EmbroideredFantasies

by N. J. Walters

  “Don’t make me have to come get you, bitch. Come here and it will go easier for you.” Michael was working himself into a rage. She recognized all the signs.

  A loud crash came from the left. Michael swore. The huge horse he was riding plunged over a four-foot bush. Michael was hanging on for dear life, his face bloody from the slashes of branches.

  Good. He might be on horseback, but he wasn’t having any easier a time of it than she was. Roxanne studied the area around her and went right. A shout rose behind her and she knew he’d seen her. She needed a place to hide. She couldn’t keep running forever.

  Roxanne lost all sense of time and direction as she ran. Her only thought was to stay ahead of Michael and remain alive. She didn’t dare think about Radnor and Sednar. She could only pray they were safe. They were both deadly with a sword. She’d watched them practice briefly. Even when they were only sparring, there was a sense of lethal intent about them that had made her shiver. Now it reassured her.

  The woods thinned and she stumbled into a small glade. She glanced both ways before racing forward. She needed to find shelter and that way led to the base of the mountain. Maybe she could find a cave or someplace she could hide until Michael either gave up or got lost.

  She ignored the fact that she was totally lost as well. Radnor and Sednar would come for her. The pounding of hooves got stronger as she tripped on a rock and fell. She put out her hands to catch herself but didn’t quite make it. Palms skidding, she landed facedown on the ground.

  She dug her fingers into the ground and pushed herself up.

  “I’ve got you now.”

  Roxanne jerked her head around, appalled to see Michael only a few yards away. She dug her toes into the ground and scrambled up. Like a drunk, she staggered but kept going. The edge of the woods was only a few yards away. If she could make it, she could lose him again.

  The horse bumped her shoulder, spinning her around and sending her crashing to the ground. Her muscles were like jelly. She didn’t have enough strength left to keep herself upright. The dirt rushed up to meet her.

  A jolting pain shot down her arm and leg. Her hip ached. Ignoring it, she pushed herself into a sitting position. She needed to get up. She needed to run.

  Michael dismounted from his horse and strode toward her, an expression of triumph on his face. “You didn’t really think you could get away from me, did you?” His tone was the one he used just before he beat her. He talked to her in that condescending voice she hated, as if she were a wayward child who’d done something wrong and needed to be punished.

  “Stay away from me.” She tried to stand, but her legs would no longer cooperate. Not to be defeated, she started to crawl. Her hand closed around a rock. She gripped it tight. It was a weapon. She’d use it to bash his head in if she had to.

  It had come down to this. Him or her. Only one of them was leaving this clearing alive.

  Michael was reaching for the buckle on his belt. “You know you brought this on yourself. You have no one else to blame.”

  She’d heard that excuse, that justification a hundred times before. She tightened her hold on the rock and glared at him as she rolled up onto her knees. Her muscles quivered, but held. “I blame you, you weak sonofabitch.”

  His icy blue eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve forgotten how to speak to me.” His tone grew softer, almost caressing. “I can remedy that. If not me, then certainly the Luther brothers can. Once they kill your lovers, they’ll find us and take us back to their castle. Once I’m done with you, they can have you.” He pulled the leather of his belt through the loops of his jeans. It made a heavy swishing sound that she often heard in her nightmares.

  Her stomach roiled and threatened to revolt. She swallowed hard, barely managing to keep down the meager amount she’d eaten earlier today. “What then? You’re stuck here.” She pushed herself to her knees and then to her feet. She swayed but didn’t fall.

  Michael shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. If what I’ve heard is true, that godforsaken tapestry has to appear. Since it brought me here, it can take me back.”

  She shook her head, not truly surprised. Her ex was nothing if not single-minded. Everything had to go his way, in his worldview. He moved closer. Taking his time now. Almost taunting her with his nearness.

  “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time, Roxy. I barely got started in L.A. but I’m going to finish it now. I can do what I want to you here with no consequences.” He doubled the leather in his hand. “You’ll simply end up another missing person on the back of a milk carton. And there’ll be not one shred of evidence to connect me.”

  She tightened her grip on the rock and waited. She locked the muscles in her legs to keep from crumpling to the ground. Dirt and perspiration covered her body and clothing. Exhaustion swamped her, but she wouldn’t give up.

  She had too much to live for.

  He raised his belt.

  A battle cry ripped through the air. Two huge black horses crashed through the woods and into the clearing. Sednar and Radnor rode like demons. One with their horses, they were like two of the horsemen of the apocalypse as they closed the distance between themselves and Michael. Each held a sword high above his head. They were no longer gleaming but stained with the blood of their enemies.

  Michael swore and made a grab for her. She’d been expecting it. She threw the rock at him, clipping him in the temple. He reeled back, blood dripping down his face. She experienced a brief moment of triumph, but he recovered quickly and lunged in her direction. She dropped to the ground, rolling as fast as she could away from him.

  As if in slow motion, she could see the heavily shod hooves of the horses tearing up the ground. Their flanks covered in sweat, the muscles rippling beneath their silky black coats, their manes flying in the breeze.

  Sednar and Radnor both wore masks of death and destruction. Both were peppered with blood. Theirs or their enemies, she didn’t know. As a unit, they split, one going to the left of Michael, the other to the right.

