The Golden Bell

by Autumn Dawn

  CHAPTER 2

  He was overreacting.

  Keilor watched her tremble, chiding himself. The girl was young and scared, barely even a woman by the looks of her, and he was a stranger who deliberately frightened her. Of course she would lash out. As he watched the girl gather her courage, he remembered that his cousin considered her a friend. He didn’t have to like it, but he could refrain from terrorizing her.

  He wiped the blood from his battered nose and his anger flared again. Blight that! He would if she would.

  Nevertheless, his touch was gentler and his pace slower as he guided her through the darkness. Remorse stabbed him when she shrank a little at his touch. He ruthlessly repressed it. They didn’t want her to like it here, nor to feel welcome, no matter what Rihlia thought. She would come to see the wisdom of remaining separate from the human world soon enough. If he and Jayems had their way, the girl would be going back this instant. Only Rihlia’s need to reassure this girl that she was fine stayed their hands.

  The memory of her stripping off her heavy clothes strobed through his mind, provoking a flash of heat. She glanced at him in surprise and a little fear when his grip tightened on her arm. He forced it to relax.

  It was only the unexpectedness of it that had caused his body to react, he reassured himself. He hadn’t expected the girl to start stripping. It hadn’t helped to discover that her outer wrappings had concealed an exotically pretty woman—girl, he corrected himself firmly—underneath. His cousin had claimed they were of an age, but this female was barely up to his chest, with a youthful face, besides.

  Not that it mattered what she looked like; the girl was going back as soon as Rihlia said goodbye. It was time for his cousin to rediscover her real family.

  He ducked to avoid a branch, thinking how fortunate they’d been to find the long lost Rihlia at one of the rare gates between worlds. He shook his head in amazement. After years of fruitless searching, only to discover the child she’d been had crossed worlds! But now she was home and it was time for her to take her rightful place among her people and her family.

  He glanced at the dark haired girl in irritation, the night no barrier to his keen vision. What Rihlia didn’t need was reminders of the past weighing her down while she tried to readjust to her home world. Even if they were sweetly curved and just the right height to—

  “I cannot see what she could possibly want with you,” he burst out in frustration.

  The girl’s head snapped up and she stopped. “She? Are you talking about Wiley?”

  “Her name is Rihlia,” he corrected stiffly, stopping as well. He was annoyed at his outburst. It wasn’t like him to be this edgy around a woman; even a beautiful woman; especially a beautiful woman, and he didn’t like it.

  “She’s my age, very dark hair, looks Asian?”

  “I know who she is,” he said coolly, “And her name is Rihlia.”

  Her eyes snapped fire as she jerked her arm away, fear apparently forgotten. Really, for such a tiny creature, she was full of passion. Had she been anyone else, he would have relished that knowledge; but she wasn’t staying.

  “Her name is Wiley, you misbegotten—” she broke off and took a deep breath. “I need to see her.”

  “Then come.” He took her arm again and set off. The sooner this chore was accomplished, the better. He had more important matters to attend to.

  Apparently she wasn’t content to travel in silence, for she said, “What is this place?”

  “The Dark Lands,” he answered shortly, hoping she’d be quiet. He glanced off into the trees and toyed with the idea of having the volti show themselves again to frighten her speechless, but refrained.

  “Why is it called that?”

  “To frighten off unwanted humans?” he suggested with exasperation. Were all humans this bothersome, or was it just her? She tripped over a plainly visible rock in the path and swore, forcing him to steady her yet again. He added clumsy and unobservant to the list of things he didn’t like about her.

  “What do you mean, ‘humans’?” she asked suspiciously.

  “What you are, and what I am not. What Rihlia is not,” he informed her with satisfaction. That ought help drive her off. Humans were notoriously fearful of anyone alien, even their own kind. She would be no different.

  “Wiley is as human as I am,” she gritted out. “I ought to know. We were raised in the same orphanage.”

  The remembrance of how his cousin had been kept in a sterile home for abandoned and orphaned children enraged him anew. “She was raised there, but she wasn’t born there. Your kind put her there.”

