by Hahn, Joni
Mitchell just stared at the screen.
“What is it, dammit?” Tristan’s tone held the same demanding tone as Mitchell’s had earlier.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Mitchell lowered his voice to a faint whisper. “Nothing.”
Rising from his chair, he got up and walked out the door.
Chapter 15
After examining the video for an hour, Tristan and Aidan gave up trying to figure out what Mitchell saw in that scene. Other than the blonde saying Jocelyn was back, nothing had changed from one minute to the next. There was no sign of the damaged computer, no sign of the gold, nothing.
They just didn’t get it.
Later that evening on the roof, Aidan stood beside Tristan and stared up at the faint stars. He’d had it with the hospital gown so Tristan grabbed him a pair of grey athletic shorts and a U.S. Navy t-shirt from his apartment. It hurt like hell to walk, and he probably shouldn’t be doing it so soon. Yet, he knew that the sooner he moved around, the sooner he’d get back on his feet and in bed with Cass.
He hungered for her to near obsession. One night definitely wasn’t enough. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough. With her away in Creekmore, he’d grown more anxious as the day wore on. He hated being away from her.
“I’m in love with Cass.”
Tristan grinned, his face shadowed in the dim blue light of his armband. “I know.”
Aidan whipped around to look at him. “How do you know?”
“You told her.”
“I did not.” Did he?
“You did. When you were stuck between… times. She heard you.”
Dammit. He’d wanted to tell her tonight.
“What was it like?” Tristan turned to look at him. “Floating out there in… limbo?”
Aidan stared out at the speckled gray before him. “Kind of like this, but no stars. Just darkness and me.” He stared down at his bare hands. “I remember staring at the blood on my hands and my side, and thinking I’d never see her again. It tore me apart.”
“Tell her.”
The two of them turned around. Mitchell lay on one of the lounge benches, one arm over his eyes, the other hanging off the side, an empty bottle of bourbon loosely clasped in his fingers.
The two of them exchanged a glance before walking over. Tristan tried to take the bottle from his hand.
Mitchell tightened his grip. “I’m not through with that.”
Aidan sat on the coffee table behind Tristan. Mitchell Jacobs lay just this side of passed out drunk. His words slurred into each other, his dark hair sticking out in all directions.
The man that always had it under control had lost it.
Tristan squatted in front of his father. “Looks like you are through with it.”
“No.” He shook his head against the bench. “I’ve still got a few swallows.” Raising it to his mouth, the remnants spilled down his face.
It was empty now.
“What are you doing out here, Mitchell?” Tristan said.
“Drinking. Heavily.” He laughed, bourbon gurgling in his throat.
“No shit. Why?”
Swallowing hard, Mitchell’s throat bobbed.
“Mitchell…” Tristan said with a warning tone.
“I f’d up, Tristan. I freaking messed up.”
Aidan could see the genuine worry in his best friend’s blue gaze. Scooting over, he made room for Tristan to sit in front of his father.
“What happened?” Tristan said.
“I let her go.” His voice thick with tears, Mitchell shook his head. “I loved her. God, I loved her.”
“Who? Mom?”
He nodded against the bench. “And, with some freaking grace from above, she loved me, too.” He gave a bitter laugh. “For a while, anyway.”
He turned to look at Tristan, his eyes unfocused. “When I would get home from an op, she would start undressing me as soon as I got in the door. Sometimes we’d make love right there in the doorway. The dinner she made would grow cold, the candles burned down to nothing.” His hand sliced the air.
He pointed at Tristan, the bottle dangling from his fingers. “When she found out she was pregnant with you, I was in Grenada. She called Admiral Jones and made him track me down.” He chuckled to himself. “I’m in the middle of the jungle and I get a call over the radio, expecting my CO. Her sweet-“ He swallowed hard. “Her sweet voice comes over the radio. ’I’m pregnant, honey.’ She started crying and laughing at the same time.” His voice softened. “Of course, there I stood, surrounded by my team in the middle of a freaking Grenada jungle, laughing and crying with her.”
