She slipped out of his arms, pacing away from him and stood on the edge of the copse of trees, her back to him. If she was ever going to tell him she was pregnant, now would be the time. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the price of going home—losing their memories…and each other. Would she be willing to give that up to save her parents?
“Is this truly what you want, Skye?”
“Dane, I…”
She didn’t know.
His baritone voice sounded almost pained. She didn’t want to turn and look at him. How could she answer that question? Either way, she’d lose. She flattened her hand on her stomach, certain Naise told her the truth. Their child would be all she had left of him.
“You have to make the decision,” he said.
“And have the loss of memory be on my head?” She looked at him over her shoulder, the tears suddenly in her eyes.
“No, Skye.” He closed the gap between them, turning her to face him. “If you intend to save them, then you have to stop me from killing them. Even if it means killing me.”
She stared at him, horrified, and shuddered inwardly at the thought. Kill Dane? She couldn’t…wouldn’t.
“And how am I going to stop you?”
“Because you’ll be the one who will remember. You have to save me from myself.”
“I can’t—” Tears choked her voice.
“You have to. It’s the only way.”
Her breath hitched in her throat as she clutched his arms. He pulled her to him, her head tucking under his chin and one hand fisting in her hair.
“I love you, Skye.”
Her heart stopped and she swallowed the lump in her throat. Why did he wait until now to say the words she longed to hear? Now when they were at their final hour, faced with the impossible. She crumpled his tunic in her hand and squeezed her eyes shut, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“I know,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to lose you, but if that’s what I have to do to give you back your parents, then that’s what I’ll do.” He pulled away, held her at arm’s length.
“How can you be sure I’ll stop you?”
He cupped her face, brushing away a tear with the pad of his thumb. He gave her that familiar cocky grin, showing off his dimples. “You’ll think of something. You’re a smart girl.”
“Dane, don’t make me do this. I can’t do it.”
“You can and you will. I have faith in you.”
Unable to stand it any longer, she launched into his arms, making him fall backward and tumble to the ground. He grunted as she landed on top of him. Her mouth clumsily found his, kissing him hard.
“Then give me one last moment with you.” She breathed the words against his mouth.
Gripping her close, he rolled her to her back. His long muscular form blanketed her. “It won’t be the last time.”
He kissed her deeply, passionately, making her melt into the grass. Her hands plunged through his hair, memorizing every line of him, every breath, the way he smelled. Her heart ached, knowing it could be the last time. He trailed kisses down her throat, behind her earlobe before pulling away.
“I saw Perron give you a dagger. Do you still have it?” He sat up, ruffled a hand through his hair.
“Yes, here.” She slipped it from her boot. “Why?”
“There’s one last thing I want you to do before we leave. I want you to mark me.”
“What?” She blinked, looking down at the blade then back up at him.
“Carve something in my palm that will make me remember you.”
“Dane—”
“Do it.”
He wasn’t kidding. A fierce light glinted in his clear green eyes. “All right.”
He held out his palm and she took it. On the heel of his hand, just under his right thumb, she placed the blade on his skin. She took a deep breath and glanced back up at him.
“Do it,” he said with a nod.
She pressed the blade into his skin and cringed when the blood began to flow. Blinking away tears, she curved to the left then the right making a small S shape. A strangled sob escaped her despite her best efforts to keep it inside. Dane pursed his lips together in a grimace as she finished but he never made a sound. She tossed the blade aside and ripped the hem off her dress in a long strip.
“Here.” She wrapped his hand and tied a knot so he wouldn’t bleed all over the place.
He raked his knuckles down her jaw, looking at her tenderly and wrenching her heart. She held his hand against her face, feeling his warm muscular hand. His palm opened, resting it against her cheek. She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him to her and fell backward, her legs wrapping around his waist. There on the grass, he made love to her. Despite his reassurances, Skye couldn’t help but worry.
* * *
Reluctantly, Skye straightened her hair and smoothed her dress and watched Dane pull his pants over his hips. She got to her feet and, without a word, he took her hand and led her back to the circle, through the stones and toward the center.
Naise waved them toward the Altar Stone, clutching Lara’s hand. Ben was nowhere to be found. The little girl’s face was tear streaked, despite the fact Lara had been so brave earlier.
“We have sent the girl’s father home. Now, as for you two…have you decided?”
“Skye will retain the memories.”
She squeezed his hand, still wanting to protest.
“Let’s get you home then,” Naise said. “Join hands and come closer.”
She waved them toward her as Dane grasped Skye’s hand. It felt almost like a death grip, he held so tight. Naise pointed to a spot in front of the Altar Stone. After Skye and Dane positioned themselves, she took both of Lara’s hands in hers.
“Now, child, open your mind and let yourself feel the magic.”
A small, strangled gasp erupted from the girl followed by a whimper.
“Do not fear it,” Naise continued. “The feeling will wash through you. From the roots of your hair to the soles of your feet.” Then to Skye and Dane, “Are you ready?”
