Page 7

Seven

T he ride home from Uncle Durr’s wedding was a silent one. I was thankful Gertie offered up her car. I needed the time to think, and I didn’t like to lateral travel when my mind was running like a mouse through a maze searching for reasons Marco sent that chest.

My time traveling abilities also included lateral travel. I can jump across the ocean and end up in Paris for the night, if I desired. I could carry someone else, even a NAT the acronym for not-a-time traveler, to Paris with me. Luckily, Caiyan was at the wheel, so I didn’t have to worry about accidentally landing my outhouse in the middle of the highway, or Mount Vesuvius.

Caiyan’s dark waves had been recently cut. The square set of his jaw as he focused on the road told me he wasn’t ready to talk about things that had transpired in the last week. The week before I left Marco stuck in the past.

We entered my house. Gertie’s gray tabby cat stood on the kitchen table in greeting. Caiyan shooed it away and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”

“Caiyan, I don’t want to hash this out right now.”

“Right now. Yer going to eat, then rest. Weel talk aboot other things later.” He removed his suitcoat and hung it on one of the hooks next to the door. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing tanned, muscular arms.

I sat as instructed since my legs felt wobbly and my chest heavy. He took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, setting it on the table in front of me before disappearing into the living room. When he returned, his tie hung loose around his neck and he carried a shot of bourbon and a scotch neat. He placed the shot on the table next to the glass of water. “Drink these.”

“Caiyan, I don’t want?—”

“Weel make ye feel better.” He downed half the scotch and sat the glass at the place across from me. “See, I feel better already.” He walked into the kitchen, pulled open the refrigerator door, and grimaced.

“I know it’s a little sparse. Gertie’s on another diet and forgot to go food shopping.”

“I’ll make do.” He removed a carton of eggs, a bag of spinach—he frowned at the expiration date and tossed it in the trash—shredded cheese, and an avocado. Within minutes, the kitchen smelled like heaven. He plated scrambled eggs topped with cheddar and sliced avocado.

He set them in front of me. “’Tis no wedding cake, but weel settle ye from the travel.” He made a plate for himself, set it across from me, and took his seat.

I opened my mouth to tell him about Marco.

“Eat.” He stopped me before I spoke. “Weel talk later.”

We ate in a strained silence, and I wished I had stayed for the cake. “Where have you been?” I finally broke the uncomfortable quiet.

“Working.” He glanced over at me and found me staring at him with my eyebrow cocked, indicating his answer lacked substance. “I spent some time with Itty.”

Aunt Itty was Caiyan’s great aunt who had the gift of time travel, but with age, her skills became a bit wonky. Maybe Itty could persuade Caiyan to give himself up.

“How’s Aunt Itty?”

“Getting on fine. And before ye ask, I’m no turning myself in, so dinnae think yer going to be in cahoots with her to persuade me.”

Cripes. Caiyan told me he couldn’t read minds. It wasn’t a skill any traveler inherited, but damn he was in my head. “Jake’s going to arrest you tomorrow.”

“I willnae be here.”

“Where will you be?”

“Working.”

“Caiyan, you can’t keep running. The WTF needs you. Why can’t you try to cooperate? Maybe General Potts will cut you a deal.”

“I’m naugh finished.”

“Finished with what?” I wanted to scream the question. Instead, I used self-control and popped a bite of avocado into my mouth.

“Working.”

“You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met.” I slammed my fork down, which rattled loudly against the plate. So much for self-control.

“Ditto.” He pointed to my glass with his fork. “Now take the shot, then drink the water.”

I threw back the shot more because I knew it would help me sleep than because he ordered me to do so. “I want to talk about the chest.” And the other thing.

“Ye should get some rest. Things willnae be any different in the morning.”

“I want to talk about it. I want to understand what went wrong.” I placed my fist against my chest as if I could massage the ache from my heart. “I want to know if I failed.”

“Ye didnae fail. Ye havenae had the chance so ’tis no need to blame yerself.” He scooped up the last bite on his plate and leaned back, allowing his eyes to settle on me. “Fine. Weel talk aboot the chest, but only the chest, for now.”

“Marco stayed.”

“I gathered that from the picture on the notice. Unless he has a twin in 1718.”

“He saw Sasha and stayed to get the eye.” And win her heart.

And crush mine.

He didn’t respond, only finished his scotch.

“Caiyan, I need my computer. I need to find out what happened to Marco. I need—” I couldn’t stop a fat teardrop from streaking my cheek. I had left Marco in the past, and he’d died. He’d been hung by the neck and gibbeted. Whatever the fuck that was.

“Sunshine.” Caiyan reached up and ran a thumb across my cheek. His touch wiped away my grief. “Marco isnae dead, yet.”

I looked up at him. “I know we can go back next moon cycle, but the clipping. He suffered a horrible death. Why didn’t I save him?”

“Aye, he suffered, and ah dinnae ken why this happened. Marco is telling ye it did, and now the WTF can send a defender back to change the timeline. It weel be as if it never happened.”

I blinked away the tears. “I’m going back. I left him in the past, alone.”

“Ye didnae leave him. Marco chose to stay. And yer no going back there.”

I got up and marched into the den and to the bar cart, poured another shot of bourbon, and downed it. The burn that slid from tongue to stomach made my eyes water. It was followed by the imprisoned tears I’d held back earlier.

Caiyan joined me. “Jen.” My name, a whisper off his tongue. He hated it when I cried.

“What if I can’t save him?” The tears made a jailbreak, the damn burst into gut-wrenching, rib-expanding, snot-producing sobs.

“We have time.” Caiyan wrapped his arms around me. His warmth cuddled and calmed me like a soft blanket on a stormy night. After a few hiccups, I was all cried out. He nuzzled my neck. “Feel better?”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Better.”

“I’ll naugh let Marco die.”

“Promise?” I blinked away blurry eyes and focused on his green ones. They were soft now. An emerald green that had made me a weak pile of lust from the moment I first saw him. I willed myself to tuck away the anger, the hurt, and the questions. They could wait until tomorrow if he’d stay with me tonight and dull my memory of Marco standing on a moonlit beach waving good-bye.

“Promise me, if Jake won’t send me back, that you’ll go. That you won’t let Marco die.” I held his gaze, felt his truth run between us.

“I promise. Now, let me take ye upstairs, run ye a hot bath.”

The words sounded like heaven. After three days in 1718, with only one lukewarm water bath, I needed a shampoo, shave, and soak in a tub filled with my Lollia bubble bath. Hopefully, there would be a night filled with Caiyan following the bath.

“Are you staying tonight?”

“Aye, if ye like.”

Oh yeah. I like.