by Libby Drew
“Fine.” He signaled Reegan to hang back. “I’ll go first. Give me about a ten second lead.”
“No. I want you to stay here.” The words rushed out before he could stop them.
“That’s not happening.”
“Please.” He didn’t beg often, but never before had he wanted something so much. “I don’t want you hurt any more.”
“I’ll be fine. Worry about yourself.” Saul shot a glare over his shoulder, drawing Reegan’s eye to the lurid bruise covering his cheek.
“I—”
Saul slipped away, and Reegan gritted his teeth. Damn stubborn bastard.
If he made it to the apartment building that abutted St Brendan’s side garden, he could shelter in the shadows of the first floor terraces. But just because he succeeded didn’t mean Reegan would.
He counted out the seconds, forcing himself to wait the full ten. Even that short delay caused him to lose Saul in the crowd of pedestrians. Having him out of sight ratcheted Reegan’s tension even higher, until his shoulders were hunched high around his neck and his hands clenched convulsively into fists. At the appointed time, he stepped around into the open and began walking. As tempting as it was to rush, he kept pace with the other people on the sidewalk.
The fifty yards felt like fifty miles. His breath hitched as he walked, expecting a bullet’s impact with every step. Miraculously, the shot never came. Finally, he turned the corner and blended into the shadow of the apartment building, but the sheltered alcove formed by the overhead terraces held only empty cans and bottles. He faltered, choking on his alarm.
“Reegan, over here.”
He spun, catching sight of Saul. He’d tucked himself into a natural niche made by two intersecting walls. Reegan squeezed into the narrow space with him, praising the building’s modern architecture. “Thought I’d lost you for a minute.”
“Told you that wouldn’t happen until you were ready.” Saul’s eyes conveyed more than his words did, and Reegan’s throat closed. So much for leaving his heartache behind at Cammie’s apartment. They’d said goodbye in the cab. A lingering, emotional parting that Reegan hadn’t fought. It hadn’t felt sufficient, and here was proof that no goodbye between them ever would be.
He had to physically shake off the despair, but at least the shudder loosened his taut muscles. “Did you see anything suspicious?” He peeked around the wall, and Saul caught him and eased him back out of sight.
“No. It looks deserted.”
That fit, but trouble lurked beyond the thick stone walls and stained glass. Reegan had no doubt about that.
Saul pointed. “The side door you showed me looks unguarded, at least from the outside. They could be inside waiting. They probably are.”
Reegan expected no less. “So now what? Try a different entrance?”
“Nope. We get their attention and hope they take the bait.”
“What bait—Saul, no!”
“It’s the only way.”
“You’re in no condition to do that.”
“I can take care of myself.” Saul edged to the corner and leaned out slowly. “It’s our best chance.”
“They’ll expect that.” If their positions were reversed, and Reegan was guarding the portal, he’d prepare for such a trick. Anything to get him to leave his post.
Saul took a stuttering breath and nodded. “I know, but it’s our best shot. We don’t have time for anything fancier.” He stepped into Reegan’s space and braced his hands on the wall to either side of his head. “You be careful. No stupid risks. I’ll get them out of the church. You find Silvia and get the hell back home.”
No gentle goodbyes for them. Saul’s mouth slanted over Reegan’s, and all the control and distance he’d managed up until that moment evaporated. He could’ve demanded the same. Be careful. Be cautious. But in the end, Saul would do what he thought he had to in order to pave the way for Reegan and Silvia. The truth of that terrified him, because his lover’s fate remained a mystery. Saul might die when he was an old man. He could die today.
Losing him was already painful, leaving scars on Reegan’s heart that would ache forever. But knowing Saul’s life might not be the long, happy one he deserved made the pain unbearable.
Reegan yanked him close, breathing him in one final time. “Don’t forget me.”
“Never happen,” Saul answered.
Two backward steps put an entire world between them. Soon, if their plan worked, they’d be separated by more than a century. Saul flashed him one last smile as he backed away. “See you around.”
He dodged out of sight, and Reegan pressed a hand to his stomach, fighting a wave of nausea.
