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

by Lori Wilde

  “I was worried when I woke up and you were gone.” Troy said, his gaze scanning me over.

  What was he looking for, signs of pain and suffering, trauma, hurt? I had them all, but the scars were on the inside.

  “I needed to get home,” I said.

  I hated that our first time together ended the way it did. It tainted what was supposed to be an amazing memory. Now it would be forever entangled in…this. And this shard of memory would come with a double edge…one tantalizing, one razor sharp.

  Breathe. Breathe.

  “Nora, I’m sorry. I should have told you. I just didn’t know how. And Grace—”

  I bit my lip. “Grace knows,” I said as the anger resurfaced. “Of course she does.” Was there no part of my life she didn’t have her nose in?

  Troy was quiet, and it annoyed me.

  “Is that it? That’s all you have to say to me?” I snapped. There was more. I knew there was more.

  “What do you want me to say, Nora? That I’m sorry last night happened? That I wish I’d never met you? ’Cause I’m not.”

  I paced the floor in front of him, my arms folded across my chest. I needed to keep moving to keep from hyperventilating. “Nuh-uh,” I jabbed a finger in his direction, “you don’t get to twist this around again. You’re holding stuff back. Tell me the whole truth this time.”

  He blew out a long, measured breath. “I used to dream of this girl I couldn’t save. I’d take her hand, but it would slip away from mine. I couldn’t save her. Every night I lost you, over and over again. Can you blame me for not wanting to let you go this time?”

  Never let me go, Troy. Promise me you’ll never let me go. I wanted to say the words; they were on the tip of my tongue waiting to roll off, but they didn’t. Instead, I stuffed them down deeper where it was safe, where they couldn’t reach me.

  Troy prowled a few steps. “I didn’t know you were the girl I’d rescued at first. I thought the familiarity was from the dreams. But then, when I found out, I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t know how. You’d never mentioned what happened with your parents that day. For all I knew I’d be reopening closed wounds, and for what? I couldn’t hurt you like that. Not after everything you’d already been through.”

  “Already been through. You mean still going through. I’d daydreamed my own anti-hero because of my past trauma. Maybe if I’d known it was you who’d saved me...” I stopped and bit down on my lip. I’d what? This wasn’t his fault. And I didn’t need saving.

  “Damn it, Nora, just talk to me. Stop shutting me out. How can I help you?”

  “Help me?” I choked back my laughter. “Help me?” I shook my head violently. “Just tell me. Did you know back then?” I searched his face. “A year ago when I walked into that art class. Did you know who I was?”

  He didn’t blink. “Yes.”

  I nodded, swallowing back my disappointment. “So, this wasn’t the first time you’ve pretended not to know me.”

  “I didn’t know you, Nora. You were someone I didn’t think was real. A vision. Someone in my dreams. But it was something more than that. The memory of you was a distant one. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if any of it was real or just my imagination...but...”

  “But what?” I shouted. A tear streamed down my face, and I swiped it away with my palm. The torment in his eyes almost crumbled my resolve, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily.

  “I saw the photograph of your house. And I knew. It was real. You were real,” he said. “And for whatever reason, our lives have been entangled for much longer than either of us realized.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, desperate to shut out the truth. But it came pouring in with more clarity and detail than I could bear. The gunshots. The confusion. The terror and sadness. And then his face, young and determined. Suddenly I was safe. They were flashes, more so than memories, like a slideshow…but they were real.

  I couldn’t keep the tears from my eyes, no matter how many times I blinked them away.

  He brushed them from my cheeks, and I melted into his touch.

  “It was you.” I nodded. “You pulled me out of the house.” I remembered it all with visceral clarity. My insides felt mangled like they’d been crushed in a vise. “And the turquoise bike…it was yours, wasn’t it?” I nodded. “When I moved in with my grandparents, they brought it back from the house along with my other things. They assumed it was mine, but when I insisted it belonged to the boy under the window, they figured you were make-believe.” I searched his face with wide eyes. “I knew it belonged to someone else; I never dreamed it belonged to you.”

