by Cate Dean
He held up his left wrist. The readout told him he was at the right date, but the wrong location. Somehow, he ended up in Dover. On top of that, he had lost the visual of his surroundings. He tapped the blank screen. Nothing—no map, no landmarks—which left him essentially blind.
“Bloody hell…” His voice faded as he spotted the blinking light in the lower corner.
His transport was offline.
“No—” He tapped in the coordinates that would take him home. The screen blinked—then blacked out completely. “Don’t panic.”
He hit the black default button, their failsafe when everything else went wrong. Sparks leapt out and snapped at him.
“Shit.”
Still cursing in every language he knew, he pushed to his feet and unbuckled the leather band. There was a reset on the back. It would—hopefully—reboot his screen. He refused to consider the possibility that he was cut off from home. The problem had to be his personal transport. It was a rough trip, the worst he’d experienced in quite some time. His transport simply received the brunt of it.
He leaned against the building, and promptly fumbled the transport. His heart pounded at the close call. He turned it over, cupped it in his palm, and used his pinky to push the reset button.
There should have been a hum, and the tinkling music that signaled a reboot. The silence was like a death knell.
They had a backup for this contingency—didn’t they have a backup? He pushed through the panic threatening to choke him, fought for calm. Yes, they did; an agent came through with a working transport, to the coordinates locked into the console at home.
The coordinates for London, 14 May, 1940.
He was in Dover.
Kane leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
He was utterly screwed.
~ ~ ~
Mac tapped double time on his screen, muttering under his breath. Elizabeth watched him, arms wrapped around her waist, and fought the panic that threatened to break through. She would not let it take over—not this time.
She reached up for her gold locket, and took slow, deep breaths. The panic faded, faster than normal, and her breath evened out.
Mac stopped his furious tapping, stared at the screen for endless seconds—and with a vicious curse, slammed his fist into it.
“Mac—”
“I lost him.” He stared at Elizabeth, oblivious to the blood dripping off the torn skin over his knuckles, his face shock pale. “He’s gone.”
“Dead?” Her question had everyone in the lab freezing mid task. Panic didn’t have any room to move in this time—she was too scared for Kane. “Mac—is he dead?”
“He might as well be.” Relief nearly buckled her knees. She grabbed the edge of the console at his next words. “Protocol is to send an agent in with a new transport. Problem is, he’s not where he’s supposed to be. I checked every damn square inch of London for his signal. He’s not there.”
The lab buzzed with various reactions. Elizabeth ignored them, forced herself to focus. “What if he detoured? Like an unintentional side trip?”
Color started to seep back into Mac’s face. “An unintentional…” He swung back to his screen, and cursed at the broken glass. “Follow me.”
He ran to the main console and spoke to the tech in front of the central screen. After constantly shaking his head, Mac said something that had the tech’s eyes widen. He backed off and Mac jumped in, tapping on the screen. Elizabeth inched forward, as inconspicuous as possible. She finally got close enough to hear Mac, muttering as he kept moving his hands over the screen.
“Unintentional side trip—genius.” Elizabeth bit her lip on a smile, just before Mac swung his head around, caught sight of her. “Come here. Make way—get out of her way!” The space on either side of him cleared. “Your brilliant observation made me think of this equally brilliant strategy. Look up at the big screen.”
She did. A map replaced the grid, and as she watched, sections of the map start blinking, each one a different color. What he had done jumped out at her. “You’re breaking it up.”
“Got it in one. Genius.” He flashed her a smile, kept tapping. “Watch the North East, top right on the map.” It stopped blinking, then went dark. “By plugging Kane’s DNA signature in, we can go through each part of the country until we pinpoint him. That is,” he glanced at her, the smile gone. “If he landed there on the correct day.”
“And if he didn’t?”
“I’m gonna cross that bridge if we get to it, sweetheart, not before.”
“Okay.” She told herself to breathe, slow, deep. It helped to focus on the screen, instead of the fear screaming at her. A small, red dot snagged her attention, at the bottom of the map. “Mac—what is that?”
He looked up—and stared at the map. “I’ll be damned.” His fingers tapped and slid over the screen. “I’ll be double damned. You found him.” Before she could escape he picked her up and swung her around. “You found him!”
He kissed her, hard and fast, and set her on her feet. “Will! I need another transport. And line up an agent to go in—”
“I have suspended all portal travel.” Dr. Kinimoto appeared on the other side of the console. Glendon Harper stood just behind her, and he looked smug. Elizabeth wanted to punch that smug right off his face.
Mac looked like he wanted to do worse. “You can’t—”
“I refuse to put another agent’s life in danger. Not until we know Kane is alive.”
He clenched his fist. Fresh blood stained his hand. “That rat bastard is pulling the strings, isn’t he? And now you’re going to leave Kane out there.”
Dr. Kinimoto stiffened, an angry blush on her cheeks. “Despite what you think of me, I am in charge, and this is my decision. I am sorry, Mr. Macaffrey. But yes, I am.”
She turned away.
“Son of a bitch—” Mac vaulted the console, grabbed Dr. Kinimoto and spun her around. “You’re not going to leave him hanging, do you hear me? He’s stranded because of your incompetence—”
“Take your hands off me.”
