She nodded.
“Yonkers said he knew of a way to deal with you that was guaranteed not to come back on any of them. The captain told him to do it.”
Sydney swallowed. “But he didn’t say what?”
“The captain didn’t want him to.”
“Plausible deniability,” Sydney said bitterly, her voice low. She picked up the cup and sipped again. Then her gaze focused on Alex. “You’re not going to tell me how you know about this, are you?”
Alex shook his head. “I just wanted to warn you.”
Sydney put the cup down and hugged herself and this time she shivered. “I knew I was unpopular at the station. I had no idea how deeply it ran.”
“What will you do?” Alex asked.
“There is nothing I can do, if you won’t tell me your source. I can’t point a finger if I can’t back it up. Internal Affairs will get pissed that I’m wasting their time. The only thing I can do is work with my guard up. If they really do make some sort of move against me, I’ll at least be ready for it.”
“I really can’t tell you,” Alex assured her. “I would, in a heartbeat, if it gave you a way to neutralize them. But I just can’t.”
Sydney nodded. “I understand.”
“You do?”
“Sure. Confidential informants, privileged information, even Homeland Security…there are so many reasons sources are hidden. I’ve learned to shrug and work around it.” She gave him a weak smile.
Her easy acceptance let Alex relax. “Good,” he said. “I’ll be happier knowing you’re watching your rear.”
Sydney sipped her tea. “This really is so good. You didn’t make yourself one.”
“You’re the patient,” Alex told her. “Or you were. You seem to have recovered nicely.”
“Is that what I’ve done? I just feel angry now. What is it about women in a man’s world that gets men so hysterical, Alex? I do my job well, I don’t pee in anyone else’s territory, and I keep my nose out of their business. So why do they act like I’m going to emasculate them if they don’t wear iron jock straps and come out with all guns blazing?”
Alex smiled at the mixed analogies. “It’s because you are good, and because you operate outside their buddy system and are still effective. You do threaten them, Sydney, but not because you’re a woman. You threaten them because you’re good. Being a woman just adds insult to the basic injury.”
She tilted her head. “You speak like you know that from past experience.”
Alex nodded, a flood of old memories prompted by her question. “I do,” he told her. He could smell the Jordanian desert in his nostrils. The hot, dry smell and feel the hot air drying his skin wherever it touched him. The merciless sun that beat down endlessly. “When I was still living in the Middle East, I knew a woman who was involved in a very long war, when—”
“The Arab Israeli war?” Sydney interrupted. Of course, the history lover would want clarity.
“Yes,” Alex lied. After all, the Crusades had also been religious wars. “Naila Fathiyya was instrumental in the saving of…an entire battalion—” He had been about to say the entire crusade, but remembered to change it at the last second. “But no one remembers her name because she was a woman and her name could not be spoken aloud.”
“Naila Fathiyya,” Sydney said slowly. “Didn’t you write a book about a woman with that name? But it was from the Crusades.”
“The one I knew was named for her,” Alex lied quickly. “It’s where I got my inspiration the write the book.” He leaned forward. “The point is, Sydney, strong women always have a hard time competing in a world that is dominated by men. It doesn’t mean the fight isn’t a worthy one, or that your contribution won’t be remembered and acknowledged, even if it feels like you’re invisible right now.”
“Acknowledgement in a thousand years’ time isn’t much of a consolation,” Sydney said. “And I’m hardly invisible. Someone has a target painted on me.” She put her cup down. “I sometimes think it would be easier to just quit. Escape somewhere, like…” And she stopped suddenly and looked at him as if she had said something indiscreet.
“Everyone wants to escape, sometimes,” Alex assured her. “Look at me. I’ve been trying to escape for over a year.”
She smiled weakly. “But you didn’t. You’re still here, sitting in front of me.”
Alex’s heart gave a little start. She was gazing at him with those beautiful green eyes, and it was more than he could take. He leaned forward and kissed her…
* * * * *
It was the sun beating down on his bare head that warned him, along with the smell of the desert, which was strong and dry.
