“Preston,” she began. “Tell your men to stop pointing their pistols at me.”

  He ordered it and they pointed them at Michael instead.

  “Not on him either,” she demanded.

  “You overreach,” he said, narrowing his eyes on her. “The pistols stay aimed where they are.”

  “Then I will not speak to you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I will still kill everyone here and take you back.”

  Michael smirked slightly. He wanted to see him try.

  “I don’t want to go back with you,” she told him. “You’re too late. You should have stayed with Amanda. I’m sorry but I’m in love with Michael—”

  That was all Michael wanted to hear. Her choice, when offered it, was him. He didn’t need to hear anything more. With a lightning quick movement that no one saw, he pulled his second pistol free from his belt with one hand and a knife from his jacket with the other. He flung the blade and shot the pistol at two different targets and hit them both.

  Weaponless, he leaped for Preston but was stopped by the last of Preston’s men. They fought and Michael landed the last, jaw-breaking blow.

  But more of his men rushed in. Michael recognized some of the men from earlier. They were the men who had joined his force. Apparently, they had just done so to gain entrance into the keep.

  It angered Michael and he fought harder. He fought for Charlotte, to keep her out of the madman Preston’s grip. Setting his gaze on the viscount, now holding Charlotte by the arm and a knife to her throat, Michael punched and sliced his way—using his dead opponent’s swords—through Preston’s men until no more stood against him.

  “Take a step closer and I slice her pretty throat,” Preston promise. “Let me pass.”

  “What’s this?” Came another voice. Michael looked to his right and saw the Baron of Surrey standing in the kitchen doorway, arms outstretched, palms up. “Preston, just what do you intend to do with that blade?”

  “You were supposed to kill him, Sebastian. What happened? Why did you betray me?”

  “Who says I betrayed you?” Surrey’s dashing smile appeared as genuine as if he were talking to a beloved brother. He stepped into the kitchen and his gaze settled on Michael. He slipped a knife out of his sleeve and pointed it at Michael, then laughed.

  Michael’s belly sank. Charlotte had released Surrey and now Michael was going to die in front of her. How could she defy him yet again? He wanted to shout at her. He wanted to live and save her.

  “You let him go,” he said, forgetting the baron and sounding more defeated by her than angry. He would never have all of her heart, and it broke his. She was the first person who’d ever made him forget all his ghosts. She made him want to abandon everything and start his life over with her here.

  She looked as if she were about to say something in her defense, but Preston stopped her.

  “Sebastian, were you this man’s prisoner?”

  “I was. Use caution with him, for he knows how to make do without a pistol. When I went to Croydon to kill him, he nearly killed me instead! With his bare hands!”

  Michael didn’t know why the baron was lying through his teeth, but it was good to believe he wasn’t being betrayed by a man who could be his…brother—his head was spinning from it all.

  Why was he lying to Preston now?

  “She remained quiet until he left to deal with you, and then she released me. Tell Pres about it, dearest.”

  Charlotte looked about to spit bullets at him. Behind her, Preston lowered the knife. “You remained loyal, Charlotte?”

  “Of course. Pendridge is a stranger. I was not choosing to stay with him. I was a prisoner under my father’s orders. I waited for you to come, Preston, but you were too busy with Amanda.”

  Michael stopped breathing. What? What was she saying? She was lying, too. She did choose to stay with him.

  “She means nothing,” Preston argued. “I sent her away. Forgive me for doubting you, but you also must remember that I could not come to you. He had shot me.”

  “Hmm, I should not forgive you for inviting Amanda to you to begin with.”

  Her pout earned her an indulgent smile from Preston that make Michael sick. He was going to kill Preston if he didn’t step away from his wife.

  Everything happened in a split second after that. Preston turned his back to Surrey for a moment and, in that moment, the knife the baron had been flipping up in the air, landed hilt first in his hand and then flew through the air, the blade sliced into Preston’s back.

