Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology)

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Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) Page 12

by Chrissy Peebles


  Crap. Her breath caught in her throat, and the same thought played in her mind. What are these guys planning to do with me—or to me?

  Victor turned to his knights. “You captured her this morning, here, in the Forest of the Guardians. Is this the same woman who escaped from you?”

  “Yes, milord,” a knight said, looking slightly embarrassed. “Without a doubt, this is the same one who escaped us.”

  The others nodded in agreement, some looking at the ground in shame.

  A case of mistaken identity was the last thing she needed. “They’re wrong! I can assure you they’ve never seen me before.” She laughed. “How could they? I wasn’t even here.”

  Victor scoffed. “Are you suggesting that my knights are liars, Princess?”

  “No, but maybe this healer of yours should get them all some bifocals. I’m a researcher leading a major expedition. I study these creatures, uh, these Guardians, as you call them, that are running around this forest. I have been trying to prove their existence for a long time, and—”

  “Prove their existence? You know full well they exist! That is exactly why you entered this forbidden place. You thought we wouldn’t follow you in, but I’d risk my life to get my hands on you. After all, you are all the leverage we need to make your stubborn father see the light.” Victor climbed up on his horse and stared down at her, casting periwinkle daggers through her. “Would you like to ride with me or one of them?” He pointed to his men. “I must warn you that my men are not as capable of keeping their hands to themselves. Has been many weeks since they have seen someone the likes of you, and men can get very lonely.”

  The men exchanged glances and guffawed.

  Sarah glared at them, wanting to be sick. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m wearing a chastity belt. Never leave home without it,” she said.

  “I’m not here to defile you.”

  She hoped he wasn’t messing with her. “That’s great to hear.”

  “You shall come with me. I give you my word that your virginity, your chastity, will remain intact, milady. I cannot make the same guarantee for your life, however, for that shall depend on your father’s cooperation.”

  Sarah’s heart quivered, and goose-bumps traveled to the surface of her skin. “I’m not going anywhere with any of you. You’ll have to kill me first.” She swallowed hard, wondering if she’d made a mistake of offering him that option right then and there. It might not have been her brightest idea. Shifting her legs to ease the stiffness only set off her internal alarms, and with some burst of ridiculously unfounded courage, she lurched toward the forest.

  A knight locked his arms around her waist and left her feet kicking above the ground. “I believe we have a wild one here, milord,” he mumbled as he handed her up to her captor.

  “I heard she was quite the feisty one,” Victor said.

  “Let me go!” Sarah said.

  “Listen. If you cooperate, I will keep your secret.”

  “What secret?”

  “That your brother is alive and well. I know you’ve never met me before, but I used to know your mother. And because of that, I will keep your secret.”

  Sarah flailed, trying to escape, but Victor pulled her into his strong embrace and wrapped one arm around her waist as he turned his horse. He hauled her off as if she was merely a possession, some spoil of war, in spite of her futile attempts to squirm out of his embrace. “Calm down, Princess,” he said. “You will come with me now, and if your father values your life as a father should, he shall graciously withdraw his forces from the Tastian border. If he does not, he is a fool and will be a father no longer.”

  “Frank!” Sarah yelled. “Frank, if you can hear me, call the police! I’m being kidnapped by a bunch of lunatics. I know that’s what you think I am, but I’ve found somebody even crazier than me.”

  “Nobody’s going to save you now.” His long dark hair tickled her cheek as he bent to whisper in her ear. “If you know what’s good for you, you will listen and obey. This is not a game, Princess. Do you understand?”

  “Milord, we must be going,” said a man with a black beard. “It is not safe out here among the Guardians.”

  She nodded. “It’s not a game for you either. First-degree kidnapping is a Class A-1 felony. You’ll be thrown in a hole for twenty years, and I’m sure Bubba will love this little costume of yours!” she shouted. “You let me go right now, or you’ll be the one somebody calls ‘Princess’!”

  “Enough of this nonsense.” Victor’s voice turned sharp.

