Entangled: A Novel of Romantic Fantasy (Wanderlust Academy Book 1)

by Lori Wilde

  I heard Troy sigh.

  “But please, you all do be careful. Sometimes the thing we seek can be more painful than the thing we wished rid of. Nothing in life is without cost.”

  Confucius had nothing on this guy, I thought, bringing the goblet to my lips. Plugging my nose with one hand, I tipped back the amber liquid with the other. It tasted worse than pig’s blood. Just a hunch. I swallowed quickly to keep from gagging it back up. My face scrunched in a grimace, I handed him the cup. “That’s it then?”

  “That is it.”

  Now it was my turn to be skeptical. Aside from a sour stomach, I didn’t really feel any different.

  Still, Troy handed the man money for what had to be the most expensive four-ounce beverage ever purchased, then took me back to his place. We drove home the way we’d come, in silence.

  Back at Troy’s cottage, I flipped absently through a magazine. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that guy was a total quack,” I said, closing the magazine and tossing it on the table. “It’s been hours since I drank that stuff, and I don’t feel anything.” I wasn’t sure which was worse. That he’d been a fraud, or that Troy had paid so much money for me to see a fraud.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” That was all he said.

  Later that evening, I insisted on sitting outside to watch the stars before going to bed. Snuggled against Troy’s side, I soaked up his warmth as my eyelids grew heavy. The last thing I remember was a turquoise streak lighting up the night sky, and Darcy whispering my name.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  My breath caught in my throat. “Darcy?” I tried to move, but my body was chained to the floor in the center of a large round room. I yanked my arms and legs, twisting my body to break free, but the chains just rattled and clanged against the ground. “Darcy, help me,” I cried out. “You have to help me.”

  Darcy moved from the shadows to the center of the room and knelt down next to me. “That is exactly what I endeavor to do, my love.” There was a sad look in his eyes, before he rose and gestured to someone on the other side of the room.

  A man walked forward, cloaked in a long cape and a hood that shielded his face, and in his hand was a long spear. My eyes widened. “What is that for? Darcy, what’s happening here?” Chains rattled and strained taut as I thrashed wildly.

  “Do stay calm,” Darcy cooed. “It will take but a moment to drive away the darkness.”

  “Darkness. What darkness?”

  Then I heard him speak to the man. “Are you certain this will work?” he asked him.

  The man with the weapon answered. “The bloodletting is the only way. We must drive out the demons seeking to overtake her. It is the only way to keep her in this world.” He walked slowly toward me, his spear in hand.

  “Oh my God, Darcy, please! You can’t let him do this.”

  I was about to be skewered to the damn floor and drained of my blood, in a ritual that was sure to end my life. Panic nearly swallowed me. “I am begging you,” I cried, “you have to stop this. If I die, you still lose me.” I kicked my legs futilely, my voice growing hoarse and strained. “It’s not going to get you what you want, Darcy. I can never stay here.”

  He stayed the man’s hand, then crouched at my side. Forlorn, he shook his head. “Not as you now are. But I can fix you, my love, keep you from the one who hunts me.” His chilled hand stroked my cheek, and I turned away as if burned by his vile touch.

  “You are not yourself, and this is the only way to rid you of the demons possessing you. The darkness that keeps you from my life.”

  “It’s not darkness,” I shouted. “I don’t love you. Not anymore. I love someone else.”

  He stared at me hard, his icy gaze turning razor sharp. Then without another word to me, he motioned to the man with the knife. “Begin. The sooner we commence, the sooner she will be mine.”

  The man starting chanting phrases in a foreign language, Latin perhaps, as he circled around me slowly, occasionally pausing to bring the blade to his forehead.

  Sweat slid down my neck, soaking my back, despite the frigid temperature. I thrashed and squirmed as tears welled in my eyes. Then my body stilled, exhausted and drained of all strength. Whatever this crazy ritual was, perhaps it really was the end. Grace always said Darcy would bring about my death. My life had amounted to this, an impossible nightmare coming true. My eyes shut tight, I couldn’t look at him; I could only brace myself for the agony that was coming. This would not be a quick death. It would be long and painful and forever.