  Troy stayed close to me but didn’t try to touch me. I was thankful for that.

  “When I first dreamed of Darcy, he was this gallant knight who’d come to save me. All tall, dark, and handsome, come to whisk me away from all the pain and the suffering. And he did, for a while. Then, he became my pain and suffering manifested. You saved me then, like you’re trying to save me now,” I murmured.

  He nodded once, keeping his eyes trained on mine. “Nora, this connection we have—”

  “Please stop talking about our connection,” I snapped abruptly. Even through the dim lighting I could see the confusion contorting his face.

  “How connected could we possibly be when you’ve been lying to me since day one?”

  My emotions were swinging at whiplash speeds. It was irrational and unreasonable and unfair to attack him. Still, I couldn’t stop the torrent of hurtful words from pouring from my mouth. “You’re a coward and a liar, and I don’t know how I could have trusted you,” I yelled.

  Hot angry tears welled up, and more sobs washed away the rest of my hurtful words.

  Then he was holding me, so tight I couldn’t breathe. Stroking my hair and promising me everything was going to be alright, just like he had back then. Just like he had in my dream. It was all coming true. Every moment of it. I wanted to push him away, to lash out and scream and pummel his chest, to cause him a fraction of the pain that was squeezing my chest right now. But all I could do was lean in and let him soothe away my nightmares with his gentle words and safe embrace.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. Don’t worry, babe. I’m here. I’ll always be here,” he cooed. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.” He kept repeating it.

  Eventually, I wasn’t anymore. The unbearable weight restricting my airways began to lift.

  When my body stopped shaking, he eased back. “Better?” He held me at arm’s length to examine my tear-streaked face.

  I gave a nod and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “I think so.” I wasn’t used to so much emotion. “I’m sorry.”

  His expression was agonized. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who should. I know what you’ve lost Nora, but I’ve lost things too. I lost you. And now that I finally have you back…every second of every day I fear losing you all over again.”

  He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. “Do you want to keep talking?”

  I slowly shook my head. “No—I just want to forget.”

  The banging on the door caught us both by surprise.

  It wasn’t until it blew open, slamming back against the wall so hard it cracked the plaster, that the calm I was beginning to let in was violently stripped away.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Darcy stood in the doorway, very much alive, wearing a brown leather trench coat, black riding boots, and holding a sword. He wore his eighteenth-century garb eloquently, and yet his costume didn’t mask his malicious intentions.

  “Darcy?” I sucked in a gasp as my stomach hollowed. How is this happening? At least this time someone else was here to see it happening, and that did a lot for my mental state. I wasn’t as crazy as I felt.

  He stepped into the cabin. Eying us both speculatively.

  “I have been waiting an eternity to be with you, and I find you here, embracing another,” he hissed with perfect British diction. “Do not try to deny it. I was watching you through the window. Such a
wanton display. It sickens me to think you could allow this man to touch you.”

  My mind wanted to scream this can’t be real. But pinching myself to see if I was dreaming wasn’t necessary. No, the blade he was waving in our direction was proof enough.

  Troy grabbed me and pulled me behind him, but I moved around him, entranced. Darcy was here. He’d walked out of my dreams, again, the way I had walked out of Troy’s.

  His gaze flicked over me coldly. “I gave you my life. And this... This is how you repay my unwavering loyalty? By your infidelity with this lecherous cretin. I will not stand for it. I have come to finish the ritual. To bring you home.”

  Troy was at my side, his glaring gaze aimed at Darcy. “Back up,” he said, his voice low. Dangerous. “Drop the sword and no one gets hurt, man.”

  My hand trembled as I watched him take another measured step toward us. A month ago, I would have thought I’d slipped over the edge of madness and into the abyss of insanity. But this was too real to be a dream. And now, all I could think was I can’t let Troy get hurt. Not because of something...someone I’d created and let into our world.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, swallowing my fear. If we’d created these people in our dreams, there had to be a reason for them to materialize, or whatever. Maybe there was something he wanted. “What is it you want?”

