By Kamery Solomon
Praise for The Swept Away Saga
“Amazing! The best way I can think to describe it is Pirates of the Caribbean meets Outlander! There is action, adventure, romance and so much more! You will not be disappointed!”
~Heather Garrison, Amazon Customer
“Kamery Solomon never disappoints a reader in her ability to tell a great story. She has proven she's not a one trick pony and capable of writing across genres. Highly recommend reading any and all of her books.”
~Lisa Markson, The Paranormal Bookworm
“This book has so many twists and turns that will keep you reading all night long. I love the characters and the mystery. The author does a fantastic job weaving every part in this story that will leave you wanting more. I highly recommend!”
~Laura Collins, Amazon Customer
“I was pulled in right away and I did not want to put the book down, nor did I want the story to end . . . a must read!”
~Holly Copper, Amazon Customer
“This is the book you MUST be reading NOW!”
~Julie Engle, Amazon Customer
“This is a story I will read time and time again.”
~Angie Angelich, Book Banshee
“What else could you want?!”
~Vonnie Hudson, Amazon Customer
Other Books by Kamery Solomon
Forever
Hell Hall (A Halloween Novella)
The God Chronicles
Zeus
Poseidon
Hades
Adrastia
Exoria
Dreams Novels
Taking Chances
Watching Over Me
The Swept Away Saga
Swept Away
Carried Away
Hidden Away
Stolen Away
Taken Away (A Swept Away Saga Origins Story)
By Kamery Solomon
Happily Ever After Publishing - Arizona
Copyright © 2017 Kamery Solomon
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published by
Happily Ever After Publishing
Arizona
Kindle Ebook Edition
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This book is available in print and ebook format.
Contents
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Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
About The Author
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For Tyanne
Thank you for being you
Eric Ray
Present Day
Everything I knew was wrong.
Or was it?
I’d heard the stories all my life, but I’d thought they were just that—stories. Whenever someone told tales of secret societies, spirits, or some other magical, made up thing, I had never once stopped to think that it might be true. But, here I was now, staring one such fable right in the face. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t find the loophole, some semblance of reasonable doubt, or even a thread to unravel.
What else was true?
Did William Shakespeare never exist, the name simply a cover for the real author? Were the ships and planes stolen from within the Bermuda Triangle at the mercy of something supernatural, never to be seen again?
What about alien abductions?
Should I really believe that beings from somewhere else in the universe came here with the sole intention of probing humans?
God, I hoped not. Just the thought of it made body parts clench and my skin crawl.
Glancing at Rebecca O’Rourke, I had the sudden, distinct thought that if anyone knew anything about extra-terrestrials, it was her. She was a member of The Order of the Knights Templar, after all. Everything about the woman screamed that she knew things I couldn’t even dream up. Details I’d refused to believe.
Frowning slightly, I studied her, watching as she bought our plane tickets from the agent behind the counter. She was wearing a black pantsuit and matching flats, her dark, curly hair pinned at the nape of her neck in an unruly bun. Every movement she made seemed graceful and soft, but she wasn’t fooling me. I’d seen the look in her eyes when she burst through Scott’s door a few hours ago and demanded we come with her if we wanted to live.
She was calculating. Smart. Dangerous.
“Tell me, again, why we’re allowing a member of the group that kidnapped you to order us around?” Muttering to my elderly friend, Scott Williams, I nudged him with my elbow, not taking my eyes off the O’Rourke woman.
“Because I’d rather be captured by The Knights Templar than the Black Knights,” he whispered, his voice calm. “And because she’s Samantha’s granddaughter.”
My breath caught at that and I froze, feeling some of the color drain from my face. I hadn’t forgotten Sam, of course, but to hear him say it so casually was shocking for some reason.
Because Sam shouldn’t have been old enough to have a grandchild my age. She was hardly older than me, a young woman who’d lost her life in search of a treasure I had spent a good amount of effort trying to find myself.
But, as I’d learned only a few hours earlier, Sam hadn’t died. Instead, she’d traveled through time, going back more than three hundred years, a
nd yet, somehow, managed to send us a letter. Well, send Scott a message, anyway. I’d only found out about it by accident.
