by Libby Drew
He dropped, choking at the rush of blood pouring across his cheek. The darkness that had been hovering at the edges of his vision for the past ten minutes finally closed in.
His last thought was a prayer. A desperate intercession that Saul wouldn’t be in the building when the bomb went off.
Chapter Twenty
The best-laid plans could go to hell in a hurry. Saul knew that lesson backward and forward, so having his backfire wasn’t a shock, but it terrified him as never before. This wasn’t a training mission, or an operation filled with faceless people he’d never see. This was life or death for Reegan and Silvia. He couldn’t afford a margin of error.
He expected to be jumped at the church door, and D’arco’s men didn’t disappoint, which said much about their lack of training. If they’d caught Saul in the stairwell, the odds would have been more even. By going after him too soon, they lost their advantage, and, as Saul predicted, their good sense as well. Both chased him out of the building and onto the street. Up until that point, things went exactly to plan. Too well to plan.
Running fast enough to stay ahead, but not so quickly as to get caught would have been easy on a normal day. Today every stride made his vision gray out with pain. The bright midday sun speared straight through his eyes into his brain. Much more and he’d pass out.
One block past the church, he slowed, pretending at a cramp, and limped off the sidewalk into a vacant lot. The sounds of pursuit grew. Saul heard the uneven panting breath of a runner out of shape.
Wait. Only one? He spun round as the first man, tall and thin with a ponytail at his nape. bounded into the packed dirt of the lot and came at him, lips curled back in a growl. The one Reegan called Pigtail. He grinned at finding Saul cornered. Wary, Saul retreated across the scrubby grass as he closed in.
The second man should have been right behind the first, but there was no one there.
Pigtail came at him, fists flying. Saul blocked the first two punches, still retreating, hoping the second guy was just slow, but after several seconds, realized the truth. He’d circled back to the church while this one had given chase. They’d turned Saul’s plan around on him, keeping him distracted in order to catch Reegan.
“Son of a bitch.” He didn’t hold back, taking Pigtail down with one kick to the stomach and two upper cuts. The guy hadn’t even hit the ground when Saul sprinted past, arms pumping. As though mired in a bad dream, his feet couldn’t move fast enough. The church never got closer. He pushed down wave after wave of fear, anger and pain. Fear for Reegan. Anger at himself for underestimating his enemy. One lesson that never stuck.
He hit the side door at a run, jarring his shoulder, but nobody challenged or tried to stop him. Vaulting up the steps, he skidded onto the dirty marble floor of the narthex as a gunshot sounded, echoing against the high ceiling.
“No, no, no,” he chanted, dashing ahead through the nearest door and into the rear of the nave. Dozens of birds, set to flight by the gunshot flapped overhead. Over their frightened squawking, Saul heard Reegan speak and followed the beacon of Reegan’s voice to the center aisle. He crept forward, gaze fixed on the man standing over his lover. The small red dot of the laser sight became his sole focus. Crouching low, he used every trick he knew to move quietly. When Reegan’s gaze shifted, and Saul knew he’d been spotted, he pounced.
The second guy went down easier than the first, with one punch to the jaw. Saul swept the gun from his hand. “You okay? Reegan, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Reegan swayed in place. “I haven’t had a chance to send the recall signal to the portal. I think Silvia’s already in the sacristy, unconscious.”
Noise in the narthex interrupted what Saul had meant to say. Pigtail, back for more fun and games. That was Saul’s fault for not slowing him down more. “How long do you need?”
“Minutes. Just need to activate the recall sequence and wait for the collider to be ready. Four, maybe.”
Doable. And Saul had a gun now. That would even the odds. “Okay. I can give you that. Can you make it on your own?”
Reegan nodded, and Saul turned away.
“Wait.”
He couldn’t. If he did, he might be able to let go. “No time.” He indulged himself with one more kiss, the barest brush of lips. Any more would cripple him. “Get home safe. Do that for me, okay?”
He took off up the aisle at a stumbling jog, the best speed he could manage at this juncture, abandoning all efforts at stealth. Pigtail couldn’t have missed his approach, a key point Saul counted on. He needed the man’s attention on him and off Reegan.
