Final Hours

by Cate Dean

  “Oh,” she gasped, her heart threatening to pound right out of her chest. “God.”

  He let out a laugh. “I’d like to take the credit.”

  She smiled, too exhausted to do more than breathe.

  His ragged breath heated her throat. “Give me one minute.”

  It took much longer than a minute before he started to ease himself out of her. She flinched at the friction, and he stopped, still inside her. “Beth—”

  “It’s okay. I’m just more—sensitive than I thought.”

  “I shouldn’t have—bloody hell, what was I thinking, going at you like that—”

  “Kane.” She touched his cheek. “I practically begged you. And I will gladly trade being a little tender for the way you made me feel. The way you make me feel now.”

  He looked startled, then smiled at her, right before he pulled himself out of her, so slowly she felt every inch. “Like this?”

  She twisted her hands into the sheets, to keep from reaching for him. Heat spiked through her, the power of it as shocking as her need for him. He finally slipped out of her, and sprawled over her and most of the bed.

  “You are a tease, Jackson Kane.”

  His smile had her heart skipping. “Wait until next time. You have not seen me at my best.”

  “That wasn’t… Oh, God—you may kill me off next time.” He looked smug. Elizabeth slid her hand down the arm resting on her stomach, twined their fingers together. “Thank you.”

  He turned his head and winked at her. “It was my pleasure, love.”

  Laughter burst out of her. She had never been comfortable with a man after the sex was over, much less laugh with him while they were both naked. Or be naked together, or talk about having sex again, like it was the most natural conversation to have.

  But what just happened between them wasn’t sex—it was something deeper, more powerful, and what she felt for him before was a shadow of how she felt now. She was in for much more than heartache by the time they said goodbye.

  Despite that, she wanted him again, so much it surprised her. She planned to talk him into it, as soon as she could move without flinching—

  “Kane?” The crackling voice echoed in the attic. A familiar voice. Kane bolted up and lunged for the transport. She sat as Mac’s voice filtered through the roar of static, her heart pounding. “Answer me, damn it—can you hear me?”

  “Mac.” Kane fiddled with the tiny buttons. “Mac—I’m here. Mac—” Static poured out of the speaker. “Hell.” He smacked the screen with his palm. “Come on—”

  “—hear me, Kane?”

  “Mac—I’m here.”

  “Hot damn! Don’t move—wherever you have your transport, keep it there. I’m punching in home coordinates, and our connection is just hanging on—”

  “No.” Kane’s voice was flat, hard. “We have to stay, Mac.”

  There was a crackling silence, then Mac’s angry voice exploded out of the speaker. “What the hell are you saying? We have to get you and Elizabeth back while I can keep the connection open—”

  “Guy changed history.”

  There was a long pause. “Shit.”

  “Oh, it gets better, Mac. I need you to program a date for me. Guy did something to my transport, and it will not let me enter any coordinates. We have been stuck here.”

  Mac cursed again. “Hold on.”

  Elizabeth grabbed the blanket at the end of the bad and draped it over her shoulders, cold without Kane’s body next to her. She also felt awkward, for the first time since she took off her shirt.

  Mac’s voice broke the silence, static distorting it. “How much time do we have?” She could almost picture him, bent over the console, tapping and swiping at the screen.

  “A few hours, maybe. Do we have another agent available?”

  Another long pause. This time Elizabeth knew the answer. “We’re on lockdown.”

  “Because of Guy.”

  “Afraid so. I might be able to—”

  “Dr. Kinimoto sent them off project, didn’t she?”

  A sigh filtered through the static. “Every damn one of them. She didn’t want another Guy flitting around through time. They’re all scheduled for new psych evals. What do you want me to do?”

  “Just program the transport for me.”

  Kane gave him the date, watching her the entire time.

  “Uh, Kane.” Mac finally caught up. “You can’t go back there. It’s the same date you—”

  “I know, Mac. Beth is going.”

  “What?” His anger roared through the speaker. He probably would have punched Kane if they’d been on the same room. “What the hell are you thinking? You can’t—”

  “We don’t have a choice.” Kane rubbed his forehead, ran one hand through his hair, obviously waiting for Mac to stop shouting. “Mac—Mac, please—”

  She held on to the blanket and moved next to him. “Mac—it’s Elizabeth.”