  His gaze slipped to me, and his expression was incredulous. “How can you not know of my desires after all this time, Nora?” He inched forward. “It is you I want. It is you I’ve come for. And it is you I shall leave with. Just as we intended.”

  What was it Grace had said about our past lives together? Clearly, Darcy still thought he had some claim to me. My fault for letting him think that by inviting him into my dreams every night. But no more. This ended today. I met his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Darcy. This isn’t your reality. It’s mine. And there’s no place for you in it.”

  Darcy’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened as his eyes narrowed with malice. “I disagree,” came his reply.

  Troy stepped in front of me. “There is only one of two ways this can go,” he said. “Drop the sword and go back to the hell you came from. Or come at her. And die.”

  Darcy smirked, and his gaze slithered to Troy. He looked him over dismissively. “Impressive talk for a man armed with no more than sharp words and false bravado.” He brandished his sword, which glinted in the light pouring through the window. “I will take this blade and run you through. Then we shall see which way this will go.”

  Troy shook his head once and choked a dark humorless laugh. “You’ll have to go through me to get to her,” he said. With one hand he urged me to move farther away from them, and with the other he coaxed Darcy. “Come at me, dream boy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  I covered my mouth with trembling hands. This was insane. A duel to the death might work in a Jane Austin novel, but Troy was unarmed, and Darcy was out for blood. I had to do something. Damsel in distress was never my thing. I darted around the counter into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, the biggest we had.

  “Troy, here.” I handed it to him just as Darcy swung at him. The blade lashed at his side, slicing into his flesh. I screamed as a stain of blood spread across his white shirt.

  Troy winced, clutching his side for a moment, then he threw the knife across the room.

  My eyes bulged. “What are you doing?” I ran to him, but he pushed me away.

  “Nora, stay back.” He eyed Darcy evenly. “A real man would use his hands to settle a fight. The honorable way.”

  I waited to see if Darcy would take the challenge and relinquish his sword. He was from another era, a time where things like honor mattered, so there was a chance. A crazy small chance but…

  “I am not your equal. I am here to finish this.” He lunged at Troy, but he slid out of the way, and in some crazy awesome inexplicable martial arts move, he wrestled Darcy into a submissive position. They moved in a blur of bodies and metal. Before I knew what was happening, he had Darcy on his knees, his own blade pressed to his throat.

  My hands flew up over my face. Oh my God. Was Troy going to kill him? He could bleed, which meant he could die. Right? I shook my hands, gasping for a breath. I wanted to plead for Darcy’s life. How messed up was that? But some recessed, another-lifetime-ago part of me couldn’t bear to watch him die again. Not this way. Not like the dreams predicted.

  Noises outside the door caught my attention. The sounds of laughter grew louder. Kenzie. My gaze flew to the door just as my startled best friend and her jackass boyfriend walked in.

  Steve instantly misread the situation—understandably after his last run-in with Troy the other night. He lunged at Troy, bowling into him as I screamed “No!.” But it was too late. He’d freed Darcy, who’d retrieved his sword.

  He dipped his head toward Steve. “Thank you,” he said, and then he slammed his fist into his jaw with one hand. Steve’s body fell to the floor. Darcy swung around and hit Troy in the head with the dull edge of his sword, once, then again, knocking him out. Both Troy and Steve’s bodies were motionless…unconscious. Then Darcy aimed his sword at Kenzie. She squeaked a strangled cry and backed away from him.

  “Kenzie, run!” I screamed at her. My voice jarred her into motion. And she took off, sprinting down the porch steps.

  Darcy chuckled, as if my nightmare-come-true was nothing more than mildly amusing entertainment.

  “Now it’s just the two of us,” he said, facing me. His gaze roamed to Troy’s lifeless body. “Although, perhaps in order for it to truly be just us, we’ll need to be rid of him entirely.”

  My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t let him kill Troy. Trembling, I picked up the kitchen knife and circled around him.