  Michael suddenly seemed to realize just how much peril he was in. These weren’t men he could bargain with or manipulate. They were warriors and they were out for blood. His.

  It unfolded like something from an action movie. Only it was terrifyingly real. Michael turned and ran. Neither Radnor nor Sednar slowed their horses. They both leaned inward, Michael in their sights.

  Roxanne couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Two heavy swords swung at the same time, one going high, the other low. Thick blades cut through skin and bone. Blood flew like water droplets in a rainstorm. Michael cried out, but the scream was short-lived as his head separated from his body and dropped to the ground. It rolled, landing a few yards from her. Sightless blue eyes stared up from the dirt.

  She rolled away from the gruesome sight and vomited.

  A male voice swore and a heavy hand dropped on her shoulder. Roxanne cringed, not wanting them to see her like this. The hand fell away. She used her palm to wipe her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she turned around, being careful to keep her gaze away from the bloody remains of her dead ex-husband.

  As cruel as he was, she still felt sorry for him, even though he’d brought this on himself. He’d had a new start after getting out of prison but had chosen the path of destruction instead.

  Radnor stood several feet away, his sword lowered by his side. His clothing, chest, arms and face were spattered with blood. His eyes were blank and emotionless. This was her fault. They’d been forced to kill for her.

  She swallowed hard, unable to look away. Sednar crouched down in front of her, blocking her view of Radnor. He was covered in blood as well. His eyes weren’t blank, but bleak. She could see the pain in them and shivered. This wouldn’t have happened if she’d never come here.

  They’d killed to keep her, to protect her. Their dark fate as Craddocks had been fulfilled because of her. She feared that’s how everyone would see it.

  Her visions of having a life here crumbled before her ver
y eyes. They wouldn’t want her now. Not after this. Everything Radnor and Sednar had struggled to build these past six years was now tainted by the blood of the three men they’d been forced to kill.

  “Roxanne.” Sednar’s tone was low and even as he cupped her chin in his hand. “Can you stand?”

  She licked her lips, hating the sour taste in her mouth. “I’m not sure.”

  Radnor swore. Her gaze flew to his as he sheathed his sword in one smooth motion and strode toward her. Shouldering Sednar aside, he leaned down and scooped her off the ground.

  Tears pricked her eyes as a sense of safety enveloped her. But it wasn’t real. She couldn’t count on it. Not any longer. Not after what had just happened. What would the people of their keep think? She’d brought death and destruction to their door once again.

  A thought occurred to her. “You won’t get in trouble over this, will you?” She had visions of some kind of court proceedings. Maybe they’d lose their land. She huddled closer to Radnor as he swung up on the back of Xander.

  “It is not your concern.” Radnor’s clipped words were like a slap in the face. It wasn’t her business because she wasn’t going to be here. The message was loud and clear.

  Feeling more miserable than she had in her entire life, Roxanne endured the long, silent ride back to Craddock Keep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hours later, Radnor paced the hall outside his room, a killing rage still upon him. The Luther brothers and Michael Talbot had ruined everything. If they were still alive, he’d kill them again on that premise alone. The look of horror in Roxanne’s eyes, the way she’d cringed away from his touch and thrown up in the field, haunted him.

  He wasn’t sorry he’d killed the bastard. If any man had needed killing, it was Talbot. He only wished Roxanne hadn’t had to witness it. He and Sednar had fought side-by-side so many times, they hadn’t even had to think about what to do, had simply reacted. When they’d seen Roxanne’s ex-husband about to hit her, there had been no hesitation. That the other man had run instead of fighting was his choice. He’d died as he lived—as a coward.

  Radnor wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it. He’d done what needed to be done. What any warrior worthy of the name would have. He’d protected his woman.

  Only she wasn’t his. Not any longer. Maybe she’d never been his. Maybe they’d never had a chance at her staying. His tainted Craddock blood ran too thick in his veins. Even she, who was from another world, could see it, feel it.

  He looked down at his hands. They were clean now, as was the rest of him. But the stains of battle remained, hidden deep, a permanent marker on his soul.

  He glanced toward the door. Roxanne was sleeping, had been for several hours. He curled his hands into fists at his sides. She’d been exhausted to the point of sickness. Michael had run her into the ground. Still, she hadn’t given up. She’d faced him with nothing more than a rock in her hand.

  Radnor unclenched his fist and rubbed his palm across his sternum. His head jerked up as Darrina left the room. She left the door partially open. He moved close enough to peer in. Roxanne was covered in thick furs, sound asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly. Sleep was the best healer.

  “She is well, all things considered.” Darrina hefted a bucket with medical supplies in her arms. “I cleaned her up and tended to all her cuts and bruises.”

  “Thank you, Darrina.” Radnor didn’t spare the older woman a glance, his gaze locked on the woman sleeping in his bed.

  He sensed the older woman’s hesitation and reluctantly pulled his eyes from Roxanne. “Was there something else?”

  She shook her head and started to leave, but stopped. “Will she stay?”