  What had the old man said...something about death...about it not being forever. I closed my eyes and forced words from my throat. “Please. I just need a little more time,” I said. “Then I’ll be ready to stay with you, Darcy.” I nearly vomited from the words. But I had to stall. I needed time to think. I pulled in short panicked breaths.

  Once more he postponed my death, motioning for the man to remain in place. “You are caught between worlds, Nora; I must set you free.”

  “I know,” I whispered the lies. “Just give me a moment to prepare. Then I promise, I will be yours.” How had this happened? Was it the stuff the old man made me drink? It was supposed to end my connection to him, not my life. My mind reeled as I strained to remember what the old man had said. Something about not waking me. And also...something about healing injures from the astral plane. Is that what this was? And something else…scurvy grass, that was it, used to conjure change. He said focus on what I wanted, and what I wanted was to get the hell out of this place. Now. I clenched my fists then released them, willing myself to concentrate and take three deep breaths. As the third left my lungs, I heard voices in the distance. But not Darcy or the man...they were voices I knew well. I leaned into the sound of them, feeling myself loosening from Darcy’s hold. Trembling, I tried to pull free, feeling the weight of the chains give way. But it was too late. The point of the blade was directly above me. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to hear my own screams. There was a breath. A few words in a foreign tongue. Then silence.

  My body bounced and jolted in a rhythm. It took a while for my eyes to adjust when they cracked open, but when they did, I found myself in Troy’s arms. He was at the door to Grace’s office.

  Why was he carrying me, and why were we here? I struggled to ask him, but the words were too hard to get out. Like my vocal cords had been disconnected. It wasn’t until I tried to lift my head and move my arm that I realized the rest of me was immobile too. I couldn’t move. A shot of panic coursed through me. It was like being awake in a dream, only I knew this time I wasn’t really sleeping. At least no one was trying to kill me.

  Grace was at her desk. It was dark outside. I had no idea what time it was but judging by her attire, I’d guess pretty late. She sat at her desk in silk pajamas, her glasses perched on her nose as she stared into the soft light of her monitor.

  Tingles traced all across my skin. And the light moved in technicolor swirls.

  Her eyes lifted as Troy burst in with me in his arms. And her mouth slowly drifted open.

  “What the hell did he do to her? She’s been calling out for that guy Darcy ever since we left.”

  I looked up at him as he propped me up in the chair across from Grace. She took off her glasses and frowned. It made me want to laugh. But I didn’t. I’m not sure I could have. In the distance, I could still hear Darcy calling my name. I won’t go back there again. I can’t.

  “Look at her,” Troy’s voice escalated. He waved his hand in front of my face, creating a dazzling display of light trails. “She’s like a zombie or something.”

  “Calm down. I’m sure the serum will wear off.” Grace frowned as she studied my face.

  Her fingers gently pulled down the skin under each of my eyes. What is she looking for? And why can’t I move?

  “When? Before or after she loses her mind?” he said tersely.

  “You know the methods used in treating these cases are unorthodox. That is why they work,” Grace said, stepping back.


  “You call this working? The crazy old man drugged her with something that set a monster loose in her mind. No one knows what will happen. Actually, we do know. We know exactly what could happen.”

  “I’m not condoning his methods, but if you had come to me first—”

  “So is that your plan too? Drug everyone into forgetting their past?” he scoffed. “As if that’s the solution to our problems.” He leaned in. “It didn’t work on me. It didn’t work on Celeste. It’s not going to work on her.”

  Grace didn’t respond but fixed her gaze on the far side of the room for a moment. Then she folded her hands and laid them on the desk in front of her. “Obviously, you know that’s not entirely true, or you would still be plagued by the same nightmares.”

  “Bringing her here was supposed to put an end to my torment. Not add to it.”

  He’s so angry. Why is he so angry? And what were they arguing about?

