Chapter Four

 

Castle Questing in Northumbria

Home of the Baron Kilham, known as the Wolfe

 

Alaistair’s head snapped back. He touched his nose, turning his finger red. “That was na becomin’ of a lady.” He seized Holly’s wrist and pulled her to his chest, forcing her to look up into his eyes. “Where is my brother, witch?”

She was afraid he’d break her wrist. Maybe if she remained in calm, he would, too. She took a deep breath, ignoring the panic running around inside her like the Road Runner. “I am not a witch. I am a poor college student.” She looked around the room. “Where am I?”

“Yer at Questing Castle—home of William de Wolfe.”

“Why are you playing these games, Alastair?”

“I am na Alastair. I am Duncan. My brother disappeared through the same black hole ye came through. D’ye na see him?”

His desperation touched her, and she looked at him for the first time. He had a healing cut on his right cheek. Her heart leaped from her throat. Oh, my God! He was the knight she’d dreamed about! He had the same dark hair and the same sad green eyes and the same build. But what if this was a trick and he was Alastair? He held her wrist tightly, but he hadn’t hurt her. Back in Wrexham, Alastair had hurt her wrist, bringing tears to her eyes. He’d demanded she answer his question through torture, but talked to her as if she was frightened doe.

“I’m sorry. No, I didn’t.”

He hung his head, his dark hair falling across her face. Obviously, he cared for Alastair. Well, she guessed someone had to.

“I did see him elsewhere, though.”

Duncan jerked up his head. “Where?”

“At the Wrexham Museum. He was with Balthazar.”

“Who is?”

She looked at him and the other two who had been silently watching. What if she’d come through a time warp into the middle ages? These people were a superstitious lot, and angels and demons would not win her a seat at the knights’ round table.

“Please, tell me. He’s my brother. I have to find him. He’s in trouble.”

Duncan was a knight resorting to begging. Against her better judgment, she gave in to his pleading eyes, which would melt any woman’s heart. “Balthazar is a demon, and your brother works for him.”

Duncan’s green eyes turned stormy, then gold. He released her as if he abhorred her touch. “Ye lie. See, Wolfe, she practices black magic. She’s in league with Laird Brodie.”

She’d had enough of this charade. “Would you quit saying that? I don’t practice black magic. Your brother does.”

“Alastair is a dragon knight. Ye’ll na dishonor him, wench.” Duncan released a growl that iced her insides.

“Duncan, stop threatening her. I am Lady Jordan de Wolfe. I promise he’ll not hurt ye. ” The woman stepped out of the shadows and had a heavy Scottish accent. Her voice was kind and strong.

Oh, God. It was the woman from the painting hanging in Wrexham Museum—Lady Jordan de Wolfe. She was older, with silver gray hair in her blond tresses and laugh lines around her green eyes, but it was definitely her. Then the brooding man standing next to her had to be William de Wolfe. Shock stole Holly’s breath, and her mouth fell open wide.

“But, my lady, we donna know what she is. Dark magic is at work here.” Duncan crowded Holly against the wall, preventing all escape. “I tell you, she’s a witch.’

His cold breath jerked Holly back to reality. Duncan’s eyes held no mercy and promised death. She was in danger. She knew it by the terror that pulsed through her, branding her chest and stilling her heart.

If she didn’t do something, she’d be burned at the stake. It was useless to try and run around his great girth. She needed a distraction. With all her strength she slapped him across the cheek, leaving a red hand-print.

“That’s the last time you will hit me.”

She was afraid he was going to hit her and clenched her fists.

With amazing speed, he snatched one wrist, spun her around, then grabbed her other wrist, pinning her back against his chest. There was nowhere to go. She looked at the other grim knight. The Wolfe stepped out of the shadows. He looked like he was approaching his sixties, but he’d lost none of his masculinity. He had strands of silver running through his dark eyes, but his hazel-gold eyes demanded attention. This was a man used to being obeyed. She’d get no help from him.

The helplessness of the situation overwhelmed Holly—her parents’ death, Alastair and the demon’s threat, the time portal...—and now this. Unwanted tears welled inside her. She missed her mother so much. All she wanted was to feel her arms around her and have her say everything would be fine. Her father would tell jokes until she cried.

