Golden Blood (24 page)

“What about me?” Gemma adjusted the belt at
her waist and slid the sword into its sheath.

Scanning his surroundings, Alistair smiled as
he picked up a discarded bow. The quiver had four arrows left
inside. “You can be over watch.” He handed them to her. “We need
your fire cover.”

He slapped her on the shoulder and walked
towards the door. Gemma ground her teeth as she walked behind them.
Nestling down where her father indicated she prepared her bow and
nodded.

Dom and Alistair ran in opposite directions.
Gemma kept an eye on the walls above them. Soon they were out of
sight and she was left at the stables stressing over where Harrison
might be and worried about what her father might do if he did find
him.

Her muscles jerked and she began to bob on
her toes. Doubt festered hot and pungent in her brain. It was
enough to convince her that if she didn’t find Harrison herself, he
would never make it home.

* * * *

Harrison was dragged towards the dungeons.
Images of what awaited him flashed through his brain. He had seen
pictures of medieval torture and his stomach roiled to think which
punishment they would choose. Would he be strong enough to
withstand it?

Panic seized his body, making him thrash
against the guards as they shoved the tower door open and pulled
him towards the dank stairwell. A forceful whack with the hilt of a
sword turned his limbs to jelly. He tried to shake off the pain and
in a last ditch effort for peace, let his thoughts turn to
Gemma.

He ached for her, knowing her parents would
probably refuse to go back, knowing she would not have the strength
to fight for him. The depressing thought was heavy in his brain,
followed by the sharp pinching pain of guilt. He squeezed his eyes
shut.

“She would,” he mumbled.

The guard slapped him on the back of the
head. “Quiet you!”

“She’d fight. She’d find a way.” His eyes
popped open.

I gotta get to the stables!

Harrison’s muscles went taut. The guards
tightened their grip, but not fast enough to slow Harrison’s
thrashing. He punched his way free, but didn’t get far. One guard
lunged after him and they toppled down the stairs together, taking
out the second guard. Harrison struggled for breath as the man
landed on him and shot an iron fist into his face. He barely had
time to moan before he glimpsed the dagger.

Lifting his arms, he blocked the first blow
and held the knife at bay, but knew his fight was futile. The guard
was built like a bear. He forced his brain to shut-the-hell-up and
pushed against the dagger. His arms were about to collapse when the
man lurched back. His eyes bulged wide then his body slumped, an
arrow piercing his throat.

Harrison pushed the man off with a grunt to
see Gemma running down the stairs towards him. He struggled to his
feet with a goofy grin.

“Take my hand!”

She pulled him towards the door, but quickly
diverted at the sound of clanging armor.

“Come on!”

They raced up the narrow stairwell, finally
smashing their way out into the dimming light. They circled the top
of the tower, the breath-taking view of the countryside lost on
them. Gemma ran to the edge and looked over the side.

“The curtain wall’s not too much of a
drop.”

Harrison leaned over beside her and gaped.
“Are you insane?”

He glanced behind him. The sound of clanging
armor was approaching with speed. The first guard burst through the
door and Gemma downed him with a quick arrow. The second came hot
on his heels. He was soon lying in heap on top of his partner.

Gemma looked over the edge then back to the
door.

“They’ll just keep coming. We have to climb
down.”

Hot, shaky breaths jumped out of his mouth as
he took in the plummeting drop.

“What are we supposed to hold on to?”

“There are enough grips there.” Gemma jumped
onto the ledge and lowered herself down. Harrison watched her toes
balance on the edge of a stone no more than a half-inch wide.

She glanced up, her expression stern. “Hurry
up.”

Harrison swallowed convulsively and followed
her. Very carefully, he lowered his body over the edge. His feet
found a minute grip in the side of the stone and he shuffled
alongside his girlfriend, mimicking her every move.

His fingers began to cramp. He tried not to
look down, but couldn’t help one glimpse to the ground. He pictured
them plummeting to the stones below and quickly turned back to face
the wall.

