The demon flipped his wrist, sending Elizabeth skidding across the room. “She will be made an example of. Tomorrow at sunset, this wolf bitch will hang in my courtyard. And then, we shall be married.”
Struggling against the invisible force holding her immobile against the cold stone wall, Elizabeth spat at him. “Never. I will never marry you.”
“Yes you will, my sweet. By tomorrow night I will feast on that lovely flesh of yours, claiming you as my wife. I look forward to hearing you scream as I take you from behind and erase every last memory of that damned wolf.” His teeth gleamed in the firelight. A sinister grin curling his lips. “Until tomorrow, love.”
Rimmon pulled Beatrix into the hall and he door slammed shut. The force holding Elizabeth to the wall vanished. She tumbled forward and ran for the door. She pulled on the handle, desperate to follow them and free her friend, but it wouldn’t budge. Beatrix’s screams echoed through the air on the opposite side of her chamber door.
Elizabeth leaned her head against the door, sobbing. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Beatrix wasn’t to be captured. How could she get word to Christian and the rest of her uncle’s men about this complication?
The crushed bow drew her tear filled gaze. He only destroyed the bow…He only destroyed the bow! Elizabeth tossed the contents of the overturned chest, scattering them over the floor until she uncovered the second set of arrows. Surely Rimmon figured since he ruined the means, he didn’t need to destroy the arrows as well.
A grave mistake on his part.
Reaching under her bed, she pulled the smaller bow from its hiding spot. She took the bow and one arrow to the table where a quill and ink sat. Elizabeth removed the note penned by Christian and smoothed it open on the table top. She did a last skim through his words, devastated by the fact she would have to give them up. However, if it saved all of their lives it would be well worth it. She drafted a note warning her rescuers of the change in plans and blotted the ink dry.
She opened the shutters on her window, peering out into the darkness and whistled. The call she used had been taught to her by the King’s Knights, one to use only in times of peril. Tonight, she deemed, was definitely a time of peril. When the faint answering call reached her, Elizabeth gasped. They were close.
Turning from the window, she took the jar of powder Christian had sent her and sprinkled it over the feathers on the arrow. A pale green glow came to life around them. Elizabeth stabbed the arrow-head through the note. Nocking the arrow, she stood at the window and gave up a silent prayer her warning found its way into Christian’s hands.
Elizabeth stood stock still, hardly breathing while she waited for the sign. On the edge of the forest a flame came to life and was quickly doused. She knew then exactly what their position was. Exhaling, she let the arrow fly in their direction, the feathers illuminating the way to the ground. As soon as it landed, it was swallowed up by the darkness.
The only indication her message was received was a wolf howling in the darkness.
Thirty Five
“You are sure the note is from her?” Galahad stared up at the now darkened window from where the arrow was shot.
“It’s written by her and whoever shot it knew the signal.” Lance held the note up to his nose and inhaled the faintest scent of wild heather. “It’s definitely from her.”
“I wish I could be so sure.” His brother walked back toward their camp site. “We’ve come too far to have the demon play with your mind now.”
“Rimmon believes I’m dead. Why would he try and play with a dead man’s mind?”
Lance followed him as he looked over the arrow. It was one of the ones he packed for her --the same fletching he used when making them, as well as his own mark. Every craftsman had a signature they placed on a product; he was no different when he made his arrows. A small paw print with extended claws was tamped into the shaft of this arrow. No one would know but him.
“Gal, I swear this is from Beth. It even smells like her.”
His brother still looked skeptical. “Fine, then what does it say?” Galahad stretched out next to the fire. The other knights gathered around.
“Beatrix has been taken prisoner.” Lance frowned as he skimmed through the note. “She’s to be hung tomorrow at sundown. Rimmon plans to marry Lady Elizabeth after. There are a few other choice words, but I don’t think you need to hear them.”
Galahad nodded with a laugh. “Aye, sounds like it’s from her.”