  Charlotte screamed, alerting more men. Michael hurried to her where she knelt over Preston’s body. “Charlotte, are you with me?”

  She looked at him with tears running down her face. Seconds passed on endlessly until she spoke, “Aye. I’m with you, my love.”

  “Come,” he said, gently pulling her from her friend. He knew how it felt to be pulled away from a dead friend.

  Clements grinned at him, the way he used to when he and Michael were off duty and at a club, and Michael walked away with a woman hanging off him.

  “You love this one, Mick?”

  “Yeah, Jimmy, I love her.”

  “It’s about time!” Clements laughed, covering his mouth with his hand, like he used to do because he had a crooked front tooth. He was walking away backward. “Have fun on the journey, man.”

  “I’m going to try,” Michael promised as Jimmy disappeared.

  “Captain?”

  Captain? It was William.

  “We should leave, Captain. There are more men coming.”

  “Yes,” Michael said and smiled at him. He took Charlotte’s hand and, together, with the baron already gone, they raced out of the kitchen.

  “Do we have any men left?” he asked Will as they ran down the hall.

  “They’ll be back, Sir. Most of them grew afraid when they saw Lord Sutton and his men.”

  Michael hated that Preston and his buddies had been strong-arming the people for so long. Well, no more. Preston was dead and it was all going to stop. He eyed the baron while they ran out the back door to the keep’s inner courtyard. What was Michael to do with him? And Charlotte…how far would she go for her outlaw family?

  “Can we get to the garrison from here?” he asked William.

  When William nodded, Michael told him to lead the way.

  “We are not leaving?” asked Charlotte.

  “No,” Michael told her. “I’m not running. Whoever wants to come against me can try. But they won’t be victorious. If I run, what am I showing them?”

  “That you are clever enough to live another day.”

  He frowned. “You have no faith in me.”

  “I do. Forgive me.” She smiled and leaned up to kiss him.

  “Why did you release Surrey from his cell?”

  “I didn’t,” she replied. “I don’t know who did.”

  “’Twas me,” Colin said, coming to stand with them. “Most of us follow him. Not Preston.”

  This was getting ridiculous, Michael decided and stormed toward Colin and punched him in the jaw. The younger man went down like a sack of potatoes. He remained on the ground, out cold. Michael looked up at William. “You, too?”

  “No, Captain.”

  “Good. The garrison?”

  Still staring in shock at his friend on the ground, William hesitated one more instant and then ran.

  Michael and Charlotte followed him to the smaller garrison and stormed inside. They gathered all the weapons they could carry and brought them to the parapet.

  “What if we cannot beat them?” she asked him, looking worried.

  He smiled, reassuringly, while he handed out more weapons to the men already up there. “We’ll do fine. How good are you at shooting that thing?” he asked her, eyeing the arrow she was nocking to a bow.

  “Good enough.”

  “You would shoot your friends for me?” He didn’t want her to have to.

  “You have no faith in me.”

  “I do.” He smiled and kissed her. “Forgive me.”

  “I did, too…once.”

  Charlotte turned to the voice behind her and screamed. The arrow fell limply from her hands.

  Preston stood with them on the battlement. Surrey’s knife was still in his back. In his hand, he pointed a pistol at Michael. “Tell your men to stand down or I will kill you. Follow her example and drop your weapons and live.”

  “Do it,” Michael told William and the others and then led them by example.

  “Preston,” Charlotte said softly. “Put that pistol down and let me have a look at your wound.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “So you can twist the knife in deeper, Charlie?”

  “I never wanted to hurt you, Preston,” she told him. “You were all I thought I had.”

  “I was,” he whined, “and then this piece of rat scum—”

  “I had my father, Preston. You never wanted me to see it, but I had my father. He wanted to be there for me, but I never let him because of you. You used me for years. I was an oddity. A girl thief who—”

  “Who is a Horseman.”

