Luke's Gold

by JoMarie DeGioia

  “Brianna, wait.”

  “Luke, leave me be.”

  A muttered curse came from behind her as she continued on her way.

  “Brianna!” he called.

  She didn’t turn. She couldn’t face him any longer. There in his eyes she’d seen the certainty that he would take the gold and leave her and Violet. Despite his honor and his bloody word!

  * * *

  Luke watched her go. The Pixie was smart, and attuned to him. His senses still tingled from her reaction to his feeble arguments. She knew he needed the gold, though he’d promised her he wouldn’t bring a halt to Violet’s recovery. And now there was Daniel O’Shey, the dark devil. Daniel wanted his share, a portion of the gold not already gone to the doctors for Violet’s care. Would Luke be able to help his uncle with so scant a treasure that would be left?

  He couldn’t speak to Brianna. Not now. His heart aching, he made his way back to his flat to find a way to best Daniel. He suspected a solution to his problem with Brianna wouldn’t be so simple.

  * * *

  The pub was noisy, the hour growing late even for a Friday evening’s amusement.

  Luke sat at the long crowded bar, nursing his tankard of thick ale. Daniel perched beside him, drinking deeply of his brew.

  “I ain’t been here before,” Daniel said. “Seen ya’ come in here with that mortal, though.”

  Jim. Thankfully that man hadn’t pressed Luke this afternoon. He’d asked Luke to join him and Lori, and to bring Bree along to make it a foursome. Luke had declined the invitation, but his good-natured friend had suspected nothing. Luke didn’t want to expose anyone to Daniel, so he brought the imp to a different bar than the one Jim and Lori planned to visit tonight.

  “Aye,” Luke said. “Tasty brew, isn’t it?”

  “Aye.” Daniel slurped and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Brings home to me mind, it does.”

  Luke waved to the skinny waiter flitting about the pub. The pretty young man stopped at their table and gave Luke a look he was used to getting from the females of

  Indianapolis.

  “What can I get you, Brawny?” the young man asked.

  Luke blinked at the carnal invitation in the boy’s eyes. His cursed charm worked on mortal males now?

  “I…” Luke swallowed. “Another ale for me and my friend, pray.”

  The waiter pursed his lips. “Ooh, love that accent!” He placed his hand on one slim hip and sighed. “All right, handsome. Be right back!”

  The boy danced off and Luke dismissed him from his mind. Daniel eyed the

  waiter with confusion on his face, finally giving his head a shake.

  “Fey, that one,” Daniel said. “He be a fairy, ya’ think?”

  A mortal on Daniel’s other side laughed out loud and slapped him on the back.

  “Good one!”

  Luke waited for him to say more, but the man paid his bill and made his way toward the tables. The waiter returned with the ales and, after another flirting glance at Luke, left them alone.

  “Ya’ got me gold yet, MacDonald?” Daniel asked.

  Luke reined in the urge to grab Daniel’s fat neck and pound his face into the bar.

  He clenched his hands around the tankard instead and shook his head.

  “I told you I need time, O’Shey.” Luke turned to face him. “And here I thought you’d want to share a nice evenin’.”

  The dose of charm worked and Daniel nodded. “Aye, been lonely. Ain’t had the pretties all over me like you and that mortal.”

  He glanced around the bar and Luke followed his line of vision. More than one woman eyed Luke, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. When he looked back at Daniel, he saw the envy there.

  “This place isn’t like home,” Luke said. “The lasses here be different.”

  An ugly smirk curved Daniel’s lips. “I be wantin’ to find that out.”

  Luke waved to the skinny waiter again as Daniel drained his ale. He gestured for only one refill, at which the boy gave an exaggerated wink and did his bidding. ‘Twas going to be a long night.

