The Assassin: (Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #2) (24 page)

 
“‘Stop?’ You, of all people, ask me to stop? Jorge was a Messenger. He was going to tell her the gossip. Give her the entire message before it was time. I did what I had to do to contain the situation,” Sister Ana said.

“You were supposed to warn Jorge, not kill him.” The woman sighed. “He was a lovely man, a genuinely kind soul.”
 

“You think I care about
kindness?”
Sister Ana screeched.
“You two have not been forthright with me. You need to convince me why should I
not
kill her? What
stops
me from killing her?” She threw her hands up in the air. “When did my job change from Hunter to Babysitter?”

“Don’t push me, Ana!” the man said.

This didn’t sound like a conversation with a boyfriend. This wasn’t a lover’s quarrel with the other woman in the room. The man’s voice sounded familiar. Why did his voice sound familiar?

That’s when I identified the third scent: chocolate chip cookies. I was sixteen years old in medieval Portugal—not six years old in Chicago. I closed my eyes and memories of that last crazy car ride with my mama flooded my brain.
 

Sprigs of lavender and a sage stick hung from her rear view mirror and I munched on a warm, freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. I didn’t know why we were going so fast up this circular car park, but I knew I was with my mama, which always made it a perfect moment. Until we were struck violently by a monster-sized SUV that demolished our car and left us teetering ten stories up in the air, the back wheels grinding against the reinforced guard rail.
 

The man peered at mama through the partially opened window. “It’s your choice, Rebecca. Stay and know that you’ve killed your daughter. Or leave and possibly live to fight another day.”

My attention ripped from my memories back into the moment when the same man walked into view, I spotted a chunky silver ring gleaming on his finger, and I gasped.

His eyes met mine, and he nodded at me before he turned his gaze back to Ana.
 

“You can’t kill her, Ana,” Malachi said. “You can’t kill her because Madeline is mine.”

~ ~ ~

My heart pounded in my chest and my skin burned like it was on fire.
 

I turned and ran. I raced through that forest as fast as I could. I didn’t care if I sounded like an elephant galloping across African wetlands. I didn’t care if I was clumsier than a bull in a china shop. It didn’t matter if they could hear me. I lifted the skirt of my long dress, and I ran because my life depended on it.
 

I simply had to get out of dodge before Malachi, and the sheer hell he represented, found me, killed me, and left me for dead in a world in which I didn’t belong.

The blood pounded in my ears as I dodged around fallen trees, stumbled over rocks, and sunk into soft, wet earth. I saw a soft light wavering in the meadow and I aimed myself like a bullet in its direction.
 

“Nadja!” Samuel called to me.

“Samuel!” I cried but kept on running, my hair flying behind me, every cell in my body aching to reach him.

“I am coming for you!” He crashed toward the forest, the light from the lantern he held bobbing haphazardly.

“No! Just stay there! Please!” The light zigzagged toward me, then away from me in the wrong direction.

Just stay there. Be there for me.
 
 

“Madeline,” Malachi called. “Don’t you think it’s time you stop running?”

Hell, no!

“Leave me alone!” I hollered. “I have done nothing wrong.”

“That’s not what Sister Ana told me.”

I tripped out into the meadow. Samuel’s lantern was about a hundred yards away. “Samuel!” I yelled. “Stay there!” But we were both headstrong and he listened to me about as much as I did to him.
 

We raced toward each other. He lowered the lantern onto the ground, swept me up in his arms and hugged me so very tight. “I am so sorry,” he said and kissed me once on my lips, tore himself away, and stared into my eyes. “I am so very, sorry. Gaspar insisted I prepare for the transportation of the prisoners. I tried to get away—”

“Where are your manners, Madeline?” Malachi walked toward us, holding his empty hands out to either side, in an obvious ploy to show that he was weaponless.
 

I broke into a sweat, not knowing whether it was from exertion or terror.

“Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?” Malachi asked.

Samuel’s eyebrows slammed halfway up his forehead and his hand discretely found his knife.
 

My hands trembled, and I pulled away from him, but not before he saw my dread.

“Greetings, sir,” Samuel said. “It seems you are looking for a young woman named Madeline. Unfortunately, you are mistaken. This woman is called Nadja. She is not your Madeline.”

