Fall (Roam Series, Book Two)

by Kimberly Adams

  My words turned into a sobbing jumble, and I wiped my eyes.

  “I like seeing you cry,” he said, his voice snaking through me and only further upsetting my confidence. I held my stomach, trying to keep taking.

  “If you cooperate, and take us through safely, you can have me… for Laurel. I’ll go without a fight, as long as they are all safe.”

  His tone dropped to deep, angry growl. “If you think that I actually believe that he’ll let you go, you’re definitely out of your fucking mind.”

  I dropped to my knees, looking nervously at the stairway. How much time has passed? “Please… once you have me, you can kill me…”

  “I will,” he promised, tightening his fists at his sides.

  I moaned. “Just make it fast, please,” I begged, burying my face in my hands, unable to look at him any longer.

  I heard the doorknob from up the stairs, opening my eyes. Troy stared at me carefully, trying to determine if I was acting.

  “Cooperate, take you through the doors, give you Laurel, let them all leave… and I keep you? The prophecy is over when I kill you.”

  “Unless you choose to… keep me,” I suggested, lifting my eyes to his. “Alive. There is that option,” I said defensively. “I will do anything… that you ask of me.”

  His revolting sneer made the skin beneath my ears tighten, and nausea pooled in my stomach.

  He leaned into the bars. “How can I be sure you won’t cross me?”

  “West knows I’m down here, saying these things to you. He intends to cross you,” I explained, giving the stairs a nervous, sideways glance. “He plans to save me. He thinks that he can. But I know he can’t. Not with your whole army against him. Not if he’s mortal.”

  Troy scoffed in agreement. “He would die trying.”

  “My sister has to live,” I said brokenly, betrayal heavy in my words as I held my head to keep from falling apart. “Logan… has to live.”

  The side of his mouth curved into an amused smirk. “After all of this time… you still love my brother.” He shook his head, and at that moment, I knew that he believed me. “My orders will keep my army at bay when we pass through. If they see me harmed in any way, they will attack.”

  “You won’t be harmed,” I promised him. “You’ll be tied up until we get to the inclined plane. And I’ll walk right to you.”

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “The inclined plane. You figured it out.”

  I nodded. “West did.”

  At that moment, the basement door burst open, and West thundered down the stairs. He saw me, on the floor, in tears, and reached for me. “Roam-”

  “I agree,” Troy interrupted, his eyes unwavering as he stared into mine.

  “Go to hell, you fuck,” West snapped, sliding his arms under my shoulders and legs as he lifted me against him.

  Troy ignored him, his eyes burrowing into my soul. “And Roam…,” he called, grinning in that horrifying way that reminded me of the pool. “I will keep you.”

  West slammed the basement door to answer him. Logan was at my side in seconds. “Did he hurt you?” West demanded.

  “No, he’s just scary,” I cried, turning against West.

  His grip tightened on me for a long moment. “Let’s go.”

  West packed the Pilot with the duffel bags of ammunition and weapons, loading them into a military grade, padlocked trunk. Logan would drive Violet, Morgan, and Jason in his car.

  Troy walked to the Pilot with three guns pointed at him, allowing West and Logan to cuff both his hands and feet to steel-enforced cargo hooks that West had installed. The route that we planned avoided tolls and would take almost four hours.

  Once on the road, I turned around to look at Troy so often that I began to get motion sickness. Finally, West jerked his rearview mirror down to face the backseat so that I could see. “I know he’s unsettling. Just watch him like this.”

  I nodded, reaching for West’s hand.

  West kept a loaded pistol near the console within either of our grasps. Troy was gagged but hadn’t attempted to make a sound.

  His piercing eyes followed me constantly.

  Before we reached the border, West turned off at a gas station, Logan pulling up next to him in the Camry and rolling his window down. “Break?”

  “Let Jason drive. The numbers,” he gestured to his arm. Logan looked unclear for a passing second, and then reached for the door handle.

  “What about you?”

  “I can drive through it.”

