Golden Blood

by Melissa Pearl

  Hauling her body out the narrow gap, she jumped up in time to see a flash of Ruby’s ponytail. She ran after her sister and easily caught up, ducking beneath the bridge leading away from the gatehouse. Dom had the man over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and was checking for a clear coast as she approached them.

  “We’re going to have to make a run for it,” Dom said. “We’ll have to move fast. We’re open targets until we reach that first crop of trees.”

  Gemma assessed the distance and decided they could easily make it. She turned to grab Harrison’s hand and felt her stomach drop.

  “Where’s Harrison?”

  “I thought he was behind you.” Ruby looked over her shoulder.

  “No, wait. He was behind you!”

  “He made it to the stables, Gem. You didn’t see him?”

  Gemma shook her head, trying to still the erratic breathing that was threatening to overwhelm her. Biting her cheek, she looked at her sister’s worried frown then made her choice.

  “Where are you going?” Dom grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop.

  “I’m going back.”

  “Are you insane? It’s way too dangerous.”

  “Let me go!”

  “We are not separating. Dad will kill me if I turn up without you.”

  “I don’t care! I’m not leaving him here.”

  She turned to walk again, but found Ruby in her path.

  “You can’t, Gem. It’s too late.”

  “Ruby, get out of my way.”

  “Let’s just think about this.”

  “We don’t have time! Just get this guy to safety. As soon as Dad sees you without me he’ll abort anyway. We just have to pray I’ve found Harrison by then.”

  Dom and Ruby exchanged a dubious glance.

  Gemma swallowed the lump in her throat and looked straight at her brother. “Please. I have to try.”

  Dom’s determination wavered.

  “Buy me as much time as you can, okay?”

  He gave a little nod.

  “Dominic!”

  “Let her go, Rube.”

  Ruby’s eyes locked on to Gemma’s. A torrent of emotions coursed through them before she said, “If you get hurt I’m going to kick your ass. You understand me?”

  Gemma nodded with a quick smile before rushing past her.

  Fighting off the nauseating panic, she slithered around the edge of the curtain wall and back into the stables. She crouched low and listened for sounds before peeking her head around the corner. She didn’t even know where to start looking for her boyfriend. She guessed he would have been dragged to the dungeon or the great hall.

  Creeping out of the stall, she was about to head to the courtyard when the slapping of feet had her shuffling back into hiding.

  She listened to the sounds in the stable. Running feet, a painful thud, a grunt and the crunch of bone on skin. Frowning, she stole a quick peek. Harrison was on his knees, blood dripping from his lower lip and a dark bruise forming on his right cheekbone.

  She rushed out of the stall as Harrison grabbed the man’s ankle and yanked. The guard fell to the floor with a thump. Curling his fingers into a tight fist, Harrison smashed the man in the face, making his head loll to the side. He struggled to his feet, looking like a newborn giraffe as he flirted with the after effects of an adrenaline rush.

  “Harrison.”

  Spinning around, he gifted her a relieved smile, but it turned into an anguished yell as the guard at his feet plunged a dagger into his left calf muscle.

  Harrison slumped to the floor, clutching his leg. Gemma ran to his side, kicking the guard into oblivion. She turned to assist her boyfriend, but was stopped by an arrow whizzing past her ear and landing in the beam beside her. Four guards rushed into the stables, armed with daggers and billhooks.

  She studied the long spear-like weapons as she crouched for battle. With a blade down one side and a hook on the other, she knew they could do considerable damage.

  Weapons leveled at her heart, the guards ran at her with confident glares. She turned to the side and let the billhook slide past her thigh, smashing the first guard in the jaw with a sharp elbow. She used him as a shield against the second attacker and with a grunt smashed them into the stall.

