NOCB 070 - Time Raiders - Delilah Devlin - The Warrior's Touch |
Nocturne |
Harlequin Nocturne Bites (2011) |
Lieutenant Farideh Kalani expected her time-traveling assignment in ancient Scythia to be difficult, but fitting in with Amazon warriors is easy compared to being partnered with Sergeant First Class Caleb MacAvoy. The Texan soldier is infuriatingly smug and undeniably sexy. Then with one kiss, he awakens all Farideh’s desires. Now she’ll have to keep an eye on her mission
and
try to resist her attraction to Caleb. Because he’s the one man who might be able to breach the walls she’s built around her heart….
Fifty thousand years ago, after discovering that human females carried a nascent genetic potential that might one day develop into the ability to star navigate, the Pleiadian Council planted a dozen pieces of a bronze disk across the earth, hidden in darkness until mankind advanced enough to travel through time and find them.
And then, out of the ashes of the mystery-shrouded Roswell alien crash in 1947, a secret research project called Anasazi arose. Its improbable goal: learn to use the recovered alien technology for the purpose of time travel. General Beverly Ashton was the last to command this project before a dozen time travelers were inexplicably lost and the project disbanded.
However, the recent discovery of an ancient journal, known as the Ad Astra, has given Professor Athena Carswell the information she needs to begin sending modern time travelers back through human history in search of the twelve pieces of the Pleiadian medallion, which when fully reassembled will send a signal to the Council indicating mankind is ready to be introduced to the rest of the galactic community.
Project Anasazi has secretly been reactivated, and General Ashton, now retired, and Professor Carswell are continuing the project’s work. They are carefully recruiting and training a team of military men and women to make the dangerous time jumps.
But threats loom on the horizon, both from humans who would see the project ended—or worse, steal its work and use it for nefarious purposes—and from the Centauri Federation, which will do anything to stop humanity from learning how to navigate the stars….
Farideh Kalani gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering as she felt herself being pulled one way and then another while spiraling downward. She arrived with a jolt, her thighs spread over the back of a large black stallion, her body bent over his neck as the two of them thundered across rolling hills, the horse’s hooves cutting into grass and stone. Which would have been a problem before the time jump, because she’d never ridden anything larger than a pony at the county fair. However, now she reached down to catch the trailing reins, and forced herself back, pulling at the stone bit in her mount’s mouth.
The horse gave a shrill whinny and a little buck, but Fari pressed her knees into his sides, and gradually he gentled, easing into a trot.
She grinned, then raised her head and breathed the clean, brisk air of ancient Scythia. Heavy gray storm clouds were rolling in from the south, whipping up a wind that carried the scent of the sea, and salt she could taste.
Glancing down, she noted she sat atop her horse with only a padded saddlecloth between her dark wool trousers and the animal’s warm back. Her boots were stuck in leather stirrups sewn to the saddlecloth. She wore an embroidered jacket trimmed in fur around the cuffs and neck, with a row of gold appliqués embossed with gryphons and lions along the hem. She slipped a gloved hand under her sleeve to check for the silver ESC cuff, her ticket home, and breathed a sigh of relief to feel its warmth against her skin.
Grasping the reins with confidence, she trusted the skill that had been implanted in her mind, along with her new knowledge of the geography around her.
If she didn’t make the fortress city of Tanais by nightfall, she’d be pitching a tent, of sorts, in the rain, tying together two cushioned saddlecloths with those leather stirrups.
Although she had the knowledge to construct the tent, she wasn’t eager to lie on the hard ground within the tiny shelter, huddled for warmth against her current companion.
Sergeant First Class Caleb McAvoy was already too smug and too sexy for her peace of mind. Speaking of the devil… The pounding of a second set of hooves approached at a fast clip behind her.
“Darlin’, you’re pullin’ too hard on the reins.” As usual, the lazy Texas drawl managed to melt her and to irritate the hell out of her at the same time. He skillfully slowed his own roan gelding beside her.
Fari gritted her teeth again, then aimed a cool smile over her shoulder. “Cowboy, I don’t need your advice. I’m now an accomplished horsewoman.”
“Havin’ it in your head doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll instantly have all the confidence you need to use it—
ma’am
.”
“Sergeant, you’re my support for this mission, not the other way around.”
“Just sayin’…” The glint in his blue eyes revealed how much he enjoyed yanking her chain.
Still, she was the ranking member of this two-man team. “I sincerely hope you can manage to censor your advice once we’re inside. Even if they don’t know what you’re talking about, that smart-ass grin you’re wearing will look strange.”
“Babe, don’t worry about me. I’m all about the mission.”
“That’s ‘lieutenant’ to you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He said the right words, but the wink he added…
From day one, when they’d reported to the top-secret laboratory at Flagstaff, he’d been on her case.