  Lowering my eyes to my arm, I pushed my sleeve up to look at the coordinates for Madison, Ohio. They were about the change for Pennsylvania.

  As we pulled back on the road, I waited, watching West’s knuckles go completely white on the steering wheel as his change began. I brushed my fingers over his back, comforting him softly. Troy gave a guttural snarl from the backseat, and I turned, taking silent pleasure in the beads of sweat that erupted as the numbers changed for him.

  Mine began last. I wanted to accept them silently, showing Troy what I was capable of handling, but as the blaze of stabbing pain began, I cried out, trying to focus on my breathing as West firmly held my palm in his.

  After they changed, I lifted my eyes to the rearview mirror.

  Troy was smiling through the gag.

  We stopped at a gas station to use the restroom once we were in Pennsylvania. Nerves were getting the best of Morgan; I could tell that she was shaking as she reached for the handle on the single-stall restroom door. My heart pounded in my ears when I waited in the corridor for my turn, thinking about what we were about to do. The panic set in before I had time to trade places with Morgan.

  She caught me in the hallway. “Roam, you’re as white as a ghost. Look at me. Breathe.”

  “Morgan.” I looked down, concentrating on the multicolored tiles on the floor. “I can’t let anything happen to you, because of me, because of what I am.”

  “I chose to come here. Roam, things don’t happen. They just are. You made all the choices up until this moment. You’re in control.”

  Listening to her, I nodded, still focused the tips of my boots. I’m in control.

  My choices.

  The Johnstown Inclined Plane opened at ten o’clock. As we pulled into the small parking lot, I focused on the identical set of rails running parallel along the mountainside. An enclosed boxcar, a red one on each track, ran simultaneously up and down overlooking the Conemaugh River.

  Logan pulled into the parking spot next to ours. I watched him get out and walk to the ticket booth, and then climb onto the car.

  “What is he doing?”

  “He’s checking to see if we really need Troy to pass through.” West tipped his head to the backseat.

  Less than ten minutes later, West’s phone rang. I shoved the sleeve of my coat up, looking for the numbers.

  They remained.

  “He has to come,” West confirmed, closing the phone and ending Logan’s call with a soft snap.

  This is it.

  I held the handle on the Pilot, searching for courage.

  Closing my eyes, I followed a single, red ringlet on Eva’s newborn head in my mind, remembering the silken threads between my fingertips.

  “I’m going to take the gag off.”

  Before I could turn in my seat, West blocked me.

  “I’ll do it-”

  I shook my head, stopping him. “No, West. I’ll do it.”

  The same coldness from the night in the basement resurfaced at just the right moment, giving me the strength that I needed. He pulled away, recognizing the borderline madness in my eyes.

  Turning around in the seat, I reached for Troy. “When I take this off, I want you to remember everything that I said to you in the basement.”

  He blinked once.

  My fingers slipped twice as I pulled at his gag, and I finally yanked the ball of wet t-shirt material from his mouth. He cleared his throat, moving his jaw.

  “Do t
hey have automatic weapons? Guns?” I asked Troy sharply.

  West looked at me, obviously surprised by my question.

  Troy nodded once. “Yes. I’ve given them the same resources and knowledge that exists here. In preparation for this day.”

  “Fuck,” West growled, slamming his palms on the steering wheel. I knew then he’d wondered the same and had already tried to get that information from Troy. “I should have let you ask him the questions.”

  “He wouldn’t have answered me then. We have an understanding now.” I zipped my heavy coat, continuing to speak to Troy. “West will have a gun pointed at you. You will have your arm around me the entire time, once we’re through. If we are attacked, he will shoot you. And you will die, because you will be mortal. Clear?”

  He leered in my direction. “Can’t wait.”

  In broad daylight, in the middle of Johnstown, weapons of various sizes with assorted holders and harnesses were strapped to each of us from inside the Pilot. I looked around nervously, unable to fathom that no one paid any attention to what we were doing. West saw my disbelief, shaking his head.

  “No one is looking.”