  “Yeah? Well, she wouldn’t have been there if your kind hadn’t lost her,” she snapped back.

  He grabbed her arm and jerked her to him, angry on such a deep level that he could barely verbalize his emotion. “You have no idea what you are saying, creature. Beware lest you test my mercy,” he warned her softly, almost relishing her trembling. Hatred of humans was old and instinctive. Though he could not have named all his reasons, he wanted this one to fear him. He wanted her to leave.

  There was something wrong about her.

  Before he could identify what his instincts told him, his nose caught her scent, bringing with it a desire that flooded his senses in an entirely alien way. For a moment his mind stalled, and the closest he could come to breaking away was to shift his hand down her arm. Spellbound, the only thing that he wanted in that moment was to let his body speak to her in a language entirely its own.

  Lightning traveled up his arms from her frozen body and he let go with a gasp. “Charmer!” he hissed, and gripped the hilt of his blade. It was all he could do not to kill her on the spot. Of all the woman in the world Rihlia had to call friend, why one of them, one of the few guaranteed to be trouble to the males of his kind?

  “What?” She looked confused. Could she be ignorant of her curse? It would not save her. He had sworn not to harm her, but it would not stop the others. They would kill her. A charmer was a temptress, a siren, poison.

  He needed to get rid of her, fast.

  He reached out to tow her along again, thought better of it, and pointed with an unsteady hand. “There is the trail. Follow it.” He thought of prodding her along with his blade for good measure, but perhaps that was going too far. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d leap on him and attempt a seduction right there.

  Probably.

  Her head turned to follow his pointing finger and she squinted in bewilderment. “Where?”

  “Right there,” he repeated, wondering what was wrong with her. Could she really be this helpless in the dark?

  The sultry wind ruffled her limp hair as she gave a weary sigh. “Look, I can’t see a thing out here, ok? I can barely see you, so if you plan on getting where we’re going tonight, you’ll have to lead the way.”

  It was not worth arguing. The sooner begun… He started walking—not so fast that she couldn’t see him, but far enough ahead to ensure zero contact. One couldn’t be too careful with a charmer.

  For thousands of years, her kind had been used by humans to lure and trap the men of the Haunt. The best of their warriors had been enticed by the unique, bewitching scent of the charmer and killed by their masters until there were few of them left. That combined with the unrelenting fear and hatred of humans had driven his kind to seek their own world, free of the hunters.

  And now one of them was here.

  Jayems would be furious.

  As they approached the forest entrance to the hollowed volcanic mountain that served as the Haunt fortress, he kept a wary eye on the female, remembering Rihlia’s unfortunate reaction to her first sight of the warrior Haunt. This girl was no different. The moment she saw the shadowy guards she stumbled back with a gasp, which was at least an improvement over the ear-shattering shriek he’d been braced for. Reaching back, he grabbed a fistful of her shirt and dragged her through the door. Once inside, he propelled her down the hallway with a business-like hand at her back.
/>   “Wh-what…”

  Badly shaken, she could barely get the words out. At least she wasn’t hysterical. It had taken much longer to calm Rihlia down enough to make her believe the Haunt were not a danger to her. But then, she belonged to this world.

  He would make no such assurances to this human.

  “Wait here,” he told the girl sternly, pointing to the cushioned bench set in the alcove opposite his lord’s rooms. She sank limply onto the bench, obeying him without a murmur, but it wasn’t him she was looking at. He turned to the pair of Haunt guards flanking the massive double doors and eyed them wryly. She was unlikely to attempt any mischief while under their baleful stare, but just to be sure…

  “Eat her if she moves,” he ordered, and watched with satisfaction as her eyes widened. Hiding his grin at the guards’ puzzled glances, he entered the room.

  “She is here,” he reported, stepping into the large room.

  Jayems looked up quickly from where he sat at his desk of polished, dark wood. The heavy ledger he’d been reading closed with a muffled thud, but his boots remained crossed on the desktop as he waited for more details.

