Losing Time (Lost Time, Book 1): A Time Travel Romantic Suspense Series

by Nicola Claire

  Jesus, Fawkes muttered, shaking his head. You dream of her?

  And suddenly, I wished the screen was blank. Harding and Malcolm turned to look down at me, equal looks of dread and shock on their faces. It was Harding who reached for the volume switch, turning it up so loud the speakers crackled, making me flinch.

  “The morning of the flight,” Evans said softly, but whatever external microphones the MPCV had were pretty effing good.

  “Ah, shit, Jack,” Fawkes muttered. “And if we take her back to her time?”

  Evans shook his head. “I don’t know. The dream wasn’t…specific like that.”

  “Then what did you see?”

  Evans turned away and stared out over a sugarcane field. His right hand tapped impatiently against his upper thigh. His shoulders were rigid.

  “I can’t let you take her, Bryan,” he said eventually. Fawkes, for his part, just rubbed the back of his neck, then clasped both hands behind his nape and stared up at the brightening sky.

  Clearly, we were still in Florida, going on the field of sugar before us. But time had changed. Whether that was Time with a capital T or not, I wasn’t sure. The MPCV had been moving along dimensional planes, so anything was possible.

  And reading the multitude of numbers and sine waves and mess of information on the screens in here was beyond me. I was feeling a little tired all of a sudden.

  “Crap,” I muttered, slumping back against my seat. “Not now.” I pleaded with my upper hypothalamus for a reprieve.

  “If you take her back to base, Crawford will ground you,” Fawkes was saying.

  “I’m aware of Clive’s penchant for rules, Bryan. I made most of them with him.”

  “If you take her anywhere, he’ll put a tag on your file.”

  “I know.”

  “The only possible solution is to return with her to her time.”

  “A possibility. But that would hardly locate her sister.”

  “Her what now?” Fawkes had gone deathly still. Like statue still. His face set in hard planes. His blue eyes narrowed.

  “What sister?” Malcolm asked, staring across the module at me.

  “God, please don’t tell us there’s two of you,” Harding spat.

  “Shhh,” I said, trying to listen to the screen.

  “Shh yourself, interloper,” Harding snapped. “I’m in command here, not you.”

  “Sorry, Sergeant Snotty,” I said with a sickly sweet smile. “But you’re not the boss of me.”

  Yeah, that was mature. Carrie would have been proud.

  “I’m a fully qualified Intern,” she growled. “You are nothing but a relic of a previous history.”

  I blinked at her. “Relic?”

  She sneered back. “You are neither RATS approved nor trained. Ergo you are not in any position to make demands. I’m the Intern. Malcolm here is the Novitiate. And as soon as Dr Fawkes returns, he’s our Surgeon. You.” She sneered again. She liked doing that. “You are out of time.”

  “What’s with you freaks and people being out of time? You’d think it was contagious or something.”

  “Well,” Malcolm started, just as the door to the Orion opened.

  Damn it! We’d missed the last part of Fawkes’ and Evans’ conversation. I braced myself for the good Dr Fawkes and his own special brand of humour, only to come face to face with Jack Evans himself.

  “Dr Evans,” Malcolm said, standing. “Doctor,” Harding added but remained immobile after.

  Jack nodded his head towards them in greeting, but his eyes soon landed back on me.

  “You’ve been hurt,” he said softly. That gentle tone immediately reaching me.

  “Just bruised,” I replied, rubbing at my elbow and where the cabinet had banged into me. Yeah, like that made any sense at all, but when the module was upside, and inside out, it had sure felt like the thing was attacking me.

  Pretty much like Harding really.

  I flicked a glance towards her, but couldn’t avoid the pull to stare at Evans for long.

  “You’re with me, Miss Wylde,” he announced, almost as if he’d snapped out of something. He stood taller. Looked broader of shoulder. Seemed to take up more space suddenly.

  “You’re taking her?” Harding demanded.

  “She is in my care, Dr Harding,” Evans bothered to reply.

  “She’s out of time, sir,” Harding argued.