  West removed Troy’s handcuffs, and held the gun pointed at him from inside his coat sleeve. Logan returned and bought out the ride, paying almost three hundred dollars for the round-trip fare.

  Troy cleared his throat, walking in front of West slowly. “We get on, we hit the halfway point, and we go. You return in the other boxcar.”

  I focused on the word you, tucking my coat around me.

  West nodded. “Go.”

  Troy stopped midway into the car, turning around. “I’m not going in without holding her.”

  Oh my God.

  I blinked rapidly, my fingers disjointing beneath my torturous pull. Breathing normally had been a problem for me my entire life, but nothing described the way my chest seized up. I felt like I was drowning all over again. I swayed, over-compensating and beginning to hyperventilate.

  West caught me, running his hands over and over my face. “Roam, I’m right here. I will not let anything happen to you. I will protect you. I love you.” I could see his enormous restraint, and I turned frantically to Logan, watching him quietly shove his gun into Troy’s side.

  “You’re strong, Cam,” he looked at me evenly. “You can do this.”

  Edging into the car, I brushed at a single, petrified tear as it slid down my cheek. Troy held his arms out, and I turned and backed against him.

  His touch sickened me, horrified me, and as though he knew the depths of my fear, he lowered his mouth to my ear.

  “You smell like your sister,” he murmured, and Jason caught Morgan’s clenched fists before she could swing at Troy.

  “Morgan, don’t,” I pleaded, cringing as Troy’s hands slid around my waist, tucking me tightly against him.

  West gritted his teeth, remaining at my side.

  “Let’s go,” Logan snapped, standing as close to my other side as possible.

  Jason, Morgan, Logan, Violet and West surrounded Troy and me, their weapons aimed from beneath coats. As we ascended the mountain and the half-way point approached, I began to sense the same weightless feeling that existed in the snowy fountain.

  The moment we crossed the halfway point, the world around us slowly evaporated, my frantic breath escaping in visible wisps from my open mouth.

  Troy’s grip on my waist tightened and left me gasping for air.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “I am your king. Hold your fire!”

  We came out on an icy platform along an arctic mountainside. Chaos erupted from every point. Above us, from decks protruding from the rocks, soldiers aimed machine guns, bows and arrows, and swords.

  I scraped at Troy’s hand, gasping. “I can’t breathe!”

  He loosened his grip, slightly.

  “Your majesty,” one guard called, assessing the group of us and aiming a heavy machine gun at West’s face. West lifted his own AK47 to Troy’s head.

  “No,” I cried, shaking my head against Troy’s chest. “Tell them not to hurt him!”

  “Be quiet,” he hissed in my ear, tightening his brutal grip once more. “My soldiers; behold, your queen has returned.”

  Troy gripped my shoulders, continuing to hold me as he shoved me forward.

  The roar began with a soldier spitting on the ground in my direction. I trembled, my ears throbbing at their collective bellows and ugly chants.

  “Whore! Treasonous slut!”

  “That’s not nice,” Logan called, sliding the charging handle back on his AK and aiming it at the soldier who spit at me. “Say you’re sorry.”

  “Logan, don’t,” I whispered, cringing as the soldier approached me. His face was marred with deep, scarred ravines.

  His long sword pointed at me, his eyes intimidating. “Shall I end her, your majesty?”

  Logan aimed.

  “No,” Troy hissed, tugging me back against him. “Take them all to the castle. No one is harmed. Leave them their weapons.”

  Relief drenched me in a sudden sweat. I moved ahead of Troy, careful not to look any of the soldiers in the eye.

  He was right. I am hated. They would kill me without question.

  We walked in silence along the snowy, curving path that wound its way around the mountain. I kept stealing sideways glances at West, and he kept his eyes on me at all times, reassuring. I lost my footing as we approached an ominous drawbridge, and Troy caught me before I slipped.

  “Walk, or I’ll drag you.”

  I glared at him, shivering as the frozen air took over my muscles. As we passed giant, steel gates, my toes grew numb.