“Send someone in after him—”
“This is your last warning. Let go of—”
“Send in another agent, damn it!”
“I will not jeopardize—”
“I’ll go.” Elizabeth covered her mouth, shocked that she spoke the words out loud. She must have—everyone was staring at her.
“Elizabeth?” Mac approached her, his hands out. She let him take hers, felt them shake in his grip. “Sweetheart, you can’t go back there. You’re not even part of the project—”
“I know what it means to be left behind.” She gripped his hands. “I won’t do that to him.”
“She is completely unsuitable,” Dr. Kinimoto said. Harper stood behind her, watched the scene with those cold, unreadable eyes. Mac pulled Elizabeth in, draped one arm across her shoulders. It felt like comfort and support from a big brother, and Elizabeth found more than comfort in his gesture. She found strength. “A civilian, who would know nothing—”
“You’re wrong.” Elizabeth lifted her chin, used the maybe two extra inches of height to her advantage. “I know at least as much about the history of Britain as any of your other agents.”
“She ain’t lying.” Mac planted a noisy kiss on her cheek before he jogged around the console, tapping on the screen. “You accused her of being a murderess. Meet the real Elizabeth Barritt.”
A second, smaller screen popped up on the wall, with a large version of the bio Mac found earlier. Nerves had Elizabeth hugging her waist. The unflattering photo stared down at her, a future self that was obviously unhappy, and probably alone. Her long list of published books just confirmed it.
Harper turned away from the screen and studied her, his eyes appraising. She felt dirty, violated by just his scrutiny. She knew his type, and planned to stay far, far away as long as she was here.
“So, we have a future expert in our midst.” Dr. Kinimoto st
epped between them, the tablet that she always seemed to carry tucked in the crook of her arm. “How does that help us now? And why should it sway me?”
“You get your best agent back,” Mac said. “If anyone can find him, I’d lay bets on our Elizabeth. They have a connection, one that might just be useful. The portal likes connections. Yeah,” he hovered over the console, sliding knobs and twisting dials. “Bring that pretty little hand over here, sweetheart.”
“What are you—” Dr. Kinimoto cut herself off when Mac raised one hand and reached for Elizabeth with the other.
“I just need a scan of your handprint, and the portal will recognize you.”
Elizabeth flinched as he slapped her hand on an ice cold screen. Light flashed under it, similar to a copy machine scan, just before Dr. Kinimoto yanked her out of Mac’s grip.
“Too late,” he said. “She’s in the system.”
“What does that mean?” Elizabeth didn’t want to know. Once again, words just popped out of her traitorous mouth.
“Once the portal has your handprint, you can travel through on your own.”
“Wait.” Kane’s voice flared in her mind. Something about not being attached to the portal, allowing her to go back to the same place… “Stop it—don’t let it process—”
She pushed past Mac, in reaction mode as she tried to undo what she was afraid had already been done.
“Elizabeth.” Mac eased her away from the console, turned her around. “This won’t hurt you—”
“I can’t go home now!”
He looked startled. “What are you talking about? Of course you can. Kane can send you straight from wherever he ended up.”
“But—he told me—”
“Ah—agents can’t go back to the same place more than once. They can’t, because their DNA is tracked by the portal. It’s been physically added, by way of a blood sample. Because I only scanned your handprint, I gave you a simple identity with it—like a temporary pass. The portal’s going to know that. You’re not trapped, sweetheart, not by a long shot.” He tucked hair behind her ear. “If you still want to help Kane, you’ll just be taking a little detour.”
She looked past him, at the black granite circle. For the first time, she noticed the granite didn’t have the sheen of stone. Instead, the black seemed to absorb the light, instead of light bouncing off the surface.
“This isn’t just advanced human technology, is it?”
Mac smiled. “We be walking in alien territory.” Dr. Kinimoto cleared her throat. “Right. Let’s get you geared up, sweetheart.”
“You will stick to protocol, Mr. Macaffrey.”
“I love when you go all formal on me, Doc.” He winked as he led Elizabeth past her, and she swore the woman blushed. She spun around before Elizabeth could be sure.
They headed to a double door on the far side of the lab, one of the doors labeled Costume Room. Mac opened it and waved her in. “Welcome to Wonderland, my dear Alice.”
Elizabeth stepped into an enormous room that burst with color. Her mind went on overload as she tried to take in the sheer variety of the clothing. A gorgeous silk ball gown fit for a Georgian era summer night flirted with a heavy brown velvet coat that would have been comfortable in a Victorian parlor. Shoulder pad to strap, clothing was stuffed into open front closets, with no rhyme or reason to their placement.
Her fingers itched to touch, her mind already organizing the space for maximum efficiency. Only someone with no vision could have created such mindless chaos.
“Overwhelming, isn’t it?” Mac’s voice jerked her out of her thoughts.
“It could be beautiful, if someone took the time to—”
“Oh, no you don’t.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her down one of the aisles, between the long benches that stood in front of each closet. “Here. Pick something from this rack. It will fit the time period, more or less. I’d recommend an outfit you can run in.” She stared up at him. What she volunteered for was starting to sink in. “You’ll be just fine, Elizabeth. All you have to do is find Kane. He knows the procedure when his transport goes offline, and he’ll stay put. Then he’ll send you on home.”