There hadn’t been much opportunity to train, only a short week. After they’d both been left drop-jawed at the news that they’d be making a jump back in time to ancient Scythia to retrieve an artifact, they’d been assigned rooms within the facility and put on lockdown. General Ashton wasn’t taking any chances that word of this new mission might leak out. Rumors had it they weren’t the only ones heading to Scythia, so the mission timetable had been pushed up to make sure they arrived first.
Alien creatures, the Centaurians, were eager to prevent humans from securing all the pieces of the Pleiadian medallion, to keep earthlings from fulfilling the goal of completing the medallion and opening up a channel to an intergalactic council.
Fari had wondered what military brass she’d pissed off, to get such a farcical assignment, until she’d seen for herself that the claims Professor Carswell made were true. The laboratory really did have a time machine and several missions had already recovered pieces of a powerful alien medallion.
Once convinced, she’d been eager to be on board. Excited as never before. Feeling like Neil Armstrong stepping out into a new frontier.
Caleb, on the other hand, had sunk deeper into sarcasm.
Fari shook her head. She’d been warned he was stubborn to a fault. Hell, he’d even refused Professor Carswell’s offer to heal his shoulder with a piece of the medallion that had proved to have medicinal properties. He’d insisted he didn’t need any woo-woo medicine to “fix what wasn’t broke anymore.”
Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to use the damaged muscle. And there appeared to be plenty to spare beyond the shoulder that had suffered a gunshot wound.
The fact that her teammate had a physical flaw to match his less-than-perfect attitude were pluses in Fari’s book. Otherwise, he might have proved a major distraction. She could well imagine the handsome Texan in a pair of faded Wranglers and a cowboy hat. And certainly, his estimation of his own worth would fill a ten-gallon hat.
Not that he hadn’t earned his swagger. The number of al Qaeda terrorists he’d successfully hunted down to kill or capture in Iraq had made him a legend among the soldiers of the 1st Infantry Division.
His uncanny tracking ability didn’t have a thing to do with luck, and was why he’d been paired with her for this mission.
However, he thought all she brought were her Persian heritage, which would allow her to blend with the natives, a single silver bar on her collar, and a chest full of commendations for work she could never talk about to anyone outside her tight circle.
Fari couldn’t wait for a chance to knock him sideways with what she could do, and she had no doubt the opportunity would come. All six feet four inches of SFC McAvoy would make for a spectacular fall.
They crested the ridge, to find the Sea of Azov stretching to the horizon, its white-edged waves slamming the coast. The tall wooden palisade surrounding the city of Tanais was tucked along its shore at the mouth of the river by the same name.
She gave her horse a nudge. “For once, stow the banter. And it’s strictly Scythian from this point forward. We can’t be heard talking a language no one understands. If Centaurians are already among them, they’ll make us in a heartbeat.”
“Then I can’t keep callin’ you lieutenant, ma’am.”
“True. I’ll address you as Caleb.”
“And what will I call you?”
“Mistress,” she said, smiling sweetly.
His gaze narrowed, dropping to her mouth, then shifted over her shoulder. “Hey, sugar, we’ve got company.” He tipped his chin to the next ridge, where two lone figures on horseback watched. Females dressed as men.
Fari pulled the battle-ax from her belt, nudged her horse in the ribs and tugged on the reins, causing the animal to rise on his hind legs. Raising the ax into the air, she gave an ululating cry.
“Didn’t know I was gonna be ridin’ with Xena,” Caleb muttered.
When the horse’s forelegs landed again, Fari cocked an eyebrow at her companion. “Remember, we were given all the knowledge we need to complete this mission when we made the jump. Even if you don’t like this woo-woo stuff, trust it.”
She nudged her horse again and bent low over his neck, letting the wind catch her hair as she raced toward the palisade, leaving Caleb cursing behind her.
She didn’t pull back to slow her mount until she was halted at the gate.
A guard stepped into her path and eyed her clothing. “Your business, mistress?”
She’d been outfitted in warrior’s clothing, suitable for a Scythian woman of means. “I’m seeking an audience with Queen Hippolyta.”
The guard crossed his spear over his chest, then stepped to the side. “Follow the main road. You’ll not miss the palace.”
She waved her thanks, then indicated Caleb behind her with a jerk of her chin. “He’s with me.”
The guard stared, his forehead wrinkling into a frown. “Is he Greek?”
“Hardly. He’s a Celt and my captive,” she said, suppressing a grin.
“Is he destined for the auction block?”
Aware that Scythians did a brisk slave trade, she shook her head. “He’s mine. My servant.”
“Be wary of the queen, then, mistress. One as big as he is will surely catch her eye.”
Just what Fari needed. They were supposed to get into the palace under the radar, and snag the piece of the medallion they suspected powered Queen Hippolyta’s famous belt.