  Rihlia wasn’t nearly as calm. She leapt off the couch where she’d been sitting and demanded breathlessly, “Where?” Her long dark hair had been braided with pearls and topaz, and someone had gotten her into a white silk robe. He wondered who’d worked the miracle. The last time he’d seen her she’ll still been stubbornly clinging to her old clothes.

  Keilor smiled slightly, amused. For all she looked like a princess, she was as bright-eyed and eager as a much younger girl. It was easy to see in her the child she’d been.

  Grimness replaced his amusement as he recalled her friend. “There’s a problem,” he informed his lord darkly. “She’s a charmer.”

  Jayems’ feet uncrossed, dropping with unnerving deliberation to the floor. He slammed his palms down on the desk and leaned forward. “A what?”

  Keilor shook his head slowly. “She could be nothing else. I’m certain of it.”

  Jayems swore and got to his feet, pacing with barely controlled anger.

  His reluctant betrothed looked between them in angry confusion. “What’s the matter? You told me she could—”

  Jayems whirled to face her, his dark tunic riffling in the breeze. “I gave permission for you to say goodbye, and I will still allow it, but the minute you are finished, she goes.”

  Her eyes flared in temper. “Well, of course, darling,” she agreed acidly. “After all, we wouldn’t want any unsavory humans loitering about, now, would we?”

  He stalked her, stopping inches from her to pierce her with his stare. “I’m gratified we understand each other, wife.” Before she could snarl out a denial, he snapped, “Bring her, Keilor. Let’s finish this.”

  * * *

  Jasmine sat where she’d been ordered and stared at the intricate mosaic patterns in the wood floor. It was hard not to gawk at her guards, and her gaze kept darting up to peek with horrified fascination. Lemming pressed against her leg, whining softly.

  They made no bones about staring back.

  They had the heads and flattened faces of wolves, and their entire bodies were covered in dark hair. Each guard wore a leather holster with a gun of some sort strapped to his thigh and a long knife sheathed at the hip. Combat boots, pants and buckled leather vests completed the ensemble. They looked frighteningly competent.

  Frightening being the key word.

  It was a relief when her warden opened the door and ordered her to, “Come.” With forced courage, she got to her feet and edged swiftly past the guards, relaxing only when the door was safely shut behind her. She was going to have nightmares about this place.

  Lemming gave a glad bark and charged forward.

  Wiley laughed as she knelt down to hug her dog. “Good girl!” she praised the collie and fondled her ears affectionately. “You found me, didn’t you?” She looked up and saw Jasmine, and her eyes glittered with tears. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she murmured, and embraced her in a crushing hug. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  Jasmine pulled back and gave her a wobbly grin. “Blame it on your map. You forgot to mention that last curve in the road.” Her smile faded as she glanced at the two men who watched them impassively. She looked back at her friend. “What’s going on, Wiley?”

  “It’s…” Wiley broke off and looked at the dark haired man Jasmine didn’t know. He was perched on a desk, his feet crossed at the ankles. Her erstwhile escort stood near him, which was also as far from Jasmine as the room allowed.

  “I don’t suppose we could have some privacy?” Wiley asked coldly. The handsome stranger inclined his head, indicating that he had heard her, but he didn’t move. She muttered something under her breath and led Jasmine to the far end of the room, sitting down with her on a couch. Lemming came up and nudged Wiley’s hand, and she absently stroked her while she explained.

  “We’re on another world,” she began slowly.

  Jasmine glanced at the triple moons visible through the window comprising an entire wall and then back at the door. She nodded slowly in agreement. She’d figured that one out on her own.

  Wiley watched her carefully. “I was born here.”

  Jasmine’s eyes unfocused for a moment as she pondered that. “It explains a few things. Go on.”

  Wiley took a breath. “The guy who brought you here is my cousin, Keilor.”

  Jasmine’s eyes darted in surprise to the man, and for the first time she really looked at him, scrutinizing his features. Black, silken hair framed high cheekbones, reminiscent of a Cherokee warrior, and the faint flare of his nostrils reinforced the impression. She couldn’t see the color of his eyes from across the room, but the expression in them of wary distaste was all too clear. She was already far too familiar with the strength of his hands, and the excellent lighting in the room only confirmed that he was in excellent shape.