“Okay.” Her throat wouldn’t let any more than that single word through.
“Five minutes, and we’ll be ready for you.”
She watched him jog back to the doors and close them, leaving her alone. Before she could start to think again, she reached in and dug through the rack. The sizes were easy to find numbers on the top of each hanger, so she narrowed it down to everything with a six on it and yanked them free.
The dresses and skirts went back first, which left a couple of pairs of trousers, a pile of blouses and shirts, and a handful of jackets. Elizabeth chose a long sleeved, blue cotton shirt, loose enough to hide the fact that she wore nothing under her shirt, that she needed nothing more than a thin camisole. Besides, the blue matched one of the colors in the only pair of tweed trousers that were lined. She was not going to wear unlined wool; she already learned her lesson, the itchy, hard way.
Her worn but comfortable boots would have to do; she wasn’t about to try and find a pair of shoes that didn’t give her flaming blisters, in the little time she had. Not when it took her hours of shopping to find one pair she could live with.
She undressed quickly and slipped into the new clothes, leaving the shirt untucked. The longer brown jacket would keep her looking neat long enough to hand the transport over to Kane, and go home.
That thought froze her. She was about to go back in time, to help a man she barely knew. A man who didn’t scare her. Oh, no, he had exactly the opposite effect. She kissed him like he was the last man on earth, in front of witnesses. Worse, she missed him—missed his smile, the glint in his eyes when she made a smart remark, like he considered her funny. Smart. A whole woman, deserving of his care.
If this crazy scheme worked, she would end up leaving him behind. Forever.
Her legs threatened to give out. She dropped to the bench and hugged her waist, afraid she was going to be sick. How could she be so stupid? Why did she let herself fall for a man who didn’t even exist in her own time?
“Easy,” she whispered. “It was too easy.”
From the second he started counting out her panic steps with her, she left herself open to his charm.
“No.” She scrubbed at her face, refused to let the tears lodged in her throat have any release. “I’ll take his transport to him and go home.” She dug a ponytail holder out of her jeans and slipped it on her wrist. With the ease of long practice, she started to braid her hair, muttering under her breath. “Maybe I’ll stay in London, take the offer from the gallery I’d been too chicken to accept. I can change my life, be the person he thinks I am…”
“And who does he think you are, Elizabeth?”
Her fingers froze on the braid. That silky voice lodged her breath in her throat. Harper appeared at the end of the bench, and kept moving until he stood in front of her.
“I need—” She cleared her throat. She refused to be cowed by this man. “I have to finish getting ready. Mac will be here—”
“When I am ready to let him in.” Long fingers slid under her chin, applied pressure until she met his eyes. “You intrigue me. So fragile, but so strong. I want you to come work for me.”
Her eyes widened. He didn’t waste any time.
“And where exactly would that work be?”
“With me.” He trapped her chin when she tried to pull away. “You will be a challenge to break.”
Elizabeth watched him lean in, her heart pounding so hard she felt it in her throat. His breath heated her cheek, then her lips as it became quick and shallow.
She tried to jerk away; his grip turned bruising, right before he crushed his lips to hers.
The shock of his invasion froze her. Then he tried to force his tongue into her mouth. She stomped on his foot.
With a howl he let her go and stumbled backward. His soft leather shoe didn’t stand a chanc
e against her boot heel. She jumped to her feet and put the bench between them, the need to scrub out her mouth overwhelming.
The door burst open behind her.
“Elizabeth!”
“I’m okay, Mac.”
He skidded to a halt next to her. “The rat bastard didn’t—”
“We came to an agreement.” She forced herself to meet the cold blue eyes. Rage burned in the pale depths, like fire under ice. If she weren’t leaving, she would find another way to escape him. “Please get me out of here.”
“With pleasure.” He kept himself between her and Harper, backing out until they were through the doorway and in the lab. Once they were out of Harper’s sight, Mac caught her hands. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She let out a shaky laugh. “He offered me a job.” Mac cursed. “I assumed it wasn’t a conventional job.” Or even a job.
“He’s a spook.”
“A—not CIA, he’s British. MI-6?”
“He’ll deny it with his dying breath. If he can be killed,” Mac muttered. “I’ll make sure he stays away until I get you to Kane.”
“Thank you.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “For charging in to rescue me.”
He flashed a smile. “If I didn’t just see Kane kiss you like you were his last breath, I’d think I had a chance. Come on—time’s moving on without us.”
Elizabeth followed him to the main console as she tightened the loosened braid and tied it off. “Can’t you send me to the same time he arrived? Or right after?”
“I can send you to the same place. But the portal has a quirk; once an agent is offline, real time kicks in.”
“So, if an hour passes here, I’ll arrive there an hour later.”
“And hope he waited around. He will—he knows the protocol.” Mac tapped on the screen, paused long enough to pull something out of his pocket. She swallowed. It was a transport. “Ready for this?”
“I’m ready.” She kept running those two words through her mind—and hoped the repetition would eventually convince her.