The wall jutted out at an oblique angle, forcing Reegan to stretch out into the open to watch Saul creep through the garden. They were invisible from the street. The door stood hidden around a protective wall edged with cherry trees and box hedges. Just inside, Reegan remembered, a set of narrow and dark steps led up to the narthex, where the three main doors were closed and locked.
The seconds ticked by, each lasting an eternity, stretching the moment in comical ways, so that Reegan became aware of every little sound. The tiniest movements drew his eye. He quivered, tense and ready to spring. Regret haunted him, that he hadn’t been louder with his protests. Their plan was too risky, with too many variables.
Saul edged up to the side entrance and put his ear to the wood, then reached for the handle and pushed it down. The door swung inward. Heart thumping, Reegan watched Saul’s shoulders disappear into the darkness, and suddenly it took all his willpower not to call him back out of obvious danger.
He never had the chance.
Saul reappeared within seconds, wrestling with Pigtail, and Reegan jerked forward before he could stop himself. He came to a halt in full view of the fight, frozen in place. Every instinct demanded he rush to Saul’s rescue, but interfering carried a lot of risk too. Distracting Saul from his plan, making himself a target, might do more harm than good.
Saul threw Pigtail off, punched Emilio, who was rushing through the door to join the fray, and took off running, moving much faster than he should’ve been able to, considering his physical state.
Reegan held his breath and ducked back behind the wall.
No way would they fall for it. It couldn’t be this easy. All these thoughts, and others just as pessimistic rushed through Reegan’s head, but his predictions proved false. The two men jumped to their feet and gave chase, sprinting through the side garden and into the street.
Saul had done his part. Now it was Reegan’s turn. He waited until Emilio and Pigtail were halfway down the block, running hard after Saul. Turning his thoughts away from his lover, he rounded the corner of the apartment building and dashed through the garden to the side door.
Inside the stairwell, the air was cool and still. He rushed upward, footsteps echoing in the vacant stone stairwell, emerging into the spacious narthex. Inky black in the corners and rainbow-colored where the afternoon sun filtered through the thick stained-glass, it turned back the sounds from the outside world with its thick stone walls. Reegan careened to a stop. Silence greeted him.
It had been too easy.
A niggling unease prickled at the back of his neck, but he had no time for paranoia disguised as intuition.
He’d given the stone and glasswork a passing appreciative glance on the way in, but what had appeared hallowed and grand several days ago appeared sinister now. He couldn’t shake the feeling they weren’t alone.
Remnants of restoration work long abandoned littered the main aisle to the altar, forcing him to slow as he navigated wood beams, workhorses, and haphazard piles of rotting wood. He’d left the eerie silence behind in the narthex. The nave teemed with sound and life. Birds fluttered in the rafters above, beating their wings at the intrusion. The rickety scaffolding surrounding the statues creaked and groaned in counterpoint to his rapid, muffled footfalls. Reegan’s heart slammed against his ribcage.
He’d made it
halfway to the altar when a deep voice yelled out. “Hey!” Reegan caught the flash of a laser sight as it settled on the pile of debris next to him. He threw himself to the ground as it exploded, sending shards of wood and nails sailing through the air.
Choking, he crawled forward on knees and elbows. He’d needed minutes. But he wasn’t going to get them. Already he could hear heavy footsteps pounding down the aisle. Another red dot appeared on the floor by his hand. He rolled away as a second shot rang out, splintering the wood beneath the threadbare carpet.
The birds had taken flight at the gunshots. They screeched, their panic carrying them into arches, walls and beams. Reegan rolled to his back, stunned for a span of heartbeats at the image of feathers floating through the air of the sanctuary. They settled in the dry baptismal font and on the weeping statues.
Emilio rushed out of the dark, vaulting a sawhorse to land on either side of Reegan’s sprawled legs. His face cracked into an evil smile, stretching the scar across his cheek. “Gotcha.”
Reegan gave a weak cough and lifted his hands in front of him, whether to ward off the evil look or the next bullet he wasn’t sure. “Took you long enough. Think you might need remedial thug school.”
