The Curse: Touch of Eternity (The Curse series) (13 page)

“It’s not up to Cathal, either,” Payton said, slowing.

“But what about Blair? You swore an oath to him. And Blair will, as always, be of the same opinion as Cathal.”

Rotten wooden planks led up to a scenic viewing area. Payton leaned his back against the fence, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “We don’t have to tell them.”

Sean didn’t say a word for several minutes.

“All right, then,” he finally said, “tell me the rest of the story, and we’ll figure out what’s best, together. What’s important to the clan and what’s not.”

Payton shrugged, like he might be amenable.

“So she looks like a Cameron,” Sean said. “But is she a Cameron?”

“I haven’t any idea. Her name is Samantha Watts. She’s American. But I doubt she’s a Cameron. How could she be?”

“We have to find out. And if she is, we must tell Cathal.”

“
Ifrinn!
I will not tell him! He hates the Camerons. I will not put her into danger.”

“Why is this Samantha so important to you? You keep reverting back into Gaelic. That shows me how much you care.”

Payton turned away. He felt caught. Sean always seemed to know his thoughts; it didn’t seem fair. If only he knew himself what he should do. He briefly closed his eyes and breathed in the salty sea air.

Sean shook his head in disbelief. His question was hardly more than a whisper.

“You think I love her? How could that be possible? Have you forgotten that we are cursed?” Payton shoved his hands into his face, running them up and over his hair.

“Yes, I think that you love her. And the curse, for whatever reason, seems to be changing. Your feelings for this girl, the fact that I felt pain, the fact that we’re all laughing so much more readily. These are all signs that something is happening. Nathaira is very unsettled, too.”

Payton made a dismissive gesture. “We have only the Stuarts to thank—and their ancient fight—for this infernal curse. Had I known that night what a price we would all have to pay for it, I would have turned against Cathal.”

They had talked about that night many times since. The McLean family had joined together with the Stuarts, and had sworn to support Cathal, the chieftain of the Stuarts, and his people. So like Payton, Sean had followed Cathal into battle. Blair, Cathal’s childhood friend, had joined with them, too. Sean and Payton had trusted Blair and chose to ride with him. But Blair’s youngest brother, Kyle, had secretly followed their group, hoping to stop them. When they spotted his horse, on a hill far behind them, Nathaira had ridden back to tell Kyle to go home. But it was too late. By the time she galloped up to him, he was already dying. A stab in the back had dug deeply into his lung, and the enemy had fled. Nathaira had returned to the group,
smeared all over with Kyle’s blood, and had told them about the Camerons’ treacherous murder of innocent Kyle. Beside himself with anger, Blair swore he would take revenge.

Payton had always wondered how things between the Stuarts and Camerons would have been different if the Camerons had left Kyle in peace.

“Payton, we’ve talked this over for hundreds of years, and you know there’s no sense in talking about it again. It’s over.”

“You know nothing! I let Isobel Cameron die. And because I wanted to save her, Kenzie Stuart died. For that alone I deserve purgatory. And now, almost three hundred years later, I meet this girl. I even dreamed I would let her fall. Just like Isobel!”

Sean couldn’t answer to that. He himself was not free of guilt. But he had learned to live with it.

Payton sighed. “Sean, please understand. I have to protect her. And I must find out what is happening to me.”

He kicked at the ground, knocking a few pebbles over the cliff. “Do you know what else? I felt the warmth of the sun.”

“And what does it feel like? I can’t even remember.”

“
Och
, it was unbelievable. I also had goose bumps because I was cold.”

“God, I would risk everything to have feelings, too.”

Payton nodded. “So what shall we do now?”

Sean rubbed his chin, thinking, “We will wait to see what the meeting brings.”

Payton was relieved. “Thanks, brother.”

“Don’t thank me too early,” he warned. “I want to meet this girl.”

“What? No way!”

“That’s my condition. Otherwise, I’ll tell the others everything.”

Payton’s jaw muscles twitched angrily.

“No!” he growled. “You will stay away from her, or there will be trouble.”

