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13

Present Day

Highgate Cemetery, London

Maggie came to with a jolt.She thrashed, not knowing where—or when—she was. “Shit—shit!”

Someone grabbed her arm. “It’s all—”

She punched whoever it was straight in the face.

“Ow!”

Blinking, she looked up into the face of a now-very-annoyed Gideon. “Oh. Um. Hi.” She only then realized she was sitting on his lap on the floor. His arms had been around her, and she had been passed out up against him, sitting perpendicular atop his legs.

Now he was holding his nose, checking his hand periodically for blood. “Ow,” he repeated dully.

“Sorry.” She smiled apologetically. “I was startled.”

“Apparently.” When his nose appeared to be fine, he leaned back against the stone of the tomb wall and watched her carefully. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Just…one hell of a flashback.” She leaned against his chest. She wanted the comfort of him, and the warmth. The air had grown cold in the tomb, and she could hear rain pattering against the roof. “How long was I out?”

“Half an hour.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“No apology needed. What did you recall?”

“I think Harry used to go by Johnny. We were on a boat from London to America, and I asked you to see the Wild West.”

“Ah, yes. I remember that voyage. You asked me to dance, if I recall.”

She nodded, letting her head rest against him. She still felt a little loopy and out of it. It would take her a minute or two before she felt well enough to stand. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you too badly that night.”

“Hardly. We danced, and I took you for a walk around the deck underneath the stars before I bid you goodnight. I don’t think I could have been happier.” He paused. “Well, all right, that is not true, but given the circumstances, I knew I could not have asked for more.”

She laughed at his innuendo. “I don’t know what’s changed this time around. Maybe it’s just the culture? Women are allowed to be a bit more brazen, even if we do have a long way to go. Or maybe it’s just…okay to be morbid now. Or maybe I’m just morbid now.”

“Those enamored of all things dreary and gothic have always existed. It’s not a new aberration. Your fear of my power has faded over the centuries, however. You used to cower at the mere suggestion of anything supernatural. Now, you seem content to let them loose on the world to terrorize humanity.”

She wondered why for a long moment. About what in her had changed. And then, all of a sudden, it made sense. She laughed quietly.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Come now. You can’t do that to me.”

“I can, and I will. I’ll tell you when we get back to the house, how’s that sound?” She stretched and felt her back pop. He was a very comfortable chair as people went, but she had still been slouching that whole time.

“An excellent plan. This storm is going to get much worse before it gets any better.” He tightened his embrace for a moment and placed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I am glad the memory you dredged from your mind was one of the more pleasant ones.”

“It was.” She couldn’t help but tilt her head just a little bit toward him, even as she encouraged him to let her go so she could stand. “I did just figure something out, though. Something important.”

“This thing you’ll tell me when we get back home?” He got to his feet and brushed himself off, picking a few pieces of dry leaves from his pants. “This mysterious epiphany you just had?”

“I have to keep some mystery, don’t I? You know all my secrets. I have to make some new ones.” She plucked a twig from his back and flicked it aside.