  The inside of the castle mirrored my dream. Icicles that didn’t melt, diamond-like lighting, and elaborate costumes on the members of the court that rushed to welcome Troy and gape at the prisoners.

  I observed the people around us, noting the strange differences between the medieval atmosphere and the inhabitants of the castle. They wear make-up, have hair products, and modern footwear.

  Troy did this?

  “Take them to the throne room.”

  Troy’s orders sent people scrambling, but West stopped. “Before we go further, I want to see that Laurel is alive.”

  Troy raised his eyebrows his way. “And if you don’t?”

  “Well, then.” West raised his machine gun, and every weapon pointed in his direction. “It’s over for both of us.”

  Troy laughed, the sound rumbling in a bizarre trail throughout the icy corridors of the castle. “Very well. Bring Laurel in to join us.”

  Ushered into the throne room that I recognized from my dancing dream with West, I took inventory of the guards that assembled around us. Troy shoved me onto the throne, and I struggled for breath as weapons were aimed at West.

  “You will drop your weapons,” Troy shouted, taking the seat next to me. My jacket bunched under my neck, and I remembered the automatic pistol inside my thick coat.

  I tensed as members of Troy’s army unarmed West and Logan by force, while Jason, Morgan, and Violet handed over their guns.

  “My kingdom.” Troy gestured to cold, gray room around us. “Ravaged by a never-ending winter, cursed by dark magic. The curse will be broken with your queen’s death.”

  I tried to scramble from the cold, oversized stone chair, but he grabbed my upper arm, squeezing.

  “Be still,” he commanded me, and I shook in his grasp. He turned his attention back to his court. “Your queen, however, has struck up a bargain. Her life, in exchange for our prisoner’s life.” He smiled cruelly as his army began to cheer. “We shall send the rest of them back to where they came from. Their world will exist for a little longer…” He turned to me, his eyes darkening with lust. “While I reacquaint myself with my wife.”

  I shuddered, shivering convulsively. “I agreed,” I called, my voice breaking and childlike. “I agreed, so please don’t hurt them.”

  “Your majesty.” The scarred soldier from
the mountain approached, bowing before the throne. “We wish our sun back. End this curse. Kill her. Now.”

  Troy pulled me to stand beside him. I trembled as he turned me to him and tugged the zipper down on my coat, shoving his hand inside.

  West growled and started toward us, but guards held him back.

  Troy’s ice blue eyes locked with mine, and I felt his fingers on the Glock strapped to my side.

  In one movement, he pulled the gun from the holster, aimed it at the guard, and pulled the trigger.

  Morgan began screaming. Jason grabbed her, covering her mouth with his hand and turning her into his chest. Small clumps of bloodied matter littered the stone floor around the guard’s head.

  “Clean it up,” Troy shouted, ejecting the magazine and letting it smack the floor. He dropped the pistol to his side as several guards rushed forward to drag the dead man away. “If you disrespect me or your queen, you will pay the same price,” he warned his army.

  “Well,” Logan called. “I guess if you just keep killing your own guys, we’re fine with that.” I watched Violet’s eyes as they followed the man being dragged from the room.

  “Ah, my young brother,” Troy replied, drawing his lips into a grin. “You are on the wrong side of the room. Care to join us?”

  Logan’s eyes met mine. I stared at him, watching his mind work as it used to when we’d get into his mother’s cookie jar without her permission. “That depends. I’ll only settle for your seat.”

  Troy roared with laughter, tucking me against him. “Some things never change,” he called, sounding genuinely amused.

  I felt like I was dreaming as her cries echoed throughout the castle.

  That was the moment when I heard her.

  The crying, the pitiful wailing that tightened my throat and caught my breath, carried from the outer chamber. I tried to run toward it, but Troy caught my arm.

  At that moment, the doors opened, and two guards ushered a woman into the room.

  Laurel’s white-blond curls hung well below her waist, spiraling and disappearing into the folds of her pale, silver gown. Her light eyes were frightened as she looked around the room, gripping the wriggling bundle in her arms securely against her chest.