Malachi laughed. “You’re picking up new skills, Madeline. I’m proud of you.”

My breath grew ragged as my chest grew tight and panic began to close down my throat.
 

 
“Normally, sir, I would invite you back to our camp for a meal and hospitality,” Samuel said, “However, I am not allowed to offer comforts to strangers tonight.” He pulled a small silver coin from a pouch and held it out to him. “Take this instead. There is a village a close walking distance from here. Perhaps your Madeline is there.”

Malachi shook his head and started laughing so hard he coughed a few times. He thumped his fist on his chest. “Seriously, Madeline. You didn’t tell him yet?”

I shook my head.

“You know this man?” Samuel asked.

I didn’t know what to say. But I had to say something. I had to come clean and tell Samuel the truth. I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t Nadja. I didn’t know the message I was supposed to deliver. Too many people were dying around me and he couldn’t be next.

 
I would not allow it.

When the woman from the forest called out, “Ana is gone, Malachi! She wouldn’t listen to me. You need to come back here. Now.”

“Perhaps you need to come here, instead,” he hollered. But his request was met with silence. Malachi grinned. “Women. They want one thing and then they change their minds and want another. He bowed to Samuel. “Unfortunately, my presence is requested elsewhere. I’m certain we’ll meet up again, later. Until then, I bid you farewell.” He turned and jogged toward the woods.
 

“Do you know him, Nadja?” Samuel asked and clasped my trembling hands in his as I watched Malachi leave.

“I’ve seen him before. He lurks in the shadows of places I visit,” I said. “He scares me.”

“He is gone for tonight. This man is most likely a charlatan, a petty thief, or a fool.”

“What happens when he returns?” I asked.

“If that happens, I will take care of it,” Samuel said.

When Malachi stopped in his tracks and swiveled. “You are Lord Samuel Pacheco, right?”

Samuel flinched and his brows furrowed. “No,” he said. “I am Lord Samuel De Rocha.”

“Pacheco, De Rocha,” Malachi said. “I get all the Spanish nobility surnames mixed up. I ran into a messenger who asked me to relay news to you. Your father wanted you to know that he has safely crossed into France.” Malachi tossed the silver coin back at him, but Samuel stood frozen, and it fell onto the ground. “Thank you for your charity. But I’ve never been a beggar and I won’t be needing this.”

~ thirty ~

I was a nervous wreck as we made our way back into camp. Samuel’s face was white and he didn’t appear all that calm either.
 

We should have been settling down for the night. But instead the camp was filled with movement. Tomasis saddled the horses. Miri stuffed packages of food and drink into a few satchels.

Gaspar rode toward us. “Where were you? Never mind. We depart for Coimbra shortly with the prisoners. Hurry up.”

“Why?” I asked. “I thought we were leaving in the morning.”

Gaspar sighed. “You don’t need to know why!” He frowned and rode away.

“I am sick and tired of the class issues,” I whispered to Samuel.

“You are a gypsy,” Samuel said.

“I am a person.”

“You are a girl,” he whispered.

“I am a person!” I hissed.

Samuel frowned. “Gaspar,” he said. “I thought the plan was to leave at first light. Why do we travel tonight?”

Gaspar swiveled. “Because King Pedro received word of a possible plot to free the prisoners. He wants Inêz’s assassins in his castle dungeon, now. By the way, whatever you did for my horse worked, thank you. He no longer flinches.”
 

I touched Samuel’s wrist. “Thank you,” I said, “I’ll go help Miri get ready to leave.”

“No need,” Gaspar said. “You gypsies are staying.”
 

“Why?” I asked.

“I have never met a peasant who asks so many questions. Who takes such liberties with her life and her duties,” Gaspar said. “I insist you stop questioning everything and simply take orders.”

“Fine!” I said. Good God, it was all I could do to not tell him that women earned the right to vote in the early 1900s. I feared his head would explode. “Tell us what to do,” I said.

“A spare cart has been disguised to make it appear as if it still holds the prisoners. One of our men remains to complete the deception of guarding them. Tomasis will assist him.”

“I will stay behind,” Samuel said. “I will help with the ruse.”

