“William!” Elizabeth screamed.
It happened so fast. One moment, Alexander held her captive, the next, the arm around her throat went slack, and Alexander dropped to a pile at her feet. For several heartbeats, she expected Will to collapse, too, but he didn’t.
She screamed and ran into her husband’s arms to sob on his shoulder. She wept so hard, in fact, that she soaked his shirt through in a matter of seconds.
Clunk. Will’s pistol hit the stone tiles. He tightened his arms, shushing her cries. “It’s over, Elizabeth. He won’t hurt you again, and I’m fine. He missed.” Will stroked her hair.
“I’m aware, now.” She patted his chest and cried harder.
“Easy there. I thought you wanted me around.”
Doesn’t he get it? She sniffed and pulled away. “That’s not why I’m crying. I thought for sure he’d kill you this time, and I didn’t know what I’d do without you. I’m relieved he had a slower draw. At first, I thought you were hit. I didn’t know what I’d do if you died. These are happy tears of relief.”
He lifted her chin with one finger, tilting her face to his. “I told you I’m not going anywhere, past, present, or future. This thing between us is forever.” He kissed her. The past and the future no longer mattered. From that point forward, she’d live for the now.
Will scratched his head and stared at the shattered skull, the very one they needed if they were to travel to the past, the same relic Alexander’s stray bullet had struck and destroyed. “Shit. That might complicate our trip back to see your father.” He stooped and collected the larger fragments, dropping them into his pack. “Maybe there’s another. Or perhaps we can glue…?”
“No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I can feel it. I’m meant to stay here in this time with you. “And, for some strange reason, I know everything in the past will be okay, just as it will be here, now. Dr. Davidson will get word to my father.”
Will grabbed both her hands and gave them a squeeze, rising to stand. “We have the journal we found on Alexander’s body. We can use that to find another way.”
“Or we can let it go. The portals are dangerous. If the wrong person finds them again, it could have horrible consequences for the future or the past. Leave it alone. For me.”
“Very well. Let’s see what the future holds.”
He gripped her hand, and, together, they made their way out of the ruins, leaving behind the shattered past.
When they arrived at their campsite, Elizabeth ran for the tent and found her pack. She rummaged around, finally finding what she sought. Had she vanished from the past as Will’s grandfather had warned could happen? Would her family remember her? Had she even existed? She pulled the photograph out and stared at it, unable to say anything. She swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears.
“Hey, are you all right?” Will came up beside her.
“Look. It’s changed again.”
“How did you know it changed before?”
“When you left the room to get supplies after we were married, I kind of went through your things. There was so much I didn’t know about you, and I thought it would help me to get to know you better. Instead, I found this photo with my image gone. I remember the day we took it, and I know I was standing right there.” She pointed. “My wanting to go back was about more than returning to say good-bye, Will. I feared I’d cease to exist in both times, and I knew we had to do something.” She leaned into Will, letting him embrace her. It meant so much. She didn’t have to leave him. She could stay. But somehow, she could also go home. The picture didn’t lie. “The photo is different.” She looked up and smiled. “We did it—fixed the past.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Look.”
She handed the picture over to Will, watching his reaction when he looked at it. In the old tintype, Will stood next to her, gazing down with love. Will’s grandfather had his arm wrapped around a very pregnant woman. Elizabeth’s father, the guides, all were present except one. Nowhere in the picture could he find Alexander. Slowly, a grin spread across Will’s face. “You know what this means, baby?”
“Alexander is really gone. We don’t have to leave each other, and....” Elizabeth poked at the picture. “Did you see what I’m holding in the picture?”
Will squinted at the image. “Jesus, that’s the—”
“Skull.”
Henry Dodge ducked into their tent and held the subject of discussion out for them to take. Will stared at it, not moving to accept it.
“Daddy,” Elizabeth gasped.
“As long as you’re not in the ruins or touching one of the tiles, it doesn’t work.” Henry placed it in Will’s hands. “We’ve discovered several places all over the world where you can find hidden doors. William is creating a map.”