“Great, now you believe me.” Lance stared into the fire. “Listen up, the game is about to change. I won’t let us lose even one life. The only ones who die tomorrow are the demons.”
As he laid out the plan to the others, grunts and grumbles of approval surrounded him. Lance was truly taken aback by the support these men gave him. They accepted him as one of their own even though he had only been with them for a few months. In that short time, he had made a name for himself without help from his father or brother. It was all him. He wasn’t riding on anyone else’s memory or legend.
Looking at all the faces around him, Lance couldn’t help but think, Rimmon has no idea what he’s in for.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Elizabeth wore the rug beneath her feet thin as pacing the room. She hadn’t seen or heard from Rimmon since he locked her in her chamber the night before. All the silence drove her mad. The only thing she heard was the mocking caw from a crow as it flew past her window.
She watched the bird as it landed on the window ledge. “If only I was as free as you are right now. Then mayhap I could stop him.”
The crow flapped its wings. It looked up and then back at her as if trying to tell her something. He flew out the window and cawed from somewhere above the open window. Curious, Elizabeth went to the window and leaned out. The bird called out again and she looked up.
Laughter bubbled from her lips. “Why did I not notice this before?”
In the fading light she saw her room was located next to a tangle of thick vines spanning the whole height of the castle wall. At this time of year the leaves where gone, but the strong sinewy vines remained. She pulled on one to make sure it was attached well enough, determining if it would hold her.
Ducking back inside, Elizabeth changed into the clothing Christian provided and smeared the Fae dust on her skin as he told her. She strapped the quiver over her shoulder and the bow on her back. Carefully braiding her fiery mane, she tucked it under the archer’s hood and secured it from coming loose. To top it all off, she donned a thick black wool cloak, pinning it closed with the wolf brooch Elaine had given her.
Dragging a weathered bench from the fireplace, she positioned it below the window and climbed on top. She leaned out of the window to gauge how much ledge ran from her window to the vines. The result, not much. Thankfully Christian had also thought to include a pair of archer’s boots to go with her disguise. If Elizabeth had to rely on wearing her thin slippers, she’d never be able to scale and climb the wall. Though, he probably didn’t think she would plan on doing so in the first place.
When will the man ever learn? Give her the means and she would take the opportunity.
Elizabeth pulled herself up onto the window ledge. With her back to the wall, she inched toward the vines. She climbed her way up the tangle. Near the top, she peeked to see where the men guarding the battlements were stationed. Luckily, their attention was focused on a commotion below in the courtyard. Using the distraction to her advantage, she easily slipped over the wall and hid in the tower’s shadow.
Keeping her face covered with her hood, Elizabeth stole a glance at the scene playing out in the courtyard. Rim had Beatrix standing on a stool with a noose around her neck. Her maid stood stock still, no tears, no pleading for her life. Her dress was stained with whatever foul substance she had been thrown on top of in the dungeon. The wolf’s eyes were bright, alert and resigned to her fate. She didn’t even look at the people gathered to watch her execution. Some of the onlookers jeered throwing rot
ten food at Beatrix. Through all of it, she remained as stoic as a statue.
A quiet gasp escaped Elizabeth’s lips. She couldn’t allow her friend to die for her. They would get out of there together. Her gaze scanned the crowd, searching for Arthur’s men. If they were there, they were experts at hiding in the open. It was probably better she couldn’t recognize them. Picking them out of the people below might expose them.
Emerging from her hiding spot she pulled an arrow from the quiver. She nocked the arrow. This shot could not miss its mark. She wouldn’t get a second chance. If the shot did miss, it wouldn’t matter. They’d both be dead.
She took a deep breath and focused on her target. The rope looked so small from this distance. Elizabeth had taken tough shots, although none ever had a life depending on it. She felt her whole body relax. All sound and movement faded into the background.
Rimmon began talking to the crowd to incite them into a blood-thirsty frenzy. His people ate it up. They surged toward the platform. The demon threw back his head, laughing, exposing a mouth full of serrated teeth. The crowd pulled back, clearly frightened. They had no idea their Lord was a demon. He raised a brow and demons in full armor surrounded the villagers to subdue them.