  Spinning around, she deflected the weapon thrust at her thigh and felt the sharp sting of metal down her forearm. Ignoring the pain, she grabbed the hook and pulled the guard towards her. A quick fist finished him off just in time for her to see a blade inches from her face. The image of her cheek being carved in two flashed through her mind, but was cut short by a flying dagger that glanced off the man’s chest. The blow made him falter just long enough for Gemma to wrench the arrow from the wood behind her and spear her attacker through the eye.

  Gemma grimaced as he crumpled to the ground. She spun back and looked at Harrison who was slumped, wide-eyed and pale, on the floor. He ran a thumb over his shaking fingers as he gazed at the fallen man.

  “Let’s go before more show up.” Gemma stepped over the guard at her feet and reached for Harrison’s hand. Everything went distorted as she felt her muscles pull apart.

  “NO!”

  Her voice was swept away as her body spiraled into the future, alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  St. Augustine, Florida - 2011 AD

  The white corridor was blinding. Gemma opened her eyes and squeezed them shut again. Panicked sobs raced up her body, one tidal wave upon the next. Scrambling for her phone, she tore it out of her pocket and touched the screen.

  It rang in her hand before she could dial the number.

  “Gemma, are you okay?”

  It was her father. His stern voice brought no comfort as she let out a pitiful wail.

  “You left too soon. He’s not here!”

  “I can’t understand what you’re saying. Now slow down and answer my question first. Are you injured?”

  “No, I’m fine.” She sniffled, ignoring the stinging wound on her forearm and the ache in her shoulder. “But Harrison’s not here. We weren’t touching. We have to go back.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “No, we have to go back!”

  “Gemma, it is too risky. I’m not sending any of us back.”

  “YOU HAVE TO!”

  “I don’t have to do anything.” His voice was low and cold. “Debrief is in one hour.”

  The phone went dead in her hand. She gripped the plastic and resisted the urge to throw it against the wall. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her naked body. Resting her forehead on the top of her knees, she sobbed.

  This couldn’t be happening. A game of what-if started up in her head, cruelly taunting her with all the mistakes she’d made in those last critical moments. She should have been standing closer. She should have jumped across those men and tackled Harrison to the ground.

  “Harrison,” she whispered, her belly quaking.

  He would die. That was inevitable…and there was nothing she could do about it. The hope that Harrison had brought into her life fell from its perch within. She could feel it fluttering down through her body and imagined it lying in a bloody mess on the white tiled floor.

  Her body went numb as the imagery seared her brain. She watched hope turn toward her with one gasping breath. She imagined it smiling softly and whispering one final plea.

  Her head snapped straight.

  Her eyes went dry.

  Her lips bunched tight.

  Jumping to her feet, she haphazardly threw on her clothes and raced for the exit.

  *****

  Warwick, England - 1393 AD

  Harrison slumped to the floor. His eyes were so wide he thought his eyeballs might drop out. Gemma’s gold dust had just spiraled into non-existence. He could hear the death sentence in his head, feel the ominous blackness beginning to surround him.

  The throbbing in his leg was intense. Stretching it out, he tried to examine the wound, but a
ll he could see was sticky red blood. Just to be on the safe side, he took off his belt and fashioned a tourniquet below the knee.

  He forced his brain to start ticking. He needed to get out of here. Gemma would come back for him. He repeated the sentence a few times to assure himself of this. But it didn’t work.

  She would be devastated right now. Would she have the strength to fight?

  Bile rose in his throat. He closed his eyes and swallowed it back down.

  He could hear the clatter of armor still bustling around the castle. They were probably hunting out the intruders. Shaking his head against the dizziness, he crawled toward the back stall. If he could just get out of the castle.

  Then what?

  He slumped with a sigh. His leg was throbbing, not to mention his aching face. The sound of pounding feet sent a shot of panic through his system. He struggled to the last stall as two guards rushed into the room. They charged him, billhooks lowered for penetration.

  Harrison spun away from the first and it speared the pillar beside him. Dropping low, he used his good leg to swipe the guard behind the ankles. He fell with a crash.