Sydney shifted in his arms, looking up at him. “Alex?” she whispered. Fear was big in her eyes. She wore a veil over her hair, but it wasn’t hooked across her face. Her gown was brushing around his ankles. She looked down at herself and up at him, and her hand shifted restlessly against his chest, over the dishdash he wore.
Over her shoulder, Alex saw the broad, clear pool of water that they had travelled three days into the desert to find. He recognized it instantly, for the memory was seared onto his brain. It was early morning and the shadows cast by a few date palms were long. Hundreds of ibex, with long spiral horns and dainty noses, were pushing toward the water.
Close by the date palms, where the shade was thickest, Taylor was just getting to her feet, a bow and arrows in her hand. She wore the knee-length chain mail Brody had insist she wear while travelling in the desert among so many enemies. Her hair was braided and coiled and she was watching the ibex.
Naila Fathiyya, Alex thought, with a mental sigh.
“Alex,” Sydney whispered. “What’s happening?” Her fear was growing.
“I think,” Alexander said, and he realized that he had slipped into medieval French without effort, “that you are supposed to say now that you’re not wearing a red shirt.”
Taylor dropped her bow and staggered forward through the sand toward them. “Alexander?” she whispered. “Is this ‘live long and prosper’?”
He gripped her wrist, trying not to alarm her. For her, this was a first time, too. “Taylor!”
“What year?” she said. “Quickly, what year is it for you?”
He told her.
Taylor squeezed his wrist with her other hand, while Sydney stood back, watching them, taking everything.
“You’re from my future,” Taylor said.
He looked around. “I came here to tell you how to shoot Ibex.” That was what he had done the first time. He had watched her line up on the ibex, then hesitate because she didn’t know where to shoot.
“I’m a jumper here myself,” Taylor said. “I don’t know how this messes with history. You need to go back.” Then she looked at Sydney, who was frowning heavily. “Alexander will explain everything,” Taylor told her. “He’ll bring you to me and I’ll explain more. You and I have a lot to talk about. You are the only other one like me I’ve ever met.”
Sydney’s eyes narrowed. “You’re speaking…English. Then what were you speaking before? Where are we?” Her eyes narrowed. “I know you. You’re the woman who lives with that rock singer.”
Alex’s heart jumped. This was dangerous. Very dangerous.
But Taylor was the first to respond. “Don’t say any more,” she told Sydney with an urgent tone. “Whatever you know about me, it’s from my future.”
Sydney’s lips parted in surprise. She turned to Alexander. “Alex?”
He tightened his arm around her. Oh…this was going to be a long conversation! But first they had to get home. “I’m going to kiss you again, Sydney, and you need to think of your apartment and tea and relaxing and going home. Then we’ll be back there again. You have to trust me for just a moment more.”
She glanced at Taylor. Taylor nodded. “He is telling you the truth. Do as he says and you’ll get home.”
Sydney nodded, looking around the oasis once more, sizing it up with a quick, swee
ping glance. She pressed her full lips together. “Fine,” she said, although her voice shook.
Alexander slid his hand gently under her hair, to cup her face. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. It was ambrosial, to kiss her again. But he made himself think of Sydney’s apartment. The low light. Bruce’s snores.
Sydney moaned under his lips, then he felt them move. It was like a giant hand had swept sideways through the air and scooped them up.
He opened his eyes, although he wasn’t aware of having closed them.
Bruce, snoring. Sydney’s cup of tea still cooling on the side table. The small pool of warm yellow light cast by the table lamp next to it.
And Sydney.
She was leaning away from him, pushing back against the back of the sofa. “What the fuck, Alex? What just happened?” Her investigator’s mind was already reaching for answers.
He stood up and dug in his pants pocket for his phone. “Do you remember what Taylor said? That she would give you answers? I’m going to call her now.”
Sydney’s hand reached for her throat. “My God, you were there, too. You saw it too.”