One of the minions grabbed a man garbed in tattered clothing. The human spun around, threw off his cloak and brandished a sword. It was Sir Gawain. Her heart sped up. All around the courtyard others did the same, revealing themselves as Knights of Camelot.
Rimmon snarled. He kicked the stool out from under Beatrix’s feet. Fighting broke out all around them. Villagers ducked and ran for safety. A few even made a break for the gates. More demons appeared out of thin air, blocking their way.
Complete mayhem exploded below, but Elizabeth kept her cool. She watched the rope holding her friend jerk tight. Counting to five, she let her arrow fly. It sliced through the fibers, Bea fell to the ground gasping for breath.
Rimmon looked up to see where the shot came from. At the same time Lance cut a path through the demons trying to block him. As he was about to attack, the bastard vanished reappearing behind him, a sword in hand ready to strike Lance down.
“Christian, behind you!” Elizabeth pulled another arrow, nocking it for another shot.
Hearing her warning, Lance whirled around, blocking Rim’s blow. He jumped back and circled the demon. “Aw, Rim. I love the welcome party you planned. It shows you really did miss me.”
“How are you still alive? I left you for dead in that cave.” Rimmon snarled.
“Yeah, funny thing, apparently I’m not that easy to kill.”
The demon swung his sword up and over toward Lance’s head. The blade crashed into Lance’s own sending shards of metal flying. Rim’s rage forced Lance to his knee. His arms shook trying to keep the demon’s blade from cutting into him.
Elizabeth took aim. She released it and watched the arrow hit Rim in the right eye. The demon dropped his sword, clutching the arrow. He pulled it from the now destroyed socket, blood and clear fluid from his eye streamed down over his cheek and neck.
A ball of fire formed in his hand. “You fucking little bitch!” Looking down at Lance, he smiled evilly. “Enjoy eternity without her.” He roared and threw it at Elizabeth.
The ball hit her in the chest. The stench of burning flesh filled Elizabeth’s nostrils. Scorching pain radiated out from where the fireball hit her. Looking down, she saw a gaping wound in her chest. Elizabeth stumbled backward. Hitting the lowest part of the battlement, she couldn’t grab onto anything and tumbled backward over the wall.
“Beth!” Lance was on his feet rushing at Rimmon. “You son of a bitch!” Before he was able to reach the demon, a blinding light surrounded him. Everything went silent.
Thirty Six
Cornwall, NY
The computer screen flickered and went dark. Jared tapped the side. What the hell now? It flared to life for a split second. A spark flew out of the back and it went dead completely. He threw the pen in his hand at it out of pure frustration and sat back. Looking up from the fried LCD, he realized he wasn’t the only one in the room.
“Problem, Copil?” Zephyr leaned against the door jamb holding a steaming mug.
Jared sighed. “Well, let’s see. I lost another monitor because there’s a short in this place and apparently no one can find it. Your daughter scares the hell out of me. If I do or say something she doesn’t like, the hormone cloud in her head tells her to dismember me and feed me to the dragons. Oh, and let’s not forget the elephant in the room --what the hell is going on with Lance? I’d really like some insight on when he’s getting back.”
His father in-law chuckled, stepping into the room. “Don’t let Alexandra frighten you. She doesn’t mean the things she says.”
“Really? Were you the one she threatened to geld if you even thought about having another child after this? I don’t know about you, Z, but I kinda like the boys where they are.”
Zephyr’s mood sobered. “Words to the wise, Copil, do not bring that up to the wolf when he returns.”
The Dark Order Prince frowned. “Why?”
“Trust me, Jared. There are things he has gone through during this time that have changed him.” He took a sip from his mug of herbal tea.
“Come on, Z. Don’t go all cryptic on me.” Jared rose and leaned on the desk. His hands flat against the mahogany surface. “What happened to him?”