Emilio centered the red dot on Reegan’s forehead. “Think so?”
“Asshole, I know so. Where’s Silvia?”
The guy laughed, revealing a set of straight, yellowed teeth, then jerked his chin toward the altar. “Taking a little nap before we go. Sorry you won’t be joining us.”
The irony cut deep. He’d survived everything so far, only to buy it twenty yards from the portal. After the pain of being parted from Saul, the failure felt trivial. But the task he’d be leaving undone wasn’t. If he died, Silvia would be left to fend for herself against her husband.
A shadow rose up behind the gunman, moving swiftly and with a preternatural silence. Reegan blinked to clear his vision, heard a startled oomph, and wiped his eyes clear in time to see Saul take Emilio to the floor. One vicious punch to the jaw did the job. The guy slumped to the ground. Using his agile strength, Saul rolled him over and grabbed his weapon before moving to Reegan’s side.
His pale face, smudged with dirt, was a welcome sight. He couldn’t have looked less angelic, with his wild eyes and disheveled hair. The bruise darkening his cheek was set off with a small splatter of blood drops. But against the vaulted stone ceiling, the stained glass, and the white doves, he seemed heaven-sent.
“You okay?”
Reegan’s voice failed him, and Saul grabbed his shirt collar, lifting him bodily from the floor.
“Reegan? Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Coughing, he struggled to his feet with Saul’s assistance. “What happened?”
“You were right. It was a trap.”
Reegan clung when the world tilted and began to spin. “I haven’t had a chance to send the recall signal to the portal. I think Silvia’s already in the sacristy, unconscious.”
Saul swiped a bloodstained hand across his mouth. “How long do you need?”
“Minutes. Just need to activate the recall sequence and wait for the collider to be ready. Four, maybe.”
“Okay. I can give you that.” He jerked his chin at the altar. “Can you make it on your own?”
He’d have to. Saul turned at his sharp nod, ready to lope back up the aisle, but Reegan caught his arm. “Wait.”
“No time.” Saul spun back long enough to press a quick kiss to Reegan’s mouth. “Get home safe. Do that for me, okay?” Without another word, he bounded away, toward the sound of more crashing and yelling beyond the narthex doors.
The distance stretched between them, then snapped, and Reegan felt the sting all the way to his toes. Fine. If that was Saul’s last request, Reegan would damn well honor it. Garnering the dregs of his strength, he started toward the sacristy, using the rows of pews for balance. The three stairs to the sanctuary tripped him up, but he caught himself on the altar and kept going. His ears rang, and his vision wavered, the fallout from too many blows to the head.
He fought it all back, focusing on the image of Saul’s face. Get home safe. Do that for me.
A massive arched wood and wrought iron door guarded the sacristy. Reegan called out as he limped the last few feet and caught himself on the frame. “Silvia?” Cold with dread, he threw his weight against the door, pushing it further ajar and stumbled inside, keying the recall code into his bio bracelet. “Silvia!”
Where had they stashed her? The room didn’t lack for places to hide someone. Wardrobes that had once held vestments lined the far wall, and between them lurked space where no light, even diffused light from the high windows, penetrated. He spun at the sound of footsteps. “Silvia?”
“No.” Victor D’arco stepped forward out of the darkness. His gun glinted as he pointed it at Reegan. “I’m afraid she’s indisposed at the moment.”
Reegan’s gaze settled on a limp body in the shadows behind D’arco. Silvia, silent and unmoving. The breath left his lungs all at once.
This eventuality hadn’t played into any of the scenarios he’d envisioned. He’d always assumed D’arco would remain in the future, safe. Where he would have his resolution, good or bad, in a matter of minutes. Instead, he’d followed Reegan into the past. Put himself in danger from a potential paradox. For what? Did he mistrust his men so much?
“What did you do to her?” Reegan’s voice, through slurred, emerged in a growl. D’arco stepped aside, giving Reegan a view of Silvia’s lifeless form on the stone floor. Reegan’s anger peaked and threatened to explode. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“Gave her a taste of what’s waiting at home.” His face rippled with rage. “She won’t run off again.”
