“I’m Kieran Dunne,” the brown-haired man says, again with that warm smile as he leans against the doorjamb where the barn door stood just moments ago. He crosses his arms casually over his chest and nods toward the other man. “That’s my brother, Bastien.”
I glance back at that guy, and he doesn’t smile. Expression hard, he stares at me.
“One of you better explain things,” I snap, now swinging the gun toward the man named Bastien since he appears to be more of a threat, despite his brother taking my gun away before. “One minute my horses are going crazy, and the next minute, monsters are trying to kill me. I better get some answers, or I’m apt to start shooting.”
The blond man looks irritated. “If you’ll just relax—”
“Relax?” I screech in indignation. “You have to be fucking kidding!”
Kieran laughs. “She’s got a mouth on her now, huh, Bastien?”
I glare at the handsome man. “You act like you know me. You said I knew you when you took my gun.” My attention goes to Bastien who stares at me dispassionately, so I swing my regard back to Kieran. “You said I have a mouth on me now, implying I didn’t before or that you knew me before. I can assure you, as a rancher’s daughter, I’ve been dropping F-bombs since I was thirteen.”
“We need to explain things,” Bastien says flatly. “Perhaps we can go into your house and sit.”
“I’m not inviting you into my home,” I seethe with mounting anger and fear. “You’re both strangers to me, and I’m starting to freak out.”
“I can explain everything,” Bastien says with a huff of annoyance. “If you just—”
“Allow me,” Kieran says, straightening up to face me. “You are the princess and sole heir to the throne of Kestevayne in the dimension of Vyronas. It’s this whole other world, which you are originally from. Through the power of magic, you’ve been living here, in Earth’s First Dimension, for the past seven years, with no memory of your prior existence. The erchras are hunting you… to kill or capture, we don’t know. But more will come.” He points at himself, then Bastien. “We are here to ensure your safety and return you home.”
My jaw drops, and I’m actually sorry I asked for an explanation. Of all the stories possible, I couldn’t have made this up. “You’re nuts,” I stammer.
But, how do I explain the erchras? That’s a creature not of this world, I’m sure of it. Up until now, I guess I’d been thinking perhaps it was an alien, but the mention of magic has me second-guessing that.
Kieran said more would be coming. I don’t buy any of his bullshit that I’m a princess with no memories, but I am terrified that there could be more of these creatures. I can’t defend myself against them.
With a heavy sigh, I realize there are no good options. If they’re going to hurt or kill me, they could do it here just as easily as in my house. They had my gun, and still saved me from certain death.
Even though I think I may be tumbling into madness, I hear myself say, “Come on inside. I could use a drink, and you can tell me your story.”
CHAPTER 4
Bastien
Bastien moved around Thalia’s living room, examining knickknacks and photos that represented her life over the past seven years. He vaguely listened in on the conversation between Kieran and Thalia in the kitchen as she prepared drinks. While he didn’t really want to be sociable, he knew Thalia needed some time to adjust. The alternative was to kidnap her with brute force to take her back to Vyronas, and that wasn’t really an option. He had no desire to further traumatize her.
For now, they were safe. All the erchras Ferelith had sent were dead, and Bastien cast a perimeter warning spell around the area to sound off if any more intruders appeared. He doubted more would come anytime soon, as it would take time for Ferelith to realize her demons had failed.
Kieran’s voice was boasting as he regaled Thalia with a trumped-up tail of once dispatching twelve erchras with nothing more than a butter knife, which elicited a genuine laugh from the princess. It was a low, husky sound of amusement, and Bastien knew that sound well. There was a time that laugh could’ve driven him to his knees in desire, but now it did nothing other than stir up annoyance at his brother’s shameless flirting.
From the mantel above the fireplace, Bastien picked up a framed photograph of Thalia’s parents, Jaron and Selena Clairmont. They’re sitting on horses with the Teton Range in the background.
That scene never happened, of course. It was a manufactured memory, part of the complex magical spell that brought Thalia here in the first place. It’s her actual parents’ faces, but they were never here in Wyoming. They died in Kestevayne when the throne was taken.