Kiss Across Blades

by Cooper-Posey, Tracy

  Veris just glared.

  “You’d better sit down, then,” Alexander said. “We were just about to hear the story.”

  Sydney slipped into the room behind the three standing at the door. “Hello David,” she said, her tone neutral. She smiled at London. “Taylor is with them. Jason is awake and hungry.”

  From the direction of the kitchen came the sound of childish laughter.

  “And doing a much better job of distracting them than I did,” Sydney added. “Marit, you’re even more tanned than last time.”

  “It’s unavoidable in Australia,” Marit said. “Hello Far.” She moved over to the window seat and settled on the corner. “I have a crayfish on the barbecue I’d like to get back to.” She crossed her legs, showing tanned knees and leather sandals wound about her ankles. Her toenails were painted coral pink.

  David said, “Sydney, I would like a word with you, after.” He moved to stand by the fireplace, a hand in the pocket of his elegant business trousers. “You three are responsible for the ripple, then?” he said to London, Remi and Neven.

  London lifted her chin. “Yes.”

  Sydney sat beside Marit. Veris took his usual chair in the corner. Brody and Alex took a chair each.

  London tried to think where to begin. Then Remi said: “I don’t know if this will be a surprise to any of you, but we were supposed to bring the children back here.”

  Veris leaned forward. “Why?”

  Remi took a deep breath and told them what had happened, from the moment they arrived. When he paused, or hesitated, Neven or London picked up the story, until everything had been told.

  No one interrupted them. Not even David. As they spoke, Rafe arrived with a mug of coffee and a plate of cookies. He handed both to London over the back of the sofa, then sat beside Sydney. He didn’t ask to be caught up on the story.

  While London ate and drank, Neven and Remi finished the tale, with their arrival back here in the sitting room.

  “Every loop, and loop within a loop, was a set-up so we would have to bring the children back with us,” Remi added. “Denis was primed to give them to us when he died, and London—as Lucienne—prepped him for when it would happen ten years in the future.”

  “I wish I had seen you in the tricorn hat and sword,” Sydney murmured to London.

  “She was perfect,” Remi said, his tone warm. “Her timing was down to the second. She didn’t hesitate.”

  “No more training wheels, hmm?” Rafe said softly.

  London smiled.

  Sydney climbed to the landing space at the top of the stairs, with David only two steps behind her. He had no trouble keeping up with her, with his long legs.

  At the top was a wide dormer window with a loveseat tucked into it. More armchairs and a chaise made the landing an oversized reading nook.

  She ignored all the chairs and stood by the coffee table centered between them. She faced David. “You wanted to speak to me?”

  David didn’t seem put off by her polite tone. He settled his rear on the padded arm of one of the single chairs and rested his hands on his knees. “Since I disbanded the Council, I have found it necessary to clean house even further. There are several clan leaders I have had to depose.”

  “Corruption is infectious, huh? Who’d’ve thought.” Sydney didn’t smile.

  “Yes, you are right to be pissed at me,” David said, his tone even. “I gave the Council far too much power and your mate suffered as a result. How is Rafe, by the way?”

  “Fine,” Sydney said, her tone cool. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that since Rafe had been returned to them, the relationship between the three of them—Alex, Rafe and she—was stronger than it had ever been.

  “Good,” David said, his tone as flat as hers. “There are troubling times coming soon. You would not be aware of it, of course. I can sense the build-up. Like static before a thunderstorm. I imagine Marit is growing uneasy these days, too.”

  “I suggest you ask Marit if you really want to know.”

  David’s smile was small. “I will. In the meantime, I am taking a far more active role in the control and administration of the timescape.”

  Sydney jerked in surprise. “Control?” she repeated, surprised. Then she frowned. “Have you been listening in on private conversations?”

  David looked amused. “Should I have?”

  Sydney realized she had revealed too much and David wasn’t the sort to let an issue lie. So she shrugged to make it seem a trivial thing. “Veris and I argue all the time about managing timelines, changing them if necessary.”