Sean did not seem the slightest bit impressed by Payton’s warning. “I’ll have time on Friday. Think on this, brother. I will stand true to the oath that I swore Blair. I will not stand against the clan just because of some girl you told me about. I want to see her for myself.”

With that, he left Payton standing on the cliff. With the engine of his motorcycle running, he yelled, “If you want another race, then you’ll have to come now. Maybe I’ll let you win this time!”

Then he sped off with screaming tires. Payton stared at his disappearing brother, and stayed right where he was. He didn’t want to race. He felt the calamity that was brewing for them all.

I
t was just before eight. I stood at the bus stop, full of anticipation, wearing a brown suede miniskirt that I felt slightly ridiculous in. I’d bought the skirt in Inverness to impress Payton, because all I’d packed for my trip were jeans, shorts, and casual tops—and one nice dress, just in case I had to go to church. But I desperately wanted to look good, so I splurged on the skirt. I paired it with a low-cut black sweater and hid the not-enough-cleavage problem with a cute scarf.

I had missed Payton. I’d been glowing all day since he’d called me darling. My thoughts were whirling: Was I really in love? Could he actually be in love with me? Maybe in a few hours, I’d get my first kiss. I was dizzy just thinking about the possibility.

His white SUV turned the corner and stopped next to me.

Payton looked even better than in my memory. His light-brown hair was casually ruffled, and his eyes had a sparkle like the sunlight I’d seen on the lochs. I’d barely buckled my seat belt when he hit the gas and the car took off.

“What story did you have to make up so you could see me?”

“None. I just told Roy that a really great guy had invited me to go to a pub, and he was totally cool about it. He just said that I should resist the urge to find out what Scots wear under their kilt on a first date.”

Payton laughed. “Oh, if I had realized that you’d been wondering about that, I would’ve worn my kilt.”

It felt like my heart might actually beat out of my chest. Thank God I was sitting down.

We had been driving for only about five minutes when Payton steered into a parking space and we crossed the street to a pub. From outside, I could already hear the sound of amplified guitar. Payton politely held the door for me. I was surprised how many people were packed into the place. I tried to push through the crowd but didn’t get very far, so I was glad when I suddenly felt Payton’s hand on my shoulder. He guided me to an empty table in the corner, where it was a bit quieter.

Most of the patrons were thronged around the bar while up on stage, two guys were playing guitar and singing rowdy folk songs. I yanked my miniskirt down a bit and slid into a chair. It was hot inside and a lot livelier than most parties Kim dragged me to back home. I was kind of excited to be in a pub to begin with. I was surprised that no one checked my ID.

A stocky waitress made her way skillfully through the crowd to take our order: two ales and two fish suppers. Payton had told me I needed to get to know the local food, and it was either that or the haggis. And when he revealed that haggis is sheep’s stomach filled with offal, I chose the fish dish, no further questions asked.

The music was fabulous, but you had to shout to have a conversation. I leaned over to Payton, quite close to him.

“How was your meeting with your brother?”

Payton drew away from me a little bit and shrugged.

“Eh, it went OK. He’s kind of a pain in the neck. He wants to meet you.”

“Me? Why? You told him about me?”

“Yes, and now he’s curious.”

It suddenly got quieter. The musicians climbed off-stage for a break and headed for the bar. A few people made toasts to them, merrily clinking glasses together. One of the musicians shouted something, and everyone laughed.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“He said that there are two empty guitars, and that anyone is welcome to go up and play while they enjoy a few beers. Would you like to?”

Actually, I could play guitar fairly well, but I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of Payton, much less a pub full of strangers.

“No way. But what about you?”

He thought about it briefly, and then, to my surprise, he nodded.

“You know what? I haven’t played for ages, but why not?”

He took my hand and pulled me toward the stage. He nodded at the smiling musicians, bowed to the other guests, and sat down on the stool. The crowd quieted, expectantly. Then Payton began to sing in Gaelic. Although I couldn’t understand the words, the tune was beautiful.

Payton plucked at the strings of the guitar at the exact same speed as the beating of my heart. His eyes were locked on me. My vision narrowed, and it was as if we were alone.
The world around us had stopped turning. Only he and I and this old song existed.

