Eventually the sand beside her moved as Harrison took a seat. She didn’t want to look at him, but couldn’t resist a quick glance. He rested his elbows on his knees and entwined his fingers. She saw straight through his casual posture. His shoulder muscles were bunched for her reveal. She felt her gut plummet. He’d never want to speak to her again after this.
She drew in a breath.
“Before you say anything…” Harrison ran a hand through his hair. “I need to tell you that... Look whatever it is that you are, I’m pretty sure it’s not a witch. I don’t feel cursed.”
He still wouldn’t look at her. Gemma was almost grateful. She was sure her birthmark was glowing right now. She rubbed the spot on her collarbone and cleared her throat.
“So what do you want to know?” She had toyed with the idea of making up a story, even spent most of History running through some plausible ones. But after his sort-of apology, all she wanted to do was tell him the truth.
He let out a deep sigh, brushed a thick strand of hair behind his ear and sent his piercing gaze her way.
“Let’s start with the basics. What are you?”
“Okay.” She licked her lips. “I’m human. I just have extra abilities. No one knows exactly where our kind came from. The electus, that’s the chosen seven, they arrived about one-hundred-and-fifty BC. They just appeared on earth and were found by this couple, Lucia and Quintus. They took them in and raised them.”
“The electus?”
“Yeah, according to the legend, they were the first of the spatia spiritus.”
“The what?”
Gemma shook her head and frowned. “Spatia spiritus. It’s Latin. It means…time spirit.”
“Time spirit?”
“See, I can…” She closed her eyes, steeling herself against the urge to run. “Travel through time.”
Harrison’s eyes grew wide. “You can...” He blinked slowly then laughed. “Time travel’s not possible, Gemma.”
“It is if you have the right blood.”
“The right blood.” He nodded and looked out to the horizon, his face colored with disbelief. “Time travel.”
Gemma nodded.
“Like Back to the Future?”
“Not exactly. For one, I can’t go into the future, I can only travel back in time and secondly, I don’t need a DeLorean.”
The joke was completely lost on him.
“You’re serious.”
She nodded again and he turned to stone. He stared at the ocean, his eyes wide, his lips partially open. Gemma held her breath, expecting to see him stand from the sand and run screaming back to his Stingray, but he just sat there like a stunned statue.
“You may want to think about breathing sometime soon,” she said, anxious for his health and an end to the ominous silence.
“Just give me a second here.” Very slowly he drew in a deep breath, held it for way too long, then released it. “So you are capable of breaking your body down into gold dust then re-attaching it back together in another time?”
Gemma nodded, too afraid to speak.
“So, right now, if I wanted to, you could take me to, I don’t know, Rome, eighty-two AD?”
“You want to be a gladiator or something?”
“No, I’ve just always wanted to see the Colosseum in action.” He sounded wistful.
“Well, I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work like that. I don’t have any control over when I go or where I go. And I could never take anyone with me. I don’t even know if normal humans could survive the transition.”
“So, if you don’t control it, who does?”
“My dad. He calls us, sends us, brings us back home.”
“Us, as in your whole family?”
“The five of us.” She nodded.
Harrison’s head slowly bobbed as he listened. “You travel through time…. So, not an alien, but still very weird.”
Gemma’s heart sank. This was it. In just a moment he’d stand up, walk to his car, and she’d never talk to him again. At least she felt sure, down to her very core, that he wouldn’t utter a word. She could still picture his eyes from earlier that day. How solemn they had been. She was going to miss him.
“So, where did you go today?”
It took her a moment to register his question. He was still sitting there looking interested. She swallowed down her surprise. “Calhoun, Kentucky, 1966.”
“Why?”
“Because we needed to help someone. Sano. That’s why we travel. It means to heal. See my dad’s an historical analyst. He…studies history looking for glitches, small things we could change to make for a better future. Sometimes he’ll see a problem in today’s society and track back to where it could be avoided, or he’ll find someone in history who he thinks deserves a second chance at life.”
“So, you go back and fix it?”
“Well, we try.”
“So what was in Kentucky?”
“We had to help this boy. He saw his father brutally murdered and it snapped something in his brain. When he hit twenty he just went psycho and ended up killing a whole bunch of people. He was finally caught, but just yesterday he escaped from prison, so Dad thought we should head back and make some changes before anyone else got hurt.”
“How did you fix it?”
“Well, Mom and I got the kid and his father away from the original murder site and the other three set up the killer and made sure he was arrested.”
“And you did all that in five minutes?”
She smiled. “No, time is different when we cross the line. It slows down or something. I think it works out to be a minute here is about an hour there.”
“So you were gone for…?”
“About five hours.”
“No wonder you always look so exhausted when you get back.”
She blushed.
“Why did you look as though you were in pain when you first returned?”
“Because it hurts. My body gets torn into thousands of tiny dust particles then sewn back together again. It really stings.”
“So that’s why you’re so strong…and why you heal so quickly?”