  Nonsense? You got that right, buddy. She wondered at what point she’d fallen head-first into the Twilight Zone. “Who are you anyway?”

  “Don’t play the fool. You know exactly who I am.”

  “Well, I’m afraid my memory’s a little fuzzy on that.” She scratched her temple. “I think I hit my head and blacked out.” It wasn’t a lie, and she wondered for a minute if she was dreaming up the whole thing. She could think of nothing better than waking up in her bed to the aroma of a piping hot cup of coffee—or those bacon and eggs Frank had promised before he took off to God-knew-where.

  “Perhaps that explains all the strange babbling,” Victor said, pulling on the reins. “But no matter. We shall take you to the healer for a look. Now, tell me, is ‘911’ some secret code, a way to beckon your armies against us?”

  “Something like that,” she said, sighing again. “Anyway, please refresh my memory. Who are you?”

  Victor straightened in his saddle and raised his chin a notch, the slightest glint of a smile playing in his blue eyes. “I’m King Victor Fesque II. Your father, King William Jarod, is currently my chief adversary. And now, thanks to you, I have all the leverage I need.”

  Sarah was sure no one was going to believe any of it. She already got enough guff for chasing eight-foot humanoids around the woods. There was no way anyone was going to find out about this little fairytale, or she’d be labeled a crackpot for life. “Please, I’m begging you to trust me. If you let me go now, I won’t say a word to anyone—not even a peep. My reputation is at stake, and that means a lot to me as a scientist.”

  “Scientist?”

  “Listen, uh, Your Highness, you’re making a huge mistake. You have absolutely no leverage with me, because I’m not this person you think I am! My name’s Sarah Larker. This King Gerald or whoever you’re talking about won’t even know me.”

  “In spite of your lies and your demands, Highness, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Princess Gloria Jarod.”

  Chapter 3

  Sarah jumped when something resembling a cockroach—only much bigger and grosser—scurried over her foot. Water dripped onto the dirt floor from the craggy ceiling in an annoying and never-ending rhythm. Dark, rusty, ominous chains hung from the wall; she was glad the knights had spared her from being bound by them. A pile of bloodied, filthy rags were clumped together in the corner. She cringed, wondering if they used to be someone’s clothes. A putrid stench hung thickly in the air, but even that paled in comparison to the layers of muck covering the walls. In the opposite corner, were piles of excrement. She had to get out of this place, preferably before her next trip to the bathroom.

  A breeze whipped around her shoulders. As she shivered, her skin rippled into another fit of goose-bumps. Sarah would have killed for her leather coat, but it was locked in the trunk of her Jeep, along with all the other stuff that would have been useful, like her Swiss army knife and jack. She sighed and rubbed her arms with her palms, hoping the friction would infuse some warmth into her flesh. In the dim light, a giant cobweb dangled in one corner. Haven’t these people ever heard of dusting, deodorizer, or bug spray? Who in the world uses a dungeon anymore? She’d never even had a traffic ticket before, but now she was thrown into some ancient hell hole. She leaned against the stone wall and jumped when the cool, wet slime soaked through her shirt. An escape wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Wherever she was, she doubted even Google Maps could find her. She
wiped her hands across her pants and shouted, “Listen, you medieval nutcases, you’re all going to fry in the electric chair. I’ll personally invent the thing myself. The least you could do is to leave me a can of Raid.”

  The pocked steel of the bars chilled her already cold hands as she wrapped her grimy fingers around the bars. How did a Bigfoot expedition with thirty researchers turn into a kidnapping? I’ve been thrown down here by some kind of King Arthur wannabe! It’s not possible…is it? She had no idea, but she was sure it all had something to do with Sabrino Cave, the same place her older sister had disappeared from ten years earlier while on a camping trip.

  Sarah and her sister had decided to go on a hike that morning. Liz had entered the cave first. Since she was a whole year older, she thought she’d take responsibility if things went wrong. As Sarah began to follow, a towering, fur-covered figure jumped out and grabbed for her.