  “So is this about you, or about her?” she asked patiently.

  I wanted to interject. Using all my strength I tried to lift my arm, even move my head. Something, anything to let them know I was okay and that I could hear them. Impossible. I was frozen.

  Troy snorted. “Don’t use your reverse psychology tactics on me, Grace. I’m not your patient anymore.”

  She exhaled a sigh. “Take Nora home. There’s nothing more I can do for her tonight. I am sorry the serum isn’t working as intended, but if you had consulted with me before taking her to see the Shaman, this could have been different. I could have gone with her and suggested a different approach. Clearly, that method was too drastic for her.”

  “She insisted on going.” His voice was quieter.

  “And you should have known better,” she scolded.

  “Don’t worry, I know better now. And I intend on taking her away from here as soon as humanly possible.”

  Grace leaned back. “And what good will that do? Darcy will find her. He’s part of her. Until we can extract him from her mind, she’ll—”

  “She’ll what?” He grit his teeth. “Continue to be your lab rat?”

  She recoiled at his words. “I’m trying to help her. To help both of you,” she said pointedly. “I suggest you remember that.”

  He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “I know.”

  Troy’s eyes searched my face. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him until his furrowed brow relaxed. Instead, I was paralyzed in my own body. Darcy’s voice grew louder, closer. I had to find him. To end this. He was destroying everything that was real. I felt my eyes close and my body slump forward, as both Troy and Grace shouted my name.

  Troy was on the outdoor sofa, watching me when I opened my eyes. His beige linen pants were rolled casually at the ankles, and his black t-shirt accented his athletic built. It was hard to read the expression on his face, but it landed somewhere between distressed and relieved. His hair was slightly mussed and his clothes wrinkled like he’d slept there. Which meant I’d been sleeping outside as well. I frowned, trying to remember details from last night. I remembered feeling ill from something I’d eaten. No…something I drank. But I didn’t feel sick or tired. I felt lost. As though everything had changed, and not in a good way.

  “How did I get out here?” I sat up, wincing at the ache in my arm. That’s when I noticed what I was wearing, or mostly wasn’t wearing. I wore one of his pale striped shirts, unbuttoned to my chest. And nothing else. I tugged the blanket up higher.

  Troy almost looked amused by my latent modesty, considering it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before.

  “You came to after we got back. Said you were hot and proceeded to take off your clothes. I brought you my shirt. And you fell asleep again after phase two of the headshrinker’s potion kicked in.” He set down his coffee. “You were finally sleeping so deeply I didn’t want to wake you, like he said you would. But I couldn’t leave your side either, so I slept on the gravity chair.” His face turned grave. “You were dreaming about him.”

  Dreaming of Darcy was like that. Waking up in a fog, not sure what was happening or where I was. It was like being poised on the knife edge of a dream and a memory, unable to tell which was which. But I didn’t remember dreaming of him last night, although I know I had. It was as if I’d slept a dreamless night.

  I blinked against the morning sunlight. “How do you know I was dreaming? Was I calling out his name or something?” Even though I’d warned him that could happen, I’d die of embarrassment if it actually did.

  His expression went blank, and he gave a slight shake of his head. “Those screams. They were the stuff of nightmares, not dreams. And when I couldn’t wake you, I started to—”

  I knew what he was going to say. He started to worry I’d end up like Celeste. Gone.

  I shifted my weight, then clutched my arm to my chest. It ached, and I figured it was from sleeping wrong. But this was worse. I tried to move it and cringed in pain.

  Troy sat next to me on the lounge chair. His eyes darkened as he studied me.

  “He did this to you. Didn’t he?”

  I managed to nod, before I got up off the lounge chair.

  “It’s my shoulder,” I said. “I think I dislocated it.”

  “You mean he dislocated it.” I could see the dark rage building in his eyes, and I watched it travel all the way down, tensing every muscle in his arms as his hands clenched into fists. He bent his head and pressed a fist to his forehead. “I need to get you to the hospital.”

