Spirited Away (28 page)
Andi's heart raced. What could she possibly have that these guys wanted? As she rushed for the stairs, the second assailant brought her up short. Both looked to be in their mid-forties and as grungy as a body could possibly be.
Bleh.
And she'd put her mouth on his palm. Total mouth sterilization as soon as she was home.
Andi backed away, keeping them in her sights.
Then someone hit her from behind.
A blinding pain made her head swim. Pulling in a lungful of air, she pushed the yell out with all her might. "Ja-son!"
Hopefully, the knights hadn't headed back to Dreadmoor.
With a stifled cry of pain, Andi slumped to the floor.
She wasn't sure how long it'd been since hitting the floor, but by the grunts and foul medieval curses going on around her, it couldn't have been too long.
Several male voices swore in several languages. They yelled and made threats—promises of torture to various degrees. When the hiss of swords being drawn broke the air, she knew what was going on.
Her guardsmen had come to her rescue.
As she pushed herself up and opened her eyes, young Jason appeared before her. He bent down on one knee and gave her a stern look.
"Lady, are you hurt?" he asked.
"My head hurts a little, but I'm fine."
" 'Tis with many regrets you've had a mishap and I was not here to prevent it. But lay you still until we've control of the matter, if you will. I vow it won't take long."
Andi gave him a weak smile. "Okay."
With a nod, Jason rose and turned to join the others in their rescue.
The two thugs probably wouldn't be attacking anyone for quite some time. They scrambled around the room, trying to find an exit, to somehow get past the knights who had the pair caged in. There were ten warriors in all, and they ferociously met each attempt of escape with a drawn sword, accompanied by vows to use it in various morbid ways. Had Andi not known they were ghosts, she would never have been able to believe anything other than what she saw.
If they were this good dead, she could only imagine how they'd been in life.
Sir Richard charged the one named Williams, sword drawn and pointed at the man's neck. "What want you with the lass?" He took a step closer. "You had better be quicker about your answer if you wish to keep that vile tongue in your empty head."
The man dropped to the floor in a dead faint.
The look of disgust in Sir Richard's eyes almost made Andi laugh. She thought better of it, though, and kept quiet.
"Damned weakling would never have survived our time," Sir Richard growled to no one in particular, then stomped off to help the others terrorize the remaining assailant.
That thought alone brought Andi to her feet. "Jason!
Jason met her gaze. "Aye?"
"Where's the other guy?"
He looked around. "What other guy, lady? 'Tis only these two witless dolts here."
Andy shook her head. "No, there were three. One hit me in the head from behind."
He looked around, startled. "Damnation." He stalked over to the other man and drew his sword.
"Tell me now who hit the lady from behind."
The little man spat on the floor. "I ain't tellin' ye nothin', ye lil' shit!"
Jason frowned, then held his hand out. "Sir Richard, your head, if you please."
Andi watched as Sir Richard shrugged, then in one swift snap plucked his own head off and placed it, dripping with blood, in Jason's awaiting hand.
Her attacker's face turned a very nice, pasty shade of white. He gulped. "What the—"
"Now, dolt," Sir Richard's head said. "Tell the lad who hit the lady and why you idiots are after her.
Now." Jason gave Sir Richard's head a toss or two, then threw it back where it landed, unfortunately backward, on Richard's neck.
The man hit the floor in a dead faint, his unbelieving eyes rolled back in his head.
Several growls of disgust erupted from the other knights; then Richard and Jason approached Andi.
Sir Richard bowed, then looked up. "Lady, you had best call Himself at once. He needs to know of the events before we depart, and I daresay he will not be happy with the news."
Okay." Andi went to the other side of the desk to use the phone. When she rounded the corner, she stifled a scream.
"What is it?" Jason and Richard ran to her side.
She pointed. "It's the innkeeper. They must've knocked him out."
"Call Tristan immediately, lass."
Andi didn't waste another minute. She picked up the phone and dialed the keep. Jameson answered.
"Jameson, please put Tristan on the phone."
"Is something amiss?" Worry laced his voice.
"Kinda. Could you hurry?"
"Yes, lady. Just a moment. I'll place him on the speaker." She heard a muffled call for Tristan, and then his voice sounded in her ear.