  Sarah shook her head, sucking in a deep breath as the scene played out, those yellow eyes seared forever in her mind. She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the memory of the skunk-like stench emanating from its matted brown fur. The thing chased her into the woods, but she somehow made it back to her parents. Her sister was not so lucky and had not been seen since. Nobody believed Sarah’s story, but since that fateful day on, Sarah had made it her mission to find her sister and prove to the world that what she saw that day was real.

  She rubbed her temples. Is that cave some kind of mysterious portal? Her heart raced, and she couldn’t stop the flood of hope that ran through her veins, even though the whole thing sounded absurd. The thought that her sister might still be alive spurred her on, and she wished she could find a few sticks of dynamite to bust herself out of that joint.

  Suddenly, a door squeaked far off to the left, followed by the sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor.

  Craning her neck to catch a glimpse, she squinted through the shadows flickering from the torches hanging on the wall. A figure approached, its face obscured by the partial darkness. A guard? No…something more sinister. My captor. King Victor’s blue eyes met hers, and her breath caught in her throat. He wore the same Knights of the Round Table garb as before, with two differences: a red velvet cape trimmed with black and white fur hung close to the ground, and he topped off the ensemble with a gold crown adorned with jewels. The facets of the gems reflected the light of the torches. Showing off, is he? Sarah could have sworn he’d been out costume shopping on eBay.

  “Where the heck are we?” she hissed, glaring at him.

  He flashed her a charming smile. “Still playing the fool, Highness? We’re in Tastia, as I am sure you already know.”

  “Tastia? What map would I find that on?” She snorted as she squeezed her fingers around the rusted bars.

  He picked at his perfectly manicured nails. “Acting stupid is not becoming, milady.”

  “Stupid? I’m not the one walking around in that ridiculous Halloween costume at this time of the year,” she seethed. Finally, she managed a calming breath, “I’m not in California anymore, am I?”

  “California? I know not of such a place, and your stories will get you nowhere, Princess Gloria. No one has ever heard of this place you speak of.”

  Sarah was suddenly painfully aware of how real her situation was. There was no way even dedicated actors would risk kidnapping charges to stay in character. By the look on the king’s face earlier, he really didn’t know what a radio or image thermal camera was. It was no wonder he thought she was crazy when she’d mentioned a cell phone and 911. Everything was adding up, and she didn’t like what it was adding up to. She took a step back, clutching her chest as the realization hit: Yeah, we definitely had to have entered through some portal, probably in that stupid cave! The same one the Bigfoot creatures—the Guardians—use to come through into our world, our time! It was a small wonder to her that no shred of evidence had ever been found. As she realized what was happening, she thought she might barf on the king’s fancy leather boots.

  “Why is your brother alive? We thought he died years ago.” When Sarah didn’t answer, he let out a long sigh. “I will keep your secret…for now.”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Your family staged his death. I’m wondering why.”

  “I don’t know. This is something you should ask the real princess.”

  King Victor cocked his head. “Surely you thought twice before crossing the Tastian border.”

  She glared at him, saying nothing.

  He continued, “We’ve been at war for ages, Highness. Why would you risk your life to come here?”

  “I followed Bigfoot…er, one of the Guardians into the cave. How could I’ve known it’d take me here?” She jumped at the sound of squeaking as two humongous rats fought over a crust of moldy bread.

  King Victor shook his head as though he didn’t have a clue what she meant. “Just admit the truth. You came to warn your brother about the trap I set. Was it worth it? Charles is back home in the comfort of his warm castle, and here you are in a cold, musty dungeon facing a rather questionable fate.” He stepped back and extended his hands in an all-encompassing gesture. “I take it everything is up to your standards.” He touched her hand that was wrapped around the bar in a death-grip.

  “Oh yeah, sure. All the comforts of a five-star hotel.” She pulled her hand back as she fought against the instant attraction she felt. He might have been the hottest thing she’d ever lain eyes on, but he was the enemy—and he was a sarcastic jerk too. “You think it’s funny to kidnap me and then throw me in a dungeon?”