  There was no longer any doubt in Radnor’s mind as to the answer to that question. “No. Not after this afternoon. She’d been through too much, seen too much bloodshed. This place holds nothing but bad memories for her.”

  The older woman frowned. “It holds much the same for you and Lord Sednar, yet you’ve managed to make a life here.”

  Radnor straightened, giving Darrina his full attention. This was the first time anyone here had ever acknowledged that he and his brother were trying to overcome their past and make a fresh start.

  Darrina’s hands tightened around the bucket she was holding. “Maybe it’s not my place to say anything, but the lady got me to thinking about things.” She shifted the weight in her arms to her other side. “Anyway, perhaps she’d be able to make a new beginning too. If you’d ask her.”

  Having said her piece, Darrina hurried down the hall, her footsteps ringing on the stairs.

  “Do you think she’s right?”

  Radnor turned to his brother who came up behind him. “You heard everything?”

  Sednar nodded.

  “What do you think?”

  Sednar hesitated and his shoulders slumped. He walked to the door and eased it open. “I think there are too many memories for her here. Too many of them bad. She can go back to her world with no fear and start again.”

  Walking to his brother’s side, Radnor stared at the woman who’d stolen his heart. He pushed the door open. His feet made no sound as he went to the bedside and stared down at her. She was so precious to him. She was everything he’d ever wanted, ever dreamed of having. He’d had her, if only for a few short days.

  “We have to give her up. We have to let her go.”

  Sednar came up beside him, his voice a frantic whisper. “We can’t. We love her. At least, I do.”

  Radnor knew in his heart that his brother was wrong. “It’s because we love her that we have to.” He knew the pain his brother felt. It was a tearing at his gut that would never go away. “We had her for a short time. She showed us how good life could be. What happiness is. How can we ask her to stay here with our hands stained in so much blood? She’s already been through so much violence. You saw how she cringed from my touch at first. It was only when she couldn’t stand, she let me touch her. There was no other way for her to get home.”

  “There has to be something we can do.” Desperation tinged Sednar’s words.

  Shaking his head, Radnor turned his back on Roxanne. “Can you ask her to stay here in a strange, violent land, in a keep where the people fear the lords and violence is everywhere? I can’t.” He stiffened his resolve. “I won’t. Not when she can go back to her own world and be safe. She can begin a new life and this will fade to nothing but a bad dream.” He strode from the room, unable to stay any longer.

  Sednar watched his brother leave, his heart heavy. He leaned down and gently caressed Roxanne’s pale cheek. “I love you. Radnor does too.” Sighing, he straightened. “He’s right. It would be selfish of us to ask you to stay after everything. I’m glad we killed those bastards though. You will have nothing to fear when you return home. That will at least give me some comfort.”

  He turned on his heel and strode from the room, oblivious to the lone tear that rolled down Roxanne’s cheek.

  The moment the door closed behind Sednar, a sob broke from Roxanne’s chest. She ached from head to toe, her body battered and bruised from her desperate race through the forest. But the pain in her heart was the worst.

  These men loved her. They’d pleasured her, protected her, killed for her. And they were ready to let her go. Not because they didn’t want her, but because they did. Had she ever even thought a love could be so selfless? No. She hadn’t thought it possible. Thought it to be nothing more than a fairytale perpetrated by romance books and movies.

  But it was real. These men were real. Her love for them was real.

  The question was, what was she going to do about it?

  She rolled over in bed, whimpering as every muscle in her body protested. Her legs were stiff and sore. Her arms were no better. Both had scratches and bruises, but they would heal with time. Would she ever recover if she left here? Would her heart eventually heal?

  The shutters were closed in the window, blocking out all light. A fire crackle
d in the fireplace and soft furs covered her. The scent of Radnor and Sednar rose up from the sheets when she moved, surrounding her in their essence.

  Exhaustion took her under before she could make any decisions. She was vaguely aware when two large male bodies climbed into bed beside her. She didn’t fully wake but snuggled closer to their warmth. Relaxed and secure, she drifted back to sleep.

  Hours later, she woke. Her eyes popped open and she sat up in bed, moving slowly so she didn’t jostle either Sednar or Radnor. She was sandwiched between them. Both of them were still wearing their pants and lying on top of the covers. Neither of them was touching her.

  There was a low hum in the air, almost electric. Roxanne squirmed out from between the covers, careful not to disturb either one of them, and inched her way to the end of the bed before climbing off. She cocked her ear to one side. It was coming from outside. She felt compelled to follow it. Only problem was, she was totally naked.

  Her bubblegum pink uniform lay across the back of one of the chairs. Her underwear was there too, but she ignored it. There was no way she could manage to pull a bra and panties on. Not with how stiff and sore she was.

  She scooped up the dress and tugged it on, biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning as every muscle protested. It was amazing how strange the synthetic fabric felt against her skin after only a few days. She zipped the front of the dress shut and headed for the door.

  Opening it a crack, she peered into the hallway. All was quiet. She eased out of the room, closing the door behind her. The chill from the stone floor seeped into the bottoms of her feet. She wished she’d pulled on the leather boots Radnor had given her but that would have meant bending over. There was no way she could accomplish that without a lot of pain. She didn’t bother to go back, but kept on walking.