Twice Upon a Time

by Olivia Cunning

  The women of the harem talked Farima into sharing tales of her sisters. Farima had travelled to many distant lands to visit them. It seemed they had all been married off for some sort of political gain in honor of their father’s wishes. Reece felt a stirring within Nasir’s heart. Nasir’s feelings for Farima were strong and true, yet he too saw the importance of her pairing with Ashar. She was not an ordinary woman. She had been born into a particular life and like Nasir she had accepted it.

  The camaraderie between the women blossomed and bloomed as they shared stories of how they came to wed Ashar. Al iances had been forged. Wars avoided. Did Ashar really have feelings for Farima or was the attention paid to her due to what she represented? The daughter of a sultan was a prize to be coveted and cherished if attained.

  A late morning meal was brought to the room and the sharing of food was added to the excited talk between the women. Khadija paid a brief visit. She’d come to remind the women of their duties, but when she saw how well they were getting along with Farima, she placed a gentle hand on the back of her newest daughter-in-law’s head and said, “I think we’ll take a holiday today. To celebrate Farima’s addition to the harem.” If the women had been hesitant to like Farima before, that proclamation sealed her fate as their favorite person of the day. Or at least the hour.

  That all changed when Roxelana entered the pavilion and strode across the intricately-patterned tile floor to glare at Farima. “What do you think you are doing? That is my place. I demand you move at once.”

  The rest of the harem scurried away from the cushions where Farima remained comfortably reclined. The women huddled against the walls—not speaking, not making eye contact.

  Farima met Roxelana’s eyes evenly and said, “Your place is no longer assured, my lady. There’s a new Kadin in this harem. I might not be Ashar’s first wife, but I am his most superior one.”

  At the look of outrage on Roxelana’s beautiful face, Reece’s hand returned to the hilt of his sword.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “How dare you?” Roxelana sputtered. Lara expected flames to shoot from the woman’s nostrils at any moment. “How dare you?”

  “Oh, I dare, Roxelana. You’ve been allowed to be a tyrant in this harem for far too long. I am not afraid of you. Ashar will have you stripped of clothes and staked out in the desert sun to bake.”

  Roxelana smirked. “I spoke to Ashar last night and again this morning. I have convinced him that I am completely innocent of any wrong doing.” Behind Roxelana, Lara caught sight of Ashar standing in the doorway. His face lit up when his searching gaze found her seated among the plush cushions in the center of the room. Nasir pressed a finger to his lips to stop him from alerting Roxelana to his presence.

  “I’m not the first of Ashar’s wives you’ve targeted,” Lara said to Roxelana. “I know what you did to Safiye’s mother. Her death was not due to illness. You slowly poisoned her to death, just as you planned to poison me.”

  “You have no proof.”

  Lara could hear Safiye’s soft sobs against the shoulder of one of the women watching the confrontation from against a wall.

  “I do have proof. I was able to save some of the food your servant left for me yesterday. While Nasir was chasing him down and was later slashed by the same man, I hid away some of the evidence.” She was total y bluffing, but Roxelana had no way of knowing that. “And then I fed it to little gray dog that keeps the vermin away from the pantry. The food killed that poor little dog. Food that you meant for me.” Roxelana eyes brightened. “You lie! I killed that dog and you know it. You watched me break its neck when I told you that if you wanted to live, you’d better leave.”

  “That’s right,” Lara said. “How could I have forgotten such cruelty? Or how you convinced Maisha that you’d do the same to me if she didn’t take the fall for you.”

  “She’s an idiot. She’ll do anything to save her princess.” Roxelana rol ed her eyes.

  “She won’t do you much good once Ashar has her head lopped off, now will she?”

  “Roxelana,” Ashar said, his voice deep and commanding. “I need to speak with you.