  With a grunt. Harrison pulled the spear-like weapon from the wood and blocked the other guard’s blow. The billhook was heavy and awkward in his hands. Harrison wished Gemma had let him have a play with the medieval weapons instead of spending so much time teaching him hand-to-hand combat.

  If I could just disarm this guy.

  Trying to stay light on his feet, Harrison ignored his gimpy leg and blocked each blow. The shock reverberated through him each time, making his muscles quiver.

  He knew he was running out of options. With a hefty yell, he swung the billhook as hard as he could and by some miracle it flicked out of the guard’s hands. They both looked at each other in surprise, before their faces went hard.

  Harrison dropped the cumbersome weapon, bunched his fists, and crouched low like Gemma had taught him. The guard was a solid man who was probably close in age to Harrison, yet the wear and tear of medieval life had taken its toll. His lined face was grim and he launched towards Harrison with a stocky fist.

  Harrison used his forearm to block the blow then drove his full force into the man’s stomach. He bent over gasping for air and Harrison brought his knee up. The man fell forward, dazed.

  A small smile toyed with his lips as Harrison stepped back. But his triumph didn’t last long. His plans of escape melted like butter in a frying pan as the stable filled with a fresh set of troops. Pain radiated through every nerve in his body as he was grabbed and roughly dragged into the sunlight.

  *****

  St. Augustine, Florida - 2011 AD

  Gemma wiped her face after pulling off her helmet and throwing it down next to her bike. The house was quiet when she slammed her way into it.

  “Dad! DAD! Where are you?”

  “I’m here.” His soft voice made her jump. She stopped in the kitchen archway. Her entire family was standing around the island looking somber, but resolved.

  Steeling her insides, she straightened her shoulders and walked into the room.

  “You’re taking me back.” Her voice punched out each word with clarity.

  “Gemma…”

  “DON’T! I’m not arguing about this. You take me back or I’ll find a way on my own.”

  “He shouldn’t have even been there in the first place!” Her mother snapped, rising from the stool, her nostrils flaring.

  “Yes, I made a mistake, but that doesn’t change the fact that we can’t leave him there.”

  Her father shook his head and frowned.

  “He’ll die!” She slapped the counter.

  “He’s probably already dead, Gem.”

  “No.” She shook her head with vehemence. “No he…he’s not. He can’t be. We can go back to earlier.”

  “The timing will be tricky.”

  “You can do it.”

  “You’re not listening.”

  “NO! You’re not listening to me!”

  “We’re not going back.” Alistair’s calm demeanor was infuriating.

  Pointing a finger at her father, Gemma breathed in just enough air to keep speaking.

  “You are not winning this one. You can’t control my life this way!” She stepped away from him, her head shaking. “We have to get him back.”

  “We don’t have to—”

  “I love him!”

  The air in the room went as still as death. Fear rippled through Gemma as her father’s face flashed with fury. Her mother closed her eyes and drooped her head as if she’d just been told the world was about to end. Dom and Ruby stood wide-eyed, their mouths unable to close.

  “That is unacceptable.” Alistair was straining for calm as he muttered the words, Gemma could feel it.

  She wasn’t sure whether it was saying the three little words out loud for the first time or simply realizing just how much she meant them, but courage built within her—one block on top of the other.

  “I don’t care what you think. I’m not living without him!” She practically screamed.

  “It is too dangerous!”

  Looking her father straight in the eye, she found her last strand of calm and forced it into her voice. “If you don’t go back you’ll be guilty of murder and you can be the one who calls his mother to explain why her son isn’t coming home tonight…and I can be the one who calls the police.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic!” Penelope huffed and crossed her arms. “Alistair, she’s being ridiculous!”

  Gemma’s jaw clenched as she turned to look at her mother. “Thinking that I will stay here if we don’t go back and get Harrison is ridiculous.”

  “Gemma.” Her father sighed and put his hands in his pockets.

