“Mom—!”
It was the only word she got out. The assailant turned his gun on her and fired. She heard a strangled gasp erupt from her mother as Skye took the hit, falling to the floor. She thrust her hands out, landing on shards of glass. Blinding pain exploded through her and she glanced down. Blood spread slowly through her shirt. Her palms were cut and bleeding.
But she didn’t let that stop her as she stared up at him.
“Get away from her.” Skye’s voice was more calm than she felt.
“Kill her,” a second man said. Words that made her blood run cold. “No witnesses.”
He hesitated, his gaze never wavering off Skye’s face.
“No, please,” Emily whispered.
“Mom!”
The man pointed the pistol at Emily then back at Skye, trying to decide who to shoot first.
“You idiot!” the second man growled.
He stepped next to his partner, pointed his handgun at Skye’s head. “Say goodbye, pretty girl.”
Skye held her breath before squeezing her eyes shut. She heard two quick shots explode through the café and waited for the blinding pain to come. It never did. She opened her eyes and looked into Dane’s.
He stood in the middle of the shattered dining room staring at her with cool green eyes. He wore an expensive black suit, a crisp white dress shirt and a yellow silk tie. Skye stood up abruptly as he raised his gun, pointing it at her mother.
“No, Dane! Don’t kill her.”
He paused, confusion rippling across his face. His brows drew together as he looked at Skye and she took a step toward him. He pointed the gun at her.
“Please, Dane,” she said.
His hand dropped to his side and their gazes never wavered from each other as he walked toward her, his shoes crunching on debris. She shivered uncontrollably, her shoulder, hands and elbow throbbing. Dane paused, inches away from her.
“How do you know my name?” His baritone voice was quiet yet thundered through her.
“I—”
He clamped a hand around her throat and squeezed enough to make her suck in a sharp breath.
“Don’t!” Emily said.
Tears blurred her vision and Skye furiously blinked them away. “You’re not the killer you think you are. You’re a good man.”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, his voice almost a growl.
He pointed the gun to her temple, pressing the cold metal into her skin. Fear trickled through her as she stared at him, wondering if this was the end, if it had all been for nothing.
This wasn’t the Dane she remembered or fell in love with. This was the Dane she ran from in another time, the one who was more evil, more driven. This was going to be harder than she thought. Tears spilled down her cheeks, rolling to the edge of her chin.
“Please, Dane.” She whispered softly so only he could hear.
His grip around her neck loosened and something of the old Dane flickered through his eyes. He blinked, his brows drawing together and creasing his forehead. But just as quickly as it flickered through his eyes, it disappeared again. He pressed the gun harder against her skin, his hand squeezing tighter.
“Don’t do this. We’ve been through so much already.” She refused to break his gaze, as if willing him to remember.
“If you’re trying to stop me from killing you, it won’t work.”
She searched her memory for everything she knew about him. “I know your father’s name is Roderick and you work for a division of the CIA, but you’re not really a killer—”
“Shut up!”
“You told me to help save you from yourself.” She rushed the words out. “Don’t you get it? This is your moment to choose the path you want to take.”
“Stop talking.” Sweat beaded his forehead.
“It’s your crossroads. Your actions now will change everything.”
He ran his tongue over his dry lips.
“That’s why you made me carve the S into your right hand and—”
His hand clamped tighter nearly squeezing the breath out of her and a hint of rage flickered through his eyes.
“—I love you.” She rushed the final words out on a breath.
He shoved her roughly away and took a step back still pointing the gun at her but his hand shook.
“And you love me, too.”
He extended his arm, making her look down the barrel. His lips pursed, his finger hovered over the trigger.
She lifted her chin a little higher, accepting her fate of death. She would never let her gaze fall from his, even if he did decide to pull the trigger.
“If you kill me, I’ll die loving you. But you’re the one that has to live with yourself knowing you had the choice.”
His mouth curled in disgust as he suddenly dropped his hand, the gun hanging at his side. He clenched his other fist.
Emily struggled to her feet and his gaze flickered to her then back to Skye. He took a step backward, his feet crunching on broken glass. Sirens split the air outside as emergency personnel approached the little café.
“Dane—” she began.
She watched him turn and bolt, disappearing through the kitchen. She heard the clatter of pots and pans and then a gunshot as he growled his frustration and rage.
Skye had to fight the urge to go after him. He wouldn’t remember her after all. He wouldn’t know her. All the pain from her injuries disappeared, replaced by a gaping hole in her chest. He had intended to kill her but something stopped him. It shook her to the very core.
“Skye, my God, you’re bleeding all over the place.”
“Am I?” she asked, sounding distant. “Funny. I don’t feel anything.”
* * *
It was the first time in his career he hadn’t been able to go through with it. Something about the way she looked at him, the things she said, made him put down the gun. Not only that, but the moment he walked out of the restaurant and slid behind the wheel of his car, his right hand began to throb.
Dane looked at the S-shaped silvery scar, his hands shaking. It hadn’t been there yesterday. Had it? No, he would have remembered a wound like that.
How was this possible?