“Yeah, I just wish that when we were sewn back together the injuries would mend at the same time.”
“Does that happen a lot? You getting injured?” He looked so concerned.
Her heart squeezed. “Just occasionally.”
Silence descended for a moment as Harrison stared at his toes wiggling in the sand. Gemma studied him through her peripheral vision and wondered what he was thinking.
Could we just get this over with? Hurry up and walk away. I know that’s what you’re going to do!
“So, this father that you saved. How can you be sure it will make our future better? I mean, what if the son still goes on his killing rampage?”
Again, he surprised her by staying. Gemma licked her lips and plucked her voice from the pit of her stomach. “Have you heard of Felix Winton?”
“No.”
A small smile brushed her face. “Then it must have worked. His escape made every news channel in the country last night. You would have known about it.”
“Hmmm.” He looked worried.
“What?”
“I just can’t decide how I feel about people messing with the past. I think the past is what teaches us and helps us grow into better humans. You guys going back and making it all easy… I don’t know.” He shrugged. “That’s kind of like playing God a bit, don’t you think?”
Gemma frowned. Picking up a stick, she ran it through the soft sand, drawing random patterns that immediately disappeared.
“I’ve always hoped that it was God who sent us in the first place. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I guess it makes it easier for me, thinking of it that way. Like I was made for a purpose rather than just this freakish mistake.”
He chuckled and shook his head.
Gemma frowned. Why wasn’t he pale-faced and shaking? How could he sit there so calmly absorbing this info
rmation like it was just another history lesson? What was wrong with him?
“So, how does your dad decide what to change? Do you think God tells him?”
“No.” She shrugged and tipped her head. “Maybe? I’m not sure. All I know is that he does a lot of analysis.”
She could sense the answer wasn’t enough, but how could she explain something she barely understood?
“Dad thinks it’s better to look at individuals rather than the outcome of an entire nation. We can’t help everybody, so we just do what we can. Certain life histories capture Dad’s heart and those are the ones he focuses on.” Gemma shook her head and threw the stick she was playing with toward the water. “I struggle with these questions too, but I don’t have a choice. My toes start tingling and five minutes later I’m in another time and place. While I’m there I have a job to do and I don’t have time to second-guess my father. The quicker we get the job done, the sooner we can come home.”
Wishing she hadn’t gotten rid of the stick, she resumed her drawing with agitated fingers.
“I’m locked into this life, so I just accept what it is and try and find the good in it. Right now there are twenty families who didn’t lose a loved one to a serial killer. That’s got to have a positive impact on society, doesn’t it?”
Harrison nodded with a small smile. “I guess re-writing history isn’t all bad.” A frown burrowed into his forehead as he turned to look at her. “You really feel locked in?”
Gemma felt the blush flaming her cheeks as she dropped her gaze and shrugged. “I just feel like I have no control over my future. I never know when I’m going to have to run off to the ‘bathroom.’ It’s so embarrassing. I’m sure half the school thinks I have bowel issues.”
Harrison’s laughter made her smile, but it soon faded.
“The worst part is having to lie all the time. I don’t know why I hate it so much. My family are all experts, but I…” Her voice trailed off.
“That’s why you push people away.”
“Well, I try to. You have been a little more challenging.”
His chuckle was soft as he kicked the sand in front of him. “I understand the need for secrecy. If the wrong people knew about your family, you could be pretty badly manipulated. Your…talent…holds a lot of power.”
Gemma’s insides churned as she listened. He got it. He actually got it. She closed her eyes against the sudden swell of tears. The relief was overwhelming.
“Are you okay?”
She felt his hand slide up her arm and rest on her shoulder.
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded, unable to look at him.
“Liar.”
She could hear the smile in his voice as he squeezed her shoulder. Opening her eyes with caution, she turned to capture an image of his smile before it faded. His eyes softened as his fingers slid down her arm and wrapped around her hand. Her digits grew warm as the fire danced over her skin.
Harrison rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “You think your power has anything to do with this fire feeling?”
Gemma shrugged. “Who knows.”
“It’s definitely a sign though, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“A sign we should be together.”
“Too bad we can’t.” Gemma let go of his hand, trying to ignore the depression that was pressing down on her.
“Why not?”
Gemma looked at him. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I just said?”
She stood. Wiping the sand from her butt, she walked away from him, fighting for breath.
“Gemma, I heard every word.”
She turned to see him rising from the sand, looking confused.
“Then you know why!”
A small smile jumped over his lips then faded as he took a step toward her. “I know that you finally trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
Gemma’s heart skipped as he took another step forward.
“I know I want to be with you.”
He took another step.
“How are you okay with this?” Gemma took a step back. “I can travel through time!”
Harrison shrugged and closed the distance between them. “Hey, I was cool with alien. This isn’t much different.”
“I’m a total freak!”
“Yeah.” He grinned as he threaded his fingers through her belt loops and pulled her toward him. “But you’re my freak.” His breath tickled her skin as he leaned closer and whispered, “Face it, Hart, you’re stuck with me. I knew the second I touched you my life had changed. And you knew it too.”
