An Original Sin (19 page)

Fortune leaned over to look at his menu. “Beef seems to be their specialty. I bet they have good prime rib, if you like red meat. You probably like it rare—barely cooked.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “A baked potato would go well with prime rib. And I always enjoy the salad bar.” She smiled up at him, then returned to her own menu.

Thank you.
Leith wanted to kiss her soundly. She’d saved him the embarrassment of asking for help, and for this he owed her.

When she peeked over the top of her menu, he offered her a smile—one that suggested he always paid his debts. She immediately took refuge behind the menu again.

Leith glanced up at the woman waiting to take his order. “I’ll have prime rib—rare, a baked potato with everything on it, and the salad bar.” He smiled up at her and she smiled back, a smile he’d recognize across any time barrier.
Amazingly, it had no effect on him, and he waited impatiently as she fluttered around him like a drunken butterfly.

He glanced over at Fortune in time to see her eyes emerge from over the top of her menu—angry eyes. Suddenly he felt wonderful and rewarded the waitress with another smile that had her fluttering all the more.

When the food arrived, he lost himself in the flavor and texture of it—the meat was juicy and tender, the potato moist and oozing butter. His whole body sang with the glory of it. He glanced across at Fortune, who picked at a large salad. He was wrong. One body part didn’t join in the chorus, but yearned to sing alone. He attacked his meal with renewed gusto.

“That food will kill you.” She pushed a piece of lettuce into her mouth and chewed as though it were her duty.

He cut off a piece of rare meat and put it into his mouth. He chewed slowly before answering. “At least I won’t die a rabbit.” He sent her a sideways glance. “Mayhap ’tis my imagination, but are yer ears a wee bit longer and yer nose a wee bit pink?”

Lily’s laugh cut across whatever sharp retort Fortune had been planning. “Leave the man alone, honey. He needs his strength.” She winked at Leith, and he grinned back.

Lily reminded him of Moira—earthy, with common sense and an unquenchable sexual appetite. Exactly the kind of woman he’d pictured himself settling down with on some Scottish hillside.

Then why couldn’t he keep his gaze from Fortune—she of the lettuce leaves and carrot sticks, of the disapproving glances and evil plans? He shrugged and put another piece of meat into his mouth. Who could understand the vagaries of sexual attraction?

He refused to allow dark thoughts to ruin possibly the best meal he’d ever had.

When his dessert arrived, he thought he might simply die from the joy of it. Scooping up a large spoonful of vanilla ice cream covered with hot fudge sauce, he slitted his eyes as he savored every creamy drop, then slowly licked his lips clean.

Looking up, he caught Fortune’s gaze riveted on his lips, her eyes wide saucers of interest.

“Would ye like to taste this, lass? ’Tis delicious.”

She shook her head, her stare still locked on his lips, almost as though she hadn’t the power to look away.

“One spoonful wouldna harm ye,” he wheedled.

“No.” She blinked and finally glanced away. “It’s bad for me, and…I couldn’t stop at one spoonful. I’d want more and more. So…I think I’ll pass.”

Carefully he placed the spoon on his plate. “Why do I get the feeling ye’re not talking about the ice cream?”

Startled, she dared a look at him. “What else would I be talking about?”

His appetite suddenly gone, he pushed the remainder of the dessert away. “What indeed?”

“Hey, guys, let’s not get so intense over a dish of ice cream.” Blade glanced at his watch. “Besides, it’s almost time for the movie.”

God’s teeth, would he never learn what all these words meant? Rising, Leith followed Blade and Lily from the restaurant. Fortune walked beside him.

Glancing up with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she stood for a moment on tiptoe to reach his ear. “Movies are moving pictures projected onto a large screen. They tell a story.” She grinned. “And thank you for not asking Blade.”

“Besides primitive, ye also think me a fool. ’Twas a mistake asking about the mall. I willna do it again.” He knew he sounded stiff and defensive, but he couldn’t help it. No matter how he tried to deny it, her opinion of him mattered.

She moved a small distance away from him, but it symbolized much more. Six centuries, to be exact. “I’m sorry if you thought I was making fun of you. I know I have an advantage because I studied history disks and understand a lot of what’s happening. That doesn’t mean I think you’re a fool.”

“Only primitive?” He was regaining his sense of humor.