  He curled his lips into a smile. “Why, milady, you should be thanking me. I could’ve put you in with the general population, but I feared you may not fare so well among those miscreants. The screams are just horrendous.”

  “Well, in that case, I appreciate the VIP accommodations.” She rolled her eyes. “The rats and cockroaches are a nice touch,” she seethed. Regardless of what he thought, that stone coffin was not her idea of a comfy stay.

  “I’ve received word from your father.” King Victor locked his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels. He cocked a brow, waiting for her reaction as though that news should mean something to her.

  “Really? Well, how is dear old Dad? I’m trying to picture his face in my head. Funny, I can’t. Maybe that’s because I’ve never even met the dude!”

  “I would think you might be curious to know what he said, as your fate relies on his cooperation.”

  “Let me think about that. Hmm. Not really.” A shiver slid down Sarah’s spine. She looked away quickly lest he notice her sudden realization. Whoever this Princess Gloria was, she hoped her father loved her deeply. Sarah’s life depended on it.

  He turned to the guard who had just approached. “Guard, open this door!”

  The guard snapped to attention. “Yes, milord.”

  “That’s not necessary, Vic,” Sarah said, taking a few steps back as the metallic clank of the lock echoed. “I can hear through the bars just fine.” She blinked, hoping the message had reached him loud and clear. The truth was, he’d clamped his arm around her waist a little too close for comfort on the ride to that horrible place, and he’d threatened her life more than once.

  The heavy door opened, and King Victor reached her in two strides. His gaze connected with hers as his blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “Your father refused to meet my demands. I’m afraid there’s only one thing left to do to show him how dire this situation truly is.”

  Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good. Sarah sucked in a quick breath, her heart hammering. Why didn’t I just stay hidden in the trees? She thought perhaps she could do some fast-talking and flip the coin in her favor. They always say the truth will set you free, she reasoned. “Look, like I told you, I’m not Gloria. My name’s Sarah.” She could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe a single word passing from her lips.

  He leaned in closer, his warm breath caressin
g her cheek as he said, “Princess, I’m sorry, but I’m left with no other choice.”

  Her heart sank. It wasn’t rocket science. He planned on killing her to get revenge on his rival. He’d said so himself. She tried to control the quiver in her voice. “Of course you have other choices. If you’re the king, you get to make the rules—or aren’t you that powerful?”

  “Your father must pay for his sins and transgressions, and he will one way or another—soon and very soon.” He stroked a stray hair from her eyes, but she averted her gaze. His hot breath hit her cheek as he continued, “I think I’ll extend an invitation to him. There will be some tears shed. That we can count on.”

  “You’re all crazy and in dire need of meds.”

  King Victor whispered in her ear. “Don’t act so sad. You just might enjoy it.”

  What kind of sick freak is this guy? Enjoy having my head cut off by some guy with a giant hatchet and a black hood? Some king this guy is. The only royal thing about him is that he’s a royal pain in the—

  “I can’t wait to see your father’s face.” He smirked.

  She pushed him back, her stomach fluttering from the thought of her own execution. Will it be quick or long and painful? “You’re nuts! How can you order the execution of an innocent woman? No wonder this Gloria’s father is after you.”

  “Execution? Princess, I’m not going to kill you.”

  “Said the spider to the fly.”

  “Spider? Fly? Pardon me, but I do not understand what insects have to do with any of this.” Victor shook his head. “I have much more…pleasurable things planned.” He squeezed her tight against him.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she realized the meaning of his words. He couldn’t possibly want… She pushed him hard. “Let me go!”

  “Do you know what would make your father’s blood boil even more than seeing your pretty little head roll?”

  She didn’t need to hear the words, as the grin on his face said it all. She squirmed in his grip, struggling to keep her wits and silence the screaming voice in her head. “Haven’t the slightest clue.”

 

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