Elizabeth yelped and jumped into her father’s arms. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Good Lord, daughter. What in God’s name are you wearing?” He put her away from him and grabbed a blanket off the cot, wrapping her in it before turning to glare at her husband. “Or should I say not wearing?”
“What women in the future wear, father. William is my husband. There’s nothing inappropriate going on. How did you…?”
“Doctor Davidson explained what happened, came and found me in Texas, gave me the skull, and later brought me to the ruins. At first, I thought he’d lost his mind until his wife showed me a picture of the future in which she was serving as a doctor in South America and providing treatment to impoverished villagers. She’d met him near the ruins. Alexander dropped dead in prison a few months ago. I figured he’d died in the future and thought it best to try to find you to make sure you were okay and let you know it’s safe to come home.” He smiled. “But I have a feeling you’ve got a new home now.”
“I want to stay here in this time with my husband.” She turned to Will, who nodded. “But now that we have the skull, we can come home for holidays—or at least if that picture doesn’t lie, we can.”
Will stepped forward and handed the photo to her father. “Or for an expedition or two.”
Henry glanced at it and laughed. “I’m not surprised to see this. Elizabeth nagged me for months to go on the first trip and ignored my every denial.” He clapped Will on the back. “Now, the only thing that needs to be done is to throw a proper wedding to explain her absence and put the family at ease about her disappearance. I want to give my daughter away—officially—and get you on the road to making me some grandbabies.”
Elizabeth hid her smile. That didn’t sound so bad.
Will reached out and pulled her close. “What do you say? Should we get started on the next generation?”
“That, Mr. Davidson, would be my pleasure.”
And they lived happily forever after.
~A Note from D.L.~
Once upon a time, an author drew a Grimm’s fairytale for the Beyond Fairytale Challenge. The Singing Bone wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d had dreams of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, dancing princesses and frog princes. She planned for tales of wolves and red-caped maidens, a lovely ladies with hair she dropped out of a tower for her hero to climb and rescue her. Of enchanted mirrors and wicked queens, with plans foiled by handsome huntsmen. Oh she dreamed big dreams and then she pulled...The Singing Bone. She didn’t expect something so dark, wicked and ugly for a challenge story. It didn’t have romance or a happy ending, but was more of a tale of greed and fratricide.
How does one turn that into a love story, she cried? She’d challenged all the authors in this series to do just that when she’d assigned them a tale, and knew she could not fail. Many had cried mercy, and she’d not heard their pleas, but giggled and clapped her hands with glee. So, she sat down, picked the meat off the proverbial bone, and twisted Grimm’s story here and there. Slowly but surely a virgin lady and lawman emerged.
Well, with a little imagination, some great editors and beta readers, I think I’ve managed to give you something a little different than The Sing
ing Bone, and if you enjoyed this tale, I hope you’ll check out the other stories in the Beyond Fairytales line, where each author has put their own unique spin on their challenge.
And they lived happily, ever after.
http://www.authordljackson.com
Also from Decadent Publishing
www.decadentpublishing.com
Black Hills Desperado
“A bank that’s never been robbed. There’s a first time for everything.”
State-of-the-art security. Armed rent-a-cops stationed on either side of the double doors. A busy street making a speedy getaway difficult. A lot of excellent reasons for Xio Davis get back in her Beemer and get out of Dodge.
None good enough to deter her from a challenge.
The two men who’d ridden with her climbed out. The bigger of the pair, Juan, rolled his shoulders before reaching into the cab for a ski mask and weapon, then passing it off to Miguel. “Catch.” He grabbed another and tossed it over the roof to her.
She caught it, slammed a full magazine home, and tucked it under her duster. With a wink, she retrieved her Day of the Dead mask from a recent celebration. “Okay, boys. Let’s break their lucky streak.”