She considered this as she waited for Blade to pay for their meal. “Well, you
are
primitive. That’s not a put-down, just a fact. I’d think of anyone from your time period as primitive.”

He put his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close to him. He could feel her stiffen and then slowly relax against his side. She felt good, and he almost lost his train of thought. “Dinna mistake me, lass. I may not understand yer modern inventions, but I understand human nature verra well. I’ve lived thirty-two years,
survived
thirty-two years. I’ve known fear, hate, pain, but I’ve always survived. Ye have yet to be tested, Fortune. Ye trust too much.”
Especially me.
“For example, ye were unwise to tell me yer plans to take me home wi’ ye. Now I will guard myself from ye.”

Her eyes were wide, confused. “I don’t like to lie.”

He pounced. “Aye. And because ye dinna like to lie, ye’ve warned the enemy.” Something wasn’t quite right about those words. He frowned.

Her gaze turned stricken. “Is that how you see me, Leith? The enemy?”

He stopped, rooted to the spot. Gazing into her eyes, he gazed into his own soul—fearful, confused. “I dinna know, lass.” Those words, perhaps the most truthful he’d spoken since landing in this time, were painful to speak.

Even worse was the resigned sadness in her gaze. “I see.” Her tone expressionless, she turned from him and headed for the door even as Blade flung it open.

“Quit jawin’ and come on, big guy. We’re gonna be late for the show.”

Leith followed them into the theater, glancing at the movie’s title as he did so.
“Highlander?”

“Yeah. The latest one. I thought of you as soon as I saw it was playing. Lily and I decided since you were Scottish, maybe you’d like to see the old homeland.”

No!
Leith could feel his heartbeat quickening.

“It’s about this guy who’s immortal, and they have flashbacks to things that happened in Scotland hundreds of years ago. We thought you’d enjoy it.” Blade paused, waiting, no doubt, for Leith’s exclamations of pleasure.

No!
He didn’t want to deal with the emotions—loss, sorrow. But gazing at Blade’s and Lily’s expectant smiles, he couldn’t disappoint them. “Aye, I can hardly wait.”

Only Fortune wasn’t smiling. She looked worried. “I don’t feel too well. Maybe we should skip the movie.”

Leith narrowed his gaze on her. She looked healthy. Could she be trying to protect him? Even after his comment about her being his enemy? Unlikely. “If Fortune feels unwell, mayhap we could—”

Lily reached into her purse and pulled out a small package. “Here, have a Tums. You probably just ate a little too much. Happens to me all the time.” Handing her the package, Lily proceeded into the movie.

Fortune cast Leith an
I tried
look, shrugged, then followed Lily into the theater.

Leith was perplexed. Fortune
had
tried to shield him. Strange that she could sense his feelings. Even stranger that she’d want to help him after what he’d said.

Finding his seat in the darkness, Leith stared at the huge screen suddenly filled with larger-than-life figures; then the story catapulted him back to Scotland.

For an instant he closed his eyes, then opened them to
scenes of…Glencoe. Clutching the arms of the seat, he held on tightly to keep from shaking. This then was also part of his penance, to experience again and again the horror. How many times could he relive it before he went mad?

The faces were different, but everything else was the same—the blood, the despair, the regret. He blinked away sudden moisture. He had not wept since his parents’ deaths, and would not weep for this. But he would grieve forever.

Only his vow never to hide again kept him from exploding out of his seat and racing from the theater.

Just when he thought he could stand no more, he felt her hand. As she had done in the taxi that first day, she pried his fingers open and gripped his hand tightly in the warmth of her own.

“Hold tight; it’ll be over soon.” Her whisper fanned his neck, a blessed breath of heat to battle the coldness spreading from his heart.

Without warning, a weight landed in his lap. Only the training of a lifetime kept him from shouting his surprise. The weight curled into a ball and proceeded to purr loudly.

“What the…?” He stared down into Ganymede’s gleaming eyes. And even though he should be shocked, he wasn’t.

Fortune leaned closer. “Is that…?”

“Yes.”

She asked nothing more, and Leith reached down to pet the cat. The repetitive motion of his hand down Ganymede’s smooth body calmed him, slowed his heartbeat, allowed him to get through the last of the movie.

