Cullen took a huge gulp of his beer. “This is way too much of a coincidence.”
“Do you know where he got it from?” I asked.
“Yes, he happened upon that amulet while he was working among the great lines of mineral cabinets. I believe it was an amethyst. I can’t remember the name, but it was the strangest thing he’d ever seen. There was script carved into it.”
“The Purple Delhi Sapphire.”
Cullen interrupted my thoughts. “Yes.”
“So he just took it. Was he allowed to do that?” I whispered.
“Well, no, not really. It came with a note that said it was trebly accursed and stained with the blood and dishonour of everyone who had ever owned it, and he wanted to get rid of it. My grandfather was a very superstitious man. He showed it to my grandmother, and she begged him to let her wear it for the picture. That was the only time he ever let my grandmother wear it. She fell and broke her leg that same day.”
My mind flashed with images I couldn’t quite comprehend. I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder, and warm tingles danced up my neck.
“So, concerned by the curse, he sealed it with protective charms in seven boxes and sold it.”
I stood staring.
“Sophia, whassup? What are you looking at?”
“Sorry. I must have zoned out,” I said, turning back to him. His hand slid to my neck, and he gently cupped the side of my face with his other hand.
“Cullen, you said that day when you found me that you dreamed of me?”
“I did,” he replied, gently running his thumb back and forth, mesmerizing me.
“What was the dream about?”
“Ah, I’ll be after forgettin’ the details now.” His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember.
“Come on,” I encouraged him.
“Well, I’ve actually had a couple of different dreams about ya. There’s one in this castle, and there’s another where I’m pullin’ ya from the sea.
I looked back at the stone around his grandmother’s neck. He dreamed of Sapphira. Were all three of us connected because of this purple sapphire? I stared at him, the conversation sinking in.
He went a little red and let go of me.
“Ah, well, that’s loopers. It’s pro’lly just Arthur Guinness talking,” he said, taking a swig of beer to hide his embarrassment.
Perhaps this was all meant to be. Maybe he was some distant relative of the Graf’s.
I looked down at the table and saw a cute gold tin with a blue lid. I picked it up to examine it. Sweet Kilarney.
“Are these candies?” I asked, thinking I could go for something sweet right about now.
“Candies… no. Well, maybe candy for men. That’s pipe tobacco.”
“You smoke a pipe?”
“No. Well, on occasion I guess I’ve been known to have a puff with one of the fellas.”
My attention was attracted by a play of light coming in through the half-opened window. It looked like someone was standing outside his house.
“I can’t stand smoke. It always reminds me of this nightmare I had as a kid.” I set the tin back down and wandered over to the window. The light hovered, shifting and turning as it filtered through from the foliage above. There was no one there. The draperies, gently buffeted by the breeze, took on a life of their own.
His phone beeped at his side, and he pulled it out of his pocket and stared at it.
“Bollix. I have to go into the office for an hour. Will you be all right here, or did you want me to take you over to Ma’s?”
“No, I’ll be fine. I’m actually kind of tired. Is there somewhere I could lie down?”
“The guest room is upstairs, second door on the left. Here, I can show you.”
“No, go ahead. I’m going to grab a glass of water first. I’ll see you later.”
He walked away but then turned back. “I was thinkin’ we’d head down to one of the local haunts when I get back for some drinks and dinner. Would ya be into that?”
“Sounds great.”
“Make yourself at home.”
I watched Cullen get in his Land Rover, and then I walked up the stairs. The painting was still haunting me. This was all too strange to be true.
It couldn’t be real.
But it was real. Wasn’t it?
I picked up the phone and dialed Leslie. She would have to believe me now. My call went straight to voice mail. Damn it! Maybe I’ll send her a quick text. As I was typing my phone rang. Wow. That was fast.
Silence. I almost hung up. Then I heard breathing.
“You can’t get away from me.”
“Nick?”
“I know where you are.”
“Nick? Is this you, you son of a bitch?”
“You know what I want.”
“I think you have the wrong number.”
“Sophia.” The voice was raspy, gravelly, a growl. Disguised.
A prankster? Can’t be—he said my name.
A whisper now, barely understandable. “I can see you. Give it up.”
“Who is this? What are you talking about?”
“I won’t stop until I have it.”
“Have what?”
“I’ll be watching.”
The phone went dead.
“Damn you,” I screamed to the empty house.
I walked to the window to see if Cullen’s vehicle was still there. No. I frowned suddenly, feeling a cold tension seize me. Why? Something… A sound.
Yes. I thought I’d heard a sound downstairs.
“Cu—”
I opened my mouth to call out and then closed it quickly. Some sixth sense warned me that it couldn’t be Cullen; the Land Rover was gone.
I held dead still, listening. Not a sound.
I waited. Looking down, I realized that my fingers were curled hard over the windowsill. I made a point of relaxing them.
Still nothing. I had imagined it.
Then I heard something again. At least I thought I did. A sound, coming, fading, gone. What had it been? A creaking?
