CHAPTER 3
I opened my eyes.
The molded ceiling in my bedroom looked like it had since my childhood, but I had changed. I was no longer that little
girl who admired the pretty roses on her bed and imagined what it would be like to marry a prince.
I was eighteen years old. I had lived through indescribable things during my visit to Scotland. And I had to come to
terms with the fact that for centuries my own family’s history was inextricably linked to Payton’s.
Fate had brought us together to right a past wrong and to finally allow love to claim victory over hatred.
Vanora’s curse caused Payton McLean to suffer terrible pain every time we were together. Although he realized that I
carried within me the blood of the Camerons—the blood of his enemies—he fell in love, and his feelings for me softened
the curse and brought him back to life. His love for me was strong enough to defy even death. He would have died for me
—and he almost had died from a stab wound to the heart.
And now he was lying beside me. His breathing was regular, so I knew he was still asleep. I gently caressed the bandage.
I could feel his heartbeat. Once during the weeks in the hospital, I had seen the wound that Nathaira had inflicted. She
had wanted to stab me with her dagger. She had wanted me dead, but she lost, and her hatred and anger died with her.
I could barely believe my luck. The coolest boy in the world with a small crescent-shaped scar on his chin and the most
intense look in his eyes, a look strong enough to turn my legs into Jell-O: That boy was my best friend and boyfriend
all rolled into one.
I was still staring at him when Payton woke up with a start, grabbing his head and groaning.
“Good morning,” I whispered, fully in love—but I didn’t get a reply.
Payton swung his legs around and sat upright on the edge of the bed. He held his head and mumbled something in Gaelic.
I clambered up next to him, caressing his back.
“Payton, are you okay? Is the wound hurting?”
“Ifrinn! No. Don’t worry, everything’s all right.”
“You’re crazy! I can see you’re not well. What’s the matter?”
It made me angry that he thought he needed to play the bulletproof Highlander in front of me. His smile seemed forced.
“Hmm, maybe last night was a bit much. I had no idea how insatiable you could be, my sweet little Sam.”
I knew that he was only trying to change the subject, but I still blushed at his words.
“As if!” I protested. “Don’t blame me if you’re not feeling too hot.”
He seemed to be feeling better already, because he got up and started picking up his clothes. That was a sensible thing
to do since it was almost eight o’clock. In an hour, Kim would descend on the house with her “party evidence removal
team” to clear away as much of the mess as possible before my parents returned. Especially given the most recent events
—most of which they luckily knew only little about—I thought it was cool on their part to leave me the house for my
birthday party. But in return they had requested that everything be back in its place by noon. Which was what we needed
to focus on right now.
I was loading the rest of the glasses into the dishwasher when Sean dropped in through the back door. Content to see
that his help was no longer needed, he slumped into an armchair.
“You guys have been busy this morning.” He nodded approvingly.
“Well, you could have come a bit earlier and helped us pick up.” I couldn’t help giving a snap reply when it was
obviously on purpose that he only turned up now. “Kim and the others have already left. We’re as good as done.”
“Sure, sure, I could have, but then I didn’t want to,” he quipped, giving me a mischievous wink that charmed a smile
out of me.
“Where’s the little guy?” he asked jokingly. Even though Payton was a few years younger than Sean, the brothers were
both of considerable height.
I used my elbow to point at the stairway while I continued cleaning the big chili pot.
“Upstairs. He’s taking the fairy lights up to the attic and should be back in a minute.”
“Good, because now that he’s feeling better, I wanted to drive up to Ashley Bennett’s for a couple of days.”
“Really? I had no idea you guys were getting serious.”
Sean shrugged. “Yeah, well, I thought it was only this strange situation that had brought us closer together, but
we’re getting along really well. We call each other every day. To be honest, I miss her.”
I couldn’t really relate to someone missing Cousin Ashley. After all, her annual visit during the summer holidays was
one of the main reasons I’d wanted to go on that student-exchange trip to Scotland in the first place. I didn’t like
having to share my bedroom every single summer.
But by now Ashley and I were getting on pretty well. It was all my fault that she’d been dragged into this crazy story
with the curse. Payton’s friends, who were all under the curse, had kidnapped Ashley because they thought that the
blood of the Camerons was running through her veins, too, which wasn’t true. Sean had managed to avert the worst from
happening. When he met Ashley, the curse in him had already weakened, and in my mind that was why he was blinded by her
beauty. After all those years he had spent without feelings or emotions, any woman probably could have won his heart.
But maybe I was wrong, because Sean seemed to truly mean what he said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll look after Payton. The wound seems to be healing well.”
For a split second I thought I saw Sean’s eyes darken as if he were hiding something from me, but a moment later I was
sure I had only imagined it.
Footsteps coming down the stairway announced Payton’s return from the attic, and immediately my heart beat faster.
After last night I longed for him even more than during the whole time we were separated because of the curse. A few
words of swearing in Gaelic followed by a loud rumble jolted me from my daydream.
Before I could even react, Sean had jumped up and rushed into the hallway. I let the big chili pot slide back into the
sink and hurried after him.