But they were gone. And she was stuck in the back-ass medieval times with a bully-of-a-knight restraining her tiniest movement. “Just let me go.” Her voice cracked, shattering into a million pieces, and she couldn’t hold back a sob. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be here. I want to go home. Please, don’t hurt me.”

Duncan released her wrists. She was gently turned around, and strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

“No one is goin’ to hurt ye, lass.”

She wasn’t going to fall for that line. She beat on his chest as hard as she could, but her struggles were useless.

Unlike Alastair, he hadn’t hurt her wrist. His grip had been firm and unyielding, but it hadn’t been painful. Duncan stroked the back of her hair like her mother had when she was a little girl. She laid her head against his chest and listened to his steady heart beat that calmed her erratic one. He smelled of mountain pines, reminding her of her parents’ cabin in Frisco, Colorado. Her fists relaxed, and she clenched his tabard and let the tears fall. She hated being weak, hated women who cried over a broken nail, but this was more than chipped polish.

He rubbed her back, slowly unwinding her tense muscles. He was a knight and had slashed down men in fierce battles, yet he was comforting her—something she hadn’t expected. She took a long deep breath and looked up into his handsome face.

He brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “D’ye feel better, lass?”

She sniffed. “I do. This was just a bit overwhelming, especially after losing my parents.” The same hollow feeling threatened to bring on the waterworks.

“How did yer parents die?”

“In a car accident.”

“What’s a car?”

The last thing Holly wanted to do was explain the evolution of mass transportation from medieval times to the twenty-first century. “Never mind. They were killed in a carriage accident.”

“I’m sorry for yer loss. ’Tis hard for someone so young to lose their parents.”

Guilt bore down on her at his kind words. Duncan had been surprisingly gentle with her for a medieval knight. She’d hit him twice. “Thank you. I’m sorry I hit you.”

“Donna worry, lass. I’ve suffered worse.” He gave her a grin that dried up her tears.

“Yeah, I bet. By the way, what century is this?”

“The year of Our Lord twelve sixty, my dear.” Lady Jordan smiled. “Does that help ye?”

“No, not really. At least now I know where I am, but have no idea how to go back to where I came from.” Her stomach shifted uneasily at the thought of being tossed back into the freezing portal again. She’d do it to get back home, even if it meant losing the most yummy knight she’d ever seen. Duncan wasn’t make-believe—he was real.

A brilliant white ball floated through the stone wall and hovered in the air. It slowly descended, illuminating the room like a thousand flickering candles.

“Stay behind me.” Duncan stepped in front of her, his large frame blocking her view.

The darkness fled, and Holly thought it actually squealed as if in pain. The air was lighter, and she could breathe.

“I suggest you release her, dragon knight.”

Holly recognized the strong voice. It was Raphael, and she didn’t know if she should jump for joy or curl up on the ground and quiver. She peered around Duncan’s massive arms. Raphael still looked like a kid barely old enough to drive.

“Duncan, change.” The Wolfe drew his sword and stepped in front of Lady Jordan.

Holly didn’t like the sound of the Wolfe’s tone. She had had enough of surprises and clasped Duncan’s arm. “Change to what?”

He lifted her chin. “I promise I willna hurt ye. Trust me.”

When people said that, it usually meant something bad was going to happen. Duncan was no different. He dropped his hand, then edged away from her. His face elongated into an angular point, and he opened his mouth revealing jagged teeth. Muscles contorted and stretched, shredding his tabard. The hauberk’s chains unraveled, and the gambeson ripped. Bones cracked and snapped. Enormous silver wings sprang from his back, and his skin changed from deep tan to fine silver. Long pointed horns extended from his head. Sharp talons replaced his hands and feet.

Holly’s head was spinning, and her breath dried up. Great, her chivalrous knight was a dragon. They didn’t exist. He had said to trust her. How could she trust a shape-shifter dragon? This was one too many jack-in-the-box surprises. She closed her eyes. This wasn’t real. Not real. Her mother had always said if she had a nightmare to think of a happy place and it would go away. She had a place, but she couldn’t think.