“It is not my story to tell. If and when he is ready, he will tell you.” Zephyr pressed the heel of his right hand against his temple. The mug in his other hand fell to the hardwood floor and shattered.
“Z? You ok?” Jared stepped around the desk to help him.
Before his hand touched the elder vampire, Zephyr looked up, yellow eyes glowing. “What time is it?”
Jared stopped short and glanced at his watch. “It’s eleven forty-five.”
“The date. What’s the date?” He grabbed his temple again, wincing in pain.
“December twentieth.” Jared put his hand on Zephyr’s shoulder. “Why? What’s going on, Z?”
Zephyr straightened, all trace of pain gone from his face. Blue smoke swirled around his right hand and extended. When it cleared, a sword appeared in its place. “Keep everyone inside especially Alex.” He pushed past Jared and headed for the sliding glass doors leading to the stone patio.
“I can do that, but what’s coming, Z?”
“Someone you won’t recognize.” Zephyr tossed over his shoulder as he stepped out into the darkness.
The sliding glass door slammed shut and locked. Jared ran to it and tried to pull it open. It was no use. His mentor wanted them inside and that’s where they would stay.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Holding his sword ready in front of him, Zephyr surveyed the lawn cloaked in darkness. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A storm brewed and he knew exactly where it would hit. He tightened his grip on the hilt and narrowed his eyes.
A shimmer on his left caught his eye, but he didn’t look at it. What came definitely wouldn’t shimmer. This would be a full on nuclear explosion.
“Semiramis, I don’t think you want to be here right now. The wolf is not going to be appreciative when he arrives.” His gaze continually drifted over the landscape never settling for too long in one spot. He had to be on his game or Lance might actually kill him.
“Surely you’re wrong. I gave him everything while he was there. Christian did not have to suffer for wanting anything the whole time he in Camelot. Why wouldn’t he be appreciative?” She glided forward and slipped in front of the vampire.
“Because, when he needed you most you didn’t come and help him.”
“What? He never called for me?” Her brow drew together.
“Yes he did. You were off who the hell knows where, too busy to hear him. I only knew what happened after they rescued him.” Zephyr pushed past her. “Sam, go inside,” he hissed at her through gritted teeth.
“No.” She twisted her hand and Zephyr spu
n around to face her. “You tell me what happened. I never would have let harm come to him especially after breaking the rules for him. He means as much to me as my own son.”
Zephyr smirked. “You have a funny way of showing how you care.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Lightning flashed behind him. Zephyr had enough time to turn around and block the blade aimed at his head. One second more debating with Semiramis, and he would have lost his life.
“Inside, now!”
“Fine!” The Goddess vanished, leaving him to defend himself and talk down the wolf.
The man on the other end of the blade trying to cleave him in two emanated so much pain it nearly knocked Zephyr off his feet. He shoved Lance back. The wolf landed in a crouch, the sword in his hands wove menacingly. He was blind to his surroundings. He still thought he faced Zephyr’s brother.
Green Armor formed over Zephyr’s clothes. He circled the wolf. “Lance, put down the weapon. You’re home.”
Lance curled his lip. “The only way you’re getting this blade out of my hand is to pry it from my dead body, Rim.”
“Pup, I’m not Rimmon. I’m Zephyr.” The tip of Zephyr’s blade dipped to show Lance he was not the aggressor.
“Bullshit!” Lance sprang at the vampire.
Their swords clashed. Zephyr didn’t want to hurt the wolf. He knew the pain residing in Lance. It was the same pain he’d felt many times during his long life. He let the wolf hack away, blocking each strike as best he could. Lance would exhaust himself before any real damage was done. He needed this. He needed to let the pain and anger go.
“Lance? Is that you?” Alex stood on the patio, her hand protectively touching her baby bump.
Distracted by his daughter’s voice, Zephyr turned his head. “Draguta, get back--”
Beyond Time: A Dark Order of the Dragon Novel (The Dark Order of the Dragon Book 2) Page 26
