“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. “Seventeen-ninety-three.”
“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 be in ashes by the end of the night. Persuading the mother of their rescue attempt was challenging in spite of Ruby’s excellent French, but the woman moved swiftly when Dom lifted her daughter onto his shoulder and began trooping toward the door.
The contingent snuck out the back. The sound of the violent mob approaching made the hairs on Gemma’s neck stand to attention. The sun was dropping lower with each passing moment. Racing through the picturesque gardens, the quintet soon skidded to a halt. The mob had solidified into a ring of fury that was marching around the outskirts of the property, malice on their minds, murder on their lips, and fiery torches in their hands.
Gemma’s heart thudded out an unsteady rhythm.
“We’re trapped.” Ruby’s face was pale.
“Not yet we’re not.” Dom lowered the shivering girl to the ground. He scanned the surroundings, looking for the safest exit.
“Il y a un passage souterrain sous la maison. Il mẻne ả la riviẻre qui se trouve ả environ un mile d’ici.”
Gemma looked to Ruby for translation.
Her sister was simmering; she sounded like a bull ready to charge the way her breaths shot through her nose.
“Ruby, what?”
“There’s an underground passage in the house. It leads down to a river, about a mile east.”
“Why didn’t she tell us that before?!”
“She probably didn’t know our intentions before. Look at the way we’re dressed! She was just chasing after her daughter.” Gemma pulled some calm into the situation. “Let’s focus, you guys. Dom, what do you want to do? Soon the house will be overrun, we don’t have much time.” Gemma was merely stating the obvious; the fact that it brought bile into her throat was another matter entirely.
“Take the girl. She’s the one we came back for anyway.” Dom shoved her toward Gemma.
“Dom, what are you doing? We can’t split up!”
“What choice do we have, Ruby?” He didn’t bother masking his anguish. “Gemma’s the fastest. She can make it with the girl. We can hide out here and sneak Marie out once the mob has breached the gates. If they catch us, well,” Dom shrugged, “two of us can still escape.” He looked ashamed.
Gemma shot the French woman a sympathetic look.
“But…” Ruby’s head was shaking.
“Look, all we need is for Gemma to make it and then we can all go home.”
“But what about...?” Ruby nodded toward the mother.
“Ma fille est tout ce qui importe. S’il vous plaît, sauvez-la.”
Gemma wasn’t sure what the woman said, but she gave her daughter a fierce hug before placing her in Gemma’s arms.
She could feel the girl’s tears soaking through her clothing and tried to ignore the heart wrenching sobs. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered into the girl’s hair. “Just hold on tight.”
Shoving her way through the back entrance, Gemma tried to remember Ruby’s translated instructions as she crept down the passageways. The thud of the front door being smashed open echoed off the high ceiling, making them both jump. The girl let out a piercing scream and Gemma bolted.
The roar of the crowd bursting into the house rose in a crescendo. Gemma tore down the corridor. Ripping back the door, she descended the stairs at lightning speed. The girl’s frightened arms nearly choked her as they whipped through the dank passageway.
She could hear footsteps chasing her and tried to even out her breathing. Bursting into dusk, Gemma stumbled her way toward the river. Tree roots assaulted her, testing her balance. One eventually succeeded. She tumbled to the earth, smashing her head against a rock and fought the blur that threatened her vision.
The girl beneath her whimpered. Gemma swiftly rose, pulling her back into her arms. Glancing back, she saw no figures, but could sense their chase. Ignoring the pounding in her head, she dashed across a shallow section of the river and up into the forest. There was no way she could keep up this pace. The girl was growing heavier with every step and her vision was spotting at the edges. Spinning in a circle, she searched her surroundings and glimpsed a large tree ahead of her. Crawling into the hole, she dragged the girl in behind her and nestled her between her legs. She sucked in much needed air and wrapped the shaking girl in a secure embrace.
“It’ll all be over soon. I promise.”
She kissed the top of the girl’s head and vanished.
*****
St. Augustine, Florida - 2011 AD
Her breathing was erratic as she glanced around the cubicle. The little girl! Had her father aborted early? Her heart sank with the knowledge of failure. She wondered how long that frightened girl had hidden in the hollow of the tree before she was found.
Closing her eyes, Gemma fought her tears and ran a shaky hand through her hair. A sudden burning made her wince. She touched her forehead with tentative fingers and let out a soft groan.
Blood. How am I supposed to explain this one away?
