The Guardian (Chronicles of Dover's Amalgam Book 1) (19 page)

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Authors: Elizabetta Holcomb

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BOOK: The Guardian (Chronicles of Dover's Amalgam Book 1)
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Lightening flashed and spooked the horses. The crash of thunder followed almost immediately to mingle with the neighing of the horses.

“He’s closing in on us,” Gabriel shouted to Minh as he fought for control of his mount. The horse danced to the side, tossing its head to be free from the bit. “We’ll have to ride hard if we want to make it there before he is totally unleashed.”

Minh nodded as he covered his head with the hood of his cloak. He motioned with an outstretched arm for Gabriel to lead the way.

Elizabet’s study of England did not include their weather. She was confused—stumped—that Gabriel and Minh could appear apprehensive over a bit of lightening and rain, but as their journey progressed, so did the storm. When they reached Torre Abbey, speaking was no longer an option. Words must be shouted to be heard.

Something was not right, and she got the distinct impression that she was the only one surprised by this sudden turn in the weather. They were moving in sync with one another as if they had done this a million times before. The storm was upon the small town of Tourqauy like an epic scene from a Greek tragedy. Any minute, she expected they would be slain or sucked into an abyss.

Gabriel brought his cloak over Elizabet once they dismounted. “We need to run,” he said as he bent down against the rain and covered her with his body. “We have to make it to the abbey or we will be caught in the surge.”

“He’ll be swift,” Minh said. He was next to Elizabet, bracing her between them. The men picked her up; each grabbed under an elbow and lifted. A few times, she felt her toes scrape the soft, wet ground, but mostly, she kept her feet tucked so they would not catch on something and trip them all.

They carried her along until they came to a thatched roof animal shelter. Gabriel shoved her into a mound of hay while Minh secured the door. He unsheathed his sword and studied the parameter of the barn. “Don’t move, do you hear me?” he said to her over his shoulder without looking at her.

Elizabet nodded vigorously. The space was tattered; there were no animals, but the smell of them lingered. She allowed her eyes to dart around the dilapidated space. How would it hold up in a storm of this magnitude? This was no regular passing thunderstorm.

“They’ll have him in the lower east end.” Minh threw back the hood of his cloak, reached for his quiver and pulled out a bow. “As long as Jeremy keeps them occupied, we should be able to move quickly. I’ll look for their water source. I don’t think plan A will work, but let’s keep to schedule and cover all the bases anyway. You stay here with the duchess.”

“I didn’t see any guards or archers at the lookout post,” Gabriel said. “If he doesn’t go easy, we’ll have to go with an alternate plan.” He shook his head. “He was only supposed to distract and disarm so we could get inside with no trouble and have an audience with that naval bastard.”

Minh said not a word, but snuck out the opposite door that led to the abbey.

“Are you talking about Jeremy Cameron?” Elizabet asked. She hunkered down as best as she was able in the heavy dress. Her fingers trembled as she ran them over the frog closures of her cloak. There was a bite of frost in the air and although there was some protection in the shelter, the storm was loud and vicious. She frowned up at the ceiling. The wind screeched through the holes in the thatching. A gap was beginning to form in the roof over the hay bales.

“Smell that?” She faced Gabriel and let her eyes narrow even as her expression hardened. “I’ve smelled that before.” All at once, she knew. It dawned on her like the lightening outside. “This is Jeremy,” she bit out. She gestured to the bowing doors of the barn. “I’d know that smell anywhere. It’s tropical, yet we’re in England.” She stood, and kicked at clumps of hay in her path. “
England!
” she said again, and pointed to the ground. “This is no storm. It’s a hurricane. He’s turned into a
hurricane
.”

“What gives you that impression?” Gabriel stopped searching for weaknesses in the structure and turned to her.

She twisted her face in derision. It was ridiculous they were having this conversation—now of all times. Things were nasty outside. “I don’t know. I’m only guessing.
Argh!
I’m not stupid, you know.”

Minh busted through the door. “It’s him,” he said to her before looking at Gabriel. “They’re using a simple well. I used the whole vial.” He glared at Elizabet. “
Do not
drink the water here! It’s been poisoned.”

Gabriel pointed the tip of his sword at Minh. “We should leave this to Jareth . . .” His words cut off as the barn gave a heave under the strain of the winds and the doors splintered open. Gabriel charged forward to protect her with his body.