Tristan swallowed hard. “If you were so happy, what happened?”
His arm dropped, the bottle breaking against the roof floor.
“Shit, Mitchell...”
Leaning forward, Tristan grabbed the neck of the bottle from his hand. Aidan picked up the big pieces and placed them on the table behind him.
With his arm over his eyes again, Mitchell sniffed back tears. “If they would’ve given that damned promotion to Naylor, she’d still be with me.” He shouted a loud, succinct curse.
Aidan hung his head. Angela had left him because he left her home alone too much. A common problem for SEALS and other Special Forces soldiers.
He had to remember that with Cass. He couldn’t allow this job, his powers, to take over his life.
Tristan’s voice grew weary. “Mitchell, what’s done is done. It’s in the past.”
“You can say that again.” He laughed like he’d told the funniest joke.
The laughter stopped in an instant. “Oh God, what have I done?” He rolled to his side as if in agony.
“Mitchell?” Tristan touched his arm.
No response. Had he passed out?
“Mitchell.” Tristan said it with more force. “What happened today? What did you see?”
His words were slurred. “The woman in the video…”
“What about her?”
“She’s your mother.” His snores echoed in the desert silence.
Leaving behind Mitchell to sleep off his drunk, Aidan struggled to keep up with Tristan’s angry strides. His side burned like hell.
“Do you think he meant what he said?”
Aidan’s gut told him Mitchell spoke the truth. He’d seen the woman in the flesh and Cass looked a lot like her. Hell, it’s what had drawn him to her in the first place.
Tristan turned the corner, storming past the guards on the Administration floor. “There’s only one way to find out. I’m going to pull my file. There’s bound to be a picture of her-“
Both of their armbands lit up. They looked at each other before answering in unison.
“Cass.”
“Rachel.”
Aidan walked away from Tristan so he could hear. “Are you okay? Are you with Rachel?”
“Yes. You and Tristan need to get down here, Aidan.” Her words were rushed, as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough. “There’s a storm brewing.”
His heart shot to a gallop. “Like a time travel storm?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Where are you?”
“We’re at the charity donation store dropping off Ben’s clothes.” He heard the wind in the background.
Shit. That meant they were just down the street from the electronics store. “Do not leave that store, understand me? Stay inside.”
“The store’s closed. We’re dropping them off at a box outside.” He heard thunder boom in the background, rain pounding the truck with force.
Tristan tapped him on the shoulder. “I told Rachel to get to the ranch. The agents are there.”
So was Ben’s gun collection.
Nodding, Aidan fell in step with Tristan who headed in the opposite direction of the Administration offices. “We’ll be there in a minute, baby. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried about us, I’m worried about you. Why are they coming back? Are they after you?”
Jocelyn
. Maybe she’d come forward for help.
“I’m the last person you need to worry about, Cass. You and Rachel get to the ranch.”
“Got it.”
He signed off and sighed. “I told the girl, Jocelyn, to come forward if she needed help.”
Halting mid-step, Tristan stared at him, mouth agape. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
He shrugged. “We never got that far. Mitchell walked out.”
Tristan ran his fingers through his hair.
“She’s afraid. She asked me to bring her back.”
Tristan shut his eyes, clearly exasperated.
“Come on, Jacobs. You saw Buckner hold that gun to her head. You know she’s in danger.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Tristan started walking again. “If it’s her, we need to help her. If it’s not, they came after you.”
“Or the gold. Or the weapons.”
Tristan stopped at the weapons room and scanned his thumb over the access panel. He shoved open the door.
Aidan followed him inside and grabbed a Beretta 9MM out of the case. “And if it’s your mother?”
Tristan checked his gun before shoving it in the back of his jeans. “If my mother’s been living in the past all of this time, I will kill Mitchell myself.”