Diego gave her the freedom to do whatever she wanted these days, as long as she kept his bed warm, and whenever she left his hacienda, she remembered to take her escorts with her. Maybe it was his way of keeping his eye on her—or on his money. Whatever the reason, she didn’t like it, so Xio kept the boys too busy to stick their noses in her personal business. Too busy to get close to the truth.
He didn’t smack her around or pass her among his friends and associates. And his men had long ago learned to respect her personal space. After one of his new hires had groped her, the man had lost a couple fingers and ended up in a body cast. Diego didn’t have to say a word or do anything to intervene. She’d policed her own problems.
Her boyfriend had grown busy with cartel business and that suited her fine. Never present, all the better. They didn’t love each other, but had an understanding. He provided for her, protected her when she needed it. She scratched his itch and spent his money.
But life had grown dull. Triggered by a botched bank robbery in El Paso, a restlessness had begun to swell inside her. Why, after all these years, she didn’t know, but it was there, a constant reminder she’d shackled her true nature in her quest to be free.
Her wolf constantly paced in her consciousness. Xio found herself unable to settle, shift, or run in the wilds as her inner beast demanded. Not because she physically couldn’t but because outside forces conspired against her. That was what happened when you lived with humans.
Wolf—dog—it didn’t matter. All made great sausage for hungry families in the villages surrounding the Sanchez ranch, and it was a risk she hadn’t taken in the ten years’ time since she’d almost ended up in a taco on some family’s dinner table.
She didn’t want to be in Mexico, and she didn’t want to be with Diego anymore, but she really didn’t have a choice or anywhere else to go. Hence, the reason she’d crossed the border for this small amusement. Perhaps she could get some of the pent-up energy out. Open a valve and vent.
Speaking of which….
Xio pulled the mask over her eyes and strode through the front doors of the bank. Her two team members flanked her.
No one seemed to notice them yet. Not very observant for a bank that claimed to have a robbery-free record. Deciding to wake them all up, she yanked an AKS-762 assault rifle—with a custom stock and barrel that catered to her size—from under her canvas duster and fired several rounds into the ceiling. Chunks of plaster rained down on the patrons in the lobby. Multiple people screamed and several of the customers hit the floor before she needed to provide them with instruction. Conversely, not everyone appeared to be a rocket scientist. Not a problem. She had great communication skills and hearing protection in her ears.
Xio fired a second time, bringing down more of the ceiling. She pointed at the floor. “On your bellies, ladies and gentlemen.” As though doing the “wave” at a sporting event, they dropped.
She strolled to the front of bank, kicked over one of the posts holding a velvet rope, and stepped over it. She’d never been patient enough to wait in line and wasn’t about to run their little maze now.
Xio removed her earplugs and tuned in with her wolf hearing, listening for anyone who might want to be a hero. Not a peep—some crying, but that was par for the course.
Not a daredevil in the bunch.
She eyed the staff on the floor. The one thing all bankers feared was a robber who jumped the teller line, and she was about to become their worst nightmare. They’d taken classes, trained for robberies, all bank staff did—and what did their security specialists warn them about? Her—joining them behind the counter, up close and personal, with a loaded weapon.
“Palms on the floor and your ankles crossed. I haven’t got all day.”
She stopped at one of the windows and without the use of her hands, jumped up on the marble countertop. At five feet two, the feat should have been impossible for a human female of her stature, but she wasn’t completely human—and impossible wasn’t in her vocabulary. In fact, that was why she’d come here, chosen this robbery-proof bank. It was a matter of honor, and a little about her ego. The branch had never been successfully robbed, and she’d decided to change that.
It was Wednesday, the day after their big shipment came in, and the third of the month, when a large majority of seniors got their Social Security checks. Prime for the picking. The setup couldn’t be any sweeter.
She cocked her head and listened for sirens in the distance. Five minutes out, if her hearing served correct. “Here’s how we are going to do this. When I tap you on the shoulder, you get up and fill the backpack with cash. No bait bills. I can tell what they are, so don’t fuck with me.” She hopped off the counter and behind the teller line, nudging the first person there with the flash suppressor on the end of her weapon. “Move.”