They inched along until there was another
safe place to descend. Gemma carefully shimmied her body down and
nearly slipped. The muscles in her arm shot tight as she righted
her mistake. Harrison felt a wave of panic fire through his system
and stopped for a second to catch his breath. He closed his eyes
and pulled in enough air to regulate his heart, then shot Gemma a
“don’t you dare do that to me again” look. She managed a quick grin
of apology before continuing their descent.

He wasn’t quite sure what Gemma’s plan was.
Once they reached the curtain wall they could run around the edge,
but then what. Was she just using up time before being whisked
home? He shuffled quickly to catch up and tried to make sure his
hand was brushing hers as often as possible.

He took another step down, following Gemma’s
descent, and felt his insides split in half as she let out a feeble
cry. Her body jerked. Two arrows protruded from her back.

“Gemma!”

She went limp. He let go of the wall and
reached for her falling figure, managing to catch her hand. Another
arrow shot past his head and he ducked while still trying to stay
attached to the wall.

“Hold on!”

Gemma’s eyes swirled as she looked up at his
face.

“It’s okay. I’m not letting you go.” He
fought against the slipperiness of their skin. He could feel the
inevitable as his body screamed to let go.

He gazed back into her eyes and saw the
message.

“No, Gemma, don’t you dare,” he whispered,
tightening his grip on her weak hand. “Stay with me.”

Glancing back up at his protesting fingers,
he begged them to stay attached to the wall. It was pure agony
watching them slip from their hold. The air rushed past him as he
plummeted for the ground. He closed his eyes and gripped Gemma’s
hand, yelling against the feeling of her slipping from his
grasp.

* * * *

St. Augustine, Florida
- 2011AD

The stark, white light of the hallway was
blinding as Harrison opened his eyes and re-calculated his
brain.

Patting his chest, he sat up and looked down
at his hands. They were shooting with pins and needles. Turning
them over, he studied his shaking palms and suddenly realized.

I’m not dead!

The sensation of falling was still rippling
through his system.

Gemma!

He turned to see her pale body crumpled
beside him. Ignoring the pain radiating through his muscles, he
pulled her into his arms.

“Gemma.” He shook her. Her lack of response
made his brain want to melt, but he quelled the urge in order to
check her pulse.

It was weak and thready, but it was there.
Grabbing her clothing from the floor, he bunched up her shirt to
try and stanch the bleeding coming from the two open wounds in her
chest and stomach. The arrows were no doubt sitting on a castle
wall somewhere in fourteenth century England.

An instant hatred for her lifestyle speared
through him. How could her father put them in that kind of danger,
for the sake of some man they didn’t even know? Harrison wondered
if the stableman and his family had made it, but one look at
Gemma’s ashen face had him throwing the thought aside with force.
He didn’t care if the guy had made it. He just needed Gemma to!

“Hang on, baby. Please, just hang on.”

Laying her gently on the floor, he covered
her with his sweater and scrambled for his jeans. While shoving a
leg through each hole, he dug in his pocket for his cell phone.
Sliding it open, he was about to dial 9-1-1 when the phone in
Gemma’s pants began tinkling.

He nearly tore the pocket apart as he raced
for her small piece of hardware. He touched the screen and held it
to his ear.

“Is Gemma okay?” Alistair said.

“No” Harrison’s voice quivered. “She’s hurt…
bad.”

“What part of the mall are you in?”

“A corridor leading out to the southern
entrance. I’m dialing an ambulance.”

“No don’t! We can’t afford that kind of
publicity.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about publicity!
She needs to get to hospital or she’s going to die!” The word
tasted like ash in his mouth.

The response was stunned silence.

“Hello?”

“She will get to a hospital,” his voice was
clipped and efficient. “It’ll just be a more subtle approach. I
think I know where you are. Carry on down that corridor, we’ll be
waiting for you outside the exit.”

“But…”

“Just do it!”

He ignored the expletives screaming through
his head as he lifted Gemma’s body.

Her head lolled against his shoulder as he
rushed to the exit.

Turning around, he pushed the bar with his
back and found Dom’s car screeching to a halt in front of him.