#####
Cass looked up at the silent sky, clouds giving way to brilliant stars beyond. Rachel shifted the old truck into first as she slowed to a stop on Main Street.
Two men appeared in the headlight beams, blocking their way. Wearing old military uniforms, one was blond, the other olive-skinned with dark hair. Each pointed a gun at the windshield.
What had to be the time machine sat several yards in front of them, parked in the middle of Main Street. No other traffic sat at the four-way stop, the road dark in all directions. They were in this alone.
Cass didn’t move a muscle. “Gun it, Rachel.”
“Betsy doesn’t gun it. She chugs.” Her hands held the wheel in a tight-knuckled grip.
“Get out of the truck,” the blond said.
Dammit. She had to keep them distracted until Aidan and Tristan showed up.
“Know self-defense, Rachel?”
“Nope.”
Shit. She had to teach her sister a few things when they got back.
Unbuttoning the top few buttons of her blouse, she sighed. “It’s time to show some cleavage, Sis.”
Rachel gave a short nod. “Got it.”
Putting the truck in park, Rachel pulled down the collar of her scoop-necked tee to reveal the edge of her leopard-print bra.
“Let’s go. I’ll do the talking.”
Rachel gave a slight nod.
Opening their doors at the same time, Cass met Rachel at the front of the truck. Puffing out her chest, she gave the sailor’s each a flirtatious smile.
Lowering their guns, their eyes swirled with interest.
“You boys in town for the gun show?” She held her bottom lip between her teeth.
Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I heard there were some really hard-core enthusiasts there.”
Holy cow. Her sister was a natural.
The dark-haired one stepped forward and ran a finger down Rachel’s arm. “I can show you hard, sweetheart.”
Cass didn’t like the way he touched Rachel. If her shiver was any indication, neither did Rachel. She had to distract him.
“What about you sailor?” She batted her eyelashes at the blond.
He glanced from her to Rachel and back, his grin cocky. “I’ve got plenty for both of you.”
“Sounds like fun.” She told him, licking her lips.
“We gotta take care of some business first,” the dark-haired man said. “We’re looking for a guy…” He gave an uncomfortable laugh. “That can shoot lightning from his hands.”
Cass and Rachel laughed aloud while her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. They were here for Aidan.
She had to hinder them before Aidan got there. He was in no shape to fight.
“Sure, and I can shoot fireworks out of my bra.”
Cass laughed louder, her gaze shooting to Rachel – who pulled back and punched the dark-haired sailor in the nose. Covering his face, he turned away with a growl of rage.
Oh, blast.
Hands locked together, Cass chopped down on the blond’s arms, knocking the gun from his hands. Kicking it into the darkness, she grabbed Rachel by the shirt and ran to the passenger side of the truck.
A shot fired from across the street. The sailors ducked. Cass and Rachel bent lower behind the truck. Where had that shot come from?
Grabbing the gun from the dark one’s hands, the blond fired into the darkness. A bright light flashed in front of the electronics store a few doors down.
“Cass! Rachel!”
She shared a glance with Rachel in the shadows of the streetlamp. The guys were there. Thank God.
Cass yelled at them. “They have one gun and someone’s across the street.”
“Are you both okay?” Tristan said.
“Yes.” Rachel yelled back.
“Well lookee here.” The blond pointed a gun at Aidan. “He came to us, Nichols.”
“I’m flattered boys.” Aidan stood poised, his gloved hands in front of him. “You came all this way for little ol’ me.”
“Colonel VonFussenhoffer will be pleased. He promised us a nice little bonus if we bring you back alive.”
“Not gonna happen.” Jumping up, Tristan twisted around in mid-air and side-kicked the dark one in the face. He flew backward, skidding across the asphalt. Tristan followed after him.
Yes.
Aidan pointed his fingers at the blond. Sparks shot from his diodes, then fizzled into nothing. He frowned at his hands.
The blond laughed. “Forget to charge your batteries?”