  He raised a dark brow in mocking acknowledgment of the introduction.

  “You have my sympathy,” she told her friend.

  Wiley smiled slightly. She didn’t even look at the other man, just jerked her head in his direction. “The other guy is called Jayems.” They were both quite for a moment. Wiley’s hands twisted her skirt. At last she said stiffly, “They won’t let me go home, and they want you to go back right away and forget you ever saw me.”

  Jasmine sat back, carefully controlling her anger. Her expression was cold, but a dangerous smile turned up one side of her mouth. “Two words, my friend.” She twitched an eyebrow and switched to Pig Latin. “Avyna, Ealsay, anda eytha anca ovesha ita upa eirtha assa.” Navy SEALS, and they can shove it up their—

  Wiley laughed a little, relieved. She understood that Jasmine wasn’t going to just leave her there.

  Jasmine smiled slyly, squeezed her hand and stood up. “It’s been real, Wiley, and I’m glad to see that you’re all right.” She turned to the one called Keilor. “I’m ready to go home now.”

  Keilor looked back at her with a knowing expression. He turned to Jayems and made a few signs with his hands. Jayems glanced at her assessingly and signed back. Keilor moved towards her. “Why so hasty? You just got here. Perhaps it would be best if you waited to return until morning.” He watched her closely.

  Jasmine felt the panic flash like a neon sign across her face and quickly looked down, doing her best to contain it. She swallowed and said as evenly as possible, “I thought you were in a hurry to get rid of me.” She bit the inside of her lip, cursing herself for saying something so revealing, and hastily amended, “Not that I mind staying to talk to a friend or anything, but this place gives me the creeps.”

  Jayems straightened from the desk and sauntered towards her until both he and Keilor towered over her. She didn’t dare look at him. “Friends,” he mused. “That’s not what Rihlia called you. Sister of her heart, she said. Closer than blood.” He paused and looked her up and down with too knowing eyes the color of polis
hed bronze. “Odd that such a one would desert her so quickly.” Suddenly he grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Would you be planning trouble, little sister?”

  She met his eyes with difficulty, and kept them there through force of will. “Who would believe my story?” she evaded and then mentally winced. Why hadn’t she just lied? She might as well just blurt out that she intended to bring the entire U.S. Army with her if she could find her way back.

  He studied her for a moment and then softly snorted. Releasing her, he told Keilor, “Find her a room down the hall and see that she’s comfortable, would you cousin? And post guards at her door.” His smile was less than pleasant. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to Rihlia’s loyal little sister.”

  She stiffened as Keilor’s hand closed around her arm.

  Wiley got in his way at once.

  He paused to acknowledge her effort. “Cousin.”

  Alarmed, Wiley looked around him to rail at Jayems. “What are you doing?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Sending her away before I break her neck for lying to me.” He glanced at the wide-eyed Jasmine grudgingly. “Though I suppose she can be forgiven, as she does it out of loyalty to you.”

  His gaze glittered at Wiley. “There is a limit to what I will forgive those who try to deceive me.”

  “You said she could go home.”

  His face hardened. “Keilor.”

  Keilor gently moved the resisting Wiley aside and continued toward the door, leaving Jayems to continue his battle in private.

  “You be nice to her!” Wiley shouted after Keilor as they entered the gray stone hall.

  CHAPTER 3

  Keilor looked Jasmine assessingly. “Do you want me to be nice to you, Dragonfly?”

  She glowered at him. “I doubt you know how.” They paused at a set of double doors a short way down the hall.

  He flashed her a wicked smile. “I can be very nice when I choose.” His hand closed over the door handle, but he didn’t open it just yet. He moved a fraction closer to her. Warm breath slid across her skin as he traced the iridescent dragonfly pendant at her throat. She dropped her eyes, shivering just a little as chills rushed through her.