  Evans stopped moving toward me and just stared at the woman.

  “Quiet, Jess,” Fawkes said from behind Jack’s shoulder. “This is complicated.”

  “What is complicated?” Harding demanded, standing up to her full height, which was surprisingly quite impressive. She must have been close to six feet tall. I hadn’t noticed. Her ego had overshadowed everything else about her until that second.

  “What could possibly be more complicated than a contemporary out of time?” she demanded. “The rules state…”

  “I know exactly what the rules state, Doctor,” Evans snapped. “And I’d thank you to remember your place. You are still an Intern, are you not?”

  Harding looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.

  “Yes, sir,” she eventually offered.

  “Good. Then you’ll allow your Surgeon to guide you in this matter.”

  Harding looked toward Fawkes. He wore the glare quite well, considering.

  “She’s with him,” Fawkes said, backing Evans up on the matter. “For now, anyway,” he added, ruining the united front he’d had going.

  “Gee,” I said. “It’s almost like I’m a possession. Don’t I get a say?”

  Evans swung his glowering face back towards me. It didn’t soften in the slightest. I swallowed thickly.

  “Take your pick, Miss Wylde,” he said, voice low and threatening. “Me or Dr Harding? Which is it?”

  Well, when he put it like that. I nodded and took a step toward his side.

  “Thought you might choose wisely,” Evans muttered.

  Then slipped his hand into mine and tugged me outside.

  The motion, fingers laced, had felt so normal to me that I hadn’t thought anything of it. Until I heard Fawkes mutter, “Goddamnit, Jack. At least try to deny it.”

  Evans dropped my hand as though it had scolded him. And suddenly I felt as cold as ice.

  We both turned slowly to look at Orion Two, thankful that it was only Fawkes who stood in the door and watched us.

  And then I remembered the screens were still on inside the module. I let a slow breath of air out and waved. I might have flipped Harding the bird at the last minute, can’t be sure. I was distracted by Fawkes laughing.

  “You’ll deal with the stitch?” Evans was asking.

  “On it,” Fawkes replied. “Always cleaning up after your ass, Jacko.”

  “Much appreciated, Bryan.”

  Fawkes chuckled, then let his eyes land on me.

  “Sort this out, Jack. Sort it out, or Crawford will sort it out for you. And you won’t much like his method or style.”

  “I’m well aware of Clive’s proclivities, Dr Fawkes.”

  Fawkes shook his head and started to turn back into his own module.

  “Not when you’re flying blind,” he muttered, and then the MPCV winked out of sight.

  Silence stretched for a long moment. If our Orion was near, it was still hiding. On a different plane. A different combination of dimensions. Whatever. It boggled the mind. But more pressing matters held my attention.

  “What does he mean ‘flying blind’?” I asked.

  “Never you mind, Miss Wylde.”

  “Oh, but I do, Doctor.”

  He smiled to himself, half watching me behind shadowed eyes.

  “You are more trouble than you’re worth, you know,” he murmured.

  “Oh, don’t you start. I’ve already had the shakedown by Harding. That woman didn’t pull any punches.”

  “Jessica Harding is a very skilled Intern. She wouldn’t have lied.”

  “But you will? Is
that how it works? Make Surgeon, and you not only mend Time, but you can lie about it? Where’s my sister?” I demanded. “Who is Sergei?”

  Evans stared at me for a long moment and then tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. Once.

  The MPCV blinked into sight.

  “Fuck me!” I squeaked, staring at the imposing structure.

  “You are no mouse,” Evans murmured, walking past me and up the ladder.

  “And you, Doctor, didn’t answer my question,” I muttered, following behind.

  I was beginning to see that was his style. Harding blustered. Fawkes joked. Hoffman smiled. But Jack Evans evaded.

  Just what the effing hell was he hiding?

  Well, Two Could Play That Game

  Jack

  She was too clever for her own good. Distracting her worked. Dodging her didn’t. Mimi Wylde needed something else to focus on. Otherwise, she was like a dog with a bone.

  Or a scientist with a hypothesis to prove.