  The parapet grew quiet.

  “What?” Michael turned to her. “What is he saying? You’re a Horseman?”

  “Aye,” she said so softly he barely heard her. But he did.

  Well, that was it. What more was there to say? She’d lied to him about everything. She was a Horseman. If he didn’t arrest her, what good was he as a lawman? No. It was over. He would give it all up. They all knew. Preston, Surrey, probably all the men. They all knew, and they were laughing at him.

  “She’s the Dark Horseman,” Preston continued happily.

  Michael stared at her with cool detachment in his half-hooded gaze. “You’re the one who killed that earl.”

  No. Please. He didn’t want her to be guilty of murder. She would hang.

  “No, Michael,” she insisted. “The earl pulled down my mask and saw who I was. Sebastian killed him to protect me.”

  “Oh, well that makes all the difference, Charlotte,” he told her harshly, disgusted by them all. “A man lost his life to keep you from jail, where you belong.”

  “Aye. Aye, you’re correct,” she admitted with tears forming in her eyes and falling over the rims. “I told you, did I not, that you would end up caging me. Oh, I wanted to tell you the truth, Michael. I—”

  “What is this?” Preston interrupted with a biting edge in his voice.

  Michael noticed the dark red stain flowing down his hose. He was losing blood. A lot of it.

  “You speak like this stranger means something to you.” In his hand, the pistol shook. His face was pale. He was dying.

  Michael thought the viscount might not have the strength to pull back on the trigger, but he wasn’t about to test the theory.

  “Preston, I have loved you for so long I don’t know what it’s like not to love you. I will remember the good parts of you.”

  She was trying to comfort him. She knew he was dying. He’d been her friend. Michael expected nothing less from her.

  Preston nodded and tears fell from his eyes. His knees gave out. He fell on them.

  Rushing to him, Charlotte took him in her arms. Almost instantly, he pulled the trigger. The pistol was fired, and Charlotte collapsed to the ground.

  No! She wasn’t just shot! No! Michael couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t lose her! NO!

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Michael?” she managed lightly. Michael held her close so she didn’t have to make much noise. “’Tis my side. See? A flesh wound.”

  He hovered above her, his sapphire eyes examining her wound. He looked mildly relieved. “What kind of doctors do they have here?”

  Mr. Simeon appeared beside them and had a good look at her wound. “Not anywhere near as skilled as when you come from, but she will make a full recovery.”

  Michael was so relieved he thought he might cry. He looked around quickly. It wouldn’t do for the men to see the captain of the police cry. Then again, maybe not crying when his friends were killed was the reason he used to wake up every morning and put the barrel of a gun into his mouth.

  She’d changed everything. She brought happiness back into his life. She made him feel human again, alive.

  “I’m going to have you taken care of, my love,” he promised her, then looked at Simeon, realizing that the time traveler had appeared in front of William. He didn’t care. “Go to the duke, tell him what happened and where we are—”

  Another voice came up from behind him. “What are you going to do against all the men coming upon the keep in the meantime?”

  Surrey. For some crazy reason, Michael smiled. It was help. That’s why when the baron asked for Michael’s coat, he gave it, not realizing what he meant to do.

  Surrey put on the coat and pulled the hood up over his head. Then he heaved Preston’s body off the ground, walked to the edge of the wall, and hurled him over the side.

  In Michael’s arms, Charlotte cried out and buried her face into his chest.

  “That should take care of that,” Surrey said, stepping away from the wall while Michael comforted his wife. “If you could kill the leader of the Horsemen, and the overseer of all the crime in southern London,” the baron continued, “you can do just about anything.”

  “But it was you who killed him, not me,” Michael corrected.

  “They don’t know that. They just saw you throw him over.”

  Michael shook his head. “I won’t take credit for stabbing a man in the back.”

  “Even if it was to save your wife?” Surrey asked with a challenging smile that went warm after a moment. “Tell me why I like you even after you punched my friend, Colin, in the jaw?”