And then I realized…
Someone was coming up the stairs.
I started to rush into the hall. Then I realized that if a burglar was in the house, I would run right into him. I stood frozen. No, I couldn’t go running into the hall.
He was coming closer. Coming straight for the guest bedroom. I spun around and tried to silently open the closet door. It creaked loudly.
I could feel his footsteps through the floor. I felt around in the closet. I needed a weapon. I couldn’t think.
My fingers grasped something long and cold with a thick end. A golf club. There was a whole set of them. I pulled one out.
The closet would be an obvious place to look for me. I ran to the bed. Too low to fit under. The footsteps were almost upon me. I jumped behind the curtain, gripping the club tightly in both hands, holding it upright against my body.
I waited, barely breathing. I heard nothing. Nothing at all. He must have gone.
Then suddenly, just when I was relaxing my stance, breathing deeply, easily, the curtain was pulled back.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I screamed in panic and swung the club with all my might.
I heard Gaelic swearing as the intruder brought his arms up to protect his face. I brought the club down in a chopping motion and tried to catapult myself past him.
“Oh, no, you don’t!”
He caught my hair. Shrieking, I tried to break free, but fingers wound around my arm. I tried to strike out again, but he had the club by the end. I struggled to keep it and free myself, and then I tripped. I felt the club wrenched from my hands as I hit the floor.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What are you doing?”
I looked up, stunned to immobility.<
br />
“Oh my God! Liam?” I said incredulously.
Cullen’s brother.
I’d seen him briefly in profile that day I was eavesdropping. I’d also seen pictures, but I’d never formally met him. I thought of the phone call. I know where you are.
“I thought I heard someone shout from up here.” He leaned a hand down to help me up, but I scrambled backward.
“H-how do you know me?”
“The island, Lass. Ya fell, and Cullen rescued ya. Jesus, I helped pull ya from the water. Ya really don’t remember me?”
“Sorry.”
“And then I sat in the hospital with Cullen all bloody night.”
“Right. I’m sorry. I don’t recall any of that, but I do appreciate it. I wasn’t expecting… that is… Cullen never said you were coming over.”
“No, I guess he wouldn’a. He didn’t know. I just popped by. I didn’t know ya were here. Last I heard you’d gone back home after we left France.”
“I did. I had to come here to do some research, and Cullen invited me for dinner.”
“Course he did. Well, I’m sorry if I gave ya a start. Ya got quite the swing on ya.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I was scared.”
“Like I said, I’m sorry I didn’t know, else I would have knocked or at the very least called out.”
“No, it’s all right. I overreacted.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Two hours later and three very strong drinks deep, I found myself sitting at a bar with Cullen and some of his friends, pub regulars from the looks of them. They were an entertaining bunch, full of stories and funny phrases.
My cell phone rang, and I recognized Leslie’s number.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
I walked outside. “Leslie, you got my text?”
“Yeah. What’s going on?”
“So much. I found him.”
“Found who?”
“The curator. You remember what Greta said after Gigi died, don’t you?”
“Greta, that lady is entertaining. You should have heard her that day I was at the Lake House after you’d laid down—”
“Leslie, can we not go there right now?” I snapped.
“Oh, right. Sorry. No. What did she say?”
“I asked her if she believed in magic, and she told me when she was little, her father warned her not to touch Gigi’s amethyst. That a curse lay trapped inside it or something.”
Leslie’s eyes widened. “Not this again. Geez, Sophia, will you please just see your doctor. Let them do a CAT scan or something.”
“Leslie, listen. I didn’t want to tell you, but the reason I agreed to come here was because I wanted to look for that curator. The one Gigi said Opa got it from. So before I got the chance to go to the museum, guess what Cullen shows me?”
“Well, I hope it was long and—”
“Never mind your bawdy jokes. He showed me a family portrait of his great-great-great-grandfather, who just happened to be a curator at the museum in the twenties. And guess what was in the portrait?
“The gem. The Purple Delhi Sapphire. He told me his grandfather found it but gave it away because it was cursed. I’m wondering if this curse is the key to everything. Maybe we should do a little more research?”
“I don’t know, Sophia. I get that this is a family heirloom and it came from somewhere, but this whole story you’re telling yourself about it… I mean, travelling through time. It’s pretty hard to believe.”
“I know, but it happened—or at least I think it did. The more time goes on, the more unsure I get. So here’s the thing. Why don’t you help me? If I’m wrong, I’ll check myself into a hospital for evaluation, but in the meantime, promise me you’ll help me. You’re the best friend I’ve got, practically family, and you know the archives inside and out. Please?”
There was a long pause.
“Fine, but I still don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to. Just help me figure out how the original purple amethyst got from Monaco to Ireland. If I can trace it back to Monaco and even further, maybe I can figure out who had it, who wanted it and find a way to control the magic.”
“All right. When are you coming home?”
“Saturday.”
“But you just got there. Enjoy yourself!”