  “And you think time should be managed,” David concluded. “That is why I am talking to you, not Veris. He is too much an individual. He has been carving his own fate for far too long and has no flexibility left. You, on the other hand, have made vast adjustments just in the last few years—from simple human to a leader of strong people and headstrong vampires. Yours is the sort of adaptability I will need, in the future.”

  “What exactly are you saying, David?” Sydney asked, suddenly tired of the double-speak.

  “I am saying that the day Marit predicted when she was a very small child is here, Sydney. I want you to be queen of the western clans.”

  Sydney realized she had folded and was sitting on the coffee table. She brought her hands together and squeezed. “Reporting to you,” she guessed.

  “Reporting progress, taking suggestions on directions. We share similar goals, you and I. You will get to do the work you have itched to do, which you have, in fact already started. I will guide you in your efforts, as I can see farther ahead than you. So can Marit—and you will find her of great assistance.”

  “Why ‘queen’?” Sydney demanded. “Why not call it what it is? Your second in command, or director, or something like that?”

  David’s smile was knowing. “Most of the people you will direct are hundreds of years old. They are used to the traditional titles which indicate power. Kings, queens, emperors. They understand what authority those positions convey, while the subtleties of modern terms elude them. We will use the old names for now.”

  “Queens are crowned, and their lives mired in ceremony.”

  “You will be crowned, in a simple ceremony,” David said. “How much formality you include in your days is up to you. I would strongly suggest you maintain some formality. It will help keep the rugged individualists in line.”

  Sydney knew he was thinking of Veris. “Veris will not like this,” she told him. “He is convinced meddling with time is dangerous.”

  David’s smile was almost a laugh, confirming her guess that he had been thinking of Veris. “Veris will have his own projects to interest him. He always does. And he will come around, eventually.”

  “Once he has empirical evidence that the timescape won’t implode as a result,” Sydney concluded.

  “Exactly. You were a leader of men as a human. It was some preparation for what you will face as a leader of vampires. Do you accept, Sydney?”

  Sydney sighed. “According to Marit, I am supposed to, sooner or later. I guess, yes.” It was hardly a regal acknowledgment. She winced.

  David got to his feet. “You will grow accustomed to the idea,” he assured her. “I will be in touch.”

  Sydney watched him descend the stairs. He didn’t look back.

  “Queen Sydney,” she whispered, trying it on for size. She grimaced. It would take a very long time to get used to the idea.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rougeret Beach, Saint-Jacut-de-la-Mer, Côtes-d’Armor, Brittany. Two months later.

  London had to buy a far larger blanket to accommodate the three new family members for their weekly picnics beneath the old beech tree. Micheline was happy to crawl about the blanket beside her. Frequently, Micheline would grip London’s arm and stand on her feet, swaying. Very soon, she would walk.

  While Micheline chewed on a teething soother, the other three children played in the soft, dry sand at the
top of the beach. Even though it was February, it was a mild day. The sun was bright. Neven had brought them each an ice cream cone. They sat or squatted with their bare feet in the sand, exploring the strange new world of ice cream. Even Aimée licked cautiously, trying to decide if she liked the flavor or not.

  London anticipated that sooner or later, one of them would drop their cone in the sand, and tears would ensue.

  “For now, peace reigns,” Remi murmured, making London smile.

  “It has been a busy few weeks,” Neven admitted.

  The two-hundred-year-old house had become a construction zone as they adapted the upper floor to accommodate the influx of new family members. Remi and Neven did most of the work and called upon other members of the family for labor or building expertise. They were all much more experienced at construction after helping Veris, Brody and Taylor build their enormous log house, with its secret sub-floor and other extra details not visible to the public.