  Because we’re brothers and you sense it. We have a sister.

  “Can I have my coat back?”

  Surrey winked at him and then handed over the garment.

  Michael saw Simeon standing with Colin and William near the edge. “What’s he still doing here?”

  “He followed me,” Surrey explained. “When I saw that he’d been hit—”

  “I’m talking about Simeon. Mr. Simeon!” he shouted. “Go get her help from the duke! Now!”

  The time traveler gave the two men he was with a sheepish look before setting his large dark eyes back on Michael. “Now?”

  “Now!”

  He disappeared. The men thought he fell over. William screamed out and looked over the side.

  Surrey stared in utter astonishment and then walked over to where Simeon had just been. “How did he do it?”

  “Do what?” William’s voice shook. “Where did he go?”

  “Ask him.” The baron pointed to Michael.

  “He can travel through time.” Michael didn’t care who knew. He had no time for notions about King Arthur and time travel and being the brother of one of the most infamous bad guys in fiction. Only, he was real. He wouldn’t tell them that he was allegedly Arthur’s son since, according to the duke, lives were at stake.

  He gazed at Charlotte, so thankful he didn’t lose her. “My love, just a little longer now.”

  “Michael, Preston must be buried.”

  “He will be.”

  “What do you mean?” Surrey demanded. “How can he travel through time?”

  “He was cursed by some witch to travel through time, never to settle down. Something like that.”

  “Hmm, that’s quite interesting.”

  Michael realized what he’d done. He’d just given Mordred a possible way to find his father. He cast Charlotte a worried look and then glared at the baron.

  “Don’t get any ideas, Surrey. No one can go in his place and he can’t bring anyone with him.”

  “There are ways around everything, Investigator,” the baron said with a smirk.

  Michael sure as hell hoped not.

  “Where, exactly, did you say you came from, Pendridge?”

  “Captain?” William asked, sounding nervous, still shaken. “I heard Mr. Simeon say to you that the doctors here were not as skilled as the ones from when you came. What did he mean? Are you one of them, too? Can you travel through time?”

  “No.” Michael tried to sound convincing, but Surrey’s unblinking gaze was unsettling.

  “You don’t sound like anyone from around here…in England.” Surrey said. “Is black magic at work here?”

  Michael laughed. “Listen to yourself—”

  “You said your Mr. Simeon could travel through time and you want me to listen to myself?”

  Simeon popped in again, scaring William and Colin out of their skin. “The duke is on his way and so are a few others.”

  “Who?” Michael asked.

  “Can you truly travel through time?” Surrey asked.

  “Mr. Green, for one,” Simeon told Michael, ignoring the other question. “We should all disperse.”

  Colin looked over the side. “The men are still down there.”

  “You should go speak to them, Investigator,” Surrey advised. “I’ll handle this Mr. Green person.”

  The baron was clever…and curious. Michael had to get rid of him. “No. You go down there and let those men know reinforcements are coming. Take Colin and William with you.”

  Surrey smiled and bowed to him. “As you wish.”

  He surrendered too easily but there was nothing else Michael could do short of knocking him out.

  “Michael?” Charlotte said, still in his arms on the ground. He wouldn’t leave her unless he had to fight to save her life. Then, he wouldn’t lose.

  “Yes, my love?”

  “I’m happy it was not your hand that killed Preston.”

  Yes. He knew she would be. However he felt about the viscount and the things he did and had done, Charlotte had her own feelings and they were different than his. He hadn’t wanted to be the one who took her oldest friend’s life, no matter what Preston deserved.

  “So am I, love.”

  The air behind Simeon began to sparkle. A breeze from the south filled Michael’s nose with the scent of apples. He thought it odd and turned to Charlotte to remark on it when he saw two men mounted on great warhorses appear from out of the shimmering clouds above her. The horses wore trappings depicting a dragon.