by ML Guida
She gritted her teeth. “Excuse me? I havenot been drinking.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Theo stepped in between the boys and her, his large muscular form forcing her to move aside. It was as if he were trying to put distance between her and them. Like he thought she was dangerous.
She pressed her other hand down her wrinkled clothes, then ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “You don’t have to look at me like that.” She scowled. “I wasn’t going to hurt them. They just wanted to look at the sword.”
In a flash, he snatched the sword out of her hand, nearly twisting her wrist.
“I’ll take that.”
“What are you doing?”
“You need to come with me, madam, for assaulting a police officer and armed robbery.”
He tilted his hat up off his forehead, and her heart seized. He stared at her with eerie gold eyes–just like Leif’s. They burned brighter than the sun. No, it had to be a coincidence. He couldn’t be a dragon shifter. She couldn’t take another surprise.
Despite his being twice as tall as she and twice as muscular, she widened her stance and gave him her best pirate growl. “You’re mad. I haven’t assaulted anyone.”
“I didn’t imagine it,” he quipped.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know your name. Only that you’re rude and overpowering and accusing me of being a sot.”
“What’s a sot?” Jonah asked.
“A drunk,” Theo said. “I’m the sheriff of Magic, New Mexico. And you are wanted for breaking and entering and second- degree robbery.”
“What? I haven’t done anything.”
He clasped her arm. “If you’ll come with me, miss–”
“No.” She jerked her arm free. “I didn’t do anything. I don’t go around breaking into–” She frowned. “By the way, who’s house did I break into?”
“It wasn’t a house. It was a business–Pandora’s Box.”
“Pandora got robbed?” Jonah whistled and shook his head. “Cé is going to be so mad. I wouldn’t want to be you.”
The fear in his squeaky voice sent an echo of fear down Gwen’s spine. Another overbearing male ready to control like every other man she’d met. Normally, she’d be ready for battle, but something was off inside her. ’Twas as if something was missing.
“Jonah, I haven’t done anything wrong.” She gave the man a fierce glare that would have sent her older brother preparing for battle. “Theo, right?”
The man nodded.
“I don’t know where I am. I’m tired. I’ve got sticky crap in my hair and–”
“You can argue all you want, Miss…?”
She glared. “Gwen Black. Gwendolyn Black, but you can address me as Miss Black.”
“You’re coming with me either willingly or unwillingly.” He reached behind him and pulled out a pair of silver manacles. “Choice is yours.”
She slowly moved her hand to her pistol, which was tucked behind her belt. “You’re not putting those on me, are you?”
He grabbed her hand, swung her around, then slapped both manacles on her wrist.
“You’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say and can will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”
“Eeww.” She didn’t even have time to cry out. She pulled on her wrists and arms, then twisted her waist.
“Just in case you’re wondering, these cuffs are magical, and no spells can break them.”
“Gosh, Theo,” Jonah said. “She didn’t do anything.”
Theo ushered her away from the boys. “Yes, she did. Now, you two go home.”
She dug her heels into the ground, but he easily lifted her by the arms and forced her to move.
“Unhand me.” Gwen tried to step on his feet, but she doubted it fazed him.
“Let’s go see Pandora,” Joseph said.
“Leave her alone,” Theo said behind her. “She’s upset enough and doesn’t need you two badgering her.”
His breath warmed the back of Gwen’s neck, and she inhaled the scent of a woody camp fire. It reminded her of the camp fires that she used to have with her family back in Scotland and only aggravated her loneliness of missing Grace and Leif. They’d all been born in Scotland but had been driven out by the war. Their family had supported the Jacobites, which had ended badly for them.
The boys shooting the ball at the wire basket stopped playing. Children huddled by their mothers as if they were afraid Gwen would turn into a monster. Hushed whispers echoed around her. Definitely not the warmest place in the word.
Theo didn’t offer an explanation to the startled visitors in the park. No doubt they were thinking the very worst of her. She actually missed Jonah and Joseph, because they’d actually talked to her and hadn’t treated her like a leper.
But then the demon who’d sent her here wasn’t a saint.
Theo led her to a silver carriage with a big red light on top of it.
She frowned. “How does that silver carriage move?”
He looked at her strangely. “You don’t know what this is, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Shit, here we go again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind.” He opened the door. “Get in. Be careful to watch your head.”
Not having much choice, Gwen settled into the car. Unlike the carriages back home, there was no scent of horse hair or manure. Instead, it smelled of leather. ’Twas warm and clean.
Theo stuck keys into a hole next to a wheel and the carriage growled. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Don’t worry. I just started the engine. So, do you know Cé Jackman?”
He pulled out of the parking lot, and it was so smooth that she thought the ride could lure her to sleep. She should be fighting to escape, but ’twas as if she’d used up her strength to fight. She yawned. “No. Jonah and Joseph asked me about him. Who is he?”
“A pirate from the seventeenth century thrown here by a time spider.”
