A Ticket to Medieval Times: Vintage Voyages, #1

By Ashley Holloway

Take a trip with us...

...to Medieval Times!

Wander the halls of an English castle.

Get lost in the crowd at a fair.

Fight in a tournament.

But beware...

Losing could mean death.

Join Vintage Voyages today with your Ticket to Medieval Times!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Holloway
• Release date: Aug 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393845263

Ashley Holloway

While other kids played outside, Ashley Holloway spent much of her childhood devouring as many books as she could. By the time she reached junior high, she decided she wanted to learn how to create fantasy worlds and stories to share with the world, even going so far as to write to her favorite author at the time for advice. A few failed attempts and many, many years later, she has stopped ignoring the writer within to co-author upcoming sci-fi novel The Parnassus Initiative with Tom Chattle. Her interests range from sci-fi and fantasy to murder mysteries. When she's not trotting the globe, Ashley lives in Colorado. Her other passion is clogging - the kind with taps, not wooden shoes!

Book preview

Chapter 1

Police! Zari yelled over the sound of her feet pounding the pavement. Freeze!

After another block of chasing the drug dealer, she struggled to maintain a regular breathing pattern. It would do no good if she finally caught up to her target and couldn't cuff him because of her panting. Breathe in, breathe out. Zari pushed herself a little harder and managed to close the gap between them despite having to navigate around the startled pedestrians. It didn't sound like her backup would arrive anytime soon, but thankfully, his short stature combined with her training had kept him from losing her.

Her fingers brushed his battered leather jacket. Before she could close her fist around it, he veered to the right and changed course down a side street huddled between two brick buildings, their crumbling walls covered in graffiti and in desperate need of repair. Caught off guard, Zari skidded to a halt and pivoted to follow. She cursed under her breath—his maneuver had cost her several seconds and could give him a valuable lead.

Around the corner, she found luck was in her favor today. A chain-link fence with two coils of rusted barbed wire split the alley ahead. The criminal peered down at her from his perch near the top and swore.

Police! On the ground now! It never worked, but she always tried, anyway. No use wasting energy if she could get him to give up without a fight.

Tapping into her adrenaline, she burst across the remaining distance. After another glance at Zari, he stretched his stubby arms and managed to grasp a section of wire free of barbs. Before he could leverage his tenuous hold, Zari jumped and clutched his ankle. A swift yank left him dangling by one hand to the wobbly fence. It gave her enough time to climb up a few steps to grab his arm and throw him to the asphalt.

She leaped to the ground beside him and drew handcuffs from her utility belt. Not ready to give up the fight, the short man bounced to his feet and crept backward. He pulled a knife from his back pocket, flipped out the blade, and brandished it.

With a smirk, Zari readied her stance to give him less of a target. So, you want to add assaulting a police officer to your charges? Perfect. That'll up the sentence a few years.

Only if you catch me, bitch. He swiped at her with a tattooed arm.

Anticipating his attack, she hopped to the side and brought her arm down on his. Instead of releasing the weapon, he used the momentum to swing the blade around at a different angle and aim for her side. Zari ducked underneath. A push to his back sent him stumbling a few steps.

Before she could reach him, he rotated and thrust the knife at her stomach, forcing her to retreat. With her attention focused on the razor-sharp blade, she only saw his fist a moment before it connected with her cheek bone. White spots floated across her vision. The waves of pain that shot through her head threatened to break her focus.

A silver crown on his canine glinted in the sun as he advanced on her, but he underestimated her pain tolerance. When Zari brought her heavy police boot down on his foot, his smile turned to a scowl. As expected, the distraction loosened his hold, and she knocked the knife from his grasp. It skittered across the ground. Without even a glance at the lost weapon, he leaned to the side and kicked her in the gut. Zari flew into the brick wall, and he rushed to the alley entrance.

The padding from the bulletproof vest beneath her wool shirt did little to soften the blow, but she had no time to reflect on the building pain. Zari raced after him. Years of training allowed her to close the gap in a matter of seconds. She grabbed his shirt and shoved him face-first into the decaying brick. The criminal sagged beneath the pressure of her hand. When she reached for his wrists, he thrust his neck back. She released his arms and leaped away to avoid the head-butt.

He spun away from her, but before he could make a full turn, Zari's fist connected with his jaw. Her next punch landed at his stomach and doubled him over. An elbow between the shoulder blades sent him sprawling to the asphalt.

Zari straddled him and grabbed her cuffs. You're under arrest, asshole.

After reading his rights and bagging the knife, she guided him back to her SUV. By then, her cheek throbbed, but she ignored it.

Throughout the ride back to the precinct, he refused to answer any of her questions, which was fine with Zari. While a full confession would help build a case against him, she wasn't sure she could stomach whatever half-ass excuses he would offer for selling drugs to teenagers. She only hated how much time the quiet gave her to think about her current situation.

