Free Golden Blood by Melissa Pearl Page A

her
forehead in that adoring way guys do in the movies. He’d then wrap
his arm around her waist and walk her out to her bike where he’d…
but who was she kidding. As she stood fighting off complete
humiliation the only thing she got were pins and needles in her
toes. She closed her eyes and held in the scream.
    If it weren’t for this stupid tingling that
was clawing its way up her body, she wouldn’t need her privacy.
Without taking her eyes off the floor she turned the opposite
direction and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster.
She wanted to walk the whole way out of sight, but the tingling had
reached her ribcage forcing her to sprint before she reached the
corner.
    Tearing down the next hallway she made a
beeline for the bathroom hating the self-loathing that followed
her. Rushing to the end stall, she flung open the door. She didn’t
have time to think about it, the tingling had already reached her
shoulders. Bolting the door with one swift click, she closed her
eyes and ground her teeth against the imminent pain.
     
    * * * *
     
    Paris, France -
1793AD
     
    Gemma’s body felt like it had been stabbed
with a thousand knives as she got to her feet. It always took a
moment to adjust and it always hurt. Clothes that smelt stale were
thrown in her direction. The coarse fabric would feel horrible
against her skin and she cringed to think what disgusting things
lay hidden in the folds of the male breeches she was holding.
    “Quickly! Get dressed and hide your hair,
Gemma.” Her father’s voice was urgent. Something must be wrong. She
obeyed, in spite of the smell, and watched her siblings do the
same, concern flickering over their faces as they soaked in the
situation. With the help of her mother, she managed to shove her
hair down the back of her shirt. It felt uncomfortable against her
skin, but she knew she had more important things to worry
about.
    Scanning her surroundings, she took in the
cobblestone street, the cold stonewalls and the filth that
plastered both. The stench in the air was pungent, but much worse
was the vibration of discontent that swirled around her.
    “Where are we?”
    “Paris.” Her mother’s voice was severe.
“1793.”
    “The French Revolution?”
    The distant sound of an angry mob could be
heard wafting in the air and Gemma felt a shiver run down her
spine.
    “My timing’s a little off. According to my
analysis, these events shouldn’t be occurring until tomorrow.”
    “We’ll be fine, Dad. Just tell us what you
want to do.” Dom was always so calm in crisis situations. He loved
these trips the most.
    Gemma’s pulse pounded in her throat as she
listened to her father’s steady voice.
    “Marie Neveu and her daughter, Emilie, have
been harboring a clergyman. They are going to be discovered at any
moment. This will send them to the guillotine. I’ve found a safe
hideout for them on the outskirts of the city, but we must get
there before sundown.
    “Dominic, I want you to take your sisters.
You three are in charge of getting the woman and her child to this
point.” He pointed at a hand-sketched map and waited until three
heads nodded. “Your mother and I are going to find the man who can
arrange safe passage to England and make sure he gets them out of
here on time.”
    “Are these two worth the risk, Alistair?”
    Gemma knew her mother’s main concern was her
children. She didn’t care who else’s life could be at stake.
    “Nothing is certain, but these two lives
could enhance our future. Emilie is a masterful pianist. Who knows
what she might bring to our culture.”
    “We’re risking this for a pianist?” Ruby
said.
    “We’re risking this to better someone else’s
life.” Alistair Hart’s eyes bore into his eldest daughter.
    “Sorry, Daddy.”
    Gemma reached for her sister’s hand and gave
it a little squeeze. “Let’s go.”
     
    It did not take long to find the house. Gemma
cringed to think the palatial Parisian home would probably