Breathing deeply, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep the never-ending wave of confusion, disbelief, and shock from taking me down. Just thinking about everything—about what we were doing at this very moment—made me feel sick. I was supposed to be finished with treasure hunting and conspiracy theories, through with danger, done with death.
My twin brother, Kevin, had recently moved to attend New York University. My parents were retired and moved to warmer coasts. I’d inherited their pizza shop, for goodness sake! The rest of my existence was supposed to be spent with the smell of baking pepperoni and onions and my attempt to find a good person to settle down with.
How had this happened?
Taking another calming breath, I opened my eyes, focusing on the dark jacket of Rebecca O’Rourke’s outfit. It hugged her slim form in an attractive way, accentuating her curves and highlighting her pale skin. Instead of giving me something to distract myself with, though, it made me think of the darkness of the Treasure Pit, and how it now appeared that my entire being had led to this very moment.
Kevin and I had always done everything together, and working at the Treasure Pit was no different. Even when we were in high school, every warm weekend was spent on Oak Isle with Michael Greene, working to get to the bottom of the greatest mystery in Maine. No one had been able to discover what was at the end for more than two hundred years, thanks to flooding and booby traps. It was a mystery I hadn’t ever been able to let go. The riches we were sure to find would set us up for life. I’d always thought it was money hidden by the British during the Revolutionary War, sent away for protection and then lost and forgotten when the conflict ended.
Michael had always insisted it was the wealth of The Knights Templar.
Staring at the Templar Knight in front of me, I tried to keep from chuckling. I guess we knew who was right now.
Not that it mattered, in the long run. Michael had passed away before he ever discovered the answer, crushed in a landslide while we were working on The Pit. His daughter, Sam, had followed only a few weeks after, drowning in the floodwaters as they’d filled the deep cylinder—her body never recovered. The four of us left in the group split after that, finally ready to let the siren call of adventure go in exchange for escaping death by her clutches.
Except, as I’d learned earlier this evening, one of us hadn’t escaped it. Mark Bell, a pirate historian and professor, had disappeared in the Arizona desert within the past couple of months. Scott had known, but didn’t tell my brother or me, worried the news would upset us.
And then, he learned that Mark had traveled back in time.
And Samantha was with him.
Somehow, against all odds, Samantha and Mark were together, and had managed to get Scott a pair of letters, saved for hundreds of years and delivered by none other than the O’Rourke woman with us now. The documents told a story of two travelers stuck in the past, caught in the horrors and unbelievable things of the era they now inhabited. There was something the two of them had insisted Scott locate, something dangerous—a vase, better known as Pandora’s Box. It was what had transported them both from us, and they didn’t want anyone else to get hold of it. They asked Scott to find it and return it to the Templars, where they thought it would be safe.
Of course, I was never supposed to know any of this. I’d accidentally stumbled upon Scott’s research this evening, examining it in disbelief as he told me every single carbon dating test had proven the letters were real. There were historical records that matched, genealogies that held the right names. No matter how hard he tried to disprove it, Scott had only managed to verify that our friends actually were stuck in another century.
And then Rebecca O’Rourke had shown up, banging on his door, insisting we come with her or be killed by a group known as The Black Knights. Scott, who had apparently been kidnapped by them before, immediately told me to grab my coat and shuffled me into the waiting car.
And just like that, life as I knew it was over.
Everything I’d ever believed to be false was true, I was being threatened by an organization I had only learned about a few moments ago, and I didn’t know if I would ever be able to go home or see my family again.
Rebecca said it wasn’t safe. The Black Knights were aware I knew something. They would grab me as soon as I went anywhere alone. It was ‘no holds barred’ when it came to the lengths they would go to extract information.
But, Scott had told me The Knights Templar weren’t to be trusted, either. They were just as underhanded, secretive, and downright dangerous.
“Eric?”
Jerking from my panicked thoughts, I stared at Rebecca evenly, not registering she was holding a ticket.
She raised an eyebrow, a brief flash of concern crossing her features, and held the paper closer, practically placing it in my grasp. When she spoke, her voice was smooth, with a light and airy feel to it, like she could burst into song at any moment and it wouldn’t be odd at all.