They met at the threshold to the nave. Bloody and snarling, Pigtail surged toward him. Saul ducked and rolled away, an instinctive maneuver that had his stomach rebelling the moment he regained his feet. Vision wavering, he retreated deeper. He couldn’t pass out now. In a few minutes, yes. But not now. Reegan needed him. Saul girded himself and lifted a hand, beckoning Pigtail with two shaking fingers. “What are you waiting for?”
The man answered with a howl and sprang. Again, Saul dodged the attack, slipping sideways, farther into the narthex. Farther away from Reegan and Silvia. He snorted laughter as the man picked himself up off the floor. “That the best you got?”
Wiping a hand across his mouth, the guy straightened and reached inside his jacket pocket. “Nope.” He spat a wad of blood on the floor and grinned at Saul with red-stained lips. “I’ve got my best right here.”
Saul didn’t wait for the gun to clear his pocket. The weapon he’d taken off the first goon felt heavy and warm where he’d tucked it against the small of his back, but he opted for something less deadly. He shifted his weight to his back foot, kicked with his front, and the guy’s head flew backward. Blood splattered as he fell heavily to the floor. The gun clattered away under a pile of rotting lumber.
Saul came to stand over him, listing under a wave of dizziness. “We done here?”
Weak, wheezing laughter met his question. “Sure. I figure the boss has dealt with your boy by now.”
Icy dread locked every muscle in Saul’s body. “What are you talking about?” But he already knew. Again he’d been one step behind instead of one step ahead. And he’d sent Reegan into an ambush. He stumbled away, that gurgling, amused laugh following him as he entered the nave and rushed down the aisle. He dodged obstacles with careless abandon, and by some miracle reached the steps to the altar without falling.
A figure appeared out of the darkness, stepping to the pulpit to stare down at Saul. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”
No need to ask who this guy was. He carried himself differently than the others. Blatant self-importance radiated from his posture and voice. Saul clenched his fists. “What have you done with them?”
As though Saul were a troublesome gnat, D’arco waved him away. “You have four minutes. Enough time to clear the building. Go now. I don’t have any reason to harm you.”
“Why not?”
“You’ve done nothing to me personally.”
While Saul hadn’t expected a trivial answer, the sheer coldness of the one he heard stunned him. This was the facet of Silvia’s husband that made him an effective political weapon. The ability to reason, even when lost in the depth of his own agenda.
“Where’s Reegan?”
D’arco lifted his hand, and Saul’s breath caught when he saw Reegan’s bracelet dangling from his fingers. D’arco peered at the display. “Three minutes, forty-five seconds.”
The man expected him to turn and run. Wanted him to, in fact. Why? Unless…killing Saul risked a paradox. For the first time that day, he realized just how fully he had the upper hand. “I’m not leaving.”
Alarm flickered across D’arco’s face. “You have a death wish?”
He supposed he did. It wasn’t exactly breaking news. He stepped onto the first riser. Hissing, D’arco lifted the hand he’d kept hidden behind the altar and waved a gun at Saul. “Leave!”
Feeling more empowered than he h
ad in months, Saul climbed the next riser. If this was his day to die, then so be it. If it wasn’t, he’d push until D’arco couldn’t help but pull the trigger. What happened when he tried was the variable that would decide everyone’s fate. Maybe Saul was nobody. Expendable. But perhaps his life had more meaning than that. Perhaps he had a mission.
Time to find out.
“Three minutes, thirty seconds?” he guessed when D’arco threw a nervous glance at the bracelet. Less than ten feet separated them. Stalling any further was out of the question. Saul dispensed with any verbal warning, the words would be wasted anyway, and started up the last two risers to the pulpit.
D’arco’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and Saul saw his finger twitch on the trigger.
He sucked in a breath, bracing himself for the bullet’s impact.
A sharp crack rang through the church. Gray dust rained down. D’arco had enough time to tilt his head back and scream out a denial before the tall statue hovering above the altar broke away from the ceiling and crashed onto him. It spun as it fell, giving Saul a split second view of the statue’s face before it disintegrated. The Virgin Mary, hands outstretched in supplication.