“I am, but Cullen has to go to New York for a meeting anyway, so I’d just be here alone. I’m anxious being away from home. I know Gigi’s gone, but I feel closer to her when I’m there.”
We said our good-byes. I opened the door and headed back toward the table just as Cullen was walking away.
“Where are you going?” I was still a little freaked out from the call.
“I’m just off to the loo,” he said, turning back and smiling.
“Don’t worry, luv. You’ll be safe enough with us,” said Pete, or rather Big Pete Murphy, as Cullen called him. He was a tiny man, so I assumed it was one of those ironic names.
“He’s right. We’re not as fancy as Cullen, but we’re harmless, or at least I am. I wouldn’t trust Pete—he can be a bit kooky,” said Bert, who was a large, dark-haired man with a bushy moustache. “Speakin’ of that, have ya met Cullen’s family yet?
“Yes.”
“Their picture’s always in the Herald, quite well known in Dublin,” Pete said, shaking his head. “And that’s a fact. Supposed descendants of royalty, or some shite.”
“We like him anyway, though,” said Bert. “Dacent man to have a few pints with.” They both laughed.
“And ya know his brother, he’s turned quite a leaf. A man of the cloth now, he is,” Pete said casually. “Amazing, considering his crazy mam and all.”
That surprised me. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, ya could hear me story if there was a pint of Guinness in me hand.” Pete frowned at the empty glass on the table. “Sure, a man can’t talk if his whistle’s dried up.”
Apparently knowing the pulling power of Big Pete’s stories, the bartender set a pint in front of him in no time. Pete took a swallow and smacked his lips. The others leaned forward as he began to speak in a quiet voice.
“Mother Murphy knew him, Cullen’s brother. Used to help out with the local riffraff . A copper he was, with a real bad attitude. She said he was a real bad kid.” Pete took a long, slow swallow of Guinness and licked the foam lovingly off his lips.
“Ah, Jaysus, Pete, that’s a hard one to credit,” said Bert. “How do you know he was bad? Your mother’s crazier than you.”
Pete leaned forward onto the table and looked around as the others stretched in. “’Cause she was there when he was questioned over that missing girl,” he said as he paused for another swallow. He emptied the glass, which was replaced like magic by the bartender.
Just then Cullen returned from the washroom, apparently sooner than Pete expected, and everyone changed topics and pretended as though they’d never spoken of his family.
“Well, boys, time for us to exit. This is no place for a lady.”
“Aw, come on now, it hasn’t stopped Bert.” Pete laughed so hard he almost fell off his stool.
“Cullen, we don’t have to leave. I’m all right,” I said as Cullen placed my jacket around my shoulders, gently rebuffing his friends’ jeers.
He whispered in my ear as we got outside. “I thought maybe we could spend a proper night together instead of just talking about it.”
“Oh!” I felt my cheeks flush. “Yes, that would be nice.”
The bar was literally around the corner from his house, so the drive took all of five minutes. It felt like three the way Cullen was speeding.
As we made it through the front door, his hands slid under my loose sweater. He slipped it up and over my head with ease, letting his hands caress the skin of my back. He walked me toward the
living room couch.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been waiting so long. Are you okay to do this now?”
I took a quick breath and shivered.
My bra was lacy, and my breasts swelled above the cups. He reached around and unhooked it and then drew my face into his hands.
“Tell me now if you wanna stop, God forgive me, ’cause I don’t think I’ll be able to if we keep ’er up.”
“Please don’t stop,” I said, pulling my tights off. My voice was tremulous and so were my lips as he touched them with his thumb. His arousal was evident as he enfolded me, hugging me to him as we kissed. There wasn’t much to the back of my panties, and I heard him groan as he ran his hands over my bottom. I reached for his slacks and undid them. He raised himself up as they slid off. He laid me back down on the couch. He bent over me, sliding one hand between my thighs, guiding me between his with the other.
“Ah, Jaysus.” He moaned as I stroked him and kissed me harder. He applied his thumb to me, causing my breath to catch as well, and I arched my back. His hands felt hot as he squeezed my ass cheeks, securing his lower body as he sank into me.
“Hey,” he said, very softly. “What are you doing awake?
“I heard the water running,” I murmured, still half asleep.
He dropped his towel and pretended to dive on top of me, like he was some sort of wrestler jumping from the top of a ring. He was a playful sort of guy. I decided I liked playful, especially since he was now gently teasing my breasts awake with his tongue, tiny circles destined to invigorate and electrify them.
“Is it really time to go?” I asked, putting on a slight pout for dramatic effect.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I still have that meeting.”
The three days had flown by, and it was now Saturday.
“What if I do this?” I asked, throwing the sheet away to reveal my full nakedness.
“I like where this is heading, my little aeval.” He cupped my breasts and turned his tongue to my nipples, circling and sucking just a little bit too rough.
“You called me that the other day? What does it mean?” I whispered, turning over to burrow into the safety and warmth of his chest.
The Temple of Indra’s Jewel: Page 12