More than how Ganymede had found them, Leith wondered why he had chosen his lap this time when he usually favored Fortune. But whatever the reason, between
Fortune’s warm hand and Ganymede’s comforting purr, he managed to stumble from the dark theater and his even darker memories with his soul still intact. Barely. He would have to make sure Blade didn’t choose any more movies he thought would remind Leith of home.

As he left the theater with Ganymede in his arms, he met Blade’s astonished gaze. “Where the hell’d he come from?”

Leith shrugged. “I dinna know. I left him at home wi’ the window open only a wee bit.”

Blade nodded sagely. “Yeah. Even a roach couldn’t crawl through. Know the feeling.”

Fortune was quiet on the way back to the house, and Leith felt unable to say anything. But Blade made up for the silence in the backseat. “Great movie. Lots of action. Real men. That fight at Glencoe was something else. I know those Campbells were probably your ancestors, but ya gotta admit they didn’t play fair.” He glanced at Leith in his rearview mirror. “You look a lot like that High-lander, big guy. Different eye color, but real intense, just like him. Hair’s the same, too.”

Leith shifted his gaze from Blade’s. “He was only playing a part.”
But I’ve lived the part—smelled the blood, felt the cut of the blade, known the rage, the helplessness. At the end, the dead did not rise, brush themselves off, and go home. The keening didn’t stop, will never stop. It echoes down through the centuries, pulling me back to Scotland, to Hugh.
“And ye’re right, the Campbells didna play fair.”

Lily turned to glance at him. “Not to change the subject, but we’ve gotta get one of you guys a driver’s license. Even if you’re not staying in Texas very long, you’ll need a vehicle. Get your ID together, and we’ll take you down to the Department of Motor Vehicles tomorrow.”

Fortune gave him no time to reply. “Leith can’t get a license. He has…seizures. Not often, but they won’t give
him a license, since he can’t predict when they’ll happen. And I…I lost my license.”

“Lost your license?” Blade sounded scandalized. “What could a sweet little thing like you have done to lose—”

Lily gave him a not-too-gentle shove. “Leave her alone dumpling. That’s none of our business.”

“Hmmph.” Blade’s comment was less than gracious, but he asked nothing more.

Fortune relaxed against the seat, limp with relief. They’d dodged another potentially disastrous situation. No matter how friendly Blade and Lily were, they’d get suspicious if they learned that not only didn’t Leith and she have identification, but they didn’t even exist so far as the world knew.

Thank heavens Leith didn’t challenge her assertions. But he hadn’t said much of anything since the movie ended. How would she feel if something horrific had happened in her life, and then she went to the movies and had to watch the whole thing reenacted on a giant screen for all the world to see?

She breathed a sigh of relief when they finally pulled to a stop in front of their house. Climbing out, she walked toward the door with Leith right behind her. Ganymede wound between their legs so he could be first inside.

Leith reached around her to unlock the door. “Let me go inside first, lass.”

Puzzled, she stepped back. “Why?”

“ ’Tis wise to be careful. We dinna know how safe this area is. Remember the ice-cream man. ’Tis possible he was the victim of foul play.” Leith eased the door open, then motioned her to stay still until he’d gone through the house.

She stood fuming until he came back. “Aren’t you being a little paranoid, Leith? I don’t think we have anything that would get us to the top of someone’s hit list.”

“Hit list?” He glanced at the couch with distaste. “What is a hit list?” He began dragging his shirt off, and she realized he intended to sleep on the couch.

Not tonight.
“A hit list is a list of people scheduled for assassination.” She walked over and put her hand over his as he unfastened the last button. “Wait. Sleep in the bed tonight. We’re adults. You need a good night’s sleep after that movie.”

He slanted her a tired smile. “Aye. ’Tis a good idea. It willna bother ye?”

She threw a glance over her shoulder as she entered the bedroom. “It willna bother me.”

She was a liar. An hour later she lay in the dark staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t moved, but she knew he wasn’t asleep.
OK. Get it over with.
“Come here, Leith.” Would he move over or would he simply laugh at her order?

Wordlessly he rolled toward her. Wiggling her arm beneath his head, she cradled him to her. He molded his body to hers and she felt his heat seep into every crevice of her heart. “Sleep, dark warrior. I’ll keep you safe tonight.”

She felt his shudder. “Not even ye could keep me safe from my demons tonight, lass.”