The passenger door slammed. Alistair rushed
around the vehicle and helped him get Gemma inside. His face paled
at the sight of her, but his expression remained as tough as old
boot leather. Pulling out his phone, he pushed Harrison into the
front seat and jumped in beside Gemma, cradling her head on his
lap. Dominic accelerated out of the parking lot and swerved into
the street, ignoring the irate blasting of car horns as he took off
towards the hospital.

“Penelope, Gemma’s hurt. It looks bad. Meet
us at the hospital.”

Clicking the phone shut, he didn’t take his
eyes off Gemma.

“Drive like hell, Dominic, or she’s not going
to make it.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ponte Vedra Beach,
Florida - 2011AD

Harrison had never been tortured before. He’d
seen it in movies, watched the victims agonize in various ways. Not
once did he think he’d suffer the same plight, unless, of course,
he counted the surreal experience from earlier that day. Thankfully
he had avoided the 14
^th
Century torture chamber. Now he
sat in a 21
^st
Century one and he was positive it was
just as excruciating. Waiting to find out if Gemma would live or
die. It
was
pure torture.

The minutes ticked by in slow motion as he
limped a trench into the linoleum. Dom sat in a chair, his elbows
on his knees and his eyes locked on the checkerboard floor. Ruby
sat beside him, her legs curled beneath her. Her eyes were wide and
unmoving. Her delicate fingers played with her bottom lip as she
stared at nothing and waited in the deafening silence.

It was a calm contrast to their arrival at
the hospital. Dom had been yelling for a gurney, while Alistair
pushed Harrison firmly away from his daughter. Penelope rushed to
her side demanding details. They’d trundled Gemma through ER and
that was the last Harrison had seen of her.

Thirty minutes later Alistair’s clipped steps
echoed down the corridor. Harrison watched him approaching, hoping
for good news. Instead he faced a tornado of pent up fury.
Alistair’s face was hard as he grabbed Harrison’s collar and
slammed him against the wall.

“If she doesn’t make it through this, I’m
going to kill you.”

Harrison believed every word. Too shocked to
utter a sound, he blinked stupidly at the man while waiting to be
lowered to the floor. What seemed like a month later, the steaming
man dropped him. Harrison crumpled to the floor. Leaning against
the wall, he pulled his knees up and rested his arms across them,
creating a square pillow for his forehead. He remained that way
until his mother and Bryan rushed in.

She was flapping about demanding medical
attention for her boy. After some stern words from Bryan, Harrison
reluctantly limped to a bed where someone stitched up his leg and
sterilized his swelling face. Dom accompanied them after a flick of
Alistair’s head. He ran through the story a couple of times, making
sure the Grangers knew all the ugly details of the “mugging.”
Harrison sat in stony silence, staring at the rainbow poster on the
wall.

“Harrison, you should sit. It’s not good for
your leg.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” He ran his hand through his
hair and gripped the back of his neck. His leg was numb, as was his
brain. He studied the fluorescent lights on the ceiling then jumped
at the sound of slow steps in the corridor.

Penelope walked into the room. She didn’t say
anything or look his way, but the expression on her face set
Harrison free. Stumbling back against the wall, he felt his lungs
take in their first full breath. His eyes stung with relief.

Ruby let out a loud sob, covering her face
with her hands and crumpling to the floor like a rag doll. Blinking
at his own tears, Dom scooped her up and placed her gently back
onto her seat. She clung to his shirt, drenching the fabric.

Alistair wrapped his wife in a firm hug and
they remained that way until some quiet persuasion from a nurse had
them heading home for some rest.

“She’ll be in recovery for another hour or so
then we’ll move her up to a private room. There’s nothing to worry
about Dr. Hart. We’ll take good care of her.”

“You’re probably right, Cynthia. Call me if
anything changes.”

“You have my word.” The large woman smiled
then turned to Harrison. “You too, son. Go home and get some
rest.”

“I’m not leaving.”

His soft voice froze the waiting room as
waves of black anger radiated towards him. Penelope’s steps were
like gunshots as she approached him.