He hit the speed dial number and listened. “Yes, I was there,” he told her quietly. “We both were there.”
“Where?” she demanded.
“I think you know the answer to that,” Alex said.
Sydney pressed her hand to her lips. “The past?” she whispered.
Taylor answered the phone softly.
“Taylor, I think you’ve been waiting for this call for a long time,” Alex said. “Sydney and I just got back from ten ninety-nine. The desert. Do you remember?”
He heard Taylor’s indrawn breath, quick and surprised. “Yes, I have been waiting,” she said. “Sydney will want answers. Where are you? I’ll come straight away.”
Alex gave her the address and disconnected.
Sydney had picked up a pillow and was hugging it to her. “Taylor…the woman from that place. Gallagher’s wife, I think. I’m not sure if she was married to Gallagher or to…Veris. The big one.”
Alex sat back on the footstool. “Actually, she’s married to both of them.”
Sydney’s eyes widened. “And she can do…what we just did?”
Alex threaded his hands together. “It’s time travel, Sydney,” he said flatly. “Jules Verne used a chair, but we—or rather, you--can do it with your mind.”
“Me?”
“I’m presuming it is you that powers the jump.” He held up his hand. “Let’s wait for Taylor. She will be able to give you her perspective on this.” He hesitated, then decided it would be the smart thing to do, and added, “You might want to call Rafe and ask him to sit in on this. He deserves to know.”
Sydney pressed her fingertips to her temples. “He’s going to think I’ve gone crazy.”
“Maybe not,” Alex prevaricated. “Call him. And let’s wait until everyone is here. Then you can ask all the questions you want.”
“I’m going to have hundreds,” Sydney warned him, her eyes narrowed.
“I have no doubt about that at all,” Alex said.
Chapter Fourteen
Taylor arrived with Brody and Veris in tow, and Alex was deeply grateful.
“Of course we want to be here for this,” Veris told him when he tried to thank him. “This affects us all.” He turned to Sydney, who was standing uncertainly in front of her sofa. “We’ve met before, under much different circumstances. You should probably off-load everything you’ve learned about us through Brody’s arrest and start from scratch. It’ll be easier. Can I call you Sydney?”
The buzzer sounded and Alex opened the door, knowing it would be Rafe. Rafael peered past his arm holding the door open and spotted everyone in the small room, then looked at Alex. “Sydney sounded a little hysterical, but she mentioned time travel, which got me here faster than the LAPD would like.” He lifted his brow. “She was serious?”
Alex nodded. “We jumped back to Jordan during the first crusade. It’s a strong memory for me.” He pushed the door open further. “Come in. Veris is trying to be charming.”
Rafe grimaced. “I’d better save her, then.” He nodded to everyone in the room and leaned over Sydney and kissed her forehead.
Alex looked away and saw that Brody was watching him. Alex sighed.
Rafe settled on the sofa next to Sydney, pushing Bruce onto the floor at his feet. Taylor sat in the armchair next to it and Brody leaned against the arm, his long legs crossed at the ankles.
Veris pulled one of the dining chairs over to face the small group, but Alex didn’t do the same. He was feeling uneasy about how Sydney would receive everything she was going to hear and headed for the kitchen to put on the kettle to make her another cup of tea, so he wouldn’t have to look at her face, or at Rafe sitting next to her, holding her hand.
Veris started. Of course, it would be Veris who took the lead. But in this room he was probably the expert on time travel. He had studied it for years.
“There are a couple of big facts you’re going to have to face in the next little while, Sydney,” Veris said. “The first, is that all of us except for Rafe, there, have time travelled. It’s quite real and it comes with some very serious dangers.”
“Then you already know about this, Rafe?” Sydney asked.
“That’s part of the story. It’s complicated,” Rafe said.
“Yes or no? What’s complicated?” she demanded.
“Yes,” Rafe said after hesitating.
Through the hatch, he could see that Sydney had pulled her hand from Rafe’s. Alex sighed again and busied himself with the tea leaves. It was going to be long night.