Her jaw went slack. The weariness slapped away. She couldn’t talk, and her heart raced a knot a minute. “So, did I! Where is he? I need to talk to him!”
“Out of town on a business trip. When he arrived, he didn’t commit any crimes–unlike you.”
The contempt in his voice was like a cold slap across her pride. If her hands weren’t bound behind her back, she’d slap his smug face. “I have not committed any crimes. Why do you keep saying this?”
“Because I have proof. I have five videotapes of you in five different stores stealing money, jewels, booze, and clothes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do I look like I’ve stolen any jewelry or clothes? Or do you think I have them stashed somewhere, so I can walk around like Medusa?” She opened her mouth then shut it. “What’s a videotape?”
“I’ll show you when we get there.”
“That’s right. I forgot. Guilty until you’re proven innocent.”
“No, you’re innocent until proven guilty, but unfortunately for you, I have proof.”
“No, you don’t. I was passed out in the desert and just recently came to. You can ask the woman who found me.”
He glanced in a rearview mirror. “What woman?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me her name.”
“What did she look like?”
“She had dark red hair and a smirk that would irritate the devil.”
He groaned. “Anything else?”
“She said something strange. My mind’s fuzzy, but she said something like to tell the sheriff to return what was hers or by the next full moon my other half will die.”
He swore softly under his breath.
Uneasiness nested in Gwen’s heart. “You know who she is, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know her. She’s a witch, meaner than a bull with its balls tie
d in a knot.”
The image popped into her head. Maybe she was over tired, but she burst out laughing.
Theo actually grinned. “What’s so funny?”
“Why would anyone do that to a bull?”
“Bull riders who have tiny feet.”
“Why would tiny feet mean anything?”
This time, Theo chuckled. “That one, my dear, you’ll have to figure out.”
Gwen was too tired to figure out the riddle and laid her head on the back of the seat. She just wanted to rest her eyes for a minute, but she fell fast asleep. The next thing she knew, Theo was gently shaking her shoulder.
“Wake up, Gwen. We’re here.”
She shook her head. “Where?”
“My jail.”
Fear crept into her, and all she could think about was the White Tower of London and how many people had died, hopeless. The tales of torture made even the stoutest soldier consider taking his own life rather than endure the endless days in misery. The White Tower had a moat, and once people passed through the gate, they never returned.
But like all the other buildings, this one was adobe and didn’t have the looming presence. But what did she know? For all she knew, it could be worse than the Tower.
Chapter Seven
Theo helped Gwen out of the car and clasped her arm to lead her into the jail. His hand tingled where he touched her flesh. His heart pounded faster than it had in his last marathon. He broke out in a hot sweat as if the dragon inside him was exhaling fire. This was crazy. She should be the one sweating in fear–not him.
But he couldn’t get that damn dream out of his head. He fought the urge to turn her around and kiss her. No. He wanted to do more than just kiss her.
Martin stopped typing and glanced up. Some of his wrapping hung off his face, revealing a black emptiness where his nose and eyes should have been. When Gwen saw him, she froze, and Theo bumped into her, setting off whole new sensations.
“He’s a…a…” she stammered.
“Mummy,” Martin finished. “For today anyway.” He looked at Theo. “She’s the one?”
“Obviously.” He pulled on Gwen’s arm. “He won’t hurt you. He’s my deputy.”
She glanced over her head. “What is he?”
Martin laughed and waved, his fingers slowly decomposing.
“A skin changer. He can take any form he pleases, and for some odd reason, he decided to be a mummy today. Probably watched a mummy movie last night.”
“Where are you taking me?” Gwen slowed her steps and pulled on her arm, as if she could get free.
“To an interrogation room.”
Her lower lip trembled, and the spunkiness in her eyes was gone. He opened the door with his keys and turned on the light to a sterile room with a table and two chairs.
She blinked and looked at him warily. “You’re not going to torture me?”
“Excuse me? We don’t torture prisoners. It’s against the law.” Unless she meant him doing wicked things to her that would have her scream his name in passion.
She didn’t answer him, and by the look of her, she wasn’t convinced, and obviously kissing was totally out of the question. He unlocked her handcuffs, but then chained one hand to the table.
“Afraid I’ll run?”
“Yes, I have to get my laptop. Stay here.”
She pulled on her wrist. “Like I could leave if I wanted to.”
Ignoring her sarcasm, he quickly went to retrieve his laptop. The queen had said she wouldn’t be whole, which didn’t make any sense. She needed to stay here for her own good. She couldn’t escape, even if she could. She’d have to get past Martin, and he seemed to scare the hell out of her.
He quietly opened the door. She hadn’t heard him. She was too busy trying to pull her wrist through the handcuff that had left ugly scratches on her flesh.
“You keep doing that, and you’re liable to draw blood.”
She jumped and banged her knee on the table. “I was…”
“Trying to escape. You wouldn’t get far.”
“Yes, I would.”
He opened his laptop.
“You can open a book?”