A few weeks ago, she had a partner who would have helped her take down this jackass in half the time. They might not have even had to chase him since Jack's hulking size often left criminals quaking, preferring to surrender willingly rather than risk a beating. Then, he had been involved in an on-duty shooting. Zari hadn't witnessed the event first-hand, but she'd seen no reason he wouldn't take his two weeks administrative leave and return to duty after a thorough psych eval.

Right before her Internal Affairs interview, Jack had begged her to swear under oath she'd witnessed the shooting and it was clean, but he refused to say why. Confused, she hadn't listened and told Internal Affairs everything as she knew it. Weeks later, she still had no idea if she would have lied had she known the consequences. Even in her short years on the force, she had seen how cutting corners could be a slippery slope. If anyone had found out what really happened and that she had aided him, not only would her career have been on the line, but it could have called into question every decision she had made while on duty. As it was, all the criminals Jack had arrested had an opening to appeal.

Zari shook her head and hauled her capture into the precinct where she rushed through processing him. With a glance at her watch, she frowned at the time. It never failed; when she tried to get anywhere right after shift end, there was always a pile of arrest paperwork to trudge through. Not that she didn't want this dirtbag to spend time in jail, but did the red tape have to make it so difficult to get through an already stressful day? Now she was cutting it close to a meeting with her old college friend Mason Montgomery, who she hadn't seen in years. Although she remembered he enjoyed the attention from a fashionably late entrance, she preferred punctuality, especially in a business setting.

Almost an hour past schedule, she finally clocked out. When Zari passed through the police station, she ignored the tense atmosphere. Although being shunned for her role in Jack's forced retirement had left her lonely, she preferred rooms falling to silence over the venomous glares and whispers.

Zari had scheduled her meeting with Mason so she would have plenty of time to freshen up beforehand, but the delay gave her only a few minutes to change out of her uniform. She drove across town and used the time to pass a hand over her short black locks to smooth them into place. In the parking garage, she dabbed on a little makeup to cover the swollen bruise already forming on her brown skin. She had no idea what Mason wanted, but she certainly didn't want to waltz around the multi-billion-dollar corporation looking like she'd just lost a bar fight.

Satisfied she at least appeared presentable, Zari checked in at the lobby's front desk, and a security guard escorted her through the maze of a building to a wing on the third floor. Whatever the reason for the meeting, she hoped it was worth her time. After the day she'd had, all she wanted was to curl up at home with a glass of wine, and she had no energy left for his dramatics.

Chapter 2

Zari settled into the soft leather cushions, resisting the urge to lay her head back and close her eyes. The adrenaline from her fight had worn off long ago and left her weary. She had taken a pain reliever at the precinct but still ached all over. Her pain had almost been worth it, though, for the gaping stare she had received from the stuffy secretary manning the reception desk. With pursed lips, the woman had waved her to a waiting area across the room and phoned Mason.

To distract herself from the repetitive clicking of the secretary's manicured nails on the keyboard, Zari pulled out her phone and reread the email she had received from Mason. Over the last three days, she hadn't found any hints indicating why he wanted to see her. He simply asked for an hour of her time and ended by saying he intended to make her an offer she couldn't refuse. Zari's snort earned a huff from the pinched face woman. It seemed Mason's flare for the dramatic had not waned over the years.

Since receiving the message from Mason, she had wracked her brain to guess his intentions. It must be a business offer since he had asked to meet at his office, but Zari had no idea what she could do for him. From what she learned during a quick search, Mason had worked his way up the ladder of a technology consulting firm after college. Never content with taking orders, he had opened his own business only a few short years later. Even though Zari was more than ready for a career change after the scandal clouding her the past few weeks, she could not imagine her skills would align with Montgomery Enterprises' job requirements.

A chime from the antique grandfather clock in the corner pulled Zari from her thoughts. Despite her delay at the precinct, she had still managed to arrive with a few minutes to spare. Her leg bounced when the curiosity wore off and boredom set in. To pass the time, she studied the reception area, and her eyes landed on a replica painting of Leda and the Swan by Leonardo da Vinci displayed prominently on the wall across from the entrance. Interest piqued, she crossed the room and tilted her head to assess the exquisite details.

Based on a Greek mythology tale, the scene depicted Leda embracing a swan—Zeus in disguise—with two sets of infant twins peering up at them from broken egg shells. The original painting had presumably been destroyed in 1625, but a copy by da Vinci's pupil had cropped up years later, the actual basis for replicas such as the one hanging in Mason's office. Although cheap printouts of the famous piece could be found online, the imperfections made it clear this was hand-painted rather than printed on a machine. She found it odd the artist would recreate the depiction on multiple panels like da Vinci had done, though. Reproductions these days were almost exclusively completed on a single piece.

Zari squinted and leaned closer, face inches from the canvas. Artists often took a few creative liberties with a copy, but this piece had several unexpected variances from the work she had studied in her art history course. The landscape appeared more detailed than the version created by Leonardo's pupil, the only depiction available for reference. She could almost count the leaves on the trees in the background.

