Part 1 (1/2)

Surviving Demon Island.

by Jaci Burton.

Dedication.

To my agent, Deidre Knight. Thank you for believing in this story and in me, and for being a solid rock when I need one. I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me.

To my editor, Shauna Summers. Thank you for your patience and guidance through this process. I learned so much from you about what makes a good story, from characters to pacing to world building to romance. You made this a much better book and I'm so grateful.

An additional thank you to editor Micahlyn Whitt for your valuable insights during the revision process.

To the gang in Paradise!you've been there with me for years, and you're the first place I go to share triumphs and pitfalls. Thank you for your friends.h.i.+p, your kindness and generosity, and for being such an important part of my daily life.

To the BBs!Angie West, Melani Blazer, Shannon Stacey, and Mandy Roth!for putting up with the whining for so many months; for reading, editing, and offering insights, and for encouraging me with nudges and laughter. You symbolize the true meaning of friends.h.i.+p, and I couldn't make it through the day without you.

To Mom!for teaching me to believe in myself, and for standing by my side no matter what. You were my first and my best champion. I love you with all my heart.

To my other Mom!you've taught me about duty and sacrifice, about kindness and the beauty of love everlasting. What a true romance you have had throughout the years and one I hope to emulate.

To my sister!my first and forever best friend. Thank you for always being someone I could turn to.

To Kevin, Matt, and Ashley, for your love, your support, and your excitement. Thank you for hanging in there with me during these years of craziness. I love you all.

To Charlie!you are the reason I started this journey. Thank you for your faith and encouragement; for the time you take to read, edit, and discuss plot; for putting up with the stress, the dirty house, and the lousy cooking. And most of all, for the backrubs. Because you held my hand and took this walk with me, I believed anything was possible. I love you, babe.

Chapter One.

G et into character, Gina. You're a fighter, a warrior, and this is your moment to save the world. et into character, Gina. You're a fighter, a warrior, and this is your moment to save the world.

G.o.d, she loved these scenes. Deeply immersed in the role, her thoughts became the character's thoughts. She was now Melissa!archaeologist and adventurer, prepared for the battle to come, only needing the director's cue to spring into fight mode.

Funny how much of the real her was like this character, how closely her own thoughts mirrored those of this feisty adventuress. This was one of the easiest roles she'd ever played.

'And, action!'

She glanced around the stone keep, at the priceless artifacts on the walls. 'You know, Rorg, I understand the allure of cas.h.i.+ng in on all these treasures. But the difference between you and me is that I have scruples, and you have none. You take from the past and use it for gain in the future. I can appreciate its beauty, its history, but I could never remove anything that doesn't belong in our time.'

'And that's why you fail, my dear Melissa,' he said, taking one step closer.

Lost in the fantasy, she backed up against the stone wall, realizing she had only two choices: Die or jump. One misstep and she would be impaled on her opponent's sword. But she hadn't come here to lose.

She hated to lose.

The tip of Rorg's sword was pointed at her heart. It was a life-or-death moment. Hers. The next step would decide. She had only a second to think because the time warp was unstable. If she didn't kill Rorg soon and get the h.e.l.l out of there, she'd be forever lost in a century that wasn't hers.

'Make your choice, b.i.t.c.h. I don't have all day.'

Her lips curled in a sneer. She refused to show fear to this barbarian, this monster who had killed without remorse. 'Gee, and I thought I'd have time to get a manicure first.'

Decision made, she leaped from the stairs and landed with a thud on the cold stone floor, then made a mad dash for the broadsword hanging on the wall. Lifting it off with both hands, she whipped around, swinging just as Rorg caught up with her. He sidestepped her attack, laughing at her.

'If that's the best you can do, this won't take long at all.'

'Oh, but I was just warming up.' Arrogant a.s.shole. Keep on thinking I'm just a weak woman and no match for you. Lots of now-dead men thought the same thing. Arrogant a.s.shole. Keep on thinking I'm just a weak woman and no match for you. Lots of now-dead men thought the same thing.

Her breath blew white smoke in the early dawn, the chill still lingering despite the quickly rising sun. The torches flickered, trembling as she rushed past. She scrunched her shoulders then relaxed them again, hefting the sword up with one hand and leveling it in Rorg's direction. Excitement drove her. She loved being in battle again. She lived for these moments.