Grabbing her clothes, she hastily threw them on and tied her hair back. Racing to the basin, she used some toilet paper to stanch the flow. She fought the wave of exhaustion that always engulfed her in moments like this and pulled in a deep breath.
Stop shaking, Gemma! You can do this. Everyone will be heading home. All you have to do is get out of the building without anyone spotting you.
A shuffling of feet outside the door made her heart freeze.
Chapter Eight
&nbs
p; St. Augustine, Florida - 2011 AD
Harrison waved goodbye to Darren and the girls with a half-hearted smile. They had tried to persuade him to join them for an afterschool burger, but that was the last thing he felt like. Clicking his locker closed, he leaned his head against it and swore.
The look on Gemma’s face as she walked away swam in his brain, taunting him. He had caused that.
You are such an idiot.
He suddenly didn’t give a damn about the truth. He just wanted to find her, say he was sorry, and spend the afternoon laughing together like they had on Saturday night.
Punching his locker, he hissed at his decision and rubbed his knuckles. At least he could drive home without Rosie harassing him about his mood. He didn’t think he could put on a bright face right now.
Thank God she’d made friends so easily at this school.
He threw his bag over his shoulder and slumped toward his car. Something made him walk slowly. Maybe it was the thought he might bump into Gemma on the way. She hadn’t run out the front doors like he’d been expecting. Without meaning to, he turned the direction she’d gone.
A girl scurried past him with a frown. She glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. Harrison followed her line of sight to the girls’ bathroom. His legs moved before his brain did.
Leaning his head against the door, he heard a hiss of pain.
“Gemma, are you in there?”
Total silence.
“Are you okay?”
After a lengthy pause he heard a sigh. “I’m fine. I just… I slipped.”
Swinging the door open, he stepped into the room, not caring who else might be in there. His frown deepened as he stood beside her and glimpsed the blood.
“What happened?” He grabbed the wad of tissue from her hand and held it in place.
“The floor was wet and I just… I can be clumsy sometimes.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re one of the most coordinated people I know.” He pulled the tissue away to examine the wound. The gash was deep. Purple bruising was painting its way around the serrated edging. It looked painful.
“You need to see the nurse.”
“No!” Gemma’s eyes flew up to the mirror and met his gaze with a look of horror. “Please, please don’t take me to the nurse. I’ll have to explain… It’s humiliating.”
He gave her a dry look as he continued to dab the blood matting her hair. The wound began to seep again. Grabbing a fresh wad of toilet paper, he stanched the flow. “You can’t ride home with blood running down your face.”
“I know.”
Letting out a sigh, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. “Come on.”
“Harrison!” She pulled against him, nearly yanking him off his feet.
He balanced himself and turned to her with a glare. “Would you trust me, please?”
Pulling her hand with a little more force, he led her out to the parking lot and opened his car door.
“Where are we going?”
“To buy you a first aid kit and some ice.”
Her face softened with a smile as she slid into the car. He raced around to his door, grateful that she had capitulated without argument. Gunning the engine, he reversed quickly out of school, listening to the ring of Gemma’s cell phone as he went.
“Hello?” Gemma bit the inside of her cheek as she listened. “Hey Mom… I’m fine… I’m sorry, I forgot. I...well, I slipped and cut my head.”
Harrison drove toward, town scanning the streets for the nearest drug store. Gemma pointed up the road as she spoke and he followed her signed directions.
“No. No one saw.”
She glanced over at him with worried eyes.
“I’m alone.”
Harrison kept his expression bland as he indicated and began to parallel park.
“I’m fine. Really… I think it would be better if I did my homework in the library then came home. By then my head should be clear… I don’t want to leave my bike at school… Dom is not riding my bike for me. I’m fine!”
Gemma rolled her eyes as Harrison cut the engine.
“Mom, please. I promise I’ll call if I’m still feeling fuzzy… Five o’clock? Yeah, I’ll be there.” She tapped the screen and dropped the phone into her lap.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just…my mom can be a little over protective. I was supposed to text her after school to let her know my plans… I forgot.”
“I think you had fair reason.”
She returned his grin.
“Back in a sec.” Jumping out of the car, he headed into the drug store and grabbed some supplies.
*****
The waves rustled against the sand as they ran up the beach then fled back to the water. Gemma sat quietly, her fingers holding the ice pack firmly against her forehead. Harrison had sterilized the wound and used butterfly bandages to draw the skin together. He had never really done first aid before. His hands had been shaking, not wanting to hurt her. Thankfully, she was pretty tough and he only heard a small intake of breath when he was cleaning the wound. The rest of the time she sat as still as a statue, patiently waiting for him to finish.