"Andrea, what has befallen you? Jameson's as white as bed linens."
"Well," she said slowly, "there's been a little accident. But everything's—"
"What?"
Andi winced from his bellow. "I received a call in my room saying I had a telegram waiting for me at the desk. When I came down to get it, there were two men, well, actually three, if you count the one that hit me in the—"
"What?" Tristan bellowed again. "By the saints, Andrea! Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, really. Just a knot on my head is all," she answered. She then listened as Tristan cursed viciously, and in at least two languages that Andi could tell, before returning to the phone. "Love, hold the phone up to Sir Richard, if you will. For just a moment."
"Okay." Andi waved to Richard, who came to her side. She held the phone out for him and he bent his head to reach the receiver.
"Aye," he answered.
Andi could hear Tristan bellowing where she stood. She watched poor Richard as he winced several times, managed a few "ayes," before bowing to her.
"Himself would speak to you again, lady," he said quietly.
She put the receiver to her ear. "Hi."
"I should have been there," Tristan said.
"Tristan, don't," she said. "It is no one's fault except the idiots who did it. Okay? I'm fine."
Tristan grunted. "Andrea, you could have been hurt badly, or worse—"
"But I wasn't. The guys managed just fine. No wonder Dragonhawk and his mighty knights are still so legendary. Wait till you hear what Jason and Richard did."
"Don't tell me. That ridiculous head prank they do, aye?"
"How'd you know?"
"Those two cannot seem to come up with anything new of late." He sighed. "If you call the constable it will take hours to leave. And how will you explain your guardsmen?" He was silent for a moment or two, then cleared his throat. "Have you called a cabby yet?"
"No."
"Call one, get in it, have Jason ride with you in the back, and come home. I can protect you at Dreadmoor. I shall call the constable and let him know what has happened. He can question you here."
"What about these guys?" Andi glanced at her assailants on the floor and pondered the urge to kick them.
"I vow I hate to ask this of you, but there is no other choice. Bind them, lady, as best you can. Once you are safely away I shall have Jameson ring the constable. The authorities can handle the matter from there." He chuckled softly. "Probably just a couple of ruffians who did not expect such a lovely, frail lass as yourself to be accompanied by a fierce lot of ghosts."
A thought struck her. Should she remind Tristan of the third assailant? She wasn't about to tell him she'd spotted Kirk. No way. She'd tell him once she made it home.
Andi cleared her throat. "Frail?"
"Aye. Now get you home, fair maid. I'll be the one waiting at the gatehouse. Mooning."
"All right. I'll see you in a bit."
"I love you."
Her heart seized. "I love you, Tristan."
Andi listened once again as Tristan shouted for Jameson to hang up the phone. She placed the receiver down and looked around the room. The knights all stared at her, grinning.
She put her hands on her hips. "What?"
"Naught, lass," said Sir Stephen. "We was just noticin' those sweet words ye have for Himself."
"Aye, an' no doubt he'll be wantin' ye home fairly quick," Sir Gareth said with a grin.
"Did ye call the cabby, girl?" Sir Richard said. "I vow 'twould be a long hike on foot, what with no mount."
"The cab!" Andi snatched the receiver up, dialed the number listed at the desk, then placed it back down. She glared at the knights, who were still smirking. "There." She started for the stairs.
"Happy?" As she passed by one of the assailants, he groaned. Andi stepped on him, causing the man's breath to swoosh out of his lungs. The knights erupted into a raucous laughter.
"I need something to bind their hands." She glanced around the room. Finding a few pieces of twine behind the desk, she made quick work of tying the men up. The knights huddled around her as she completed the task. Finished, she stood and smiled. "There. I hope that will hold them." She couldn't resist one last kick to each of them, sending the knights into another round of laughter.
"Now I'll go get my bag and we can leave."
Jason jumped to her side as she started up the stairs to her room. "Nay, lass. This time I stay by your side till we reach Dreadmoor. I daresay Sir Tristan will be livid enough with the lot of us for allowing you to face these scourges alone."
Andi studied the young knight beside her. Quite unlike any seventeen-year-old of today, no doubt.