  “We’ve been through this. No hospitals. Seriously. My granddad used to dislocate his shoulder all the time, and grandma said he’d just pop it back in place, back when—” My voice slipped away.

  His frowned deepened. “Nora, I don’t think this is a good idea. You need medical attention. I’ll drive there myself, and then I’ll come back here and find him.”

  “Hey.” I tried to reach out my arm but cried out in pain. Worry lines creased his forehead.

  “Just slam me into the wall and it’ll pop back in place.” I moaned.

  He lifted his anguished eyes. “I hope to God you’re joking right now.”

  “Do I sound like I’m joking?”

  “Nora...”

  “Please, Troy, you have no idea how much I hate hospitals. Full of death and suffering. The smell alone makes me want to hurl. I’m not going,” I insisted. “Besides, how would I explain something like this? What’s the nature of your injury, miss? And I say what? The guy from my dreams dislocated my arm? We both know they’d see us together, see the bruises, and blame you.” When he continued to stare at me like I was insane, I added, “You took CPR and first aid, right?”

  He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I guess I could reset it,” he said darkly. “Since you’re apparently the most stubborn girl this side of the equator.” He stood up and walked toward the firepit.

  I wanted to smile, but the pain had spread.

  “Okay.” I grit my teeth. “Let’s do it.”

  “Stand up,” he said.

  When I did, pain shot through me. My knees buckled a little, but I managed to stay upright.

  He moved closer to me. “Stand in front of me.” I took a tiny step toward him, but the fear of more pain suddenly beat my heart faster, and I took a few steps away from him.

  Troy sighed. “This will only work if I can reach you.”

  He moved behind me, and I felt the warm length of his body pressed against my back. His chest rose and fell evenly, and his breath caressed my neck. A tiny shiver rippled through me, causing the most delicious sort of pain. He slid one arm over my shoulder across my chest and the other under my arm. “You ready?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know?” I bit down on my lip.

  He sighed again. “Are we doing it or not?”

  “Do it.” I exhaled, my heart racing against his skin. “No wait. Is it going to hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  That was all I remembered before an explosion of agony seared
my arm and spread through my whole right side. I felt my legs buckle and my stomach roller coaster with nausea. That was all I remembered.

  When I opened my eyes again, Troy was pacing the patio like a caged jaguar.

  He stopped when he realized I was awake, and his gaze softened for just a second before turning granite hard.

  “You okay?”

  “Will be,” I said, but this time I didn’t try to move.

  My arm was wrapped in a makeshift sling, tied firmly around my neck. “Nice. First aid 101,” I said lightly. But Troy’s expression darkened.

  “He’s the reason for this. He caused you physical pain. I intend to return the favor.”

  I cast a furtive glance as his pacing slowed then stopped. “You won’t find him,” I said. “I don’t even know if he’s real or imaginary anymore.”

  “You blacked out from pain, Nora. That’s not imaginary.” I saw the muscle in his jaw work. “If he can cause pain, he can feel it. And he will feel it. I promise you.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I’d never been more grateful for holiday weekends and cool summer nights. Combined, they proved to be incredibly restorative, especially when spent on a pillow-top bed under a feather duvet.

  I snuggled into the cool coziness of Troy’s bed. It was dark again and smelled like rain, though I had no idea if it was actually raining. Twenty-four hours had passed since our trip to see the witch doctor. It hadn’t taken long for the pain in my arm to disappear, the same way the bruises had quickly vanished too. Darcy’s power was potent, but his damage was short-lived. I had no idea what whacked effect the witch doctor’s potion had caused, but I don’t think it did much for my dreams. If anything, it was worse now since I couldn’t even remember them. Maybe that was part of the process, a step toward not dreaming about him at all. But I didn’t believe that. It was too easy. A thousand dollars for some hot flashes and being naked with Troy, and not even remembering it? Money well spent. Not that he cared about the money, but it was a huge deal to me, and right now I was vicariously feeling ripped off.