  “We could retrace our steps,” Groves was offering. “Try to pick up a shadow to follow.”

  “Orion Two will be back there,” Rafe said. “Crossing paths with Harding right now wouldn’t be wise.”

  “I’m sure Dr Fawkes has her in hand,” Groves argued.

  “As in hand as a snake charmer and his rattler.”

  “She can’t be that bad,” Groves offered.

  “Sally, she’s a fucking viper.”

  “That’s enough,” I murmured, searching sinusoids in an effort to locate Sergei. I’d told Mimi I was watching the rip, making sure Bryan stitched it correctly.

  I was certain she’d seen right through me.

  “Rafe,” the woman in question asked now from behind me. I refused to turn around and stare. I’d thought she was dosing, subject to time travel stupor. The fact that she’d been awake and watching made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I worked hard not to rub there.

  “Yeah, Mouse?” Hoffman replied. I did look at him, then. He purposefully ignored me.

  “What is Sergei trying to do exactly?”

  I’d laid the ground rules. I’d made it perfectly clear that Sergei should not be discussed with our passenger. I tilted my head and held Rafe’s stare.

  “What any plonker with a module is wont to do, kid,” Rafe muttered. “Change Time for profit.”

  “So he’s wanting to sabotage Orion, making Lunik the only way to time travel?”

  “Pretty much,” Rafe said, raising his eyebrows at me when I started to growl.

  “Thanks, Rafe,” Mimi said pleasantly. “At least someone here isn’t lying.”

  “And how can you be so sure of that, Miss Wylde?” I asked, turning to face her at last.

  Not a hardship. But I fought the urge, all the same.

  “Dr Hoffman has no reason to lie to me,” she pointed out. “I didn’t appear in his dream.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake!

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I ground out.

  “Then enlighten me?”

  “Not in this lifetime, Miss Wylde.”

  “Then I’ll find out the answers on my own.”

  “Try.”

  “Oh, watch me.”

  How could I not? She was on fire.

  “Sally,” Mimi asked then.

  “Oh, no you don’t, Mouse,” Groves rushed to say. “I’m a Novitiate. Dr Evans only has to scowl in my direction to get me fired.”

  “I’m not that bad, Miss Groves,” I muttered.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Groves said quietly. “But you are a little frightening.”

  Rafe snorted. Mimi just smiled.

  “And why is it I can’t scare you, Miss Wylde?” I asked.

  “I don’t care if I get fired,” she said with a smile.

  More’s the pity. Maybe I should threaten her with something else.

  Spanking?

  I cleared my throat and returned my attention to the sinusoids. Nothing. Not so much as a peep out of Sergei. What the bloody hell was he up to?

  “We’re going to need some down time soon, Jack,” Rafe murmured. “Maybe some food and rest will make things clearer.”

  “Do you guys sleep in here too?” Mimi asked. “Or do you drop out of a dimension onto a plane for a while?”

  “Hey, you’re getting pretty good at the lingo,” Rafe said, amusement coating each word. “But nah, we just take turns sleeping, while someone flies.”

  “Why?”

  I turned back to look at her. It fascinated me how her mind worked sometimes.

  “Why not pick a time and just use it. Grab some fresh air while you’re at it.”

  “It does stink in here,” Groves muttered.

  “Sorry. The nausea,” Mimi supplied.

  “Oh, no!” Groves rushed to say. “Boy stink. Not, well, you know, that.”

  Mimi burst out laughing. It was mesmerising.

  “Yeah, boy stink has a distinctive note,” she said between laughter.

  I realised Rafe was watching me. Again. I turned my gaze reluctantly away from Miss Wylde and met his eyes. I could see the question there. The same one Fawkes had asked me when I’d admitted to dreaming about Mimi Wylde.

  There was no bloody way I’d tell either of them what had transpired in that dreamscape. Not a bloody fucking chance.

  Rafe smirked. Maybe I didn’t have to say a word for either of those two to work it out.

  “Perhaps we should drop out of space,” I said suddenly. “If we can’t pick anything up whilst surfing the waves, then maybe we will if we’re more stationary.”