Warm brown eyes brimmed with more wisdom and bravery than any modern-day teenager she knew. His tall, lanky form had no trouble hefting the sword now sheathed in the scabbard. He was tough and unfearing and respectful. "You were wonderful, Jason. I would have no other guardsman watching my back."
"In truth?" he asked. "I daresay if those louts had known we couldn't really hurt them, there is no telling what they would have done."
"Well, we won't dwell on that. You saved me, and for that I'm grateful." She smiled at him just as she reached for the door. "Tristan thinks highly of you. I can see why." She threw open the door, ran over to the bed, and grabbed her bags, then followed Jason back down the stairs. After checking the innkeeper, she followed her ghostly garrison out the door, where the cab awaited to take her home.
To Dreadmoor.
She couldn't get there quick enough.
Andi's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
"My lady, your mouth is agape. And I vow 'tis time for me to leave you," Jason, in his invisible state, whispered in her ear.
"Uh-huh." Andi heard the mirth in Jason's voice as he left her. Her eyes remained glued to the man at the gatehouse.
Or, rather, the ghost at the gatehouse.
The infamous Dragonhawk stood just inside the gatehouse with a fierce frown, his bulky arms crossed over his wide chest. At six feet and six inches,
massive
and
intimidating
didn't even begin to describe him. And he knew it. Reveled in it.
Gone was his usual medieval garb. He looked like he did the first time they met—just as twenty-first centuryish as any gorgeous modern-day lord. No, much better.
The cab came to a halt and Andi slowly got out. The castle, lit in dim, flickering torchlight, shimmered against a black, star-dusted sky. She imagined it looked just as it had in the thirteenth century. And she just couldn't take her eyes off Tristan. Without much thought, she pulled her bags off the seat and walked up the steps to the gatehouse. Her stomach had a hundred butterflies beating their wings.
She felt like drooling.
"Pay the man." Tristan barked the order to Will, the gatehouse guard, then strode toward Andi. "I've got my lady to see to."
"Aye, my lord," Will answered. He ducked back into the gatehouse for the required funds.
Andi finally got hold of herself and closed her mouth. Tristan wore a pair of faded jeans, his sword strapped to his side, a black T-shirt, and a pair of hiking boots. His long dark hair nestled against his neck into a queue. She gulped. The T-shirt didn't hide one single muscle in that broad chest, nor did those jeans especially hide his thick, muscled thighs. God help her if she got a backside view.
Andi watched Tristan as he came closer.
And then watched as he stopped and turned to say something else to Will.
Whoa.
Perfect backside shot.
And it was well worth it.
Tristan turned and looked back down at her. His grin spread slowly, a wide, dimpling smile capable of knocking the wind from her lungs.
Breathtaking.
She stared up at him as he stood before her. She smiled and took a deep breath. "Hi."
Tristan looked down into his lady's eyes and wished heartily that he could grab her, pull her small body against him, and kiss her until she begged him quit. He clenched his fists at his side, fighting the urge to touch her. He wanted to breathe in her scent, taste her lips, feel her slight arms wrapped around his neck. He stepped closer and shoved his hands into the imaginary pockets of his imaginary jeans, so he wouldn't be foolish and try the like. "I am glad you're home." He smiled down at her. "I've missed you sorely, girl." The desire to run his hands over her and check every inch over for injury pained him. He settled, instead, for query. "Are you hurt? How is your head?"
"I'm okay, really. Just a little headache." Andi stared openly, from his booted feet, to his long, jean-
clad legs, and his black shirt. She finally met his eyes. "You," she said with a sigh, "look wonderful."
Tristan grinned. "I gathered as much, what with your mouth agape." He cast a bored look down at his attire.
Jameson's idea, bloody busybody."
Andi laughed, her nervousness slowly disappearing. She looked behind Tristan to the keep, to the drawbridge that was now down, waiting for her to pass. She knew there were ghosts littering the place, but making themselves scarce at the moment, probably at Tristan's command. She had an enormous headache, but right now it didn't matter. She looked at her knight, dressed in modern-day clothing, and felt her heart swell. He had an untamed, hungry look in his eyes. It made her feel wanted. Loved.
Desired.