Looked like Saul had a purpose on this earth after all.
He threw himself sideways on impact, but was on his feet, crawling over the pile of crumbled stone before the dust had begun to settle. The statue hadn’t been big enough to bury D’arco completely, and after a few seconds of digging, Saul was able to yank his lifeless hand free and pry Reegan’s bio bracelet from his fingers. Miraculously, it was intact.
Two minutes, forty-five seconds.
Coughing, Saul stumbled around D’arco’s body to the sacristy door. “Reegan!”
He saw the bomb first and judged its size and strength in a handful of heartbeats. If he could clear the nave before it blew, he’d have a chance. Clearing the church altogether would be a safer gamble.
His gaze found Reegan and Silvia next, laid out side by side on the floor a dozen feet away.
Heart in his throat, he stumbled over, dropping to his knees at Reegan’s side. “No. Please, no.” He stretched out a shaking hand. The shallow rise and fall of Reegan’s chest greeted his touch. “Thank God.” He pressed his forehead to Reegan’s while he fought back grateful tears. “Come on. Wake up. You’ve got somewhere you need to be, remember?”
A light smack to his face produced no response. Saul checked the bio bracelet. One minute, forty-five seconds. “Reegan!” A harder shake. A harder slap. Still no response. Panic crept in.
He scooted around Reegan to Silvia’s side. “Silvia! Come on, honey. Wake up. I need you.”
His voice drew a twitch. Her fingers clenched, then went slack. Saul threw a glance at the bomb, then again to Reegan’s bracelet. Synced exactly, they continued to count down, oblivious to Saul’s growing desperation. One minute, fifteen seconds.
He raised his face to the ceiling, praying for inspiration. It seemed a fitting place to do so. What he hadn’t expected was a clear and uncomplicated answer to ring through, as though God himself had offered the solution.
So simple.
His fear fell away. Lowering Silvia’s head to the floor, he shifted to sit between them, and brushed unsteady fingers over Reegan’s face. “Okay.” He took up Reegan’s hand. Joined their fingers. Pressed their palms together. “Okay, babe. Time for you to go home. It’s going to be fine. It’s all going to be fine. I’m here, and I’m going to keep you safe.”
His words fell on deaf ears, but they helped anyway, brushing away the last of what he needed to say, to anyone.
Thirty seconds.
Saul turned the bio bracelet so that his finger was poised over the button that opened the portal. He took a deep breath, fixed his gaze on Reegan’s face…and pushed it.
Chapter Twenty-One
The disorientation lasted a span of ten rapid heartbeats. Saul knew because he counted them. Through the slow sinking sensation, to the terrifying certainty he was falling, to the gentle coasting stop that eased his stomach from his throat back to where it belonged. Ten heartbeats. Maybe three seconds.
Utter silence and darkness followed the cessation of movement, then his senses kicked in one at a time. He noticed his own breathing first—the rapid, panicked gasping he’d been battling moments before he pressed the button on Reegan’s bracelet. A cold breeze, chilly enough to raise goose bumps on his skin, brushed his face. It tasted metallic, as though blood lingered in the air. Close by, someone else breathed. Not the clipped and frenzied inhalations he battled. These were deep and calm.
Reegan. And possibly, if his ears weren’t betraying him, Silvia. Unconscious but alive.
He’d succeeded. Activated Reegan’s time portal. The church’s stone tile floor had been bumpy. Gritty with dirt. Now, the surface under his cheek was smooth. Glasslike and cool.
Despite the evidence, he stayed curled into a ball, counting out seconds. Ten. Thirty. Sixty. Ninety. D’arco’s bomb would’ve gone off by now. Either they truly had escaped into the future or the detonator had failed.
Or they were all dead, and all his questions regarding the afterlife were about to be answered.
A soft, barely discernible glow appeared around him. A halo of rectangular lights. He blinked, uncurling when the added illumination brought the crumpled figure next to him into focus.