  Now! And I will have no more of your lies, woman. The truth this time.” All the blood drained from Roxelana’s face. Trembling she turned to face her husband. Lara was glad she wasn’t the one who’d angered him. A trickle of fear raced down her spine as Ashar turned on his heel and stalked from the room. Roxelana followed. “Please, my husband. Listen to me. It’s not what you think. I would never—”

  “I have heard enough,” he bellowed. “From your own lying lips.”

  “But Ashar, I love you. Don’t you see? Everything I do, I do it out of love.”

  “That speech won’t save you this time, Roxelana. I’ve seen the black heart concealed by that beautiful bosom. You will make a fool of me no more, woman.” Lara could hear her pleading with him through the corridor until eventually their voices faded into the distance. Lara glanced up at Reece and smiled. “Do you think that will help Maisha?”

  “I think you’re brilliant,” he said.

  Her smile brightened.

  “I also think you need something to relax you,” he said, his lips curled in a sexy smile. “A long bath. A thorough massage.”

  “Several orgasms?” she asked hopefully.

  “Naturally.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Reece held Lara’s naked body against him in the alcove where water poured down the high wall into the deep pool of water. He relished this time alone with her. He hoped their next leap was a little less dramatic. And in an unpopulated location with just the two of them. He really didn’t see that happening, but there’d never been a law against hoping.

  “Reece,” she murmured lethargically. Apparently, her three most recent orgasms had relaxed her as planned.

  “Hmm?”

  “I love you. I don’t think I tell you that often enough.”

  “If you said it non-stop for the rest of your life, it stil wouldn’t be often enough for me.”

  She chuckled. “You really are a sap.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Only for you.”

  “If we did get the other half of the amulet and could go anyplace and anytime we chose, where would you want to go?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t matter as long as you’re with me.”

  “Sap,” she accused again.

  “The stickiest. Keeps me stuck to you,” he said.

  She laughed. “You also tell lame jokes.”

  “So why do you love me?”

  “Because you’re a sap and tell lame jokes.”

  “And I’m a good kisser.”

  She lifted her head to look up at him and he lowered his head to kiss her. When he drew away, she smiled at him. “And you’re a good kisser.”

  “Where would you want to go?” he asked.

  “Ancient Egypt,” she said without hesitation.

  He should have guessed. Her thesis and her job both centered around that time and place. They’d met because she was interested in artifacts from that time.

  “If we ever get the other half of the amulet, that will be the first place we go,” he promised.

  “And then I want to return to our time and marry you in the future.” He stroked her hair, his heart panging in his chest. He needed to tel her about how her life had been sacrificed to activate the amulet. Their only future was in the past. He opened his mouth, the words on the tip of his tongue. She loved him. She’d forgive him for hiding the truth. She had to. She loved him. She’d said she loved him.

  “Lara,” he said. “I have to tell you something about the night you died.” She covered his lips with two fingers. “I don’t want the details,” she said.

  “But…” he murmured against her fingertips.

  A loud hum came from the amulet hanging from the leather cord around Reece’s neck. She smiled up at him with a look of anticipation. “Time to go,” she said.

  “Almost,” he agreed
as the humming grew louder. “You look eager.”

  “I can’t wait to see where we end up next, but you have to promise me something, Reece.”

  He wasn’t sure if he could keep a promise he made to her so he just lifted an eyebrow in question.

  “This leap we’re going to come up with a way to get the other half of the amulet from Carl.”

  “We’l think of something,” he agreed.

  “Reece, where the devil are you?” Carl cal ed from the bedroom. “You know you can’t run forever.”

  But he planned to. Reece began to recite the words of the incantation that would al ow him and Lara to leap to their next destination. Lara said it with him this time and he knew for certain that they were in this together.

  A loud splash came from near the pool steps. “I know you’re here somewhere,” Carl said. “I can hear the hum of the amulet.”

  Just as Carl rounded the corner of the alcove, Lara offered him a mischievous wave and the world slipped from beneath their feet. Slipping sideways through time in a rush of blurred colored and sounds, Reece tucked a finger beneath Lara’s chin and kissed her. One moment she was kissing him back, the next, she held a blade against his throat.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lara was straddling a man's waist, a long curved weapon in her hand was held to his throat. “You will pay for killing my brother,” she said in Japanese. Japanese?

