by W. J. May
The gang paused at the same time. Thinking through it in unison.
“...for the shopkeeper?” Devon finally asked, looking more impressed than he was prepared to admit. “That whole thing was for the guy you asked to be your judge?”
“...and in doing so, lured him away from his food stand,” Angel finished. “That’s right.” It wasn’t until a moment later that she turned to Julian. “Why are you all wet?”
“Actually,” Molly’s face glowed with sudden mischief, “it’s a funny—”
“It’s nothing,” Julian interrupted quickly, pulling his wife in for a tight embrace. “Do me a favor,” he murmured into her hair, “next time you decide to volunteer for a public lynching, give me some kind of a head’s up, okay? Or maybe just... don’t do it.”
Unseen by anyone else, she grinned. Pressing her face into the collar of his shirt. “Promise.”
Meanwhile, the others forgot the spectacle entirely as they dug into their impromptu meal, more famished than any of them had realized at the time. It was no fish and chips—none of the chemically-processed magnificence to which they were accustomed. But it was warm, and natural, and fresh, and tasted like the beautiful scenery around them.
After just a few minutes all talking had stopped, and they were sitting quietly on the banks of the river. Chewing thoughtfully. Leaning against each other. Gazing up at the rising sun.
This is nice, Rae couldn’t help but think. This is what we’ve been missing.
Life back in their own version of London had been... busy.
Messy. Delightful. Full of more chaos, and love, and adventure than any of them could have ever dreamed. But busy, too. So busy that it was a rare moment when they were all able to simply sit with each other and watch the river go by. The sun on their faces. The breeze in their hair.
Sometimes it was easy to forget, amidst all the fighting and danger and saving the world time after time, that they were still young. Children just learning to raise children themselves. Children who had been robbed of a bit of that adolescence. Who had lost it amidst the fray.
“What happened to your face?” Rae asked quietly.
She was nestled in Devon’s arms, feeling his heart beat between her shoulders blades, but it was Gabriel to whom she asked the question. He was sitting a bit away from the rest, staring out at the river. A little trickle of blood had slipped down his chin, leaving a red streak in its wake.
He lifted his hand in surprise, like he’d forgotten it was there, before his lips turned up with a smile. “When it came time to make our great escape, it turned out the townsfolk were admirably forgiving—buried underneath it all.”
Rae’s eyebrows arched, waiting for the rest. “So... the blood?”
“Angel turned out to be less forgiving of me.”
Rae laughed, leaning back into Devon’s chest as his arms tightened in a circle around her waist. On the other side of their picnic Julian was stretched out in the sun, trying to dry off, with his head resting in Angel’s lap. She was staring at the river like her brother, one hand absentmindedly playing with his dark hair. Luke and Molly were curled around each other, staring at something in her hand, their faces aglow with a strange blue light.
For a split second Rae thought she’d gotten her powers back. Then she realized they were staring at her phone, looking at pictures of Benjamin.
Her heart tightened and she sat up, feeling a sudden chill.
Time may have paused in their century, but things here had kept right on moving. Making the distance seem all the farther. Making their hearts ache for the people left on the other side.
“I’ve got to get us back,” she murmured. “I’ve got to figure out how to make this happen.”
“What was that?” Devon asked, not hearing her for one of the very first times.
For whatever reason—that’s what pushed her over the edge. The fact that he couldn’t hear her. Because he didn’t have his powers. Because they were trapped in another time.
A rush of sudden tears ran down her cheeks and she bowed her head, bare arms trembling as they wrapped around her knees. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Devon sat up at once, his face awash with sympathy and love.
“Hey, none of that.” She sobbed quietly and he pulled her into his arms, speaking softly as he pressed gentle kisses in her hair. “It was an accident, love. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“But I did it—”
“And you’re going to get us back,” he replied easily. “I know you are.”
She shook her head. If only she had that kind of confidence. Then her eyes flashed again to Molly’s phone and a wave of panic gripped her once more.
“But the kids,” she began before choking off. “What if they’re—”
“It’s only been a day.” Devon stroked back her hair reassuringly, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “Aria and the others are perfectly safe. With any luck, we’re going to get back right where we left off and none of them will have missed a thing.”
“And if we don’t?” she asked, staring up into his eyes. “If things there have kept moving and we can’t get back—”
“We will get back,” he interrupted, squeezing her knee firmly. “And on the off chance that things have kept moving, the daycare will call your parents, and my parents, and Luke’s dad.” His arms tightened as he rocked her back and forth. “Can you imagine a group of people more prone to overreaction? They’ll mobilize both agencies, send in the cavalry, call up the royal guard. We’ll be back in our own time by tomorrow morning.”
It was impossible not to be moved by that voice. Impossible not to be reassured by those clear, bright eyes. After a moment of staring, she was able to catch her breath. The crying stopped.
“And in the meantime?”
“In the meantime?” His eyes twinkled with a smile as he cocked his head towards where Gabriel was silently listening just a few feet away. “Oliver Twist over here has got it covered.”
Rae followed his gaze, and Gabriel gave her a little salute.
“A regular Dickensian tragedy, at your service.”
