, our tour guide, says there is a secret subchamber within the Temple. He’s taking us there now.”

  “I’m afraid you’re being duped, my dear.”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t want to accept this. We’d come so far and yet I trusted this woman. “Come with us, then and see for yourself.”

  “I don’t need to see such lies for myself, and perhaps you shouldn’t trust just anyone. Come to my house tomorrow afternoon and I will tell you what I know. Do not leave the jewels unattended and come alone.”

  “You don’t trust this guide?” I questioned.

  Saraswati looked past my shoulder and shook her head.

  I followed her gaze. The man was soaked in sweat and his left eye twitched. She was right. My gut had been telling me not to trust him.

  “Will you take the jewels then, and I’ll get them back from you when I visit?”

  She agreed rather loudly and made a show of accepting the box, but as she pulled me in for a hug she tucked the box back into my bag. “Go now and be safe.”

  She walked away still pretending to hold something and I wondered why she wouldn’t really accept them.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Northern Ireland, November 1551

  S ive burst into tears as she watched Conal walk awa
y. She hated Da and the witch for doing this and she hated Sorely for cooperating. No one would ever make her feel the way Conal did. With him gone, she didn’t think herself capable of living. She turned in the other direction and headed below. She could row a boat out from the mermaids’ cave. It wouldn’t be long before she was smashed against the rocks. It would be a better fate than being locked into a loveless marriage.

  Stopping long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes, Sive looked up and realized she had wandered into a part of the castle she’d never seen before. There was a large wooden door open in front of her where another stone staircase led downwards. Maybe she could hide until the wedding was over.

  “Sive? Is that ye?”

  Sive wiped at her eyes again just to make sure there was no evidence of her emotion. The Witch of Dunlace Castle was walking up the stairs toward her.

  “I’m fine. I’m just clearing my head before the ceremony.”

  Saundra chuckled. “I see. I’m not sure ye’ll find this area of the castle ideal for a stroll. ‘Tis the torture chamber.”

  “Sounds like it’s where I belong,” Sive mumbled as she pushed past her.

  “Suit yerself,” the witch replied. “Oh, Sive, wait...”

  “What now? Can’t ye just leave me in peace?”

  “I’ve a gift for ye. Please accept it as a token of my sincerest apology. I never meant to make ye unhappy. My visions don’t always bring me pleasure and if there had been any other way to give ye what ye wanted then I would have. “

  Sive pursed her lips. This woman was a conniving liar but something about her words rang true.

  “I was planning to give this to ye after the ceremony but perhaps ye’ll have more use for it now.”

  “What’s in it?” Sive snapped as she took the pouch. Her head was aching; she’d had enough of this scheming witch. Sincere or not, it was her fault she was being forced to marry Conal’s cousin instead of him.

  “‘Tis a blessed jewel for yer protection—it will bring ye everything that ye deserve in life.”

  Saundra turned and then continued up the stairs. Sive waited until she disappeared to peek inside the bag but Saundra had closed the large wooden door when she exited and the stairwell grew dark. Unsure what to do, Sive continued down the stairs. She was more afraid of facing her groom than the blackness. Whatever was inside the pouch was growing hot to the touch. She let out a scream and almost dropped it when it started vibrating. That was when she lost her footing and stumbled down the remaining stairs and into the wall on the opposite side of the landing. The wall gave way as she hit it and she landed on a cold stone floor with a thud.

  The fall didn’t hurt, but the pain in her heart that kept her from pushing herself up off the ground. She lay there crying until her eyes ran dry and her nose was sore, all the while wishing she could just disappear. She would rather be dead than live her life trapped like an animal, forced to mate whenever called upon.

  She had no idea how long she lay there, but when she had cried all the tears she had to cry, she decided it was time to get up and face the miserable life before her.

  Standing, she brushed the dirt off the side of her face and turned her head in the direction of the sunlight streaming in from the small window in the far corner. As she waited for her eyes to adjust, she scanned the room and felt herself getting light-headed. This made no sense. Walls did not give way and yet this one had. She was in some sort of secret chamber. Confused and frightened, she wondered if she had hit her head harder than she’d thought, as she tried to make sense of what was in the chamber.

  Hundreds of dusty old books arranged on shelves, flanking a large oval desk in the center of the room. Why had the witch been down here? Was this her room? She felt the sapphire in the black pouch vibrate. She removed it from its cloth and held it in her hand. It warmed and made her arm tingle. She could almost hear the walls humming, and despite something pulling at the edge of her brain, telling her to drop the jewel.

  Just as she was about to let go, an unbearable pain shot through her head. She screamed out in agony. The entire world felt as if it were shaking, but when she looked around, nothing seemed to be moving but her. She pushed on the false wall and crawled back into the stairwell in time to hear her servant, Bridget, call her name.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Blood Moon, Southern India, Present Day

  “ Are ye sure this ladder’s sturdy?” Sam called up to us, as he continued to climb down first. Moments later, lamplight bloomed from below, casting[RS5] his shadow up the wall of the shaft. The guide Mani helped me down and then stumbled on a rung of the ladder and had to catch himself with a quick grab before he fell on me.