A menacing growl scared the flesh off her bones.

“Dragon, I have no intention of harming your damsel-in-distress.”

She slowly opened her eyes. The angel and dragon were walking around each other, seizing each other up. The dragon was a guard dog, refusing to let the angel anywhere near her. When the angel made a move to approach her, the dragon would block his path and gnash his teeth. Was Duncan protecting her?

On the other side of the room, the knight stood in front of the woman. With his strong presence, she wanted to rush over to him and hide, but she’d have to walk around Duncan’s twitching tail, and her body refused to peel off the wall.

The Wolfe lifted the sword off his shoulder. “I am William de Wolfe. Speak now, before I have you cut down.”

No fear crossed Raphael’s face, and he actually smiled. A white light glowed around him as if he were standing in the middle of a brilliant star. “I’m the Archangel Raphael. And I have come to offer the Keepers guidance on your ordained tasks.”

“English, let him speak.” Jordan moved around him. Fear flickered in her eyes, but she was definitely not a quivering reed.

The Wolfe reached for her hand. “Jordan, get behind me.”

She jerked her hand free and frowned. “What do you know of Keepers?”

“You must find all the pages of Satan’s Scriptures. Your dragon only stole a single page of the bible. The rest is hidden in Castle Swan.” Raphael turned to the dragon. “Your brother is possessed. To save his soul, the book must be destroyed.”

The Wolfe and dragon circled Raphael as if they were going to attack, but Raphael didn’t appear to be the list bit worried. “Beware of the black flower. It has the power to taint the Keeper.”

Jordan looked at her palm, then raised it up. A tiny black flower was tattooed on her flesh. “What will happen to me?”

“You have passed the taint onto your immediate generations. None were strong enough to defeat Balthazar.”

The Wolfe frowned. “So, ’tis true. Balthazar is a demon.”

“A demon bent on destruction.” Raphael walked toward Holly.

Duncan squeezed between them, forcing the angel aside.

“Protective little beast, aren’t you?”

The dragon was bigger than a velociraptor. She’d hate to see what the archangel thought a big beast would be.

Raphael waved his hand and appeared on the other side of the dragon. Holly’s fear slowly dissipated, and she could breathe. The tension drained out of her muscles, and she leaned against the wall to keep from collapsing onto the floor.

“You’re one of mine,” he said.

“What does that mean? Balthazar said I was on his team.”

He unraveled her clenched fist, and the once shiny black flower tattooed on her palm was now pearly white and lacked thorns. He rubbed his thumb over the dazzling tattoo. “Balthazar attempted to control you with a black flower. It’s a hellish weapon designed to destroy a Keeper’s power. White means you are no longer tainted and have the power to destroy one of Satan’s Scriptures’ chapters. Do not touch the black flower again, or your power will fade.” He looked at Duncan. “Beware, dragon. Balthazar wants your soul. He will use your weakness against you.”

Duncan growled and gnashed his teeth.

“Your brother is possessed, dragon, and all of your huffing and puffing isn’t going to change it. To save your brother’s soul, you and your dragon mate must find the next chapter and seal it back into the box.”

Duncan snapped at Raphael, who only raised his eyebrow as if he was amused.

“You’re as stubborn as Blade was about finding his angel-mate. Your mate isn’t dead dragon.” He winked at Holly. “She’s very much alive.” His musical pitch made her think of some hokey romance movie.

No, he couldn’t mean her. She was not mating with a dragon—no matter how beautiful he was as a man. “What happens if we don’t do this?”

“Then you will remain in this century. To go home, you must fulfill this quest. The choice is yours.”

“Not much of choice,” she mumbled.

“Each time, Alastair uses Satan’s Scriptures, he will become more powerful and more evil. He will have the capability to destroy your world and send innocent souls to hell.” Raphael lowered his voice. “Is this what you want, my dear?”

The Wolfe still held his sword over his head. Trust didn’t come easy to this man. “Why can’t you stop him?”

“Because it’s not my destiny. It’s the destiny of the Keepers appointed by St. Peter himself. I am here to set the Keepers on the right path, but I can’t intervene.”