  “I refuse to live in this house if you guys do this. I—”

  “Gemma!” he yelled. “We’ll go back.”

  Her mother gasped. “Alistair!”

  “She’s right, Penelope. What will we tell his mother?”

  The room fell silent again, but it was not a silence of death. Gemma felt hope flutter back up to its perch in her chest and take a full breath before congratulating her.

  She blinked at her tears and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t.” Alistair raised his hand and warned Gemma away. She took a step back from him as he walked out of the room.

  The next hour was painful. Gemma answered numerous questions with as much precision as she could, feeling her father’s livid rage barely hiding below the surface. She then paced the floor outside her father’s office as he did some final research.

  Going back was a huge risk. Her father would probably never forgive her for what she was doing. Various punishments tried to force their way into her brain, but never quite made it. Her mind was too caught up with making sure they got to Harrison in time. She could deal with the aftermath of her confession when Harrison was safely back in the 21st Century.

  The study door opened, making Gemma jump. Her father assessed her with a cool gaze before heading down the hall and back to the kitchen. She could feel the animosity radiating as they huddled around the counter, ready to discuss the mission. If any of her family got hurt because of this…

  Gemma didn’t even want to complete the thought. She studied the granite counter as her father spoke.

  “I cannot be sure of the timing, but I will do my best to arrive back at the stables just before you left Harrison. Hopefully we’ll be able to quickly nab him and make it back before anyone sees us.”

  Gemma nodded and licked her lips.

  Her father sighed. “If he’s not in the stables we’ll conduct a quick search of the castle, but Gemma, you have an hour. That’s all. I won’t risk more.”

  “But, Dad—”

  “I WON’T RISK IT!”

  Biting her lips together, Gemma dropped her gaze to the counter again.

  “I’m only taking Dom and Gemma. There’s no point risking you two.”

  Penelope and
Ruby put up no complaint. Gemma watched Ruby shoot her brother a worried frown. He put on a brave face and squeezed her shoulder.

  Gemma closed her eyes. If anything went wrong…

  “We’ll leave in ten minutes.”

  “I’d like to go back to the mall…where I left. That way Harrison and I can return together.”

  Her father’s eyes were black, but he nodded. “We’ll drive you down there.” His voice was thin.

  “It’s okay, I can take the bike.”

  “No. I want to be there to collect you when we get back.” His voice was ominous.

  Gemma’s insides quaked, her stomach rolling into a tight knot. “Okay.”

  “Let’s go.” Alistair grabbed his keys and kissed Penelope goodbye. Ruby hugged Dom and slapped him on the shoulder.

  Gemma watched the proceedings, deciding that if her mother or sister approached with affection she would reciprocate.

  Neither of them did.

  Turning from their baleful stares, she followed Dom down the hall, trying to ignore the ball of ice forming in her chest.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Warwick, England - 1393 AD

  Harrison could not hobble fast enough as the guards hauled him across the courtyard. Each time he tripped the grip on his upper arms grew tighter. White spots flashed in front of his eyes.

  One of the guards holding him grunted as Harrison was lifted from his feet and thrown into a large stone room. He stumbled to the floor, grazing his knee and tearing a hole in the worn tights. Blood smeared the exquisite patterned tiles.

  The floor was cold against Harrison’s palms. With shaking limbs, he pushed himself to stand. He felt a sharp blade resting against the back of his neck and fell back to his knees as he surveyed the room.

  The great hall was the same size as his house. He took a moment to admire the ceiling, nearly smiling at the complex design. His eyes ran down the whitewashed walls, painted with moons and stars that flickered with candlelight. He couldn’t believe he was actually in a great hall, seeing with his own eyes the castles he had imagined walking through every time he read Robin Hood or watched an epic movie.

  Laughter bubbled in his throat. Everything was the same…the round fire in the middle of the room, the raised dais with the baldaquin curtain hanging grandly behind it, the large chair housing the wealthy baron.