  After three more steps, Cullen went last. Leslie remained up top. As my feet touched rock, I stepped from the ladder into the cramped cavern of the first level. The light stung my eyes with its brightness while the dusty, dry air filled my nostrils.

  For a moment, the ruins groaned and I eyeballed the latticework of wooden support beams, bolstering the ancient ceilings.

  “Keep going,” Mani said, guiding us toward the wooden ladder that descended to the second level of tunnels and rooms. However, that was not our final destination. After climbing down another ladder, we reached the deepest level. Silence hung like a wool blanket across the ruins. We had to be twenty feet below. I felt like the ground was caving in on me. Underground passages were not great for someone who suffered from claustrophobia and yet I always seemed to find myself in them. We proceeded in silence through the last of the tunnels to the deepest room. I dreaded and yet anticipated what was about to be revealed. The chamber was no larger than the average-sized kitchen and what stood in the center of the wall drew my eyes: a crude statue of Indra.

  I forced myself to breathe.

  Slouching against a wooden support to the right, Mani held a cigarette, unlit, between his lips. He broke the silence. “Well, is this the place, or what?”

  “You’re not gonna light that, are you?” I asked, appalled at the thought.

  He quickly pulled it from his lips and straightened up. “This is the statue you were looking for, right?”

  “It’s so small,” I uttered.

  “A piece of the original statue, but the most important piece. It’s been hidden for a long time. No one knew where it was placed after the Temple of Indra crumbled.”

  “How did you know?”

  “My cousin was part of the excavation crew.”

  Cullen glanced around. “Where’s Sam?” he asked.

  I frowned. “He was right here a moment ago.”

  “He wandered back toward the ladder, breathing heavily,” Mani said. “Something about small spaces.”

  “Maybe we should go check on him,” Cullen mumbled.

  “He probably went back up top. I’ll go check,” Mani replied.

  As soon as Mani disappeared, I reached into my bag and felt for the elephant box. I was having mixed feelings about what to do. On one hand I no longer trusted Mani after Saraswati’s comments but at the same time I just wanted to be free of these cursed jewels.

  What to do?

  I moved my hand around the inside of the bag. My wallet, sunglasses and then I felt something sharp. The box must have opened inside and I felt the dagger.

  “What is it, Aeval?”

  I leaned one hand against Indra and carefully repositioned the other hand inside the bag to grab the dagger by the handle. As soon as I felt the jewels in the handle vibrate, I fell to my knees. I’d made a mistake.

  THIRTY

  Northern Ireland, November 1551

  Vision slowly made its way back to me. As I waited for the blurry images to clear, I reached to grip the stone wall that flanked me and struggled to pull myself to my feet. A voice from behind me penetrated my foggy brain.

  On unsteady feet I spun toward the doorway, struggling to make out the form standing in front of me—a short, plump woman.

  I closed my eyes briefly and opened them once more, hopi
ng it would help me clear my sight. It did nothing to increase my vision, but I could now make out the woman’s words.

  “Oh God! Oh dear, sweet Mother O’ God! The witch was right. Ye’re drunk and we’re just hours away from yer weddin’! Ye picked a grand time to run away again, didn’a ye!”

  I struggled to process my surroundings as I felt the woman’s hands grip my shoulders and shake them.

  “My lady! Are ye all right? Did ye hit yer head when ye fell?”

  “Fine,” I gasped and reached to grab my head once more, realizing I could finally see the woman clearly. The pain that had nearly ripped me in half only moments ago had slowly eased into a migraine.

  I felt the shaking stop and looked into the blue eyes that were studying me fiercely.

  My head was throbbing too incessantly to concentrate. I scanned the room, while silently willing the woman to hush. Memories of what I’d been doing only moments before came rushing back, and panic burst forth as I shot out of the woman’s reach.

  “Where’s Cullen? What happened?” My voice and fingers were shaking.

  “Oh, ye poor thing. Ye look frightened to death.”

  The woman moved toward me once more and pulled me toward a stool in the corner of the room.

  She was right. I was scared. My voice was different. Attempting to stifle my panic, I followed her urging and collapsed onto the smooth, wooden seat.

  “Are ye all right now, lass? Conal’s upstairs with the rest of the guests, or so I suspect, but I think ye should be more concerned with yer weddin’ dress. Ye’ve gone and smudged it and yer hair has come undone. “

  I simply nodded as numbness replaced the sense of panic, and turned to watch the woman as she spoke.

  She chuckled slightly. Then, seeing my confusion, she stopped laughing and pulled her face into a look of seriousness once again.

 

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