Payton lay motionless at the foot of the stairwell. His brother knelt beside him, tearing open his shirt and checking
his wound.
I froze in helpless shock while Sean carefully lifted the bandage on Payton’s chest. I noticed his worried face as he
gingerly traced the length of the stitches, and I saw his relief when he realized that the stab wound hadn’t reopened.
“Daingead! How handy it was to be invulnerable,” he cursed, then added with a whisper and a hint of regret, “And
immortal.”
Cautiously, I knelt beside my love and caressed his forehead. He was pale, his face distorted with pain. Slowly his
eyelids started fluttering, and he opened them with a groan. I firmly pressed him down with the flat of my hand.
“Payton, stay still, mo luaidh.”
Sean stood up in obvious relief at the sight of his little brother moving. He shook his head in mock outrage.
“Brother, my brother. Seems to me you can’t hold your liquor anymore. How much exactly did you have to drink last
night? You’re staggering around like a drunk person.”
“He wasn’t drinking at all last night,” I explained. The fact that Payton wasn’t even trying to get up had me
worried again. He really was in a bad way.
“Could you try to lie on the couch? Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You’ve been feeling miserable since this
morning.”
“No, no, I’m all right,” dismissed Payton, struggling to his feet. I could feel Sean’s skeptical eyes on my back as
I dragged Payton to the couch.
“Ciod tha uait?” Sean asked.
I gave him a puzzled look. Why would he speak Gaelic? Was he trying to hide something from me? I didn’t have time to
dwell on it. Payton asked for a glass of water, and I hurried into the kitchen, glad to be of use and forget about my
worries.
When I returned, the brothers were engaged in a heated debate. I understood very little Gaelic, and what I heard just
sounded like two dogs barking at each other. Still, I could tell that for once they weren’t in complete agreement.
“What’s the matter? What are you talking about?” I inquired. But both of them ignored me.
They flashed their eyes at each other angrily, until Payton held out his hand and dragged me down to the couch with him.
He quickly kissed me on the lips and gave his brother a warning stare. Sean turned away sullenly.
My mood started to sour. Did these two really think they could get away with jerking me around? Something was up—I was
sure of it—and with all the authority I could muster, I demanded they tell me what it was.
“You two are going to tell me right now what’s going on! Why are you being so secretive?” I asked.
Sean completely ignored me, inspecting the tips of his shoes instead. Payton remained doggedly silent, too. If there was
anything I had learned from these pigheaded Scots during the past couple of weeks, it was that I would never emerge the
winner in an argument. Furiously, I jumped up and slammed the kitchen door behind me. This helped soothe my anger.
Probably, I admitted to myself, I was only irritated because I was so very worried about Payton when in fact he seemed
perfectly all right. At least that was what I thought when I heard a heated curse in Gaelic coming from the living room,
where he continued arguing with Sean. Feeling mellower already, I took out the rest of my anger on the stupid chili pot.
Payton stared angry holes into the door that had just slammed shut behind Sam. Sean didn’t say a word but fixed his
gaze on his brother.
Finally, Payton rubbed his hands over his face as if to wash away the horror that had taken ahold of him.
“Are you sure?” he asked in quiet disbelief.
“No, I’m not. But I know what I’ve heard.”
“How is it possible that she has the power to do this?” Payton said.
“Don’t forget who Nathaira was! Maybe she carried her mother’s strength inside her. And remember that her mother was
powerful enough to put all of us under a curse for two hundred and seventy years!”
“How come you never told me this?”
Sean couldn’t take Payton’s accusing eyes any longer, and he sank into the armchair.
“I didn’t want to believe it at first. When she died, I thought the curse had died with her. After all, you survived
her attack and the surgery, too. And you seemed to be getting better every day.”
“Oh, so that’s when you thought it wasn’t worth mentioning that this cursed witch Nathaira—the one who killed our
brother Kyle, the one who tried to kill Sam, and the one who didn’t even shy away from driving her sgian dhu into my
chest—that she tried to curse me with her dying breath?” Payton’s voice was now a scream. “Is that what you thought,
Sean? That it wasn’t important enough to mention?”
“Listen, you’d been stabbed, I didn’t want to upset you, and…” Sean shrugged helplessly, but Payton wasn’t looking
for an explanation.
“And now? What do I do now? What’s going to happen to me?”
“I don’t know, Brother, but I swear I’m not going to let you die,” Sean reassured him, knitting his brow as he
frantically worked on a solution.
“She spoke the curse. I didn’t understand every single word of it, but she said something about it being a mistake to
let Sam go and that—because you were prepared to die for her—you must die for her now.”
“Let Sam go? What did she mean by that?”
“That’s just it. I thought she was babbling, which is why I didn’t really take it seriously. I guess I underestimated
how full of hatred and resentment she was.”
Payton saw that remembering the events at South Dupont Boulevard made Sean’s skin crawl. Nathaira had tried to stop the
curse from being further weakened by Sam, but the moment she felt cornered, she had admitted to murdering their little
brother Kyle and her own stepmother. He’d rather forget the excruciating pain that her confessions had caused, forget
everything that had happened there—even though his selfless act of standing up for Samantha had ended the curse that
had weighed on them all for almost three centuries.