“No, you will not,” Gaspar said. “You are needed on our trip back to the castle. What if my horse has more problems?”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “So you’re saying that we’re sitting ducks? We’re
 
decoys? We could be murdered in an attack to free the assassins!”

“Yes. That is exactly what I am saying. You are loyal servants of King Pedro of Portugal,” Gaspar said. “We all are.” He pressed his heels into his horse’s flanks and rode off.

“I will talk Gaspar into letting me stay,” Samuel said.
 

“Don’t,” I said. “Suspicions are high and paranoia is running rampant. He’s acting weird. Just go. We’ll be okay.”

“But—” Samuel said.

“You once left me by the side of a road because you were worried people would put two and two together and come after us.”

“I regret that,” he said.
 

“If you stay, the same thing could happen. I’ll be okay. Find me at the castle?” I asked.

“My Lady.” He knelt on one knee in front of me, took my hand in his, and kissed it. “I would find you anywhere.”

~ ~ ~

We survived our night of deception with one royal guard watching over us. I was so wired after seeing Malachi that I had a hard time falling asleep. My mind did flip-flops as I tried to figure out why he was here.

Was Malachi here to kill me? If so—he hadn’t tried very hard. Was he here to set the prisoners free? That didn’t make any sense. Why was he talking with Sister Ana in the forest? It was odd that she never returned to camp tonight, but in a strange way, I was relieved. I didn’t think I could keep up the pretense that I didn’t realize she was a Hunter. Had she murdered Jorge? That would make sense. That also scared the crap out of me. And who was that other woman in the ancient gnarled forests; the one who called to Malachi?

I must have nodded off when Miri jostled my arm and woke me. “Already?” I asked.

“I was nice. I let you sleep in past dawn,” Miri said.

“You’re too good to me.”

“I agree,” she said. “I could use some help packing up.”

I yawned, opened my eyes, stretched my arms, glanced around, and saw the most glorious day unfolding in medieval Portugal. The grass was green and the remaining chickens clucked as they fearlessly high-stepped around camp. Scout wandered from tent to tent, greeting everyone with a few downward dogs and sloppy kisses on their cheeks.
 

“We leave in a few minutes,” Tomasis said. “We’ll eat on the road. Miri, can you and Nadja arrange that?”

“For you, many things could be arranged.” Miri winked and Tomasis grinned back at her, smitten.

“Scout!” I put my fingers to my lips and whistled. “Get over here! I need to beautify you before we return to the palace.” My dog raced to my side. I buried my nose in his furry face, hugged him, and burst into tears.

“What is wrong with you?” Miri asked as she loaded our camping gear into the back of the cart.

“It’s all coming to an end.” I wiped away tears. “Jorge is dead, two of the assassins have been captured, and our search party will dismantle. We’ll go back to our normal lives and we’ll never see each other again. It’s all over.”

And it would be.
If I successfully time traveled back to my home, Scout would no longer be my dog, Miri would no longer be my friend, and I’d leave Samuel behind—again.
 

I wasn’t sure if my poor heart could bear the burden of being broken another time.

Miri sighed, and pulled me tight to her in a massive hug. “No matter what life holds for us, Nadja, we will always be friends.”
 

“Ladies!” Tomasis climbed into the cart’s driver’s seat. “Please give me the pleasure of your company.”

“But what about Sister Ana?” I asked as we hopped onto the back of the cart.

“If Sister Ana sees fit to stay out all night,” Tomasis slapped the reins on the back of the ponies, “then Sister Ana can find her own way back to Coimbra.”

~ ~ ~

Nine hours later, we were back in the bustle of the capitol. The royal flags had been changed; the new colors reflected King Pedro’s rule. Our caravan’s sole remaining guard left immediately and the majority of the peasants disbanded.

Miri and I watched as Tomasis squatted, hugged Dario, and whispered. The boy walked the few steps to Miri and bowed to her. “It is my supper to meet you, Maid Miri,” he said. “I am Dario.”

“It is your ‘honor’ Dario.” Tomasis prompted.

“An honor to meet you as well, Dario.” Miri knelt next to him, squeezed his hand, and smiled.

“Will I see your beautiful face later tonight?” Tomasis asked.

Her father waddled toward us. “No! Stop your lollygagging, Miri. It is past time you returned to your family’s business!”