Lady Jordan looked at her hand. “Am I to go on this quest?”

“No.” The Wolfe’s single word didn’t give any room for discussion.

“English,” Lady Jordan frowned. “I willna have innocent souls lost.”

Raphael’s eyes grew solemn. “My lady, your quest is done. Balthazar tricked you into opening the box. It was he who sent you the letter, not your da. His plan was to stain all the Keeper’s in this age.”

She hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

“The sin is not yours. It’s Balthazar’s.” He gave her a bright smile. “But don’t lose hope, my dear lady.” He looked at Holly. “Each time a chapter is destroyed, the black flower loses its power. I have set you on the righteous path. Find the chapters and stop Balthazar. Be careful. Balthazar is a crafty demon and will set traps. Your love for each other is his greatest fear. Love conquers all.”

A huge weight of despair deposited between Holly’s slender shoulders. She was a graduate student, not a thrill seeker. “Great. How are we supposed to do this?”

“Have faith in yourself and each other.” Raphael faded into a white brilliant ball and floated out of the room the same way he’d appeared, reminding Holly of the white witch in The Wizard of Oz.

The Wolfe sheathed his sword. “’Tis something you must do. The task is forced upon you, my lady. I will not lose my dragon knight to a demon.”

Duncan transformed back into a man. He was completely naked, and Holly couldn’t keep from gaping at him. His muscles rippled with his slight movement from his pecs to his tight abs to his thick thighs. He’d make Mr. Universe envious, except for the angry cuts and purple and black bruises on his body. This was a man scarred from battle, not some pansy-ass flexing his muscles to win a trophy. With all his strength and shape-shifting magic, he’d been kind to her. He’d even protected her from an archangel. Duncan intrigued her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if his love-making would be just as tender and attentive.

Heat flushed her cheeks when she caught a glance of his cock and the image of him thrusting inside her flashed in her mind. He was a dragon, for heaven’s sake.

Lady Jordan’s cheeks were as red as Holly’s, and she cast her head down. “I still canna get used to this, Duncan.”

The door burst open wide, and three nights rushed inside, swords drawn. “My lord, what happened?”

A tall one aimed his sword at Holly. “Who is that wench? And why is she wearing such shameful trousers?”

Holly met his disdainful gaze and gestured toward her pants. “These are jeans. And they are not distasteful. It’s what we wear in the twenty-first century.”

He scowled. “What madness is this?”

“The blackest kind.” Duncan squared his shoulders. “Wolfe, I canna fulfill this quest. My mate is dead. Ye know this.” He looked at Holly. “If ye send me with her, I fear I’ll put her in danger. There must be another way to stop this demon. We need to find another dragon to do this. My brother’s soul depends on it.”

His strong voice held a hint of fear that piqued Holly’s curiosity. He’d been desperate to find his brother, but now he wanted to pass this onto another dragon.

Lady Jordan raised her head. “We canna chose what trials God will put upon us, Duncan. I know yer heart still weeps over Marigold. Ye must trust in God and fulfill this trial. For not just for our sakes, but for the innocents that are yet to be born.”

Duncan lowered his head, and his massive shoulders dropped. “My dragon mate is dead. How can I fulfill this, my lady?”

The Wolfe walked over to Duncan and put his hand on his shoulder. “Apparently, she’s not, Duncan. The Archangel gave you a task to fulfill. As your Lord, I’m ordering you to find the chapters and save your brother from condemnation.”

Duncan raised his head. “I’ll protect the lass with my life, my lord, but I willna mate with her. My happiness died a long time ago. My lord, if ye could send for my squire, I will take up yer task, although it will be folly.”

“Don’t I—” Holly’s sentence was cut off faster than a flash of lightning.

Duncan seized her hand and pulled her out of the room, past the astonished knights.

She slapped his hand. “Where are you taking me?”

He hadn’t even acknowledged her. She was sure her slaps hurt him about as much as angry gnats. “Where are you taking me, you Neanderthal?”

“To Castle Swan. We have some unfinished business there.”

His angry tone put her feelers on fight or flight mode. Wherever this Castle Swan was, she doubted they’d be bringing out the china for high tea.