  She was thrown backwards as the man scrambled to his feet. She lifted her weapon just in time to deflect the blow from a long-bladed sword. The Japanese man hesitated and then lowered his weapon. “Lara?”

  “Reece?”

  She sprang to her feet with limber precision, her weapon slashed outward of its own accord. “I will enjoy spilling your blood, you rat,” she spat angrily.

  Reece deflected her attack, but did not fight back. “Lara, why are you attacking me?”

  “I despise you,” she said. “You will die by my blade. Meet your ancestors in the afterlife, Kojiro-san.”

  “That is Kojiro-dono to you, Ninja wench,” a voice said from behind her. Before she could turn her attack on the new arrival, she was captured from behind, her arms forced painfully above her head with the man's arm locked behind her neck. “Should I snap her neck, Kojiro-dono, or would you prefer to do so yourself?”

  “Disarm her and release her,” the man she’d been attacking said in a deep, commanding voice.

  The weapon in her hand was wrenched free and she was tossed flat on her face on the woven mats in the room. The man put a knee in her back while he removed various weapons from her person. When he was finished, he hauled her to her feet by the back of her black shirt.

  “Let go of me,” she demanded. She kicked behind her, landing a solid blow in the man's knee. He grunted in pain but didn't fal . Instead, he grabbed her in the painful full nelson hold again.

  “Are you certain I should not just snap her neck?” the man asked Reece, erm, Kojiro.

  “Tenji-sama, I will deal with her myself,” Kojiro said in a cold voice. “Leave us.”

  “Do you want me to bind her?” Tenji asked.

  Kojiro sheathed his katana. “Yes, that would be acceptable.” Lara found herself slammed onto the straw mat again and her arms were tied behind her back at the wrists and the elbows. She struggled, but to no avail. The man was stronger than she and her stealth was of no use in this circumstance. It had gotten her into the enemy camp, but it didn't seem as though it would get her back out of it.

  And that was fine as long as she took out the samurai who killed her brother before she met her end.

  Tenji spoke to her in a growling whisper. “I'm not sure what an honorable samurai wants with a vile shinobi, but I'd guess you'll be wishing I snapped your neck when he's finished with you.”

  Lara whimpered. The man was none too gentle with her as he pul ed her back to her feet. He tied her ankles together so that she could walk, but could not kick, and then forced her down onto her knees in front of the imposing figure of Reece, who she was still seeing as the Japanese samurai, Kojiro. Her disgust over being in his presence was only overshadowed by her hatred for him.

  “Thank you, Tenji-sama. You may leave us now,” Kojiro said.

  Tenji bowed at the waist and stepped backwards before sliding open a door and disappearing from the small room. The room was sparsely furnished. A low wooden table sat in the center of the room with food, still steaming hot, at its center. Flat cushions were scattered around the table on the floor. Kojiro sat on one of the cushions and continued eating from a bowl with a pair of chopsticks.

  “It seems you interrupted my dining when you crashed through my wall,” he said.

  He pointed to one of the thin walls made of bamboo and paper. It had a human sized hole through it. “What is your name?”

  “I do not want my name to cross your vile lips,” she spat. Why couldn't Lara see Reece, and why was she so entrapped in this woman's thoughts, feelings and actions?

  “Then I will call you Ninja Whore. Do you like that name?” She shook her head.

  “What is your name? I will not ask again.”

  “Hana,” she said. Flower.

  “Hana?” Kojiro chuckled. “Too delicate a name for an assassin.” He paused reflectively. “Onihana seems more appropriate.”

  “Demon-flower?”

  “Yes. You’re more oni than hana. Though you do have the beauty of a delicate sakura blossom.”