“We’re ready,” Dane replied.
This was it. They were finally going home. Skye’s heart throbbed a painful tattoo in her chest as fear and regret sifted through her. She would be going home.
A cold, harsh wind whipped up, cutting her through to the bone. Her skirt shuddered around her ankles. Her hair blew in her face. She clutched Dane’s hand tighter, felt the need to reach for him. His arm went around her shoulders, clasping her closer to him.
Naise chanted words she didn’t understand in a language she couldn’t comprehend. The sky rumbled, lightning flashed. A bright white aura surrounded Naise and Lara, nearly blinding them. Sky squinted against the hard wind, the brilliant white light. A column of light erupted from the ground surrounding Naise and Lara and going straight up into the blackened sky.
Skye wrapped her arms around Dane’s waist, buried her face in his shirt and committed to memory the way he smelled—earthy and musky and terribly masculine. Then the ground fell out from under them and they were falling…falling…
It was unlike any time jump they did with the time bender.
She felt as though her stomach lifted into her throat, she had lost all sense of feeling. Her limbs were numb. Darkness pressed all around her. She couldn’t breathe. She opened her mouth to gulp in air and instead her lungs were accosted with icy air, sucking more breath from her.
And then, almost as fast as it all began, it ended. And, mercifully, Skye passed out.
Chapter Twenty: Amending Time
Skye’s head ached like mad. It was the first thing she was aware of when she came to. She could hear someone calling her name somewhere in the distance. Her head lolled from side to side as she tried to force open her eyes, which felt as though they were sealed shut with superglue.
“Skye! Can you hear me? Skye!”
A forceful pat on her chee
k got her to open her eyes. She blinked to see a shadowy figure hovering over her, blotting out the overhead light. Squinting, she tried to focus as she realized something hard and cold pressed into her back.
“Thank goodness you’re all right, Skye.”
But this wasn’t the voice she expected to hear. Her brows drew together as she tried to make sense of it all, to comprehend who this was. Clearly, this man knew her. But she wasn’t sure who he was.
“I was so worried about you,” he continued.
Thomas Hardy. It clicked then and she realized who hovered over her. She looked into his bright blue eyes. His messy blond hair seemed shaggier, longer than she remembered. His rumpled shirt looked as though he had been wearing it for days and he hadn’t shaved in weeks. She was used to the three-day growth, but now he sported a full dark blond beard. He gave her a relieved smile.
“You scared me to death, you know.”
He gripped her arm, helped her to a sitting position as she groaned. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and winced. Her scalp felt sore to the touch. Her teeth ached, for God’s sake.
“What happened?” she croaked.
And her throat felt raw. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry as a desert. Thomas, bless him, handed her a cup of water and she guzzled it.
“You fainted. Scared me to death. Are you all right?”
He hugged her then, making some of the water slosh out over the rim of the paper cup onto her jeans. She winced and groaned. Jeans?
She glanced down, saw she wore a pair of faded blue jeans, her favorite sneakers, and an old worn shirt. She had on jewelry she hadn’t seen in a while—her watch, her favorite silver thumb ring, a gold rope bracelet. What was going on here?
He pulled back quickly with a muttered apology. Glancing around, she realized then she was in the middle of his computer lab in Ransom Research and Development. Naise had sent her back here. But…where was…?
“Where’s Dane?” she blurted.
“Who?”
“Dane,” she repeated, looking around dumbly. “He was with me when Naise sent us back. I held on to him when the ground disappeared. Where is he?” Panic welled inside her.
“What are you talking about?” Thomas shook his head. “You hit your head pretty hard on the desk. I think you need to get it checked out.”
She pressed her fingertips against her sore temple, felt a growing lump there. “I hit my head?”
“Should I call 911?” Concern flooded his face as he reached for the phone.
“No!” She grasped his wrist. “That’s not necessary.”
“Well, if your father had seen it, he’d send you to the hospital, you know.”
She sat down hard on the chair, remembering everything then. Her mother had been killed in the café; her father had died in her arms. They had failed. She sniffed, tears welling in her eyes.
“Skye? What’s wrong?”
“I miss him.”
“Who?”
“Dad.”
“But he was here five minutes ago. Right before you slipped and fell.”
Her heart thudded suddenly as adrenaline shot through her veins. “What?”
“He’s in the next room.”
She stared dumfounded at Thomas and everything came flooding back to her. Her momentary disorientation was gone. Was he telling her she had made it back to the time before Dane killed her parents? Is that what he was saying? Naise really had sent them home, back to the time before they were killed.
She jumped up and ran out of the computer lab, down the hall to her father’s corner office. She flung open the door and it pounded against the wall. Startled, Conner Dade, who stood in front of the desk, looked at her.
“Skye, dear?” Jake Ransom stood up quickly, seeing the panicked look on her face. “Is everything all right?”
Thomas entered the room behind her, panting. “She fell and hit her head on the desk.”
“Maybe she needs some ice. Conner, get her an ice pack.”
“Right.”