After the last chords died away, there was a burst of applause and a free whiskey from the crowd.

“And now you,” he demanded, shoving the instrument into my hands. Everyone clapped encouragingly, so even though I was sweating, I gave in. Just as seriously and thoughtfully as Payton, I sat down on the stool. I bowed slightly. Then I launched into “I Gotta Feeling”—strumming and singing way more energetically than the crowd was expecting.

I immediately won the audience over. They laughed, and in a flash they were all singing along with the Black Eyed Peas song. That was excellent because my voice is only so-so.

I searched for Payton’s eyes. He wasn’t singing, but he was smiling. Better than nothing. The last verse of the song was completely drowned out by the clapping and chanting of the crowd. When I climbed off the stage, I was handed a glass of whiskey of my own. Payton and I squeezed our way back to our table through the jubilant crowd.

“That was excellent. You were great! My mushy love song was no match.”

I was still quite breathless and really hot. Without thinking, I pulled off my scarf and wiped the thin layer of sweat from my face.

Suddenly, Payton froze. He stared at my neckline and looked totally crushed. He grabbed me roughly by the arm, pulled me toward him, and took my pendant into his hand.

“What. Is. That?” His voice was dangerously quiet. He held my arm in a viselike grip and fixed me with an icy-cold stare.

“Nothing… What do you mean? Ow, let go of me!”

I tried to free myself, but he yanked me even closer.

“Sam”—the way he said my name sounded almost like a threat—“tell me where you got this pendant, immediately!”

I had no idea what was going on. His fingers dug painfully into my skin, and his face had clouded. His cheekbones were standing out as he clenched his jaw, and his lips were bloodless and tightly shut.

“Let go of me! What are you doing?”

I jerked away, horrified, and rubbed my arm.

Payton practically knocked the table over as he abruptly left the pub. Not sure what to do, I stood there a moment. Our order hadn’t even arrived yet. I pulled a ten-pound note from my purse and put it on the table, and then I followed my strange companion outside.

He wasn’t in front of the pub, so I crossed the road and looked around. His car was still there, and Payton was behind it, just standing there.

“What’s wrong with you?” I was furious. The evening wasn’t turning out at all like I’d hoped.

“With me? You’re asking me?”

Payton was shouting so loud I jumped.

“Yes, I’m asking you! What was that, back in the pub, with the necklace? I’m really getting fed up with your mood swings!”

“I need to know what that is.” He motioned at my necklace in disgust.

“It’s called jewelry! I inherited it, if you really want to know. But I don’t know how that’s any of your business.” I wrapped my scarf around my neck again and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“You inherited it? A Cameron heirloom? That actually explains quite a lot!”

Well, good for you, I thought, because I didn’t understand a thing, except that every time I was about to kiss a boy, something went terribly wrong. I was close to tears. Just minutes before, everything had been perfect. Then suddenly we were facing each other like enemies. And I didn’t even know why. I didn’t want things between us to end like this. Carefully, I reached out my hand.

“Payton, please. Tell me what’s going on. I really don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

A single tear rolled down my cheek, but he seemed made of stone. He didn’t answer.

I yelled his name one more time. I wanted to hit or shake him, just to get him to react. But he shook his head and lowered his eyes.

“I have to go,” he said. “We shouldn’t meet again.”

Without looking at me, he got into his car and started the engine. I was trembling and tears were streaming down my face, but I didn’t care. I helplessly stood watching the taillights of his car get smaller and smaller.

A bunch of people came out of the pub laughing and disappeared down the road. I stood there dumbstruck. Then I wiped the tears off my face and started to walk home. Thankfully, we had stayed in Aviemore and I was home within ten minutes.

As I passed through the living room, Alison looked concerned, but she was polite enough not to question me. I was relieved when she didn’t follow me up the stairs.

I banged the door behind me and threw myself onto the bed, sobbing into my pillow until I could hardly breathe. I hated Payton. I hated Scotland. I hated Mr. Schneider for getting me into this mess. I hated my parents for agreeing to his plan. And most of all, I hated most this stupid, stupid pendant!