  “Call me whatever you like. I hope you choke on your own tongue.” He chuckled again. “Excuse me while I finish my meal, Onihana-chan. I was about to eat when I was rudely interrupted by your sickle to my throat.” Her eyes narrowed. How dare he address her with such familiarity. -chan, indeed!

  “What do you want with me? Why didn't you just allow your man to kill me?” Kojiro's obsidian eyes bored into her. “I am not sure. My katana refused to end your life. By the code of Bushido, one must listen to his soul.” Samurai are strange creatures, she thought. Thinking their sword was their soul. “It did not refuse to end my brother's life.”

  He took a bite of his soba noodles, slurping noisily as he drew them into his mouth.

  He chewed, swallowed and continued to watch her thoughtful y.

  “It has never refused to kill before today. Perhaps if it wasn't such a rare occurrence, I would not feel so unsettled by this.” She frowned. This man made no sense. “What do you think it means?” He pointed at her with his chopsticks. “A red string connects your soul to mine.” Her eyes widened with shock. “You think I am your soul mate?” He nodded once and then moved more food to his mouth. For lack of anything better to do, she spat on the floor. His eyes narrowed. “Do not make me beat you so early in our acquaintance, Onihana. Rudeness will not be tolerated here.” Her mouth went dry, making it impossible to do what she really wanted to do, and that was spit on his floor again.

  “Tenji-sama,” Kojiro called.

  Tenji peaked into the room through the hole in the wall he was fixing. Kojiro pointed his chopstick in Hana’s direction. Tenji nodded and then disappeared from view. A few seconds later, he slid the door open and entered the room. “Yes, Kojiro-dono.”

  “The lady has made a mess on my floor,” he said, nodding to the drop of spittle on the floor mat. “Have her clean it up.”

  She thought she would have her hands untied so she could clean up her disrespectful mess, but a foot between the shoulder blades propelled her forward and she fell flat on her face on the mat.

  “Clean up your mess, Ninja wench,” Tenji said.

  She wheezed unpleasantly, having had the wind knocked out of her. Her mess was somewhere beneath her body, so she squirmed slightly, wishing she had her weapons so she could be spared this humiliation and bathe in the blood of these men instead of her own spittle. Tenji grabbed her by the back of her tunic and set her on her knees again. The spit was gone, lost somewhere on her clothing.

  “Does this please you, Kojiro-dono?” Tenji asked.

  “Yes,
thank you. That will be all for now,” Kojiro said and continued with his meal.

  Tenji bent close to Hana's ear and whispered, “When he is finished eating, I am certain Kojiro-dono will deal with your disrespect in his own way. I look forward to hearing your cries for mercy from my post outside the hole you made in his wall.” She jerked away from him and almost toppled herself onto the mat again. She regained her balance and sat on her heels. Tenji left the room once more, sliding the door shut behind him.

  Hana scanned the room, trying to be as subtle as possible as she looked for weapons to use against her purported soul mate. She could feel Kojiro's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. She didn't locate any obvious weapons, except the katana at Korjiro's side, but she could probably improvise a few just by breaking pieces from the wooden frames that surrounded the paper windows. A nice, sharp spike of wood could do the trick. She had to get loose.

  “Lara,” Reece said.

  She glanced up. She saw Reece's image for a few seconds, but he reverted to Kojiro almost at once. “I can't focus on you, Reece. Her feelings are too strong,” Lara said in English.

  “I'm having the same issue,” Reece said. “What a crazy situation these two are in.

  I'll try to remember it isn't you who is wishing my death.” She smiled at him. “I guess making love is out of the question.”

  “Do you want me, sweetheart?” Reece grinned, and then she was seeing Kojiro again. This was maddening.

  “I want you dead,” she spat in Japanese.

  “Of course.” He pointed at his bowl with his chopsticks. “Would you like some soba noodles?”

  Her stomach growled at the prospect of food, but she didn't want anything to do with this man or his strange notion of hospitality. “I would rather eat your still-beating heart.”

  “That is not on the menu.”