  Chapter 18

  Brianna tucked the comforter around Violet’s slight body, taking care not to wake her. It was after midnight, and yet she couldn’t find her own sleep. The encounter in the alleyway preyed on her mind. Luke needed the gold, and so did she. He hadn’t asked for it back, but she was no fool. It was a mess, and she couldn’t see how even Luke’s cunning could find a way out of this. Not for all of them.

  She brushed an errant lock from her sister’s forehead and rose from the bed. The bloody key in her pocket gave a flutter, but she chose to ignore its meaning. She was bone-tired, and a faint headache thrummed behind her eyes.

  Lori had questioned her after she’d spoken to Luke, but thankfully the woman hadn’t pressed her for any answers. And when Jim arrived as they prepared to close the place, he too asked after Luke. Luke and she were joined in the eyes of these mortals, then. Why not? They were joined in Brianna’s heart.

  She readied for bed at last. A cold splash of water on her face eased her head a bit, and she donned her nightgown and reached for her key. As she touched it, it began to tremble. She heard it then, a soft scratching at her front door. She slipped the key’s ribbon around her wrist and left the bedroom.

  Taking cautious steps, she approached the door. She braced herself to use all the magic at her disposal to keep the danger at bay.

  “Brianna?”

  Soft as a whisper, Luke’s voice reached through the door and wound itself around her heart. She opened the door and he rushed in.

  “I had to see you, Brianna,” he said. “To make you understand.”

  She closed the door and crossed her arms over her chest. Anger filled her. “You want the gold.”

  “If only you would let me explain,” he said.

  Brianna paced the length of the living room, back and forth and back again. Her hair floated about her and the lights flickered.

  “You want the gold, Luke. Don’t deny it!”

  He reached for her but she eluded him. As difficult as this exchange would be, she had to keep her distance. If he touched her…

  He smiled his crooked grin and a warmth coursed through her. “I need only a portion of it, lass.”

  “Luke, I….”

  “Come, Brianna,” he said. “I just need enough to—”

  “Oh!” Brianna gave a shake. “Don’t try to charm me, MacDonald. You want me to free the treasure from my spell and then you’ll take it all!”

  She fought to ignore the wounded look in his eyes.

  He splayed one hand on his chest. “I would never do that to Violet. I thought you trusted my word.”

  Brianna laughed without humor. “Your word. Yes, your bloody word! Yet here you stand, attempting to charm me out of my sister’s only means of getting well?”

  He growled as he raked his fingers through his hair. “I need the gold, Brianna.

  Just a portion, pray. If he doesn’t get it—”

  “However would your uncle mend with just a portion, Luke?” she asked. “I don’t believe you for a moment.”

  He grabbed her then and her body felt on fire. Anger and passion and indecision made her dizzy.

  “Not my uncle, damn it,” he said. “Listen to me!”

  She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. “No. You come here, so bloody arrogant and pressing

  me to release the gold to you. You charm me, I daresay. You’ll not have me again.”

  He dropped her as if he felt her fire. “You don’t understand. Ah God, you won’t understand!”

  He stormed from the house, and after a moment Brianna ran to the open door.

  “Luke, wait!” she called.

  But he stalked away from her. And out of her life. She closed the door and fell back against it, tears choking her throat.

  Brianna came awake with a start some time later. Something moved in the center of the house, something stealthy and shuffling. She glanced
at her key, but the crystal was dim and quiet. Not Luke then, though he had entered her house without invitation that one night. That night of passion and of truths. She shook her head. Or so she had believed.

  She eased out of her bed, donned her terry robe and tiptoed down the hall. The room was dark except for a shaft of light peeping through the curtains from the streetlamp in front of the house. She felt a chill and turned toward the bookcases. A figure stood there. Crouched, really. Small and round, dark and quiet. Recognition slammed into her in the next moment. It was the little man from the coffee shop!

  “You there!” she cried.

  He whirled on her, his black eyes catching the meager light from the window.

  Those eyes chilled her, void of warmth and compassion. She now knew him for what he was: a Leprechaun.

  “Hello, Pixie!”