He didn’t have time to explain technology and brought up the first video of her breaking into Pandora’s store. There was no doubt it was Gwen. She had the same dark curly hair, same green eyes, and same clothes from her shirt to her boots.
“That’s not me,” she blurted.
He leaned back in his chair. “You have a twin?”
His voice drawled.
“Actually, I do.”
“What?” He sat straighter.
“But she’s not here. She’s safe on Tortuga.” Her voice cracked and sadness settled in her eyes.
“Back in the seventeenth century?”
“How did you know?” she asked suspiciously.
“Cè Jackman.”
“Right, I forgot. My memory’s a little foggy. I don’t know why. You just told me he was here.”
She looked so confused that he had to stop himself from taking her in his arms and comforting her. But he was a sheriff, not a love-sick college student. “If it’s not your sister, then who is it?”
The confusion vanished. “I don’t know. But ’tis not me.” She spat out every fiery word.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I don’t know what kind of magic your using–”
“Magic?” He gestured at the screen. “This isn’t magic. It’s technology.” Wishing they had meet on a different circumstance instead of the lawman versus criminal, he looked at her hard. “There’s no way for you to refute the evidence.”
“Then you’re not looking at this right. Her hair is absolutely perfect.” She lifted her thick strand. “See mine is filled with this sticky spider shite.”
He inspected her head. Her hair was definitely matted with a silvery substance, which he cursed himself for not noticing. He was a seasoned lawman, but his libido was blinding him.
“None of her clothes are torn, either.”
“But that could be because you got drunk somewhere.”
“Getting drunk would not explain the sticky strands in my hair. Unless, of course, you think everyone who downs a bottle of rum also gets stuck in spider webs.”
Theo cast his graze over Gwen. Once again, she was right. Her beautiful eyes were tired, but not bloodshot like she’d gone on a binge. Her pants and shirt had tears and mud while the woman in the video didn’t have a smudge of dirt on her boots. Something wasn’t meshing. Uneasiness swept over him. This would answer the riddle of her not being whole.
But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t let her go free, either. Maybe she was wearing a disguise, but the haunting question remained–what if she wasn’t? There were too many unanswered questions.
“Are you listening to me, Sheriff?”
“You’re going to need more than tangled hair and torn clothes to convince me.”
“Aye, I am beginning to see this. So, what are you going to do? Are you going to talk to that woman?”
That was the first thing he was going to do, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. The last thing he needed was for Gwen to tangle with Hera. He unlocked her manacle. “You’re going to spend the night tonight in jail.”
She glared but didn’t argue. Fear had crept back into her eyes. He led her to a cell and unlocked it. She sat on the bench and leaned her head against the wall.
“I’ll have Martin bring you some food.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at the ceiling. She didn’t beg or cry but projected a stony wall that made Theo uneasy.
Martin was drinking a cup coffee next to the copy machine. “Did she admit?”
“No. Bring Gwen some dinner.”
“Where are you going?”
“To talk to Hera.”
“Do you need back up?”
“Yeah, I’ll pick up Topper.”
Martin raised his cup. “Good luck. You’re goin
g to need it.”
***
Theo and Topper drove to Hera’s house, which was located up on a bluff that looked down on Magic. He thought it was Hera’s way of looking down on the inhabitants.
He glanced at Topper, whose hair had grown back. She’d changed it to a lovely shade of purple and had on a white blouse and a skirt that any lawyer would wear to court.
“Thanks for agreeing to come.”
Topper smiled. “Don’t thank me. It will do me good to see Hera stew in her juices.”
He smirked. “I’ll bet.”
Hera was playing with fire since Topper was head of the witches’ council and very influential.
When they pulled up, Hera was sitting on her porch, playing with her phone. She looked up, then stuck her phone in her back pocket. She sauntered over. Her short shorts revealed long legs, and her midriff showed over the diamond piercing in her belly button. Most men would be tongue tied around her, but it was the woman locked in his jail that put his tongue into knots.
“Ready for this?” Topper asked as she drew her wand out of her purse. “Hera’s a crafty one.”
“You’re telling me. Let’s roll.”
Topper and he got out of the car at the same time.
“Topper and my favorite lawman, what brings you to my little abode? Planning on stealing something else, Sheriff.”
Theo took off his sunglasses. “We need to talk.”
“Afraid are you, Sheriff?” She glanced over at Topper. “You had to bring the big guns.”
“Hera, what have you done?” Topper asked. “Tell the truth, and the council might go easy on you. Lie, and you’ll be treated harshly.”
Hera turned away from Topper and focused on Theo. “First, tell me what it is you want, Sheriff?”
“I have a woman locked up in my jail.”
She put her hands on her hips as she watched him warily. “So, what does that have to do with me?”
“She’s says a time spider flung her through time and she landed here. She’s a pirate. Does this sound familiar?”
Hera shrugged. “Maybe.”
Topper scowled. “Hera, don’t play games. Do you know anything about this woman in his jail?”
“You’re such a party-pooper, Topper. Do you remember the last time we talked, dragon-boy?”