  “Darcy, you don’t want to do this. You should just leave, now, while you have the chance.” My voice was clipped, direct, and strong. Stronger than I felt inside.

  His lips twisted in a sneer. “I will not leave without you, Nora. You called upon me to save you. And that is what I’m here to do. We belong together.”

  “No. We don’t. Not anymore.” We moved in tandem, keeping the same distance between us in our dance of cat and terrified mouse.

  “You will see, it is a much better life I can provide for you there,” he insisted, pasting on a dark smile. “There I can show my love for you eternally.”

  My skin prickled with fear. “You say you love me. If you mean it, you’ll let me go,” I said as steadily as I could. But it was impossible to keep my voice and my hand from shaking.

  Darcy gave a sympathetic look. “Look at us, my love. Look what this world has reduced us to. We are not enemies. We are eternal lovers. Twin flames. We belong to one another. Please, do not let them brainwash you this way.”

  My anger ignited, burning away my fear. “You’re the one who’s been brainwashing me. I believed you were real. That you were as close to real love as I dared to get. But now I know love doesn’t have to be destructive. You were no more than a fantasy. And it is so over.” I backed up. “Now get the hell out of my life.”

  Darcy cocked his head with a patronizing grin. “If you could only see how adorable your tantrums are. Like a little girl who’s dropped her ice cream. I hope our daughter one day has your fiery spirit, my darling.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Picking up Kenzie’s brass lamp, I hurled it at his head. “Go to hell,” I hollered.

  It hit his arm as he blocked it and clamored to the floor in a shower of sparks.

  “If you damn me to hell, I vow I will take you there with me.” With a guttural sound, he darted toward me.

  I turned to run but tripped over the lamp cord and fell. The knife slipped from my hand and skidded across the hardwood.

  Darcy chuckled. “Foolish girl.” In a flash, he straddled my body, the tip of his sword pointed at my throat. “I gave you my heart, and you cut it out,” he growled. “Do you know what that feels like?”

  He traced the tip ove
r my chest, close to my heart. His lips curled in a lazy smile as he leaned over me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as the cold pressed against my skin until it cut through. Pain prickled across my chest. Was this it? The part of my dreams that Grace said I never let myself see. Liquid cold filled my limbs, numbing the panic and fear. If he killed me in this realm, there would be no coming back. No shamanic herbs to restore my flesh. Only death. Permanent. Final. And crazy as it seemed, there was an odd sense of freedom in knowing that. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid. Maybe death wasn’t so bad. I wondered absently what would happen to Granddad when I was dead. Would he remain blissfully unaware of all I’d gone through, having come to the school he helped build? The place that was supposed to heal me. Would the grief and sadness take what little life he had left?

  Darcy’s eyes darkened to coal, and his face contorted with rage. “I have dined on disaster more than once in this life. I do not care to ever do it again. You were the key to unlocking that; now you have ripped from me the only good that remained. And I will not rest until I’ve tasted your terror. Felt your fear. And held your beating heart in my hands. One way or another, Nora, you will belong to me again. Even if it must be in pieces.”

  He tossed his sword aside and knelt down over me. I thrashed under him, kicking and clawing at his arms.

  Cold hands closed around my throat, tighter and tighter until there was nothing but blurry darkness and heated words uttered in the silence.

  Voices filtered through—Darcy’s—but also Troy’s.

  “I am your threat. Focus here. Right here. Is she alive? And so help me the answer better be yes. Because if it’s not, I will send you to hell. Piece by broken piece. Now I’ll tell you again, take your hands off her.”

  “Save your words,” Darcy hissed. “I’ll not heed your empty threats. I am not afraid of you, but you should fear me.”

  “I’m going to end you. I didn’t want to, for her sake. But you leave me no choice.”

  The hands lifted from my throat. Air rushed in, filling my empty lungs, and I gasped greedy breaths. Pain pulsed inside of me. Not just physical pain but searing emotional pain. I hated Darcy for it. For holding me a prisoner in my own mind. Hated myself for allowing him to. Hated my parents for their sick drama that cast us all into this septic pool of madness.