“Reegan.” Saul scooted the few feet to Reegan’s prone figure. He was breathing, but blood trickled down the side of his face unchecked, stained the small bandage on his cheek, and welled over the edges of a nasty gash on his arm. Saul huffed a laugh, choking on it, and set two trembling fingers against Reegan’s lips. “You’re a mess.”
Reegan stirred, the movement nothing more than a twitch, but it satisfied Saul. He raised his head, searching for Silvia.
The rectangular lights were panels. He could see that now. They came to life in increments, revealing the room bit by bit until there was no mistaking its alien-like feel. They’d definitely left St. Brendan’s. “Reegan?” Saul whispered.
Silvia, sprawled on Reegan’s other side, stirred. Saul pushed onto his elbows, reaching a hand over Reegan’s supine form when her eyes flew open and she cried out. “It’s okay. We’re back. I think.”
She blinked at the ceiling, swallowing. “What happened? I don’t remember.”
Probably for the best. Before he could draft an answer, a door swished open on the far wall. Saul tensed, ready to fight.
A large man filled the doorway, shiny bald head reflecting the artificial light shining from the walls. He stepped inside, and sound followed him, a low drone that fell in pitch every moment, as though they all stood inside a giant dying engine.
A limp cigar dangled from the man’s lips, but that didn’t hold Saul’s interest as much as the gun he held. Saul assumed it was a gun, although it didn’t resemble any he knew. The man held it like a weapon, pointed in front of him, barrel-first. His other hand held a red-stained cloth to the corner of his mouth. “Reegan?” he barked.
“He’s here.” Saul pointed. Reegan still had yet to move.
The man stepped forward, squinting. “So he is. Is he okay? Wait.” He swung the gun round to Saul. “Who the hell are you?”
Reegan hadn’t covered this part of the plan with Saul. Ostensibly because it wasn’t supposed to occur. “I’m Saul. Saul Kildare.”
“No shit.” The man dropped the gun. It dangled at his side. “The hunky P.I.?”
“Um. Yes?”
The man doubled over with a surprised laugh. His hand fell away from his swollen, bloody lip. “I thought for sure D’arco’s apes would take you out. They broke into my office the second Reegan jaunted. Checked my computer and realized who he was going to see.”
“Reegan wondered how they’d found him. He thought they might have hurt you to get the information.”
“Not as much as I’m gonna hurt them when they get back.”
Silvia stirred again, and Saul scooted around Reegan to
help her. They pulled each other into a sitting position. Saul cupped her face in his palm. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice wavered. “Emilio found us. Cammie…is she okay?”
Saul shushed her. “She’s alive. She’ll be all right.”
“What happened? How did we get back? Is Victor here?”
“What do you remember?” It wasn’t a comfortable question. He wasn’t sure he could stand a recounting of how Cammie had been hurt.
“Hardly anything. I’m sorry. It was all so sudden. I woke up when they burst in. I heard Cammie yelling. And then Emilio hit me.” Gingerly, she touched the bloody cut on her scalp.
She had no idea her husband was dead. Despite everything that had happened, she’d admitted to loving him. Conflicted about how to break the news, Saul hesitated.
The other man, it could only be Maxie—he fit Reegan’s description perfectly—lumbered over, squatting to shake Reegan’s shoulder. “We need to get him up and out of here. The portal’s going to activate in two minutes.”
“Where’s Victor?” Silvia wobbled to her feet while Maxie lifted Reegan under the arms and dragged him toward the door.
Despite the rush, Maxie handled him gently, supporting his head against his ample belly. “He’ll be coming through next with his three trolls. I owe him a little something.”
A punch to the face was Saul’s guess. He pulled to his feet, following. Time to ‘fess up. “He won’t be coming back through.”
Maxie paused on the threshold, Reegan limp in his arms. “Excuse me?”
Saul glanced at Silvia’s pale face. “He won’t be coming back. Him or his men. They’re dead, and the building where we came from…” He wavered, uncertain. “The other side of the portal? It’s gone. Destroyed.”
Gaze vehement, Maxie gnawed his cigar. “You sure?”