  “Good point,” Rafe agreed. “How about somewhere warm, secluded, and with a beach.”

  Groves perked up. I just offered a jaded smile.

  But it was Mimi who said, “Why not somewhere further back in time where Abe Silverstein will be?”

  I have no idea why this woman was picked up by our Orion. Why her sister was picked up by a Lunik. I couldn’t work out what was different about these two females that would cause such an event to occur. Granted it was an Origin Event, and almost anything is possible with them. But why her? Why her sister? Why now?

  One thing I did know, though, was that Mimi Wylde was highly intelligent. She’d not only adjusted to time travel in lightning fast speed, but she’d also started thinking like a Surgeon while she was at it. It didn’t fail to register how much of an addition she would make to the RATS team. How easily she would fit in back at the Academy.

  “Valid point, Miss Wylde,” I said slowly, watching her preen under my praise and desperately wanting to offer her more. “Perhaps when he started working on Gemini?”

  “Yes,” she said enthusiastically. “The early sixties. Mercury led to Gemini which led to Apollo. Which clearly led this Sergei dude to Orion.”

  Time to distract.

  “We’ll make a RATS Surgeon of you yet, Miss Wylde.”

  Hook, line and sinker.

  “What does RATS actually mean?” she immediately asked. I smiled to myself, turned back to my screens and started entering coordinates, as Groves and Hoffman picked up the slack and ran with it.

  We made a well-oiled machine.

  “Royal Academy of Time Surgeons,” Rafe was saying. “We’re the good guys!”

  “And Sergei?” the damn woman asked. Dog with a bloody fucking bone. “Where does he hail from? The former Union of Soviet Socialist Republics Academy of Time Travel?”

  Too bloody intelligent by far.

  “Got it!” I said, interrupting further discussion. I’d never declared “got it” before in my life. Rafe hid a smile. Groves blatantly stared at me. “The coordinates, Miss Groves,” I said, handing them to her. “Perhaps you’ll do the honours and check them for me.”

  “Of course, sir. But shouldn’t Dr Hoffman be the one?”

  “Oh, he can watch over your shoulder. It’s time we made an Intern of you.”

  “Oh,” Groves said, smiling uncertainly.

  “Why don’t you show
Miss Wylde how it’s done,” I suggested.

  “OK,” Groves said, as Mimi muttered, “Coward,” under her breath.

  I stared at her. She held my gaze resolutely. This woman was going to be the death of me.

  “Can’t you just leave it?” I asked. God alone knows why that spilt out. She frustrated me. That had to be it.

  It had nothing to do with the dream.

  “Can’t you be honest for once?” Mimi threw back in her lightning-fast fashion.

  “You might as well tell her, Jack,” Rafe offered with a shrug of his shoulders. “You’re practically teaching the woman to fly an MPCV.”

  He was right. This was getting out of hand. But she needed to know the consequences. There were many.

  “Check the coordinates with Groves,” I muttered, dismissing my team and turning my attention to Miss Wylde.

  “Well?” she said in challenge. Definitely not mousey.

  I smiled. It might have shown a hint of teeth.

  “You are out of time, Miss Wylde,” I started.

  Only to have the bloody woman fly right at me.

  “Oomph,” was all I managed as all air was knocked from my body. Her fists came down in surprisingly hard pummels, rapidly alternating with each growled word as she belted the living daylights out of me.

  “What…is it…with…you lot…and…me…bloody…effing…being…out of…time!”

  “Oomph,” was all I was momentarily capable of right then, it seemed.

  “I am…sick…and…tired…of being…told…that!”

  I grabbed her wrists and flipped her over, both of us landing hard on the floor of the module. Her harder than me, but then she’d also cushioned my fall splendidly.

  “Oomph,” she muttered in return, making me smile. There was definitely teeth showing.

  “Are you done?” I asked, breathlessly.

  “No!” she snarled back.

  “I was merely pointing out a salient fact,” I growled in return.

  “Get off me!”

  “Not if you plan on hitting me again.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I don’t believe you.”