Minh strode about the interior perimeter as if chaos did not surround them. He shouldered the great door and wrestled it closed, then leaned back against the splintering wood to keep it shut and shelter them from flying debris. “He’s usually so precise.” His expression was perplexed.

“He wasn’t ready,” Gabriel snarled. “He’s too young.”

Elizabet covered her ears as she hunkered into the shelter Gabriel provided. “I knew it,” she screamed over the noise. “Turning? Is that what you call a DNA mutation like this? Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve been prepared for a fricking hurricane instead of coming here like it was going to be a joy ride in Hyde Park.”

“We have to keep moving,” Gabriel said. She wrenched away when he grasped her face and forced her to look at him, to concentrate on what he was saying over the noise. “Let’s find your husband and he will tell you the rest. Jeremy will be protecting his guardian. It’s how they’re trained. When we find Jareth, we’ll find refuge in the calm eye of the storm.”

 

THINGS WERE NOT
better.

Jareth was being held in a rat infested dungeon that was filling with water from the storm surge. Rats crawled up ropes that hung from the walls, looking for refuge. The room was built into the elevated hill of the abbey, but was still below sea level. It was evident that Jeremy was not mature enough to protect his guardian. At least here, however, they were safe from flying debris the wind kicked up.

A rat fell on Elizabet’s head and her ear piercing scream rent the air.

“I got it.” Minh used an arrow to skewer the rodent. He tossed the carcass and the arrow into the rising flood.

“Don’t let them get me,” she cried. There was misery in her voice. She ran her fingers through her hair and with shaking hands, lifted the hood of her cloak and held it tightly to conform to her head. She did not sign up for this. Marry the duke and become a duchess—that was what she agreed to. Not storms made by a superhuman, and most definitely not rats. If there was a refund to be had, she wanted it.

“I’ve got them,” Minh said, just as she felt another swipe near the back of her neck. She cringed, held still and closed her eyes. Her stomach rolled twice before settling.

“Gabriel! Minh!” A familiar voice called from deep within the cavern they had breached.

“There!” Gabriel pointed with his sword. “To the back.”

“Aw, screw it,” Minh muttered. He reached for his cell phone and used the flashlight app to light a path to where they had heard the voice. “I’m sick of guessing what’s a rat and what’s my imagination.”

“Really?” Gabriel scoffed.

“You can thank me when we are out of this rat trap.” The beam of light rested on a wooden cage, filled with men. The cage was covered with the long-tailed rodents scampering for higher, dryer ground. “
Ugh
,” he breathed. The light flickered as his hand shook. “I hate rats. Why couldn’t it be snakes or spiders?”

“Something just touched my foot!” Elizabet hollered. She sprang upward and wrapped her arms around Gabriel, climbing his body like a tree.

“Swimmers,” Minh said, and pointed the light into the rising flood. He peeled off his cloak and swatted the rats away from their feet while Gabriel swayed to regain his footing with the extra weight he bore.

Minh swaddled the cloak around an arrow and used his cigarette lighter to ignite it into a torch. “It’s a good thing this wasn’t my designer cloak. Leather just doesn’t say torch me quite like cotton blend.”

“Honestly,” Gabriel said. His voice boomed in the cramped surroundings. “You’re giving us a fashion lesson now?”

“I wish you boys would stop quibbling and get me out of here.”

Minh waved the torch in the direction of the cage. Jareth was a bloody mess, but a welcome sight. And he was standing on his own accord and being bossy; things were better after all.

“We aren’t boys,” Gabriel bit out as he turned to Jareth. He bounced Elizabet on his back so he wouldn’t drop her as he neared the enclosure.

Jareth gripped the bars of the prison. His eyes narrowed when he saw who Gabriel was carrying. “I thought I heard your voice.” He did not sound pleased.

“My squeal, you mean?” She blew a piece of hair from her eyes, but wasn’t willing to release her hold. “And before you get all nasty with me—” Jareth started to say something, but she silenced him by pointing at him. With her other arm she held Gabriel’s neck in a basic head lock. “Let me tell you one thing. I’m your wife now, buddy.”

Jareth was too tall to stand straight in the cage that was filled with men, but still he tried. “This is my rescue?” he asked, sharing a look between Gabriel and Minh. “You brought a weak girl along with you? Are you both mad?”

