If he’d answered when she’d called out, he would’ve been down on the ground already where he could immediately join in the fight. He briefly considered staying where he was and picking off her attackers one by one with his rifle. However, with the swarm of black-clad men and women swirling around Safara, dodging in and out on the attack, he couldn’t risk taking a shot for fear the bullet would go right through one of the enemy to hit Safara, too.
She was speaking in a language he didn’t understand. Something with a deep, guttural sound to it, nothing like the French, Spanish, or Arabic that he spoke. Her opponents answered in kind. While he couldn’t decipher the exact meaning, that they were taunting her came through loud and clear.
Out of desperation, he fired several shots over their heads, hoping to drive them back and draw their attention away from Safara. They froze for a heartbeat but then immediately renewed their attack. Cursing, he dropped the broadsword down to the ground and landed right by it. Grasping the pommel in one hand, he bellowed a challenge to the bastards who dared to attack a woman alone. Son of a bitch, was that the same guy who’d attacked Safara the other night? What the hell was going on?
“Hurt her and you die!”
For the few seconds it took him to get close to the action, he kept his eyes on Safara, her lethal grace mesmerizing. The effect on him was primal, a warrior’s heart hungering for a mate whose fierce nature matched his own. She was dangerous, no mistaking that truth, but there was such beauty in the way she moved. Unfortunately, the same was true for the crazies doing their best to kill her.
So not happening, not on his watch.
He paused to fire another round of shots with his sidearm, this time closer to his targets. One of the men barked what sounded like an order. The two women backed away and took off running up and over the ridge out of sight. Eli holstered his gun and then swung his sword in a wide arc as he yelled, “Safara, I’m coming up beside you.”
She spared him a quick glance. “Get back, Eli. This is my fight.”
“Don’t be selfish, Safara. There’s enough of these bastards to go around.”
Before he could stop her, she tried to slide in between him and the remaining six fighters. “Damn it, Eli, back off.”
Three of the fighters had other ideas and broke away to face Eli. From that point, it got interesting. Their curved-blade swords were a blur as they came at him. He took pride in holding his own against multiple enemies, even if it was mainly due to beginners luck.
Even in the chaos of combat, there were moments of pure clarity. Who were these guys? They’d all been cut from the same mold, the similarities between them startling. Their clothing was nearly identical, varying only in the shades of gray and black in a style unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Tunics hung down to their upper thighs over close-fitting pants. Their soft-soled boots came halfway up their calves.
They all had long hair, too, which was dark with streaks of silver and dark gray despite their youthful faces. Their eyes were so pale as to be almost white. He’d seen that shade of gray before, or at least close to it. Safara and her father, grandfather, and even her aunt all had eyes about that color. He’d put the similarity off to a strong family resemblance. That all of these crazies had it, too, was a coincidence he couldn’t ignore.
“Eli, watch out!”
He blinked and jumped back as the tip of his closest opponent’s sword came within a hairbreadth of slicing open his neck. “Son of a bitch!”
“Stand back-to-back with me.”
Good thinking. At least no one would be able to come at either of them from behind that way. Regardless, he hoped like hell they could end this soon; the muscles in his arms and legs already burned with the strain of the prolonged fight.
Suddenly, other voices entered the fray as three more men charged out of the cave shouting in that same guttural language. Had they all been having a fucking party in there? This second bunch wore similar clothing to the others, but with insignias that made them look more like a uniform. They also each carried one of the same lethal blades as the other bunch. Eli’s gut twisted into a knot of fear and fury, worried they were reinforcements. To his surprise—and immense relief—that wasn’t the case. He didn’t understand what they shouted to Safara, but she nodded and kept her attention on their original opponents. As soon as the trio moved into fighting range, the guy who had attacked Safara shouted a warning to his men about the added danger.
Thanks to the distraction, Eli wounded the guy who’d almost slit his throat, while Safara did some damage to the man closest to her. Drawing blood triggered a mass retreat of the fighters. Eli drew his gun and got off several shots before they were out of range. He thought maybe he scored one hit, but it was hard to tell once they got lost in the shadows under the trees. He started forward, prepared to follow them all the way to hell if that’s what it took to end their threat for good. Safara grabbed his arm.
“Don’t, Eli. There are too many of them.”
He wanted to argue the point, but then another man staggered out of the cave. He was dressed in the same uniform the other three wore, and his arm hung limply at his side as if too weak to lift the weight of the sword. As soon as he appeared, the three remaining fighters retreated to stand on either side of him. They continued to hold their weapons at the ready but made no attempt to attack Eli and Safara.
The newcomer was clearly their leader. He struggled to catch his breath before he spoke, directing his words to Safara. She shook her head and said, “My companion doesn’t understand our language. Speak English if you can.”
He gave Eli a considering look before finally responding in English. At first, his harsh guttural accent made him difficult to understand. “You partner with a Paladin?”
Back to that again. Who the hell were these Paladins anyway? “No, I’m not a Paladin. I don’t even know what that is.”
The other man clearly didn’t believe him, but he’d already turned his attention back to Safara. “I am Sworn Guardian Vedin s’Krom. My Blademates and I were tracking those rogues in our world. We almost had them cornered when they escaped across the barrier and then two of them working together slammed it shut again.”
Pausing to press his hand against the back of his head, he then held up a bloody palm. “They disabled me first, since none of my Blademates have the power to control the barrier. It took me time to bring it down again.”
Eli struggled to follow what the man was saying, and not just because of his heavy accent. What barrier was he talking about? Maybe the crime scene tape, which now hung in tatters, but that didn’t explain all the strange clothing and odd weapons. No country he knew of called their soldiers Sworn Guardians, not to mention the guy talked about fighting in their world like they weren’t all standing on the same piece of terra firma.
His brain hurt trying to make sense of it all, while Safara clearly understood exactly what the man was talking about. He was about to demand that she explain what was going on when Vedin’s legs gave out on him. His men caught him before he hit the ground.
Safara bit her lower lip and then pulled Eli aside to whisper, “We need to get them out of sight. Can we take them to your cabin long enough to get Vedin patched up? We’re all vulnerable out here right now. I also need to tell my father what’s going on.”
He had no reason to trust the four men, but he did trust Safara. “Fine, but then you will explain what the hell is going on here.”