The way she looked at him, said his name on a whisper. Her eyes pleaded with him, her hair damp against her head and framing her beautiful face. How did she know those things? How in the hell could she feel that way about him? She didn’t know him, for Christ’s sake. Even though he knew everything about her from her favorite haunts to her alcoholic drink of choice. He had stared at her photo for hours, memorized the lines of her face. Knew every fact there was to know about her.
He had never anticipated coming face-to-face with her. Nor had he anticipated her telling him things no one but him knew. Like his father’s name was Roderick. Sure, that was true. But people knew him by his middle name—Noah.
A spy perhaps? Dane rejected that thought right away. There was no way she worked for any government agency. Regardless of whether or not she knew him, he’d have to regroup tonight and go after her again tomorrow. He had a job to do, after all.
Blowing out a breath, he scrubbed a hand over his face then raked it through his hair. He needed to be calm. He reached for a cigarette, pressed it between his lips and was about to light it when his cell phone rang, making him jump. He snatched it up.
“Fortune.” He felt like he teetered on the edge.
“Have you completed the assignment?”
“Not yet. There was a…unexpected obstacle.”
“What sort of obstacle?” his boss demanded.
One with indigo eyes, hair the color of a shiny new penny and lips he could kiss for hours. “I’m taking care of it.”
“It’s too late for that. Conner Dade is in the hospital. So is the girl.”
“What happened to Dade?”
“We’re finding out. He has massive internal injuries. He may not live.”
“And the parents?”
“At the hospi
tal with the girl. I’ve sent in a team.”
“I said I’m taking care of it, Dad.”
“Too late.”
He hung up before Dane could reply. Damn.
* * *
Despite her best efforts to pretend like having her life threatened was no big deal, Skye ached. A deep soul-searing ache. She had been carted off to the hospital for her bullet wound—which turned out not to be that bad at all. The gunman had missed and the bullet only grazed her shoulder but it sure stung like hell when it hit her.
The bastard.
At least he was dead. And her parents were still alive. For now.
But Dane…he was gone. And she wondered if he’d be coming after them. She was certain he’d try again. She leaned back in the hospital bed of the emergency room, watching the doctor pick shards of glass out of her right palm. Her mother had escaped uninjured and she stood at her bedside, looking worried and haggard. As if she’d aged ten years today.
Her father came running into the emergency room then, his hair mussed, his tie still crooked. He looked frazzled, like he’d fall apart any minute. When he saw her mother, he dashed to her, hugged her hard.
“Thank goodness you’re both safe. I was so worried.” He bustled to stand next to Skye’s bed. He tucked her mother firmly to his side, afraid to let her go. “Skye, you’re quite the hero.”
“I’m not a hero, Dad.” The doctor plucked another shard from her hand and she flinched. “Ow! Dammit that hurt!”
“Skye,” her mother scolded.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Yeah, um, don’t call me ma’am,” Skye said testily. But he couldn’t help it. He was an intern, after all, and being respectful.
“First Conner, now you two. Are you trying to send me to an early grave?” her father asked.
Skye winced. He could never know how close to home that statement was for her.
“What happened to Conner?” her mother asked.
“Strangest thing.” He looked thoughtful. “It was like someone with superhuman strength had thrown him against a wall.”
Skye felt the color rise in her cheeks. She had done that with her wind. Naise allowed her to keep it, even after breaking the laws of time for them.
“Will he be all right?”
“Hard to say,” Jake said. “Doctors have him in ICU. They said he had extensive internal damage to all of his organs.”
She bit her lip, wishing the blow had killed him. Not only did she have to continue to look over her shoulder for Conner, but Dane, too. The only problem was she didn’t know where to find Dane. He’d probably be staying at a local hotel, but most likely under an assumed name. She couldn’t very well stake out every hotel, hoping to find him, now could she?
Damn.
“All done,” the young doctor said. “I’ll get your release papers and you’ll be out of here.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m glad my girls are all safe.”
At least for the moment. She’d have to come up with a plan to find Dane. The problem, she knew, was the threat still existed and she had no idea when he’d be coming after them.
After being discharged, she and her parents walked out of the emergency room. Skye scanned the parking lot for Dane to be hovering nearby, but saw no one.
No one, that is, until three men dressed in black headed toward them. A sick feeling crept over her and all the hair on the back of her neck stood at attention. She could see no weapons in their hands, but since they were trained professionals, they wouldn’t have them in plain sight.
“Mom…Dad…”she began, but that was as far as she got.
The one in the middle pulled a gun first and fired. The gun emitted nothing more than a pop, clearly indicating it had a silencer. Her father groaned and went down, crumpling to the pavement. Her mother shrieked and dropped to her knees beside him. Skye faced the gunman, her fists clenched, refusing to move. She had faced death already once that day. She wasn’t going to cower now.
Tires screeching in the parking lot made them all pause. Skye looked up, saw the sports car fly into the parking lot and come to a jarring halt. Dane jumped out, gun in hand.
“Get away from them, Jackson.”
