his eyes said and heat blazed through her. Damn, but he was unsettling.
Sara ignored the look and led the way to the library, closing the door behind
them, but not locking it. She didn’t need to be giving this hot little fantasy of hers any more ideas. She pulled the envelope out from behind the book and handed it to him.
He sat down at a small desk and spread the papers in front of him and began
reading. Sara sat down on the sofa near the desk and watched him. He was as tense as a mountain cat ready to spring. The fingers of his large, strong hands flexed and stretched on the table as he read, reminding her of a big cat retracting its claws. He raised an eyebrow from time to time and on occasions, he frowned, but he didn’t look up.
It was nearly lunchtime when he finally gathered the documents and put them
carefully inside the envelope. He sat back and rubbed his eyes.
“Well?” Sara was about to burst from curiosity. He started and she wondered if he’d forgotten that she was there. She had hardly moved a muscle for nearly three hours and not spoken a word.
“It’s as I suspected,” he said. “The Sacred Hallows are in the United States. I have to find them.”
“Hallows?” she repeated, her mind running a rapid data search through Celtic
history. “Are you speaking of ancient Hallows of the Tuatha de Danann?”
Lucas looked surprised. “You’re familiar with them?”
How much to tell him? That the Tuatha de Danann were the people of the
Goddess? When she had told the second important man in her life, the one after the crook and before the adulterer, that she practiced the Old Ways of Brighid, he had called her a witch—not the good kind—and accused her of bewitching him. Blessed be. As if that’s the way the Goddess worked. He’d also tried to sully her reputation and nearly ruined her business. Best error with caution.
“The Celts, their culture and religion, have been an interest of mine. Kincaid is an Irish name. I’ve done some research.”
“And?”
“The Spear of Lugh always flies true. The Sword of Nuada protects its bearer.
SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 31
The Dish represents the Round Table and makes men equal, and The Cup of the Dagda provides healing.” No need to divulge the inner truths about the Hallows. Not yet.
“Can you imagine what power a corrupt and evil man might have if he were to
possess all four?” Lucas asked softly.
“There’s plenty corruption as is,” Sara answered. “From terrorists to heads of business and government.”
“And that corruption would endure for eternity, multiplying itself.”
“So what does the manuscript say should be done?”
He studied her as though assessing how much he should tell her. And that
irritated her. It still seemed a little melodramatic to her that Fate hinged on an anonymous source, but if the Hallows really did exist, there was more than one way to save the world. The inner, hidden path of the Goddess was subtle, but stronger than the outward path of men. She leaned forward. “I risked my life for that document. I want to know what it says. All of what it says. Now.”
For what seemed like an impossible amount of time, he said nothing as he
continued to appraise her, his amber eyes penetrating hers. She forced herself to hold his gaze and not drop hers to that full sensual lower lip he was worrying with his very white teeth. Finally he nodded.
“It’s hard to know where to start.”
“The beginning would be good.”
“Are you familiar with the history of the Knights Templar?”
She stared at him. Like who wasn’t? There’d been enough books out about them recently. “Well, let’s see,” she said. “There were nine Frenchmen who made the trip to Jerusalem, supposedly to make the path for pilgrimages safer. Only for years, they never left the site of Solomon’s Temple nor did they increase their numbers. They did some excavating. When Acre fell, they escaped the area carrying
Sara ignored the look and led the way to the library, closing the door behind
them, but not locking it. She didn’t need to be giving this hot little fantasy of hers any more ideas. She pulled the envelope out from behind the book and handed it to him.
He sat down at a small desk and spread the papers in front of him and began
reading. Sara sat down on the sofa near the desk and watched him. He was as tense as a mountain cat ready to spring. The fingers of his large, strong hands flexed and stretched on the table as he read, reminding her of a big cat retracting its claws. He raised an eyebrow from time to time and on occasions, he frowned, but he didn’t look up.
It was nearly lunchtime when he finally gathered the documents and put them
carefully inside the envelope. He sat back and rubbed his eyes.
“Well?” Sara was about to burst from curiosity. He started and she wondered if he’d forgotten that she was there. She had hardly moved a muscle for nearly three hours and not spoken a word.
“It’s as I suspected,” he said. “The Sacred Hallows are in the United States. I have to find them.”
“Hallows?” she repeated, her mind running a rapid data search through Celtic
history. “Are you speaking of ancient Hallows of the Tuatha de Danann?”
Lucas looked surprised. “You’re familiar with them?”
How much to tell him? That the Tuatha de Danann were the people of the
Goddess? When she had told the second important man in her life, the one after the crook and before the adulterer, that she practiced the Old Ways of Brighid, he had called her a witch—not the good kind—and accused her of bewitching him. Blessed be. As if that’s the way the Goddess worked. He’d also tried to sully her reputation and nearly ruined her business. Best error with caution.
“The Celts, their culture and religion, have been an interest of mine. Kincaid is an Irish name. I’ve done some research.”
“And?”
“The Spear of Lugh always flies true. The Sword of Nuada protects its bearer.
SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 31
The Dish represents the Round Table and makes men equal, and The Cup of the Dagda provides healing.” No need to divulge the inner truths about the Hallows. Not yet.
“Can you imagine what power a corrupt and evil man might have if he were to
possess all four?” Lucas asked softly.
“There’s plenty corruption as is,” Sara answered. “From terrorists to heads of business and government.”
“And that corruption would endure for eternity, multiplying itself.”
“So what does the manuscript say should be done?”
He studied her as though assessing how much he should tell her. And that
irritated her. It still seemed a little melodramatic to her that Fate hinged on an anonymous source, but if the Hallows really did exist, there was more than one way to save the world. The inner, hidden path of the Goddess was subtle, but stronger than the outward path of men. She leaned forward. “I risked my life for that document. I want to know what it says. All of what it says. Now.”
For what seemed like an impossible amount of time, he said nothing as he
continued to appraise her, his amber eyes penetrating hers. She forced herself to hold his gaze and not drop hers to that full sensual lower lip he was worrying with his very white teeth. Finally he nodded.
“It’s hard to know where to start.”
“The beginning would be good.”
“Are you familiar with the history of the Knights Templar?”
She stared at him. Like who wasn’t? There’d been enough books out about them recently. “Well, let’s see,” she said. “There were nine Frenchmen who made the trip to Jerusalem, supposedly to make the path for pilgrimages safer. Only for years, they never left the site of Solomon’s Temple nor did they increase their numbers. They did some excavating. When Acre fell, they escaped the area carrying
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