Conner brushed her as he walked by and she fought the urge to punch him. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she ran around the desk and hugged her father hard.
He was alive!
“You’re okay,” she muttered against him. “You’re really here.”
“Thomas, just how hard did she hit her head?” Jake patted her back in that fatherly way. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”
“I don’t need a hospital!”
She stood back, looking at him. His hair was ruffled, his tie crooked. He smelled of tobacco and mint and his pipe lay on the desk next to an open journal. A breath shuddered out of her as she held him at arm’s length.
A quick knock on the door and Louise, his secretary, entered the room. “Mr. Ransom, your wife called to remind you about your luncheon date.”
“Oh, right. At Third Street Café?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied before leaving the office.
“You’re meeting Mom for lunch?” Skye asked, and everything came flooding back. “What day is it?”
“Skye, dear, you really need to have your head checked. It’s Tuesday.” He reached for his jacket and slipped it on.
“Tuesday?”
Mom and Dad had been killed on a Tuesday. She checked her watch; it was nearly noon. The robbery at the café had happened around 12:15 that day.
“Dad, stay here,” she said. “I’m going to the café to get Mom.”
“What? Why?”
“Because, I…” She paused, trying to decide how to explain. “Because it’s a surprise! Just stay here, okay?”
Without waiting for a reply, Skye ran out of his office, nearly running over Conner. She slammed into him, knocking the ice pack from his hands. She grunted an apology before regaining her footing. He caught her arm, spun her to face him.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked.
“Let go of me.” She tried to jerk her arm free but he wouldn’t release her.
She met his gaze and it sent fear trickling through her. The way he looked at her, with his jaw set, made her wonder if he somehow knew of their encounter in Brazil. Her logical mind told her there was no way since she had killed him then. His eyes narrowed to slits.
“I can’t do that.”
“You can and you will.” She pulled her arm back and punched him in the nose.
Stunned, he released her and stumbled backward a step. She bolted, running through the office building. Conner would have to be dealt with one way or another, she just didn’t know how. She needed evidence he hired a hit man—Dane—to kill them.
She hurried through the empty reception area and was a few feet away from the door when someone hard and heavy crashed into her from behind, knocking her to the floor. She landed on her left elbow, pain exploding through her body, and she had a sudden déjà vu. She heard a grunt in her ear, knew it was Conner.
He pinned one arm behind her back, twisting her wrist in his grip. No longer the weakling she once was, she used her injured elbow to jab him in the ribs. He groaned as he grabbed her with his free hand and dragged her to her feet. His hand tangled in her hair, yanked back her head.
“How did you know?” he breathed into her ear.
“Know what?” She squeezed the words out, and gulped in air.
“About your mother. How did you know?” This time his voice rose louder, angrier, in her ear. “That’s where you’re going, isn’t it?”
She needed a weapon, goddammit. Something, anything. She’d take a letter opener at this point.
“Let go.”
“I can’t do that, Skye.”
And then she remembered something Naise had said. I give you the power of wind.
But she wasn’t sure if she still had that power or if it would work without Stonehenge or the Druids or even Dane. She concentrated hard, thinking about a raging gusty thunderstorm on an unstable spring day. How the black clouds formed a twisting snarling funnel and threatened a tor
nado.
“I plan to kill you, too,” he whispered in her ear. “And then all—”
He released her suddenly and she whirled, watching as he flew backward into the wall. Pictures vibrated before crashing to the floor, the glass shattering. The entire building shook with the force of it. Blood trickled from his nose, his ears, and he gasped for breath. She stepped toward him, lowered her voice so only he could hear.
“You stay away from my family, you son of a bitch.”
She whirled and ran out of the building as workers wandered into the lobby to see what all the commotion was about. Outside, she paused, sweat rolling down her back as she scanned the parking lot for her car. She found her silver sedan parked under a nearby tree. But then that left her wondering about keys. Rarely, if ever, did she carry a purse and she patted her pockets, relieved to find them.
Yanking them out, she jumped into her car, started the engine and drove like a madwoman out of the parking lot. She pulled in front of several cars to a chorus of honks and squealed down the street, tires screeching. The clock on her dashboard read 12:04. The minutes ticked away and she had to hurry.
The signal light in front of her turned from green to yellow and she floored it, giving the old car a punch of gas as she ran the light through the intersection.
Usually she was a law-abiding citizen. She’d never speed or run through red lights, but today she had to get to the café before Dane did. She took a turn on two wheels and held her breath as she tried to keep control of the little car.
She was nearly at the café and started to make a plan for what she would do once she got there. Pull up and run inside? She floored it and turned onto Third Street, not far now from the eatery. She could see a blue van parked outside and the café window shattered.
The robbery had already happened.
She slammed on the brakes, running over the curb and throwing it in park. She flung open the door, leaving the car running. Dashing inside, adrenaline pumping through her veins and her heart throbbing madly, she scanned the carnage for her mother. And there she was, huddled against the floor.
A Break in Time Page 20