He nodded appreciatively, obviously having a.s.sumed she'd never be able to hoist the heavy broadsword with one arm.

'You have strength, I'll give you that. But it won't help. You're an amateur, a little girl playing a game reserved for grown men.'

'If only I had a dollar for every time I heard that one,' she said, grasping the sword with both hands and swinging it in a half-circle toward Rorg's middle. His sword met hers and the clash of steel against steel reverberated as the time warp sizzled, transporting them back and forth between ancient times and present day, between a fully functional castle and ruins. Momentarily distracted, their swords locked at the hilt, Rorg looked around at the constantly changing landscape. Gina used that moment to backhand him, then kick him in the stomach with the heel of her boot. He grunted and stumbled back, but managed to maintain his balance.

Too bad.

Rage turned his face a mottled red. He roared and dove toward her, his hands pulled in to his chest and his sword pointed dead-on. She stepped back, then lunged forward as he retreated. A game of thrust and parry ensued, a seemingly civilized match of fencing fought with medieval broadswords that had been used by highlanders to forge their freedoms. She fought for freedom, too, to free the past from a devil of the future before it was too late and all their lives were irrevocably altered.

'You won't win, b.i.t.c.h,' Rorg spat, hatred sharing s.p.a.ce with the madness glowing in his dark eyes. 'The time portal was my my secret, secret, my my wealth. Everything would have been mine if you'd just left it alone.' He punctuated his sentences with each slice of his sword. 'Why!didn't!you!die?' wealth. Everything would have been mine if you'd just left it alone.' He punctuated his sentences with each slice of his sword. 'Why!didn't!you!die?'

'Because I enjoy tormenting you too much, Rorg,' she replied, leaping from the ground to a long wooden table as he swung repeatedly at her knees. The loud whoosh of steel slicing air was the only sound in the quiet void between past and present.

She jumped over and over again, avoiding the blade. Her leg muscles burned, the heavy boots and sword taking their toll. But she refused to give up. She was the world's only hope. 'You won't win. I won't let you destroy the people I love.'

Sweat poured from her brow, the leather she wore growing warmer as the sun arched higher. The waves of the portal s.h.i.+mmered like silvery heat on blacktop road. There wasn't much time and she needed the element of surprise. Crouching as if in defeat, she waited for his at tack. When he drew close enough, she twisted around and swung upward with all her might, slicing his sword arm. His eyes widened and he dropped the weapon. Without sparing a second's hesitation she went in for the kill, leaping from the table and slamming her boots into his chest.

He went down like a bull elephant, his body hitting the ground with a loud thud and sending up a cloud of dust from the floor. Before he could gather his wits she jammed the blade downward, rendering his fighting arm useless. He screamed in pain and reached for his sleeve, a crimson trail flooding his white s.h.i.+rt. With one booted heel she pinned his throat and pointed the sword at his black heart.

'Have I ever mentioned how much I hate hate to be called b.i.t.c.h'?' She affected a deep sigh and said, 'I'm afraid you'll have to die for that, Rorg.' to be called b.i.t.c.h'?' She affected a deep sigh and said, 'I'm afraid you'll have to die for that, Rorg.'

'Cut! Print! That's a wrap, folks. Great job, Gina, Bob.'

Heaving rapid breaths to fuel her lungs, she was lost in this moment, in the action, the adventure, the pure thrill of besting an opponent. She barely registered the director's words.

'Gina. Wanna get your foot off my neck?'

She looked down at the strangled voice of her nemesis, remembering that this was a movie scene. Rorg was the character Bob played, not her real opponent. And she was crus.h.i.+ng his larynx with her boot.

'Oh. Sorry, Bob.' She blinked and forced reality to once again enter her mind, lifting her foot and holding out her hand. He grinned, grasped her palm, and leapt to his feet.

'You scare me sometimes, Gina,' he said, kissing her on the cheek. 'I think you enjoy this aspect of your work a little too much. But great job kicking a.s.s.'

'You know me, Bob. I live for the action scenes. And right back at ya on the a.s.s-kicking.'