Reegan dipped his head, cradling it in his hands. His bracelet gave a low beep. The collider had received his signal. “She’s done with you, you sadistic prick. You’ll have to break both her legs.”
D’arco picked his way over, stopping in front of Reegan, gun gripped in his hand. “I just might have to take your advice on that. Give me your bracelet.”
No need to ask why. Reegan hesitated, and D’arco raised the gun once more. Fuming, Reegan unlocked the clasp and handed it over. D’arco jerked it from his grip, then gestured at a recessed doorway across the room. From Reegan’s vantage point, it looked like a broom closet. “Get in there,” D’arco said.
The command made no sense at first. “What?” His bracelet beeped again, and D’arco closed his fist around it. Reegan went lightheaded with a rush of fear. “You’re leaving me here.”
“I’m afraid it’s worse than that. Don’t worry. The end should come quickly, unless you get buried alive in the rubble. Somehow I doubt you’ll be that lucky.”
D’arco’s words tumbled through Reegan’s mind in a confused jumble. He couldn’t make sense of them. “What are you talking about?”
Turning to point behind him, D’arco grinned. “I’m not going to kill you now, since there’s no predicting how your death will affect the timeline. Instead, I’ve taken the liberty of making sure you won’t follow.”
He’d have no way of doing so. Not immediately. Once this loop closed, Reegan would be stuck until Maxie opened another one. One look at where D’arco was pointing made the man’s intentions clear.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
The explosive device looked crude. The reason for that was obvious. D’arco couldn’t have brought tech through the portal with him, which meant scavenging for supplies to make a weapon here. Supplies probably obtained from the same people who gave him the guns.
D’arco strode to the device and sank to his haunches next to it. “Emilio assembled it for me. It’s frightening to look at, isn’t it? So vulgar and inelegant. But he assures me it’ll do the job. I know leaving you here is no guarantee someone won’t try to retrieve you later. That fat pig on the other side of the portal would give it a go, I’m guessing. I’ll be sure to let him know there’s nobody to come back for.
”
The device did look inelegant, but that didn’t mean anything. Bomb-making, unfortunately, wasn’t rocket science. Horrified, Reegan watched D’arco set two switches. Numbers appeared on a small LCD screen and began to tick backward. A countdown.
“You’re insane! I haven’t done anything to you.”
D’arco shot across the room, felling him with a blow he was too slow to dodge. A boot shot out, striking him in the ribs. “It’s no less than you deserve, touching my wife.”
“You twisted fuck.” Reegan shuffled away on hands on knees when D’arco raised his boot again. Beaten and bloody, he knew he was no match for a man with a gun, and D’arco must have known it, too, because he turned his back to fetch an unconscious Silvia.
He carried her to the center of the room and rested her on the filthy floor. Her head lolled as he set her down, revealing a dark, damp patch of hair aside her left temple. Blood. Reegan fought back panic. He needed to keep his wits, but the ticking clock didn’t leave him many options.
D’arco smoothed the hair off Silvia’s face, the gesture tender and loving. “Almost home, darling.” He raised his gaze to Reegan and waved his gun at the closet. “In you go.”
“You’re not waiting for your men?”
“After they were incompetent enough to let her get away in the first place?”
Reegan gathered the last of his strength. “That’s harsh. Bet you have a hard time keeping steady help.”
D’arco ignored the barb, turning to check the flashing numbers on the bomb’s timer. No more games or tricks. Reegan’s time was up. He waited until D’arco turned his head, then used everything he had left and leaped.
Failure had been almost assured, considering the circumstances. The distance between them. Reegan’s sluggish attack. But he’d held out a frisson of hope. That maybe his mission, weighing down the scales of justice, would succeed. He knew the moment he jumped that he’d lost. His injuries made him slow. Next to Reegan’s clumsy assault, D’arco looked like a graceful dancer, spinning and bringing the gun up to clip him across the face.