“We had a plan,” Minh said. He looked at Gabriel who was twisting Elizabet’s arm from his throat. “But it isn’t panning out the way we expected.” He approached the cage and began torching the rats from the top. They fell with heavy splashes around the enclosure. “Just go with it.”

“For once,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. He tipped his head to see how she was faring and then used force to pull her off his person.

Jareth’s lips curved even though she did nothing to hide her anger. She glared at him, her jaw rigid.

“Let’s have the outline, for curiosity sake,” Jareth urged, his voice deceptively smooth.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Minh hedged as he kicked a swarm of rodents from the door of the cage. “We thought we’d use Jeremy as a mask, get it in here, bust you out. If that failed, we have your wifey here to verify that you are unable to be betrothed to another.” He shrugged. “I also wanted to use a bit of poison, just to make it original. It seemed logical at the time.”

“And I presume the boy is responsible for the storm?” Jareth asked.

“You’re so bloody smart.” Minh smiled. He set the torch aside, fumbled in his cloak, and produced a long needle. He began to work on the rickety lock, but not before he got a good look at Jareth’s bloodied and bruised face. “So, while I pick this lock in record breaking time, was it James who quite messed up your pretty face?”

Jareth nodded and frowned at Minh’s choice of words. He also seemed peeved over the mere idea that they thought using Elizabet was acceptable. “It is nothing.” His chin jerked to the man two others were holding above the water line now at their knees. “I have a man who needs medical attention more than I do. Pneumothorax. I released the tension, but I must get him to stable ground.”

Jareth met her gaze. His eyes roamed over her from head to toe. She could tell he did not like her being here. It was dangerous. Her eyes narrowed and her chin raised a notch in defiance.

“Bingo,” Minh’s voice broke their stare as the lock sprang open. “Fifteen seconds. Someone needs to give me a gold medal.” It took brawn to open the decrepit iron barred door. He inclined his head when the men rushed the door. “His grace first.”

Jareth grasped Minh’s shoulder and squeezed. “Thank you, my brother.”

“Your majesty.” Minh bowed at the waist. “Let me see to your wounds, to ensure they are really nothing. Your eye is nearly swollen shut.”

“We must get these people out.” Jareth gestured around him but gazed at his wife as he spoke. “I would not want harm to come to those I care for while I am managed as one would a child.”

“We must remove ourselves from this tomb,” Gabriel said. “I don’t think the host is stable. He will bury us alive unless we move quickly.” He glanced around the space they were in. “If any area should be secure, it would be here with you, and it is not. If we get to the barn, there’s a breach in the gates there. It’s not ideal, but it’s higher ground. Protection from debris.”

Jareth breached the gap between himself and Gabriel, then gestured to Elizabet. “Come.” He turned. “Get on my back. There is something infinitely wrong with you being tangled around my henchman’s back. I’ll carry you out of this mess.” He peered at Gabriel. “I say we clear the barn and be rid of this place. The host should recognize our retreat and we will be free—not holed up on enemy territory like cowards.”

There was something in his expression that kept her from contesting his command. She switched handlers, and clamped her legs around Jareth like a vice, careful not to allow her feet to touch the rising waters. She made not a sound of protest.

Jareth pivoted around to check the location of his men, then glanced at the cage to be sure it was empty. He ignored the glare Gabriel was shooting his way.

“Are you sure you got me?” Elizabet asked. She was cold. She shivered as she adjusted her weight and clung to him.

“I have you,” he said. He jerked his chin to Minh. “Lead the way out.”

Chapter 11

A FIGHT AWAITED
them at the exit from the underground. Sir James’s men were stationed there, swords drawn and ready for a battle.

Gabriel and Minh made a way for Jareth to slip through to lead Elizabet to a place of refuge. The exit led to a courtyard that was surrounded by the walls of the abbey. He ran the length of the yard, putting as much distance between her and the battle as possible.

Elizabet slid from his back when he reached the far side and ducked behind a stone pillar. She stepped back in the shadows and grasped her arms, running her hands up and down for warmth. She already missed the heat he provided.

Jareth grabbed her chin with his forefinger and thumb and lifted her face. “You are scared and cold, but you must be brave—all right?”

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