“Um…how do you know that?”
His eyes lit with amusement. “Your birthmark’s showing.”
Gemma couldn’t swallow down her gasp. It came out all breathy as she reached for her shirt and tried to yank it across her collarbone. He stopped her with quick fingers. She kept her eyes on his face as he moved her shirt aside and gently slid his thumb over her skin. It burned hot.
His fingers lingered there for a moment as if wondering at the searing sensation then began moving. They danced over her flesh and came to rest on the back of her neck. His thumb gently rubbed the edge of her jaw.
She could barely breathe as he leaned toward her with a soft smile. Their lips met for a delicate introduction. Gemma had never felt anything like it in her life. A tender flame danced along her soft skin then grew with fervor as Harrison deepened the kiss. His tongue was warm and delicious.
The world around her became fuzzy as every sense in her body drew itself into the kiss.
It was magic…and one taste would never be enough.
There was no way she could live without this.
The implications of that fact were deadly.
Chapter Twelve
St. Augustine, Florida - 2011 AD
Harrison finished whistling the tune from the car as he pulled open the kitchen door and dropped his keys on the counter. Smiling at his mother, he kissed her cheek as he walked to the refrigerator.
“You seem happy.”
He spun to face her with a can of Coke in his hand, tried to pull his lips into line but lost the battle.
His mother gave him a suspicious look before turning back to the carrots she was chopping. “Are you going to tell me why?”
He sauntered to her side, leaning his hip against the sink. “I’ve just had the best afternoon.”
“I’m going to need more details than that, Harrison.” She pushed him aside to reach the faucet and rinse off the broccoli. “After nearly two weeks of moping around this house in a daze of confusion, you come home smiling like a chimpanzee and all you can tell me is that you’ve had a good afternoon.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “This wouldn’t happen to be about a girl would it?”
Harrison smiled again. “Maybe.”
“Are you going to tell me about her?”
He studied his Coke can, flicking the tab repeatedly. “Mom, would it freak you out if I told you that I think I’ve found my other half?”
Her body went still as she looked at him. Rather than the disbelieving twinkle he’d been expecting, he was met with a melancholy stare.
“I just feel like she was made specifically for me.” He shook his head. “That probably sounds stupid. I’ve only known her for a couple weeks, but she finally let me in today and I don’t know, she’s just…” He finished with a blissful sigh.
“It’s not stupid.” Her eyes misted over.
Harrison felt his throat swell. There was that look again—such unrequited longing. It was heartbreaking. He knew who she was thinking about and needed to get the conversation back onto healthier ground.
“Anyway…”
“Helen?” Bryan’s booming voice made them both jump.
“In the kitchen, sweetie.”
The sound of the knife hitting the chopping board punctured the air as Bryan lumbered into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around his wife. After kissing her cheek, he headed to the fridge for a beer.
&
nbsp; “Hey, Harrison.” He screwed the top off his bottle and threw it in the sink. “You’re home late today.”
“I had a meeting after school.”
“What’s her name?” He didn’t miss much.
Harrison took a swig of drink and grinned. “Gemma.”
“Well, I want to meet her. Why don’t you invite her over for dinner sometime.” Helen’s crystal blue eyes had cleared back to their usual brightness when she glanced up at him.
“Mom,” he pleaded.
“It’s about time you got yourself a girlfriend.” Bryan’s eyes danced with amusement as he slapped Harrison on the back.
“How about this weekend?”
“No way. Give me a break, Mom.”
“Well, how about next weekend then?”
“I don’t know. She’s kind of shy. It’ll take a bit of convincing.”
Helen grabbed the crumpled towel off the bench and dried her hands. “Look, Harrison, if you’re serious about this girl, then you’ll find a way to persuade her. We have to meet her eventually, right?”
“Yeah.” Harrison looked down at his soda. “Eventually.”
His insides quivered. He was pretty sure Gemma would hate the idea of meeting his family. But he was certain his mother wouldn’t back off. She knew him too well to think this was a casual fling. She’d keep needling until Gemma was standing on their doorstep.
One evening meal couldn’t be all bad, could it? He’d make sure things stayed light and casual. It’s not like anyone would ever guess Gemma’s secret.
But how did he persuade his new girlfriend of that?
“So.” Bryan grabbed his shoulder. “What makes this girl so great?”
Harrison shook free of his stepfather’s grasp and headed for the hallway. “Well, for a start…” He turned and played thoughtful for a moment. “She owns a Ducati.”
Harrison’s smile was smug as he walked out of the room listening to his mother’s giggle.
“Close your mouth, dear.”
*****
By the time Harrison arrived at school the next morning he had concocted a few different conversations to convince Gemma to meet his family. He decided to sit on them for a couple of days first. He knew today would be challenging enough for her. She hated how people talked and they would definitely be talking when they saw them together.
Golden Blood (The Time Spirit Trilogy, #1) Page 9