Footsteps approached from her left, and she straightened to find Mason striding toward her with a toothy grin splitting his face. Although they were close in college, she had not seen him since graduation. He had filled out over the years, chiseled features replacing his wiry frame. A charcoal tailored suit accentuated his broad shoulders and toned biceps. Not a single gray strand showed through the thick black hair cemented in place with shiny gel. While he had sported scruffy facial hair before, he now had a clean-shaven, smooth face.

I knew you would notice the da Vinci. With open arms, Mason stepped toward her. Zari tensed but accepted his proffered embrace. Despite her preference for maintaining personal space even amongst friends, he had always been a hugger.

Mason rested both hands on her shoulders and frowned down at her. What in the world happened to your face?

What, I've aged too much for you? A smirk tugged at Zari's mouth.

I'm sure you know what I mean. When his smooth finger grazed her cheek, Zari flinched. Fire spread across her face at the gentle touch. Mason pulled back. Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

She waved him off. It's fine. I'm used to it by now. Nothing an ice pack and a nice relaxing bath won't cure. Her eyes drifted back to the painting. Once again, you're confusing terminology. People don't generally call something a 'da Vinci' if it's a copy made from a replica.

The corner of his mouth lifted. Still eager to school me, I see. You'll be perfect for the job. Before she could respond, he faced the reception desk. Marjorie, we'll take our meeting in conference room B. And I'll need the Freeman folder.

His reference to her last name took her aback, but Zari decided to hold her mounting questions until he had a chance to explain. If she kept distracting him, she would never get home to her bath.

Marjorie batted her thick eyelashes. Of course, Mr. Montgomery. Right away, sir.

You're a doll, Mason called to her before she disappeared around the corner with a leather-bound portfolio tucked under her arm. He turned back to Zari and passed his twinkling chocolate eyes over her. You have not changed a bit, my friend. Gorgeous, as always. Even with the shiner.

One of the few women not susceptible to his charms, she cut her gaze to the now vacant hall. Neither have you. Still quite the charmer, I see.

Mason chuckled and guided her into a narrow hall. When they passed an open meeting room, all the furnishings appeared high-end. Large windows offered breathtaking views of the city and the mountains beyond. They exchanged pleasantries, but she steered him away from the questions about her work. Tension formed in her shoulders at the thought of her current situation. Since neither of them had a spouse or kids, they quickly exhausted topics, and Zari was grateful when they reached the conference room. Marjorie had set glasses of water in front of two rolling leather chairs with the portfolio centered at the head of the table. After settling into his seat, Mason motioned for Zari to join him.

Once the receptionist left the room and pulled the door shut, Mason leaned back with steepled fingers. You're probably wondering why I asked you here.

I'll admit you've piqued my interest. She waved to the portfolio in front of him. Especially now that I know I have an entire folder.

I have a proposition for you. An employment opportunity, if you will.

Zari slid her water glass back and forth on the glossy table. So you said in your email. I know we didn't keep in touch, but I assume you know I went into law enforcement after graduation? I'm not entirely sure what I could offer at a technology company. I can barely operate my personal computer.

It was an exaggeration…but barely. She knew her way around the basics, but Zari doubted she understood even a small fraction of the capabilities available on the technology she used.

With a chuckle, Mason shook his head. I think you'll find your skillset is exactly what we need. Let me take a step back. How much do you know about Montgomery Enterprises?

She chewed on her lip. Not much. I know you parted ways with a bigger firm a few years ago and started this company not long after. I haven't followed the specifics, but it seems you've done quite well for yourself here. Her hand motioned to the room.

We've focused a lot of our attention on research and development, seeking out niche opportunities not currently offered elsewhere. Specifically, services we can offer to our clients with, let's say, flexible spending accounts.

Zari massaged her temple. The florescent lights in the room had magnified her headache. Or maybe it was Mason's cryptic explanations. You're not making this sound any more up my alley. I would think you'd want someone with ample experience in conducting research.

He straightened and scooted to the edge of his seat. You haven't let me finish. A couple of years ago, we stumbled upon a discovery which has changed our entire focus.

Instead of rubbing off, his excitement sent a surge of anxiety through her. While she hadn't closely followed the rise of Montgomery Enterprises, she had done her homework since Mason had contacted her. There had been no announcements of upcoming tech releases, nothing to hint at a change meriting his response.

It was possible whatever he had planned wasn't ready for the public yet, but she knew he had done research on her, as well. He wouldn't bring her on board for development. The most logical explanation would be an off-the-books venture. Those often ended toeing legal—and potentially ethical—guidelines.

Zari took a sip of her water to give herself time to quiet her racing thoughts. Mason, get to the point. You're making my head hurt.

Mason slid back into his chair and pouted. Always so serious. Fine. I'll sum it up in two words. Time travel.

Chapter 3

Zari blinked and waited for him to continue…or laugh. What about time travel?

Mason banged both palms on the table. That's our niche!

With crinkled brow, she studied his expression. His eyes were lit with barely controllable excitement, and he had shifted back to the edge of his seat. From the way he watched her, she should probably understand what he meant, but she drew