She laughed in spite of herself, then looked up to see that the others had silently gathered around. They were staring with the same reassuring smile, mirrored in four different pairs of eyes.
“Don’t be daft, Kerrigan.” Molly flipped back her hair with a little wink. “We’ve been in worse jams than this. Just think of that time in Quebec. At least we haven’t run into any bears.”
Luke’s head snapped up in alarm—apparently she’d neglected to tell him a few things. Julian leaned forward with a gentle smile. His face was steady and his eyes were sure, a quiet safeguard against the dangers of the world. She found herself stilling with automatic reassurance, lulled into a steady calm as he stared deep into her eyes.
“I want you to know... I still haven’t forgiven you for the river.”
The peaceful spell broke apart with sudden laughter as she bowed her head, spilling dark hair into her eyes. He leaned back with a wink as Molly took over once again, all business this time.
“So, what’s it going to be?” she asked briskly. “Can we be expecting the two of you psychos to steal us every meal? Breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”
Gabriel laughed lightly, ripping open the flagon of wine. “I’m afraid not. Those are just parlor tricks. If we’re going to be staying here, we’re going to need some real money.”
“Real money?” Rae looked up tentatively. “We’ve got no clothes, no shelter, no way to travel, and no plan. How exactly do you suggest we get ‘real’ money?”
Gabriel accepted the challenge with his signature arrogance, eyes sparkling a hundred shades of green. “Ah, but you forget. We’ve got something that no one else does.”
Rae took the bait. Already starting to smile. “And what’s that?”
The pair of siblings shot each other a grin before turning to the man sitting between them.
“We
’ve got the future on our side...”
“THE RACE TRACK?” JULIAN stared blankly at the crowd of people around him, all flooding excitedly into the outdoor arena. “Betting on horse races? That’s the big plan?”
“Not exactly.” Gabriel draped an arm over his shoulder with the corrupting smile of an older brother. “Betting implies a bit of a gamble. We want you to bet on the races.”
It took a second, then it suddenly clicked.
“Oh no, no, no. I can’t do that.”
The psychic actually tried to take a step away but Gabriel held him firm, angling him towards the entrance. “Don’t be shy. We all know you can.”
Julian rolled his eyes, shaking himself free. “I won’t. This is the future we’re talking about messing with. Clairvoyance 101. What part of limiting interactions did you not understand?”
Much to their surprise, it was Molly who jumped in with a passion.
“What part of sleeping in a stable did you possibly forget?” she asked heatedly. “Get in there, Julian. Make us a little money.”
He glanced between them in disbelief, then turned to his wife. When he found no help there, he turned to his best friend instead. “Dev, back me up on this.”
Devon shifted uneasily, torn between the possibility of altering something in the distant future and the immediate prospect of having to explain to his wife why she was sleeping in a pen. “It’s not a great idea,” he offered half-heartedly. When Julian shot him a look, he continued with a bit more fortitude. “If we leave here with tons of money, there’s no telling what things that might change. Let alone what other things might shift if we end up taking a room at a tavern. What if that means that someone else has no place to stay, and then something—”
“—and then something terrible happens and world as we know it comes to an end,” Molly concluded impatiently, looking as though she couldn’t care less. “Look, Jules, it’s no big deal. You use your gift to help me find parking and avoid traffic tickets all the time. This is the same thing.”
“It’s not the same thing,” he insisted, deliberately avoiding his wife’s gaze. “That’s just messing around in the present, when decisions are supposed to happen. This is purposely changing things that happened in the past, when things are already supposed to have been set in stone. And I’ve told you to stop asking me about the traffic thing,” he added under his breath.
“We’ll put it to a vote,” she said practically, straightening out her crinkled dress. “All those in favor, raise your hand.” Three hands shot into the air, leaving four unaccounted for. A slight majority. Her eyes narrowed though her voice grew honey-sweet. “I should add that, if this vote doesn’t go my way, there’s a distinct possibility I won’t be having any sex in the future.”
There was an awkward pause. Then Luke slowly raised his hand.
“Seriously?!” Julian exclaimed.
“I’m sorry,” Luke said guiltily, refusing to meet his eyes. “It’s not a hollow threat.”
“Tough luck, Jules.” Molly gave him a smug grin as his adopted family smirked wickedly in the background. “Looks like you’re off to the races.”
“THIS IS A BAD IDEA,” Julian muttered, sliding lower in his seat. “Such a bad idea.”
He, Devon, and Rae were sitting in the front row of the outdoor arena, staring out over the emerald field. A blanket of mist was hovering over the grass but the summer sun was already burning it away, adding a layer of heat to the noise and excitement already saturating the air.
“Hey, it might not be so bad.” Although he was careful not to let his friend see it, there was a hint of excitement in Devon’s eyes. He was just as thrilled to get a glimpse into the past as Luke, and hadn’t been to the races since he was a child. “I mean, maybe we’re being a bit overcautious.”
Overcautious? Coming from Devon?
Rae bit her lip and stared deliberately into her lap, Julian shifting nervously in his chair.
