He glared at Caitlin. "So that's it? The whole story?"
"There's nothing more to tell," Tavi said aggressively. "It's over. Be done with it."
Jonas got to his feet, using his good arm to pull Verity up beside him. "Not a bad idea," he said to Tavi. "We're done with it, all right. Congratulations, Caitlin. Tonight's little drama had everything a Renaissance scheme needed—lies, deception, the betrayal of a friend, a desire for revenge, and the intent to kill. You would have done very well four hundred years ago. But Verity doesn't belong in that world. We're getting out of here. Go upstairs and pack, Verity."
"Jonas, it's nearly two in the morning."
"We'll find a motel somewhere along the way."
"But, Jonas..."
"If we don't find one we can drive on home. It's not that far."
"But, Jonas..."
He looked at her. "We're leaving, Verity," he said quietly.
She threw up her hands and surrendered. Without a word, she stalked out of the room.
No one said a word as they waited for Verity to return. When she came back downstairs with two suitcases and the peacock-blue costume, Jonas silently took her arm and led her outside to the car.
He put her into the passenger seat. His arm hurt but he figured he could drive.
It was still raining as they drove away from the ugly house on the cliffs.
Half an hour later they found a motel that was still open. Verity fell asleep almost immediately, entangled in the reassuring warmth of Jonas's hard body. Jonas was not far behind her. The exhaustion that claimed them both went deep.
Verity awakened first, her eyes opening slowly to a room full of watery sunlight. The storm had passed.
She yawned and stretched and decided she was almost back to normal. She felt Jonas stir beside her and she propped herself on one elbow to look down at him.
"How's the arm?" she asked first.
"Hurts. But I'll live." He smiled sleepily, one hand straying under the covers to find her bare thigh.
"Providing I get enough cosseting and devoted attention, that is."
Verity ignored that. She had other things on her mind. "Jonas," she said very seriously, "Kincaid was a real expert with that rapier, wasn't he?"
"He was good."
"When you selected the metallic-colored ribbon from the bunch of tendrils around me in that corridor, you were deliberately picking up the one that would allow you to tap in to the skills of the guy who had originally owned the rapier, weren't you?"
"I was desperate. I knew I wasn't going to be able to dodge Kincaid much longer and I'm no fencer, Verity.
Help didn't seem to be arriving very quickly."
"And I couldn't get at the gun," she concluded unhappily. "So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment. You took a terrible risk, Jonas."
"I had you there to help me," he pointed out gently. "I'm a lot stronger with you around. You know that, don't you? I didn't get swamped with that other man's emotions when I touched the ribbon. I was still aware of who I was and what I was doing. I knew damn well I was dealing with Kincaid, not some four-hundred-year-old ghost."
"Maybe the need to survive is stronger than any other force, past or present. You were fighting for your life, Jonas. That's a very powerful incentive to stay alert to present circumstances." Verity shook her head in rueful wonder. "Thank heavens the original owner of that rapier was a better fencer than Kincaid."
Jonas considered that. "'Better' isn't quite the word for it. In terms of actual skill, he and Kincaid were probably on about the same level. But there were two major differences that gave me the advantage."
"Which were?"
"The first difference is that the style of fencing has changed through the years. The guy who used that rapier four hundred years ago had been trained in a different technique than the one Kincaid used. Still, that might not have mattered too much in the long run. The handicap was mutual, so to speak. Kincaid couldn't predict what I was going to do and I couldn't predict his movements."
"So what was the second difference?" Verity persisted.
Jonas looked at her for a long moment before he said calmly, "The second difference was that Kincaid's fencing was of the modern variety in another crucial aspect. He had never been in a real duel. People don't fight real rapier duels in this day and age. I think he has very probably killed a couple of people, but he didn't do it while trying to dodge an untipped rapier. Facing a naked blade makes a big difference, believe me. You don't take the kind of chances you would take in a regular fencing match. At least a modern man wouldn't."
Verity swallowed as she realized what he was saying. "And the man who had used your blade had fought for real?"
Jonas sighed and leaned back on the pillows, his hands clasped behind his head. "Yeah. He knew what it was like to fight for his life with an untipped rapier. He knew how to take chances. I guess you could say I had the ultimate advantage."
Verity shuddered."Whenever I think about it, I'm going to get chills."
"Then don't think about it," Jonas suggested pragmatically. "You know, I've been doing some thinking, myself."
"About what?" Her heart lifted. Had he been thinking about their relationship? she wondered.
"About the fact that I definitely am stronger around you. Your presence is changing things, Verity."
Excitement laced his words now. "Do you realize I was able to use that ribbon of skill tonight without losing myself in the process? I've never been able to do that before. I stayed alert to my real time situation while I tapped in to something that was four hundred years old. I've never had that kind of freedom with my talent. The last time I tried it, I was swamped with another man's emotions and awareness. When I nearly killed that lab tech five years ago, I actually thought I was some character named Giovanni and I thought the tech was a Renaissance era assassin. But tonight I knew who I was and I knew who Kincaid was. It was an incredible feeling, using that ribbon without losing my sense of self-awareness. I wonder if..."
"Don't even think about conducting any more tests such as that one," Verity said with a shudder.
"Jonas, we don't know what we're playing with. Your talent is extremely dangerous. I know something awful would have happened if you'd used that blade to kill Kincaid tonight. I was certain the violence of Kincaid's death would have allowed everything that I was trying to control in that psychic corridor to break free and flood you. We don't know what would have happened then."