Legend had it that the belt had been a gift from her father, the Greek god Ares. Which was odd, since Hippolyta wasn’t Greek. But the supernatural qualities of the belt and its mysterious origins had been enough of a red flag for the project to send a team to recover it. A clue cemented when the medallion fragment recovered during the last mission pointed toward Scythia.
“I appreciate the warning, but her highness would only toss him back. The man barely speaks any Scythian, is lazy and hasn’t figured out that women are the stronger and smarter half of the species. No, he’d not last long.”
“Tell it to the queen,” the guard said, laughing as he eyed Caleb’s reddening face. “You don’t want to cross her. Best to keep your head down, Celt. Women rule here, and we’re grateful to the gods every day for their blessings.”
Caleb snorted, and passed the guard with a quelling glare. “Layin’ it on a little thick, ma’am?” he said under his breath when they were well away.
“Just getting into the role.” But her attention was already drawn by her surroundings. She’d expected a rough wooden fortress. Not much of Scythian construction had survived for archeologists to study, other than the fortress’s foundations and kurgan burial mounds.
Fari wished she had a camera, but settled for mental “snapshots.” She’d expected rugged and natural, not sophisticated artisanship at every turn. Carved bear and wolf heads peered down from beneath the edge of the wooden walk two stories up, sturdy scaffolding that permitted the city’s defenders to easily scale the wall in times of attack. Painted signage over doorways advertised each establishment’s wares. And there were murals everywhere depicting women in battle, riding on horseback and brandishing swords, as well as winged gryphons attacking horses, eagles attacking stags.
And then there was the clothing.
When Fari had first seen her embroidered jacket with its gold appliqués, she’d been sure the richness of detail was overkill. Apparently not.
Citizens here wore their wealth around their necks, on every finger and wrist, and as rich appliquéd panels that weighted down the hems of their jackets and gowns.
Something Fari quickly came to appreciate given the strong, cold wind blowing in off the sea.
She kept her horse’s pace slow, her chin high and her expression set and proud. Caleb rode slightly behind her, as was appropriate for a man in an Amazon’s service.
She remembered how he’d snorted when he’d discovered the roles they would play. He’d glanced down his nose at her small frame and raised both eyebrows at Professor Carswell and General Ashton. “Seriously? Her as an Amazon?”
Fari was lucky both women had understood she’d need to allay any fears that she was the right choice for this assignment.
While he’d still been smirking, she’d lashed out, turning and pushing off into a cartwheeling leap, clipping his chin with her toe. Before both feet landed on the ground, she’d swept her leg against the back of his knees and given him a gentle shove.
Sitting on his ass in the middle of the conference room, he’d snorted again.
“Any other comments, Sergeant?”
“No, ma’am,” he’d said, raising both hands in mock surrender.
That had been before she’d learned about his shoulder injury, although she wasn’t entirely sure she’d have treated him any more gently had she known.
His actions and words since then might still have smacked of insubordination, but she thought he must act that way around anyone who challenged him.
She was all right with that. Even while he teased and smirked, there was still an underlying hint of respect. One that warmed her, made her feel proud. To be held in his regard, with everything she knew about his combat record—well, a little back talk didn’t bother her a bit. Not that she’d let him know it.
The closer to the center of town they drew, the better the shops and houses appeared, and the streets were cobbled here. At the end of the road rose another tall wooden wall, its gate manned by a guard much sharper than the last one. His uniform tunic and trousers were immaculate, his posture straight and proud.
Fari bent toward him as he approached. “I seek an audience with our ruler.”
“She’s not holding court, mistress. Visitors arrived earlier at the docks. She’s hosting a feast.”
Fari’s stomach tightened. “Visitors from where?”
“Athens.”
She didn’t have to glance back to tell that Caleb was cursing under his breath. So little was known about the Greeks’ arrival, they’d had to guess at a date. They’d hoped to arrive before Theseus and his band of male companions did. With the palace filled with foreigners, security would be tighter.
Fari leaned closer to the guard. “I’ve come all the way from Sarmatia. Is there any way for me to extend my greetings to the queen?”
The man’s gaze swept her face, interest kindling in his eyes. “There’s a dinner, but it’s already begun. If there’s room in the hall, you should be given a seat. The livery is this side of the palace. That one,” he said, jerking his chin toward Caleb, “can pay the stable master for a meal.”
She nodded in thanks and waited as he opened the gate.
Once inside, she dismounted, indicating to Caleb to do the same. Leading their horses, they found the stable.
After handing over her reins and coin, she left Caleb with a warning glance to stay put, and climbed the steps to the keep.
The doors were open, no doubt to help air the stifling room, and she walked into a large hall lined with long tables and benches. A raised dais at the far wall held a dozen seated men and women. At the center, wearing a tall gold crown in the shape of fern fronds, sat Queen Hippolyta.