“Feeling better?”
She looked at him with a tired smile. “Yeah, thanks for helping me out.”
Harrison’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded. “Just a bad day, that’s all.”
Harrison gripped the steering wheel. “Sorry if I made it worse.”
“You could never make my day worse,” Gemma whispered.
Her blush sent fireworks down Harrison’s spine.
“Here.” He leaned toward his stereo. “I’ve got the perfect remedy.”
He watched Gemma’s lips twitch as he fiddled with his phone. Soon soft piano music was filling the car. Leaning back against the headrest, he let a satisfied sigh escape his lips.
“What is this?” Gemma said.
“My mother’s cure for the blues.”
“It’s beautiful. Who is it?”
“A composer from the early 19th Century. She was…”
“A woman?”
“Yeah.” Harrison smiled. “I know, but it wasn’t like she was famous back then. Her compositions were discovered about fifty years ago in an old manor house near Cambridge, England. But that’s not the best part. She has the most amazing story.”
“Why? What happened to her?” Gemma swiveled to face him.
“Well, according to her diary entries, she was rescued by an angel during the French Revolution.”
“An angel?”
His eyebrows puckered as he watched the blood drain from Gemma’s face.
“That’s what she claims. See, she was a little girl in France in the late seventeen hundreds. Not only was her family wealthy, but they had also been harboring some clergymen. They helped the men escape, but left it too late for themselves. Her father had already been executed and it was only a matter of time before she and her mother got the chop. Apparently the mob had been coming when she said an angel appeared and carried her to safety, hiding her in the hollow of a tree trunk.”
“What happened to her after that?” Gemma whispered.
“Well, her mother found her that night and they managed to escape to England. She vowed to spend the rest of her life honoring God for sending her this guardian angel. She did it through her music.”
Gemma leaned back against her seat, a soft smile creasing her lips. “What was her name?”
“Emilie Clayton. She married Lord Robert Clayton. Like everyone else I know, he fell in love with her music.”
Gemma’s eyes held a warm glow as she looked at him. All the sadness and tension from moments before had vanished.
“What?”
“That’s a really nice story, Harrison. Really nice.”
She closed her eyes. His gaze traveled over the plains of her skin and he saw the mark on her collarbone appear. The phenomenon made
his insides quake, but he knew he couldn’t ask her about it. He watched the star-shaped mark burn a passionate red before fading again as her body relaxed.
In an attempt to dispel his disquiet, he reached for the icepack she was holding. He needed something else to focus on.
“Here, let me have a look at that.”
He took the pack from her before she could object, and the uneasy fire stirring in his gut accelerated as if someone had doused his insides with gasoline.
“What?”
Whipping off the bandages, he ran his finger over the hairline scar that now lay where her gash had been. Her skin was no longer purple and the only evidence of her recent wound was a little dried blood in her hair.
“How did…? Where did it go?”
Gemma’s shoulders stiffened. She brushed his hand away and covered her scar. “I’m a fast healer.”
“Fast? Gemma, I’m a fast healer, okay? You’re just… All you’re giving me is fast? You have a scar now! The kind of scar that takes days, sometimes weeks, to appear! What happened to the bruising?”
She closed her eyes and turned her head away. “What do you want me to say, Harrison?”
“The truth would be nice.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
His heart thudded in his chest as he watched her struggle, but he couldn’t let this go.
“Gemma…” He licked his lips.
“Please don’t, Harrison. I’m not allowed to say anything.”
“Why? Are you an alien or something?”
“This isn’t Roswell.” She huffed and looked out the window. “Just accept that there’s things you’ll never know about me.”
“I’ve been trying, but I want to know everything about you…and I want you to know everything about me! I feel like we could have something awesome if you were just willing to bend a few rules.”
Her eyes were fiery when she turned back to face him. “I am breaking the rules for you! Do you have any idea what my parents would do if they found out I was sitting in your car right now? What more do you want from me?”
“I want you to trust me with the truth!”
“You don’t know what you’re asking! I can’t, okay?”
Harrison’s anger spurted to life as he started the engine and reversed. “You know you’re not the only one putting yourself on the line here. Do you have any idea how much flak I’m getting just for talking to you?” The fact he didn’t really care was hardly relevant. He accelerated onto the road. “The least you could give me are a couple of reasons why you’re such a secretive freak.”
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