With tears in her eyes, the teller staggered to her feet, blubbering something about children at home. Over the last ten years, Xio had heard every story imaginable, and the young woman’s tale did little to change what she planned to do. No, she’d never killed anyone, nor did she intend to start today, but they didn’t know that.
“Save the speech and stuff the bag.” She shoved the backpack into the blonde’s hands. “Now.”
The young woman pulled the drawer open and grabbed handfuls of cash, leaving the bait bill in the till as instructed. Xio didn’t need to see the special ultraviolet ink on it to know what it was. Her wolf could smell that it had been handled a multitude of times by the same person. Once the teller finished, Xio shoved her back to the floor and nudged the next. “Your turn.”
All followed instruction, until she reached the last person, a man. Something about him raised her hackles. She should have listened to the warning, but there were still two minutes left and she’d yet to empty the commercial drawer, where they kept the big money. Greed won over instinct, and Xio toed him with her combat boot. “Up, big boy.”
And wasn’t that understatement of the year? As he stood, she realized he had to be at least six feet four, dwarfing her tiny frame. He didn’t look like your typical banker, at least not any she’d dealt with in the past, and he sure as hell didn’t smell like a banker.
Wolf. Shit.
He looked her in the eyes, holding her gaze for a few seconds, making her trigger-finger itch. She wore a mask from a recent Day of the Dead celebration and had salted her words with a Spanish accent, so unless he could pick out her eyes in a lineup, he wouldn’t be able to identify her.
Regardless, she found his action brazen, considering she’d already fired several rounds, though not enough he’d think her magazine empty. None of the others so much as looked at her. This one had the balls to take a mental snapshot that would help a sketch artist. The last thing she needed. There was also one other thing missing. Fear.
The feeling prodding her before roared to life. Cop. Ah, that’s the reason his scent had seemed so familiar. Double shit. Not only was he a cop, but they’d crossed paths before. This was the man, or should she say wolf, who had been on her trail for months, since her gang had slipped up in El Paso. Lord knew she’d tried to ditch him.
Once a wolf got a scent of his prey, he didn’t back down. Things had just gone from bad to worse. She wasn’t sure what pack he was from. More than likely the El Paso Cazador in Southern Texas. Wolves didn’t tend to stray too far from their territories, not higher-ranking pack members, anyway. Something told her he was up there in the group, a Beta, if not an Alpha. The stench of authority clung to him.
Wolf or not, one thing was for certain. He wasn’t here to administer pack law. Suddenly nervous—something that never happened to her—Xio stepped back to put space between them.
She’d walked them into a trap, and if what she saw in the man’s eyes was correct, a carefully orchestrated one. Her only advantage was that she still had a loaded assault rifle. “We need to leave. Now,” she called out to her crew, who were supposed to be watching the customers in the lobby.
No sound. No confirmation they’d heard her. Not good. She couldn’t smell them, but that didn’t mean anything. They could be near an air-conditioning vent or fresh-air exchange. Wouldn’t be the first time it’d happened. She chanced a glance back to see what they were doing, and saw no sign of them. Shit! They’d either bailed, left her to take the fall, or they’d already been apprehended while she’d been preoccupied with cleaning out the teller stations.
As she turned to address the cop, her weapon was wrenched away and the butt caught her in the jaw. Xio dropped like a bag of rocks. Her wolf wasn’t helping her out of this one. That was what she got for letting her ego get involved.
“Good morning, Miss Davis. Let me introduce myself. I’m Special Agent Marcus Cazador of the FBI. Didn’t anyone ever tell you banks are most often robbed within the first few minutes of opening? We figured you’d be here, after the invitation we’d extended. Safest bank in Texas. I can see you liked the billboard at the port of entry. You and I have a lot to talk about, but business first.”
The Willfully Wedded Virgin (Beyond Fairytales) Page 12