Cass swallowed as Rachel clutched her arm. Aidan must be too weak to create a full charge.
She had to help him.
Running out from behind the truck, Cass saw Aidan’s eyes widened right before she kicked the gun out of the blond’s hands.
“Cass, get the hell out of here.”
Aidan jumped between her and the sailor, landing a blow to the blond’s face. The sailor stumbled back. Aidan’s punch looked weak as he favored his wound.
The sailor came back for more.
When Aidan went for another right hook, the man ducked away and gave Aidan a hard blow to his left side. Aidan doubled over and fell to the ground, his growl echoing off the storefronts.
“Aidan.” Running to him, Cass stopped short when the blond grabbed her arm and dragged her down the street.
“Let go of me.” She twisted out of the hold just as Rachel came up from behind and jumped on his back. Grabbing him around the neck, Rachel jammed her thumb into his eye socket.
Screaming aloud, the man flung her off his back. Rachel fell to the street, her head hitting the curb. She lay unconscious.
“Rachel…” Horrified, Cass stared back at her sister as the man dragged her to the door of the time machine.
She couldn’t go back in time. She’d never get back.
“Aidan.” Yanking her arm, she got away.
The man grabbed Cass by the hair and pulled her back. The
sting made her eyes water. She tried to brace her feet on the stairs as he dragged her up, but it just made him yank harder. She saw Tristan reach Rachel just as Aidan hit the bottom step of the time machine. Blood pooled on the left side of his shirt.
His gloves glowed bright copper.
Taking the ends of her hair in his hands, Aidan peeled away the sailor’s fingers. The machine door closed, locking them inside a compartment just large enough for four occupants. Cass could hear the storm brew outside.
“Cass, get off.” Aidan punched the sailor, who stumbled back into a chair. The small industrial-looking confines left little room to move.
“How do I open the door?” She studied the primitive-looking buttons on the
console to her left. A display showed the date June 29, 1944.
“No.” the sailor said. “The door has to stay closed or we’ll all vaporize. Once you shut the door, it has to leave.”
Not if she had anything to say about it.
The machine revved higher and higher.
Aidan grabbed the man by the throat, zaps of electricity sparking around his neck. The sailor’s body quivered with shock.
“How do we open the freaking door?”
Reaching behind Aidan, the man slapped at a red button on the lower console, trying to reach it. Rushing over, Cass slammed down her hand on top it.
The door slowly opened.
The engine raced higher.
Shoving back the man into a seat, Aidan grabbed Cass’s hand and dove out of the machine. They hit the asphalt with a thud and rolled away. Rain and wind whipped at them without mercy.
Aidan shoved her away from him. “Get back.”
Pushing against the wind, Cass raced to the back of the truck. Aidan opened his arms wide, lightning bolts cracking and radiating off him like sunrays. Electricity spiked and arced in the air, the current’s deafening hum echoing off the store fronts up and down the way. Streetlamps popped, then shattered, whipping glass into the frenzied winds. Tristan shielded Rachel with his body as Cass hunkered lower against the truck.
Aidan raised the craft above their heads, twin bolts of lightning suspending it in midair. The open door flapped in the violent winds as the craft bobbed and shook like a ship tossed at sea. Frightening screams from inside the craft carried over the raging storm.
A bright flash lit up the street before it vanished.
The street went quiet. Aidan dropped his arms before Tristan ran to him. Together, they disappeared into the darkness.
Rachel appeared at her side. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, Cass hugged her sister tight. “Are you? How’s your head?”
“I’m growing a second skull but I’m fine.” Rachel looked around behind them. “From now on, I’m carrying a gun when I’m away from Tris.”
“What for, with a right hook like that?”
Rachel laughed. “Not bad for a small town girl from Texas, huh?”
“Speaking of, what happened to that man?”
They exchanged a worried glance.
“Last I saw, Tris had him down there.” Rachel pointed down the street.