“Then why do I feel like Carter is going to materialize at any moment and kick my arse?”
A smile flashed across Devon’s face as he stared out at the bright summer sun. “I always feel like that. It’s part of his father-in-law charm.”
Julian laughed shortly then rifled around in his jacket, pulling out a pair of Ray Bans and slipping them into his dark hair. “All right, here goes nothing...”
“Take off your sunglasses!” Rae demanded.
Julian froze with his hand still half-raised. “But my eyes—”
“Those haven’t been invented yet!” She snatched them off his face. “You can’t just go around flaunting things that are clearly from the future.”
He glanced pointedly at her dress and his tuxedo before slumping down in his seat. “Oh, like you care,” he mumbled. “I know you were hoping for a bed tonight just like the rest of them.”
It was one-hundred-percent true, but he couldn’t prove it. She’d counted on Molly to rally support and voted responsibly just to stay in his good graces.
“Head’s up.”
Devon leaned forward as the horses were led out onto the field. There were about twenty altogether. Shaking their bridles and stamping their long legs impatiently as they waited for the riders to mount. The crowd went wild, and up at the ticket booth Rae heard a sudden flurry of voices.
The friends watched for a moment before turning to Julian.
“Well?” Rae asked expectantly. “Who’s going to win?”
He glanced up for only a moment, slouching back down and folding his arms across his chest with an oppressed sigh. “The brown one.”
Rae and Devon exchanged a quick look. There were about fifteen chestnut stallions on the field. She gave him a pointed nudge and he stepped up to bat with a carefully concealed smile.
“Which brown one, mate?”
Julian shrugged a petulant shoulder, looking irritated and bored all at the same time. “I’m supposed to know their names?”
Devon pursed his lips. “Why don’t you just point it out to me?”
The psychic half-heartedly lifted a finger, muttering something about betraying the very fundamentals of his beliefs, and Rae pushed gracefully up from her chair.
Their game plan was simple.
Julian would look at the horses and determine the winner. Devon would sit beside him for moral support and to ensure that he didn’t flee the facility. Rae would then run the information back to the ticket booth, where either Angel, Gabriel, Molly, or Luke was waiting to place a bet.
They rotated as much as possible to avoid suspicion, but there was still only so long the little game could play out before someone caught on. Since it was an off-season track and the amounts being gambled were typically small, they were trying to stretch that time out as long as possible.
“Excuse me, excuse me.”
Rae tried to be as polite as possible as she pushed her way through the churning crowd, well aware that not only was her dress making her stand out but the racetrack—like the tavern—seemed to be exclusively reserved for men.
What do the women here do all day? Sew and clean and make babies?
“Hey, gorgeous! You looking for a good time?”
Oh yeah, they also do that.
Wishing very much that she was still equipped with her mother’s flames Rae ignored the group of leering men as she climbed to the top of the wooden stairs, wondering absentmindedly how many times she was going to be mistaken for a prostitute as she searched for her friends.
She found them standing close, but not too close, to the man taking all the bets. Lingering idly while carefully watching for her at the same time.
The second she got close enough, Gabriel detached himself from the others and made his way over. She stood on her toes to mutter something into his ear. He then sauntered back to Angel, who promptly cut to the front of the line to place her bet.
“You know what,” she gushed excitedly to the man with the parchment, “I think I’m going to go with that new one—the Spanish mare? Tw
o schillings on Lover’s Folly to win.”
Two schillings was one of the biggest bets the track was going to see that day, and the man raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking Angel up and down.
“You sure you know what you’re doing, lassie?” he asked with an Irish brogue. “Lover’s Folly hasn’t come in higher than fifth since she went out last season.”
For a split second, Angel paused. Clearly wondering if Lover’s Folly was actually some passive- aggressive attack from her sulking husband.
“Maybe you should try asking whoever brought you here today,” the man continued, in what he clearly deemed a charitable warning. “Your brother? Husband?”
Her eyes flashed with carefully contained rage as she pressed her money deliberately into his palm. “Lover’s Folly,” she said again, emphasizing every word. “To win.”
With a noise of disbelief, the man pocketed the coins and scribbled something down, waving his hand for the next person in line. Angel stepped back to join the others, and together they peered down with a bit of apprehension at the grassy track.
There was a gunshot. Then the horses leapt onto the field.
“All right,” Gabriel breathed, staring intently past the screaming crowd, “let’s see if that psychic of yours is as good as everyone says...”
LOVER’S FOLLY SWEPT the first four races. Then came Summer’s Paradise. Then Lady Rain.
Rae ran up and down the wooden steps, swept away with the thrill of it all, as the others hovered excitedly at the top waiting to place the bet. Their coin purse was getting full. They were having the time of their lives slipping into different voices and characters as they accosted the poor man taking all the bets, faces aglow from their impossible run of ‘luck.’
Down at the track, even Devon and Julian were starting to enjoy themselves. After doubling their money with an especially unlikely pick, Gabriel had magnanimously sent down a bottle of mead which the two of them were passing back and forth with increasing delight. Reveling in the wonders of seventeenth-century alcohol, wondering where they could get something like it in their own time.