* * * * *
Sydney wasn’t in the mood to believe them and Alex could understand her reluctance. Stated baldly, as Veris had done, time-travel was hard to swallow as something that was possible, especially if you spent all your life looking for facts, proof and evidence as Sydney did. She wanted to dismiss the jump that she and Alex had experienced as a collective illusion, a shared fantasy.
But Veris wore her down because he was who he was. He stayed calm and presented facts and logic only. He answered every question and he answered factually. Every now and again, Brody and Taylor would add their own thoughts, and they, too, provided straightforward observations.
Sydney started to unbend when Taylor riffed through all the languages she had worked to preserve from her travels. Ancient Celtic, which was hers and Brody’s language; Old Norse, which was the language she shared with Veris. Arabic. Even Alex was impressed with her Arabic; she spoke it like a native. He had settled himself on the edge of the table, staying more or less on his feet.
“When we were…back there,” Sydney said hesitantly, “we were speaking something other than English, until you spoke to us, Taylor. What was it?”
“You were in the year ten-ninety-nine,” Taylor said, “in the desert outside Jerusalem, where the allies were laying siege to the city.” She shifted languages again. “You were speaking medieval French.”
Sydney jumped. “I understood that!”
Taylor nodded. “You will, for a while. But the language fades, unless you work to keep it. I’ve had to let many of them go.”
Sydney was frowning, putting it all together. Everyone was watching her and Alex knew why. They were waiting for her to ask the very obvious question. Sydney was smart. She would soon notice the anomaly that Veris had slid over and she would ask about it. She wouldn’t stay overwhelmed for long.
She lifted the fresh mug of tea up to her mouth, then lowered it, her frown increasing. “Wait…” she said slowly. “You said that you could only travel back to times in your personal past, didn’t you?”
And here is the moment, Alex thought, bracing himself.
Veris nodded. “There are things that we’re still trying to figure out about how it works, but as far as we can tell, Taylor supplies the power—the push, if you like. Who she jumps with supplies the direction. The memory.” He sto
pped speaking.
Alex admired his strategic thinking. He had to lead Sydney through this and right up to the cliff. No need to push her over in one big leap. She would see it for herself and would accept it better that way.
Sydney put the tea down and picked up the cushion again. She glanced at Alex and he knew she had unraveled it. “But, we were at the first crusade. Alex doesn’t personally remember the first crusade.”
Alex cleared his throat. “Actually, I do.”
“So do we all,” Veris added. “We were all there.”
Again, he waited.
Sydney looked at Rafe. “Rafe?”
“Me, too, although I wasn’t anywhere near Jerusalem that year. We had our own problems in Spain.”
She was starting to shake. Alex could see her quivering from his seat at the table. “How can you possibly remember something that was nearly ten centuries ago?” she whispered.
Veris looked at Rafe. He nodded and turned Sydney’s chin so that she was looking at him directly. “That’s the second big fact that Veris spoke about a while ago, Sydney. There’s only one way we could possibly have those long memories.”
“You’re immortal?” she breathed.
“Not quite,” he said gently. “We’re vampires.”
The silence in the room was choking. The tension that gripped everyone as they waited for Sydney’s reaction was hard and anxious.
“Vampires,” Sydney repeated.
Veris leaned forward on his chair. “Don’t shy away from it,” he said sharply. “Forget everything you think you know, and take this on face value just for a moment. If you accept the hypothesis, then everything else makes sense.”
“Or one of you could just show her your fangs,” Taylor added. “By the way, Sydney, I am not a vampire. I’m just married to two of them.” She said it lightly, and Alex knew she was trying to lessen the tension.
Sydney swallowed, her throat working hard. “So, because you’ve…lived…so long, you remember back to the crusades?” she asked, and her voice was weak.
“Longer than that,” Brody said. “Blondie there was born in what would become Norway, in the sixth century. I think Alex is the baby among us. He was human, in the first crusade. That’s when we met him.”
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