“Sam.” Darian’s voice was soft and gentle. “Whatever that device is, it won’t work here.”
“Right. Because we’re in this other world called Javara.” How long would they keep this up?
He put his arm around her waist and guided her toward the small castle. She glanced over her shoulder, wanting to catch another glimpse of Jace. He seemed so alone. She knew what that felt like. But he wasn’t alone. He was home and had his brother and mother, and a whole lot more people. She couldn’t afford to empathize with him.
She faced forward and squared her shoulders. “Let’s go inside.”
Sam followed Darian up the wide stone stairs to a massive wooden door. This place was truly amazing. He held the door open and she stepped inside, stopping for a moment to allow her vision to adjust from the brightness of outside to the more muted lighting inside. They were in a foyer of sorts with stairs off to her right and left and an open archway before her.
“This way.” Darian pressed his hand against the small of her back and urged her forward. The warmth from his palm sank through her T-shirt, warming her. It was chillier here than it was at home. Just how far had they brought her?
“I really need to use your phone.” If her cell phone wouldn’t work here that had to mean they had a landline she could use.
When Darian said nothing, she glanced back at him. His jaw was tight, a muscle twitching in the side of his face.
“Welcome home.” The deep female voice gave her a start. She’d thought they were alone. A woman rose from a high-backed chair that sat in front of a cold fireplace. She was probably in her early fifties with long white hair that had tinges of blonde in it. Her figure was well rounded and a smile wreathed her face. Her familiar pale-blue eyes told her this woman was related to them. She was wearing a dark-green dress that fell to her ankles.
“Mother.” Darian strode toward the woman and embraced her.
Sam watched them, jealous of their obvious closeness. She was very conscious of her old jeans and scuffed boots. She started to brush them and stopped. Anger flooded through her. Why should she care what she looked like? What they thought of her? She was the one who was kidnapped.
“Excuse me, but I need to use your phone.” She really should tell the woman her sons had kidnapped her. But maybe that wouldn’t surprise her. Maybe they did this all the time.
That thought was depressing.
She felt like banging her head against a wall. Why should she care if they kidnapped women all the time? Because, in spite of it all, she wanted to be special to them, to feel as if it was her they wanted and not just some random woman.
She really needed therapy. She’d obviously been alone for way too long.
Darian released the older woman. “Mother, this is Sam Calloway. Sam, this is my mother Edwina.”
“Samantha,” she corrected as she stepped forward and offered her hand. “But everyone calls me Sam.” The older woman took her proffered hand, but held it rather than shake it. Edwina studied her, taking in Sam’s appearance.
“You’re not from here, are you?” She looked at her son for confirmation.
Darian shook his head. “The tapestry brought her here.”
Sam noted he didn’t tell his mother that the tapestry had brought him and Jace to her ranch first. At least, that was the story they told her. She didn’t know what to believe any longer.
Edwina paled and her grip on Sam’s hand tightened. “Oh, my dear, I’m so thrilled you’re here. Welcome to Javara.”
While the woman really did appear to be happy, Sam had had enough. “Look, I really don’t know what kind of con you and your sons are running.” She slowly disengaged her hand and took a step back from mother and son. “But enough is enough. I need to get home.”
Edwina glanced at her son for an explanation. Darian shrugged. “She doesn’t believe what we told her.”
The older woman waved her toward a second chair before the empty hearth. “Sit, Samantha, please. I’ll answer any questions you have.”
“I don’t want any questions answered. I just want to go home.” Sam was suddenly tired. Tired of the lies and tired of the pressures of her life. She didn’t need this whole kidnapping thing on top of everything else.
Sadness suffused Edwina’s face. “And you shall go home, if that is still your wish in three days when the tapestry reappears.”
“More like two and a half now.” Darian didn’t sound the least bit pleased.
“So, your sticking to the whole three-day thing, are you?” Sam went to the chair, sank down onto it and closed her eyes. God, she was so tired.
Large hands enfolded hers. She opened her eyes to find Darian kneeling at her feet, concerned etched on his handsome face. Behind him, his mother stood, one hand on his shoulder. She looked worried as well. You couldn’t fake that kind of emotion.
“I think Samantha could use a rest and some food.” Edwina gave her son’s shoulder a squeeze and released it. “Take her upstairs and I’ll have a tray sent up.” The older woman gave Sam a forced smile. “Please remember, if you have any questions at all, I’m here.”
“Thank you.” Sam didn’t quite know what else to say. She should be railing at her kidnappers, demanding to be set free. Instead, she felt as though she should be on her best behavior, as though she were a guest in their home.
Darian held out his hand. “Come.”
Sam rose without taking his hand. She was already getting in way too deep with the Hunter family.
Darian didn’t know whether to curse or fall into the depths of despair. It was obvious Sam still didn’t believe she was in another world. She believed they’d brought her somewhere else in her world.
How could she deny the magic of the tapestry?
Neither of them spoke as he guided her up the winding stone staircase. He thought about taking her to the guest room, but detoured instead, taking her to his room. He ushered her inside and closed the door behind him.
Sam’s eyes widened as she took in the space, and he tried to see it through her eyes. The hearth was cold, but there was wood and kindling waiting to be lit. Two large wood chairs with embroidered cushions sat before it with a small table in between. A fur rug lay in front of the chairs. There were two windows, both tall and thin, allowing in light. Two big storage chests sat along one wall and another at the foot of the bed. He noted it was his bed she was staring at. He wasn’t a small man so his bed had been crafted with his size in mind. A carved head and footboard kept it from being too plain.
Some clothing was hung from pegs on the wall by the bed and several swords and daggers were mounted above the hearth. Darian noted someone had brought up his baggage from his trip. His sword and his satchel of clothing sat on the trunk at the base of the bed.
Sam looked at him and swallowed hard. “This is your room, isn’t it?”
He nodded and slowly walked to her. “You will be safe here.”
Her gaze went to the bundle at the end of the bed. “You own a sword?”
He inclined his head. “Our world is different from yours, Sam. We protect ourselves with our swords. I’m also a fair archer and am skilled with a knife.” He wanted her to understand he could and would protect her.
Darian went to the trunk and picked up his sword. He drew the four-foot blade from its scabbard and brandished it in front of him. Sam made a squeaking sound and took a step back. He ignored the fear in her eyes and did something he hadn’t planned on doing, something he knew he shouldn’t do without discussing it with Jace.
The pledge was one every young man learned from his father from the time he was old enough to understand he might never have the opportunity to use it. It was a sacred oath, the foundation of their very civilization. Darian took a deep breath and repeated the words that he prayed would change his life forever, would make her understand his depth of commitment to her.