“You’re too late, Fortune. This is our gig now. You had your chance and blew it. You should have killed them when you were supposed to.”
He pointed the gun at Jackson, walking with a purposeful gait toward him. “I’m here to finish the job.”
“It’s too late for that. Don’t get in my way. I don’t want to have to remove you.”
Her heart pounded furiously, watching the two men as they sized each other up. On the ground, her father groaned, reassuring her he still lived. Dane paused close to her. So close, in fact, she could reach out and touch him.
“Why are you doing this?” Emily said. “Leave us alone!”
“Your husband has something we want,” Jackson said.
Dane grabbed Skye, pulled her to him. She inhaled sharply as his arm wrapped around her waist and he pointed the gun to her head.
“This is my job,” Dane said. “Not yours.”
His deep dark voice rumbled against her back as fear bubbled through her. Jackson’s gaze fixed on Dane behind her and looking at him, she could feel the rage even from this distance.
“Then do it and get it over with.”
Skye held her breath and waited for him to pull the trigger, the pain to come. She heard the gun fire near her ear and jumped. But it was Jackson who fell to the ground, a bullet in his head. Two more quick shots and the other two assailants were dead.
Dane shoved her away and stepped back, his face pasty white. She turned to him and couldn’t stop the tears in her eyes. She wanted to run to him, throw her arms around his neck and hug him close.
He had made a choice. He had saved them.
“Why’d you do it?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
Her heart broke all over again as she watched him turn and walk away.
* * *
Dane walked through downtown as the sun set that evening, heading back to his high-rise apartment on First Street. He took a long drag on his cigarette then tossed it down and crushed it with the toe of his shoe before entering through the door and punching the elevator.
He had killed three of his own today and saved the lives of three people he should have killed. He still didn’t know why.
But when he held her against him, his arm around her waist, it felt so familiar and she smelled so good. She molded against him as if she were made for him. Wisps of hair brushed against his face reminding him of…something.
He stuck the key in his lock and turned it, swinging the door open and dropping his keys on the entry table. He flipped on the light and stifled a yawn.
There would be serious repercussions from today’s actions. He’d worry about that tomorrow. He had to find out exactly what they were after. What could be so important that a whole family had to be wiped out?
He stripped down to his boxers and fell into bed, crumpling the pillow under his chin and exhaling a contented sigh. After tossing and turning for what seemed hours, he finally drifted off to sleep.
His dreams came swiftly, vividly. He was drowning, clawing the surface of the water and gulping in water. Her face wavered on the crystal blue water above him. He felt hands on his arms, pulling him toward the surface and he was safe, looking up into the familiar face of Skye. The face that had continued to haunt him.
He reached for her but suddenly she wasn’t there anymore.
“Dane, son of Roderick.”
He heard a distinctive female voice in his ear. And it wasn’t Skye’s.
He sat upright, fumbling for the light on the bedside table. He knocked it off and landed on the floor with a thump. Cursing, he started to reach for it when he paused.
A woman stood at the foot of his bed. Her blood red lips curled into a smile, lighting her angelic face. Silvery hair cascaded over her shoulders and he
r white gown clung to her thin frame. She smelled faintly of jasmine and seemed to float on the air.
“You should have touched the stones when you had the chance.” She smiled.
“Who are you?”
“You know me as Elwyn.”
“I don’t know you.”
She drifted closer and extended her hand to him. “Of course you do.”
He hesitated, staring at her fine-boned hands. She had skin like porcelain. He reached for her, expecting to grasp air. Instead, her icy fingers closed over his.
“You must regain that which you have lost,” she whispered, her breath crystallizing on the air.
The temperature had dropped considerably and he forced away a shiver. “And what is that?”
“Something you hold dear to your heart.”
Dane startled awake in a cold sweat as he sat bolt upright. He glanced to the end of the bed, but found no one there.
The dream was vivid and real. He could still feel her cold fingers on his and rubbed his skin, willing it away.
Elwyn.
He closed his eyes, remembering Elwyn…Naise…Perron.
And Skye.
Skye being married off to Robert the Bruce. Skye being dragged up a frozen mountain by a madman. And coming to his rescue on a pirate ship. Skye weeping when he told her she had to save him from himself.
It all flooded back to him. Everything from the first moment he met her to the last time he kissed her. The scar on this hand throbbed like a son of a bitch. He glanced down, ran his fingertip over it, remembering when he told her to mark him.
He couldn’t get her scent out of his nose. Nor could he forget the way she looked at him in that café. Or the way she felt when he clutched her against him.
Guilt swept over him as he flung off the bedcovers. He knew exactly what he had to do. Something dear to his heart indeed. And he planned to get it back.
Chapter Twenty-one: Mending Hearts
Three weeks later
Finding Dane Fortune had proved an impossible task. The man had disappeared off the face of the planet. But then he was CIA so he would know how to disappear.
Skye thought she had seen him once when she stopped to pick up her dry cleaning. He had been standing on the corner across the street smoking a cigarette. She opened her car door, put her clothes inside and then looked back across the street but he was gone.
A Break in Time Page 21