  London had her hands full acquiring clothes and necessaries for the three children, without raising eyebrows in the village. It meant jumping to London or New York or Los Angeles and shopping there, and sometimes to Paris, too. In between, she spent nearly all her hours orienting Aimée and Edgard to life in the twenty-first century. Micheline was young enough to learn everything the same way any other child did. Aimée, though, was eight, and forced to relearn all she had known about the world.

  She also had to be trained in secrecy. The girl was privy to the nature of vampires and time travel. It was necessary to educate her into the buried, invisible half of their lives and how they were different from “normal” humans.

  London was confident Aimée would adapt and learn how to juggle the two halves of her life—the public and the secret. She only had to catch Aimée’s expression when she stared at Remi. London saw growing happiness and contentedness in her eyes. It showed in the way Aimée would suddenly hug him. London knew Aimée was growing to like this new phase of her life and the new version of her father.

  Remi was blissfully happy. London had caught him humming a few days ago and had laughed at him. Remi shrugged, not bothering to be embarrassed or defensive. Instead, he had caught London up against him and kissed her until she melted. Then he had taken her up to their bedroom and demonstrated the advantages of his new mood.

  Neven, too, seemed profoundly happy spending his days constructing the structure of their human façade and getting to know their three new children. He didn’t suggest they pick up the work of cataloging other timelines. There simply wasn’t time.

  Micheline plopped back onto the blanket on her bottom, drawing London’s attention back to the present moment. London rested her hand on Micheline’s head. Micheline smiled up at her. The baby was always sunny.

  “Can I interrupt?” The voice came from the footpath, ten yards away.

  London twisted to look, while Neven sat up and brushed beach sand off his hands and Remi lifted his head off his hands.

  Marit stood on the footpath, an oversized down-filled coat wrapped around her, and heavy winter boots.

  “Marit!” London beckoned.

  Marit stepped through the sand to the blanket and nodded at them. She shivered inside the coat. “It is freaking cold here. When I left Perth this morning, it was a hundred and ten in the shade.”

  “It’s not that cold,” London said. Her own coat was not nearly as substantial as Marit’s.

  “What are you doing here?” Neven asked. “Has Sydney got more work for us?”

  Marit shook her head. “Queen Morrigan,” she intoned, “gave me an assignment. That’s where I’ve been all day—doing research. I reported to her an hour ago. She suggested I also fill you guys in.”

  “Cryptic,” Remi said shortly.

  “You’d better sit down and explain,” London told her.

  Remi sat up and reached for the thermos, flipped the lid and poured a cup of hot chocolate. He held the steaming cup out to Marit as the red head settled on the corner of the blanket.

  “Oh, God, thank you,” Marit said, with deep feeling. She rubbed Micheline’s belly, smiling at her, then sipped. “Okay. After you guys flipped back to eighteenth century France, Sydney asked me to check out the timeline you actually jumped to and see what happened after you left.”

  London made herself breathe evenly and ride out the temptation to tense up. “Nothing good, I imagine.”

  Marit sipped again and shook her curly hair. “That’s where you’re wrong. Sydney has a theory—which Far disagrees with, of course—” Her mouth turned down.

  Remi chuckled.

  “Anyway, Sydney’s theory is, well, she calls it the equilibrium effect.”

  Neven leaned forward, his interest sharpening. “Changes shake out over time?” he guessed.

  Marit pointed at him. “Give the man a prize.”

  Remi lifted the thermos and held it out to Neven. Neven rolled his eyes.

  London frowned. “That is what you were talking about when we were back there, wasn’t it, Neven? About time adjusting.”

  “Slightly different. I was talking about how it adapts to us going back in time. It’s closely related,” Neven said.

  “Your theory about time making instantaneous changes when we arrive in a new time is where Sydney got her idea,” Marit said. “You told her about it at the coronation and she kinda ran with it. Now I’m investigating known changes in the past and tracing them forward through the timeline they’re in, comparing the timeline to closely associated timelines and collating the differences.”

  Neven put his elbow on his knee and his chin on his fist. “It does shake out, then?”