“If I have to die for saving Sam’s life, then I don’t regret what I did. If that was what Nathaira wanted to achieve,
she shouldn’t have bothered. I would do it all over again, knowing what I know about her curse—except, this time
around I would first cut her throat!”
“I’m sure that was exactly her intention. Can you imagine how much guilt and blame that would put on Sam? You were to
die because she survived.…You think Sam can handle it?”
Payton shook his head. He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Sam would blame herself, and it would surely destroy her
life.
“We can never tell her. She must never know!” he implored.
“And how do you imagine we do that? Do you want to stick it out and wait for Nathaira’s curse to come true?” Sean
inquired. “I told you all of this because there must be a way to save you!”
“Save me?”
What could possibly save him? That would be like winning the lottery twice in a row.
“I don’t know, but up until recently, we didn’t even think it possible to break Vanora’s curse, remember? I mean, we
have to try.”
“But how?” Payton asked, the anxiety visibly sapping his energy. He felt wobbly and weak. And he was afraid. He didn’
t want to die or for Nathaira to win from beyond the grave. He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath.
Whatever Sean would suggest they do, Payton would agree to it. He would put up another fight this time around. Only this
time he didn’t know where his strength would come from.
“I thought maybe we could find something in Nathaira’s papers. After all, she was always preoccupied with this sort of
stuff,” Sean suggested.
“Hmm, or maybe this Roy Leary guy might help me,” Payton said, thinking out loud.
“Roy who?”
“You don’t know him. I don’t know all that much about him, either, but he seemed to know a hell of a lot about Vanora
and us. It can’t hurt to ask him.”
“Very well. Either way, we had better get back to Scotland as quickly as possible. I’ll go pack our bags. You wrap
things up here and then follow me to the motel so we can leave.”
“Wrap things up? What exactly do you want me to tell Sam without her blaming herself?”
“Tell her nothing. If she finds out that you’re not doing well, she won’t let you return to Scotland by yourself. But
if she comes with us, she’ll either see you die or interfere with our investigations. Unless we want her to find out
what role she actually plays in this.…”
“But I can’t just leave her!”
“Do whatever you think is right. But for someone her age, I think it’s easier to get over someone who leaves you than
to blame yourself forever for the death of someone you love.” With that, Sean turned around and left the way he had
come, out the back door.
For a good while afterward, Payton sat motionless. Then, one last time, he went upstairs to the bedroom where he had
made love to his beloved Sam for the first time.
Washing the dishes really did have a soothing effect on me. Brothers sometimes had their secrets, and I tried to
convince myself that this was completely normal. After all, I would never share any of Kim’s personal stuff with the
boys, and so Payton was surely entitled to a bit of privacy, too.
I was so sympathetic and tried to spread a cheerful mood for the next hour or so, but Payton still seemed dejected and
crestfallen. Somehow he was miles away from me.
“What’s wrong? You didn’t hurt yourself when you fell down the stairs, did you?” I probed.
“Hmm? Did you say something?”
“Payton, what are you thinking about right now?”
He pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around my hips. And with his velvety voice—which had enthralled me ever
since our first meeting at the Glenfinnan Monument—he whispered into my ear. “Mo luaidh, all I think about is you—
every minute of every day.”
“Aw, you’re cute. Maybe I’ll keep you,” I jested before quickly getting up and glancing at my watch. My parents
would be back soon. They weren’t against my relationship with Payton, but they weren’t exactly overjoyed, either.
After all, I had gotten mixed up in a shoot-out and had almost fallen to my death from the fourth floor of a motel. Up
to a point, I could even understand their skepticism, although none of it was Payton’s fault, of course.
Anyway, they would probably arrive any minute now. I wanted to avoid a confrontation, so I pulled him with me to the
front door.
“This is very hard for me, you wicked, wicked Scotsman, but I’m afraid you have to leave.”
I couldn’t entirely read his expression. He was as closed off now as he was when Vanora’s immortality curse ruled his
life. Yet I detected an unspeakable sadness as he pulled me close and looked deep into my eyes.
“You’re right,” he said. “It’s time for me to leave.”
Why did this give me the shivers? Why did I suddenly feel so funny? I withdrew from his arms and gave him a long,
questioning look. But his eyes were as deep and bottomless as the depths of a Scottish loch.
I got up on tiptoes to kiss him good-bye, but he pushed me away as if wanting to memorize my face.
“Sam, I…I have to go. Tha gràdh agam ort,” he whispered against my lips, and every single word was like a caress.
“I love you, too,” I told him.
He walked along the garden path but stopped after only a few yards. He came back, his face contorted with pain.
“Sam, I can’t leave without kissing you one last time.”
It sounded almost like an apology, but I wouldn’t have complained if he’d wanted to kiss me good-bye a thousand more
times. Who would have thought that being kissed could feel so amazing?
His kiss was soft and tender. I felt his deep, endless love, which left me floating on cloud nine long after he was
gone.