  He laughed. The sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

  “Get out of my house,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Nay! I want me share of the MacDonald gold!”

  Then she knew. Luke needed the gold to appease this imp. He had kept his word.

  Her own hurtful words came back to her. How she wished she hadn’t sent him away. No matter. She would face this threat alone if she had to. For Violet’s sake.

  “It’s not here,” she said.

  He laughed again and stepped closer. “Lyin’ Pixie, are ya’? Nay! MacDonald told me ya’ have it.”

  She crossed her arms, seeking to show as strong a presence as she could muster.

  “You can’t have it.”

  He shook with anger, vile curses spilling from his mouth. “Give me the gold!”

  He lunged for her and she raised one arm, sending him flying into the

  bookshelves. Shaking his head, he stood once more.

  “Yer magic be strong, Pixie,” he grumbled. “But I’ll get me share.”

  He made for her again. Flashes of light filled the living room as she threw all of her power into ridding her house of the devil. He dodged her attacks, moving with a speed that belied his portly appearance.

  “You won’t win, imp!” Brianna cried.

  Tiny fires smoldered on the carpet. Windows shattered but still he evaded her.

  He laughed and came closer still. “Now I be havin’ a taste of what the MacDonald sees in ya’.”

  She knew he tried to use his cunning, but his intelligence was far beneath Luke’s.

  Why wouldn’t he fall?

  Brianna murmured the words for the strongest lightning spell she knew, raising her hands over her head to deliver the blow she prayed would stop him at last.

  “Brianna?” Violet whispered.

  Brianna turned her head as Violet entered the room. “Violet, don’t—!”

  A flash of pain at the back of her head caused the room to spin. She tried to keep her balance, and as she fell the sound of Violet’s scream was the last thing she heard.

  * * *

  Luke walked toward Brianna’s little house, the sky still dark. It was too early for such a call, but he needed to see her. After leaving her last night, he’d gone to his apartment. When he’d left Daniel at the pub, deep in his cups, he’d hoped to gain Brianna’s cooperation. Now, after a fitful night’s sleep, he knew that would be impossible. She thought him so mercenary as to take Violet’s chance at recovery? He set aside his anger at her rash judgment. Well, he’d make her listen to him now.

  As he got closer to the house, something struck him as odd. Several windows were broken, and the acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils. His heart pounding, he ran up the steps and rushed through the open front door.

  The light from the streetlamp was enough to see the damage. The living room was in shambles, the carpet singed in spots. Most of the furniture was broken and there were books all over the floor.

  “Brianna?” he called.

  No answer. He made his way through the wreckage toward the hallway. “Violet?”

  Still no answer. What the devil happened here? Perhaps Daniel hadn’t been as drunk at Luke presumed. And if he came here…

  Something caught his gaze before his mind fully formed the horrible possibilities: a stocking foot peeping from behind the couch.

  “Brianna!” He found her unconscious, her face pale. She sprawled on the singed carpet, limp and boneless. No! He took her in his arms and gently stroked her cheek.

  “Wake, lass,” he said. “Please wake.”

  He felt her arms and legs and found no injuries. One touch to the back of her head

  showed him the reason for her condition: a large lump raised on her scalp.

  He held her close, willing her to wake. At last his amber began to warm against the base of his throat and she stirred.

  “Violet?” she whispered.

  That one word told him more than he wished to know. God, don’t let it be so.

  “Brianna, lass.” He kissed her cheek. “It’s me. Luke.”

  She opened her eyes, clouded but beautiful. “L-luke?” She struggled to sit up.

  “Where’s Violet?”

  He shifted to give her some room. “I don’t know, lass.” He grasped her chin and made her face him. “Brianna, tell me what happened.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but he knew the pain in her head wasn’t the cause.

  “He came here, Luke,” she said. “A Leprechaun. He must have… Oh God, he

  must have taken her!”

  “We’ll find her, Brianna.”

