FREE! In The Arms of My Enemy (Completed!) Book 1

Battle Won by Blood

William cried out and collapsed, clutching his right thigh. Fidelia screamed, falling to her knees beside him.

"N-no!" Fidelia pressed her hands against the wound, desperate to stop the hot blood that leaked out.

"Fidelia, run," William groaned, his eyes closed tightly against the pain. "Get out of here!"

She shook her head, tears blurring her eyes. Before she could re­spond, Edmund's arms wrapped around her chest and hauled her to her feet. He dragged her once again to the boat.

"Please, he's dying!" Fidelia begged, struggling to look back at William. He was trying to push himself upright.

Edmund ignored her and instead shifted his arm around her bruised neck for a better grip, cutting off her air.

Desperately, Fidelia reached up and clawed at his eyes. He yelped, and his grip loosened for an instant. Fidelia lunged away from him, tripping again on her long skirts. She landed face-first in the sand, the stinging grains blinding her.

She slapped her hand down, trying to push herself to her feet, but her fingers wrapped around a warm, familiar handle. She clutched it instinctively as she regained her footing and stumbled away from Edmund. With an angry howl, he grabbed her hair and yanked her backward, spinning her to face him.

The gunshot shattered the night air, ringing in Fidelia's ears.

Edmund froze, and his hand slowly fell from her hair. Fidelia couldn't breathe. They looked down.

She had shot him, right in the gut.

He stumbled back and fell, clutching at the wound. Fidelia shud­dered, inching toward him. He looked up at her with sorrowful eyes. He whispered something, and Fidelia leaned closer to hear.

"You wore ribbons in your hair." His voice was hoarse, and he lifted a hand, touching one of her dark red curls with bloody fingers. "The first day we met as children. Do you remember? I never forgot. I knew . . . I knew I would love you forever . . ." His voice trailed off, and his hand dropped to the ground.

She covered her mouth, stifling a sob. What had she just done? Bile rose in her throat, and she turned away, retching.

"Fidelia?" William's voice sounded far away. Blood roared in Fidelia's ears. Gentle hands touched her shoulder, making her jump. William pulled her into his arms, and she sobbed against his chest. She had just killed a man. Not just any man, her childhood playmate, her friend. When she relived the moment the gun fired, she didn't see the deranged man who had tried to kidnap her. All she could see was the blond-haired boy who had playfully teased her and chased her with frogs.

"Fidelia, you can mourn later, but right now your sister needs you." William's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, grounding her. She focused her gaze on him, forcing herself to breathe. He was right; Lottie was defenseless against Le Coquin.

She launched to her feet but froze when she saw William. He had tied a strip of his coat over the wound in his leg and had somehow managed to reach her, but she knew he wouldn't be able to go any far­ther. If he didn't get to a doctor soon, he could die.

"Go," William said firmly, pushing her away.

"I-I can't leave you!"

"Go!" William shouted, shocking her out of the numbness that held her frozen. "Lottie needs you. I will be fine."

Tears burned in her eyes, and she shook her head even as she backed away to William's horse. "Do not die," she ordered, spinning around to swing herself up into the saddle.

William's strained chuckle was the last thing she heard as she spurred the horse over the ridge and toward the old abandoned mill.

The horse flew across the grassy ridge that wrapped around the bay, and Fidelia leaned over his neck, urging him on. As they neared the mill, two other horses waited beside the entrance, tossing their heads at a commotion inside.

Fidelia jumped from her horse before it had fully stopped. Sounds of a struggle filled her with determination, and she pushed through the door. The four-story mill was dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon that glowed down a massive hole that went through the center of each floor. It must have been where the gears and millstones had been when the mill was still operational.

A scream from the top floor reverberated off the old wood, sending several roosting birds fluttering to other rafters.

Fidelia pushed on up the flights of stairs. Was she too late? Panting from the steep climb, she stumbled onto the top floor, pausing at the sight that met her.

Two men were locked in a battle dangerously close to the hole, Le Coquin wielding a sword and a young man with curly black hair utiliz­ing a rotten chunk of wood. Lottie lunged into the circle of moonlight, an old harness attached to the pulley system clutched in her hands.

With a shriek of fury, Lottie threw the harness over Le Coquin, trapping his arms at his sides, and tried to pull him away from the young man. Le Coquin outweighed the slight girl, however, and he spun, knocking her aside like a pesky fly.

"Lottie!" Fidelia cried as her sister fell dangerously close to the edge. Fidelia darted toward her. Before she could get close enough to aid, however, Lottie looked around, a wild, angry look in her eye that made Fidelia's heart proud. Lottie kicked at a lever beside the hole, sending gears whirling. She shouted in triumph.

At the same moment, Le Coquin worked one arm through a loop in the harness and managed to thrust his sword at the young man, splitting through the rotted wood that he raised in defense. The tip grazed the lad's chest at the same instant the slack in the rope attached to the harness snapped tight.

Le Coquin's shout of surprise was cut off as he was yanked from his feet and into the air over the hole. But the rotted wood supporting the pulley system was too weak, and with a crack, it snapped. Le Coquin vanished down the hole, his scream echoing through the old mill.

And then—silence.

Lottie had bested him.

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