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There was a sharp crack behind her like a branch snapping underfoot. Journey jumped, then turned around.

She saw nothing but the woods. But she had a sense that something... or someone... was watching her from within them. It was probably a deer; they were big enough to snap a branch if they stepped on it. But her back crept.

Though she felt foolish, she called out, “Hello? Is someone there?”

&n

bsp; There was no reply. No sound.

Deer were active at dawn and dusk, not in the middle of the night. And an animal would have run and made more noise when she’d shouted.

Journey’s sense of uneasiness increased. She might have bad instincts when it came to men who were dangerous to her heart, but she was an excellent judge of physical safety. Her rule of thumb for traveling alone was to listen to her gut and trust that if something made her nervous, there was probably a reason. That rule had kept her safe so far.

Her gut told her now that she was in deadly peril.

She would have screamed, but the noise of the river would drown out her voice. Instead, Journey yanked up her skirts in both hands, then bolted along the narrow riverbank. There was a stone bridge further on, which led to more woods, and then another residential neighborhood. If she could get across the bridge—

“After her!” The voice was rough and male. “Quick, she’s getting away!”

Adrenaline surged through Journey’s blood. She dared one quick glance over her shoulder as she ran, her heart pounding.

Six men in black cloth masks had emerged from the woods. Their brandished swords glinted sharp and deadly in the moonlight. And they were gaining on her.

Journey tore along the riverbank, her breath searing her lungs. But though she ran as fast as she could, the footsteps behind her came closer with every step she took. Terror nearly stopped her heart. She’d never make it to the bridge. If she jumped into the river, with its treacherous undercurrents, she’d probably be swept away and drown. But at least she’d have a chance. She started to turn toward the water.

Another man stepped out of the woods in front of her, sword in hand.

A shriek burst from Journey’s throat. Then she recognized him. Her scream changed into a choked gasp of surprise. It was Lucas.

“Go over the bridge!” He gestured behind him with his free hand. “I’ll protect you.”

Journey ran past him, her chest heaving for breath. The men chasing her shouted in anger and confusion, but the blood was pounding so hard in her ears that she couldn’t understand the words. Her feet slammed into hard stone. She’d reached the bridge.

Halfway along its short span, she heard Lucas’s voice rise above the tumult. “Surrender, or I’ll burn you to ash and gone!”

Burn? Journey thought. With a sword?

Out of all the bizarre events of the last few minutes, that was so strange that it stopped her in her tracks. Gasping for breath, she turned around.

Lucas held the masked men at bay. There were six of them to one of him, but none of them moved to attack him. But they still held their swords at the ready. They seemed to be at a stand-off.

Even in the terror and shock of the moment, Journey was struck by how magnificent he looked. His hair and the embroidered dragons on his tunic shone like platinum, his jewelry of gold and diamonds glittered in the moonlight, and he stood poised with a deadly grace. She had no doubt that he could strike like lightning.

“Who sent you?” Lucas demanded.

The fury in his voice would have terrified anyone, and she saw several of the men flinch. But none replied.

Lucas spoke more softly, but with an even more frightening chill in his voice. “Who sent you?”

The men still didn’t speak, though they shifted uncomfortably.

“I see,” said Lucas. “I would recognize your voices. Or your accents, perhaps. But you only delay the inevitable. You know you cannot fight me. Surrender.”

Is he really that good? Journey wondered. Is any swordfighter good enough to fight six to one?

She bit her lip, trying to figure out what she should do. Run and get help? Stay so she could help if a fight started? She wasn’t armed, but maybe she could throw something and distract them. Journey looked around for throwing material, but saw nothing.

“I have made two calls for surrender,” Lucas said. “This is your last chance. Surrender, or face the dragon!”


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