“I know you’re confused,” she said softly. “Maybe even scared—”
“I’m not.” Interrupting her roughly, I took the boarding pass and shoved it into the pocket of my jacket, clearing my throat as my face flushed slightly.
Ignoring my obvious lie, she smiled tightly. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll be in Washington D.C. in a matter of hours. The Mansion on O Street is one of the safest havens The Order has ever controlled. It’s the head of our entire operation. Any Black Knight who dared enter would never leave again.”
For some reason, that didn’t make me feel any better.
Scott, coming to my rescue, butted into the conversation. “Why are we taking a public flight? Why not a private plane? Wouldn’t it be faster?” His expression was calm, watching both of us as he waited for an answer. For the first instance since I’d met him, I thought he appeared much older than his sixty-something years. Exhaustion seemed to ripple from him, his skin pale and wrinkled, like I’d never seen before. His blue windbreaker was practically drowning him, making him look tiny and frail. With a start, I realized how hard the revelation about our friends must be hitting him.
Sighing, Rebecca faced him. “The Black Knights will be watching for something like that. We have a better chance of getting away unscathed if we stick with a crowd and blend in.”
“What are they going to do?” I asked, half joking. “Come in here guns blazing and take us down?”
She gave me another pointed stare, her expression serious.
“Oh,” I replied, weakly. “Okay, then.”
“We need to get to our gate,” she said, an air of authority to her tone. “The Grand Master will be waiting for us. If we miss our flight, she won’t be very happy.”
Decidedly, she moved from the front of the airport toward the hall. I could see the security gate at the other end, a restaurant on each side. There was no crowd, like she had insinuated. In fact, there weren’t many people, which was to be expected. There was hardly ever anyone here, especially at this time of night. It was a small airport, in a small town. The only reason a plane would even land here was because of our healthy tourist season—which was not going on currently.
Glancing at my ticket, I saw our flight wouldn’t be leaving for another five hours. Why was she so worried about missing it?
My face paled, and I rushed to catch up with her. Did she think we would be safer after passing the TSA? Was she trying to hurry us along because we were in more danger than I realized?
Suspicion filled me and I tried to covertly glance around, secretly wondering if the three people within my sight were undercover Black Knights. After a beat, I shook myself. Here I was, having received all this information, and I was already losing my mind over it. I’d always thought, if I was ever faced with something shocking or extraordinary, I would be smooth and calm. Like an action hero. I’d be the guy who knew what to do, saved the day,
and got the girl. It would be some big screen adventure.
Apparently, I was more like the damsel in distress.
My attention returned to Rebecca, watching as she passed the first security check point without issue. She didn’t watch as I stepped forward, handing my ticket and license to the agent. In fact, everything about her seemed cool and collected. She’d been that way the entire evening, bursting in with her knowledge and plans, bending Scott and I to her will with only a few words.
Like the hero of an action movie.
Snorting, I continued to follow. Of course, I was the damsel in distress. Rebecca O’Rourke had all the makings of a hero in disguise.
The Mansion on O Street was not particularly stunning, on the outside, at least. If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve assumed it was a few normal townhouses, on a pretty street in the nation’s capital. There was nothing to suggest that the entire row of brick buildings was all interconnected, or that there were more than one hundred rooms residing together, only a few steps from the street. It was both magnificent and underwhelming at the same time.
“Try not to get lost once you’re inside,” Rebecca ordered as she stepped out of the black town car that had been waiting for us at the airport. She straightened her jacket and ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it. For the first time, I had the impression she was nervous, her gaze darting over the long façade in front of us with trepidation.
“There’s quite a bit of history hiding behind those walls,” Scott said thoughtfully, staring at the structure with the same sort of discomfort. “If there’s a silver lining to our situation, I suppose that’s it. You’ll enjoy seeing the artifacts they’ve collected, Eric.”
Staring at them both quizzically, I shook my head and then glanced at the mansion once more. Why did they seem to not like it—especially Rebecca?
Stolen Away : A Time Travel Romance (The Swept Away Saga Book 4) Page 1