  She sniffled, gazing up at him.

  “Do you give me your word?” she asked.

  He smiled gently. “You trust my word, lass?”

  She gave a nod. “I should never have lost faith in you, Luke.”

  * * *

  Brianna felt the effect of her words in her heart. Luke’s eyes shone with love, though she’d refused to see it for anything more than passion until now. He kissed her gently and eased her to her feet. Something struck her then.

  “The gold!” she cried. “Oh, please don’t tell me he took the gold!”

  She ran to her bedroom, Luke’s heavier tread close behind her as she pulled open the closet door. Kneeling before the closet, she closed her eyes spoke the spell that

  revealed the gold. The wall shimmered and her face warmed. When Luke took in a sharp breath, she knew her words had their effect.

  “The MacDonald gold,” he murmured.

  She faced him and saw the awe in his eyes. “I used a lot of it for Violet, Luke,”

  she said. “I’m sorry.”

  He took her hand in his and dropped a kiss on it. “A noble cause, lass. Thank you for keeping it safe from O’Shey.”

  She nodded.

  He turned her hand in his, looking closely at her wrist. “Did the bastard tie you? I didn’t see any ropes when I found you.”

  On her wrist was a faint red mark, most likely caused when the devil tore her key from her. Oh, no.

  “He took the key, Luke.”

  “Your key?”

  “My grandmother’s crystal key!”

  “Your grandmother’s…? What are its powers?”

  She couldn’t tell him it vibrated whenever his fine self came close to her. Surely he would find that strange and believe her daft.

  “I used it to come here from Cornwall,” she said. “She said it also… She said it had hidden powers as well.”

  “O’Shey won’t know how to use it, I wager,” Luke said. “But he’ll crawl back to whatever comes closest to his home.”

  Brianna nodded and settled on the couch. “His home? Oh, Ulster?”

  Luke nodded gravely. “Aye, Ulster. Damp and cold on the warmest summer day.”

  “But where in Indianapolis could he find such a place?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m a good tracker but we’ll need your magic, lass.”

  “This is all my fault.” Brianna buried her face in her hands. “If I hadn’t sent you away tonight—”

  “Nay, Brianna!
I thought the devil deep in his cups. Bloody bastard’s built like a bull.” He sat beside her and took her into his arms. “Pray, don’t cry. We’ll find her.”

  Chapter 19

  Brianna concealed the gold with a wink and they returned to the living room. She faced Luke as they stood among the debris. The anger on his face echoed her own. And he wanted to find Violet as much as she did. That touched her heart more than the love she thought she saw in his eyes.

  He pulled the collar of his shirt aside to show her the amber pendant and Brianna stepped closer. The pendant was beautiful up close, and as she gazed at the stone it began to glow. Luke’s eyes flickered with the same warmth.

  “Touch it, lass,” he said.

  Brianna reached out and fingered the amber. It pulsed in response to her touch and Luke blinked.

  She stilled. “Does it hurt?”

  Luke gave a quick shake of his head and smiled crookedly. “Nay.”

  She closed her hand around the pendant and it seared her palm. It didn’t hurt, just a tingle that coursed up her arm. Luke closed his eyes and gave a start, obviously feeling the electricity that flowed between her and the stone. They were connected, she, Luke and the stone, and it felt so right.

  She focused her mind and murmured the spell that would help her find Violet.

  The amber grew hotter. Suddenly she saw the place, dark and dirty and cold. Big looming shapes, low buildings or trucks, she couldn’t tell. Long metal tracks, stretching and twisting over the ground. She could smell the acrid scent of fuel, hear a faint whistle through the mist or fog. She’d seen Violet though, huddled against a filthy wall in one of the structures. Her sister was frightened and cold, and her soft cries echoed in Brianna’s brain. Fog clouded Brianna’s “vision,” though she suspected it was the place that was blurred and not her mind. She felt her sister’s fear, her worry, to her core.