  “It depends,” Marit said. “Some changes stop making causal chain shifts. They seem to wear themselves out, a year, ten years down the road, and everything returns to almost the same as it would have been without the change. It’s like a pendulum coming to a halt after slowing down.”

  She drank.

  “The other change is the tsunami one, which Nyara warned us about,” Neven guessed.

  Marit nodded. “This chocolate is amazing,” she added. “Yes, some changes pick up speed. They ripple across time, causing more changes, which cause even more. The shock wave keeps moving through time, changing more and more. Only, they eventually run out of juice, too.”

  Neven dropped his hand. “They’re the same…” he breathed.

  Marit nodded again. “We’re still compiling, still working it out, but yes, we think the only difference is one of scale. The tsunamis Nyara remembers destroying most of life in her time were huge. They swept over everything. In the end, though, they’re still changes to the timeline which eventually peter out, just like the smaller changes you guys introduced. Only, instead of running out of speed a few years down the line, they take decades, maybe centuries, to die down.”

  “Wow…” London breathed.

  “I don’t think there’s any ‘just’ about it when you’re in the middle of a time wave,” Remi said judiciously.

  “Sydney thinks if we can figure out how to predict what size wave any change to history makes, we’ll have far better control over…well, everything.”

  “The changes we made,” London said. “They smoothed out quickly?”

  Marit nodded. “You didn’t destroy the timeline. I thought you might like to know.”

  London let out a breath. “Thank you, yes. It is good to know we didn’t destroy thousands of lives.”

  “Just your own,” Marit said quietly.

  Everyone looked at her, startled.

  Marit grimaced. “The three of you never met. Remi—the version of Remi you called Denis—he died while you were there. It means he never met Kristijan. And it was Kristijan in that world, Neven—not you, the time jumper. And because there was no Remi in Kristijan’s world, he never had reason to control Remi’s loyalty by marrying London and making Remi feel uncertain about his place in Kristijan’s life.”

  Neven rubbed the back of his neck. “He was never
turned, then…” he said.

  “No.” Marit’s smile was small. “He died five years ago, of the wounds he received, without Remi to save him. London, you became a gene therapist and moved to the States. You’re single, with no children, and no partner.” Marit hesitated. “I think you’re lonely. It’s easy to get lost in a big city like New York.”

  The silence settled over them.

  London shuddered.

  Marit drained the cup and handed it back to Remi. “Thank you,” she said with deep appreciation. “It’s two in the morning, my time. I want to have a dip in the ocean before I go to bed, so…” She glanced around.

  “There’s no one to see,” Remi said quietly. “I’ve been watching.”

  Marit smiled. “Brilliant. Summer, here I come.” She barely bent her knees, and suddenly, she was gone.

  “There’s food for thought,” Neven said.

  “It’s depressing,” London replied. “We ruined our own futures.”

  “You heard Marit,” Neven said. “If we hadn’t made that change, something else would have happened to make sure the future ends up the way it does in that timeline. That’s what equilibrium means. Everything evens out and goes back to normal. Denis and Kristijan dead, and London still single…that’s the way it’s supposed to be over there.”

  Remi sat up and crossed his legs. “Thank the gods, the fates, the furies and whoever else’s ass I must kiss, that I am in this timeline.” He picked up Neven’s big hand and reached to lift London’s from her lap and held them. His eyes glowed with the intensity of his feelings. “I should have said this weeks ago. Thank you. Both of you. Thank you for giving me what I wanted. For risking it…for me. I know you did it because you love me and it…well, it makes me pathetically grateful that you love me that much.”

  Neven reached out with his other hand and pressed his fingers against Remi’s lips. “Shh… You think we don’t know this, you idiot?”

  Remi drew in a breath that shook. “I didn’t know it,” he admitted. “I thought I needed Aimée, Edgard and Micheline to make my life complete. Only, it was already complete, and they are very nice icing on the top.”