  “Hey, sweetheart. How’s Kane treating you?”

  She blushed, thinking of what they’d just been doing. “He’s keeping me safe. Mac, you have to do it. What Guy did—if we can’t reverse it, history will change dramatically.”

  Static crackled in the silence. “How dramatically?”

  “As in, you won’t recognize the world when you wake up tomorrow.”

  “Double shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  A shout of laughter had her smiling. “I’ll see what I can do on this end. Kane—take off your transport if you’re wearing it. There may be some—sparks. Guy really did a number on it.” There was a crackling silence, then Mac spoke again, his voice low. “I have to tell you—I’m not surprised. Harper is spreading his slimy presence.” A gasp escaped before Elizabeth could stop it. Kane’s hand shot out, grabbed her wrist. “I think he’s the reason Guy went rogue.”

  He stilled, his fingers shaking against her wrist. “You are certain of this?”

  “About ninety-nine percent. I’m sorry, Kane. But I wanted you to know what you’re up against. Stay close—I’m signing off for now.”

  Kane let her go and set the transport back on the trunk, every movement deliberate.

  The low hum of static told Elizabeth the line was still open. She scooted across the bed. He followed her.

  “What did Harper do to you.” His deadly quiet voice sent a thrill of fear up her spine. Elizabeth had never been afraid of Kane. Pretty much every other emotion, but he never gave her a reason to be afraid.

  “It was nothing—”

  “You went ghost white, Elizabeth.” He cupped her chin. “Please tell me.”

  She did, shivering. When she got to the kiss, Kane gripped her shoulders.

  “Did he harm you?”

  “No. No. Mac broke in, right after I stomped on his foot.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You stomped on his foot.”

  “He violated my personal space. I lost my temper.” She stared at his chest. “He scared the hell out of me, Kane. I haven’t been that scared since I was seventeen. The difference is I didn’t freeze this time. His thin designer leather never stood a chance.”

  She tried for a smile, failed miserably.

  “Beth.” He swallowed, closed his eyes. “I am sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare apologize when you weren’t even there.”

  She let go of the blanket and kissed him, both hands cradling his face. He pulled her in, his skin warm, familiar. It comforted her, made her feel safe.

  “Kane.” Mac’s voice crackled out of the transport. Kane reached out, grabbed the transport off the trunk.

  “I’m here, Mac.”

  “Is Elizabeth with you?”

  “Yes. Mac. I’m right here. What is it?”

  Static hummed, stretched out, and Mac finally answered. “The portal finally reported the—disturbance. It was earlier than you guesstimated.”

  Kane tightened his arm around her waist. “How much earlier?” A string of curses cut throu
gh the static. “Mac.”

  “You have an hour before what Guy did becomes irreversible.”

  Thirteen

  Elizabeth took the news with remarkable calm. Kane wanted to punch something.

  She thanked Mac and eased the transport out of Kane’s hand. His mind refused to accept that he could not fix this. It was what he did, what Dr. Kinimoto brought him into the project to do. Make certain the past was kept safe.

  He had utterly failed. Now an innocent had to risk her life because of his mistake.

  “Kane.” Elizabeth’s quiet voice caressed him. He swallowed and took the coward’s path, by keeping his gaze on the far wall. “Stop beating yourself up, and tell me how to use your pistol.”

  That snapped his head around. She sat next to him, those dark blue eyes steady, her face composed. Damn it, he couldn’t let her do this, not alone.

  “Beth—”

  “No.” She closed one hand over his wrist. Her touch sent a flare of heat through him, the same heat he felt every time he looked at her now. She smiled, as if she knew what he was thinking. “This is not your fault. Now, please show me. We’re running out of time.”

  He slipped into his trousers, picked his shirt off the floor and eased it on, his right arm still stiff. He felt less vulnerable with his scars covered. Elizabeth moved off the bed and gathered up her clothes, dressing so fast all he saw was flashes of skin. Need gripped him when she sat beside him. She smelled of soft lavender and sex. Silky blonde hair cloaked her, tangled from their lovemaking. Her lips were soft, swollen, and he ached to take them again. To feel her move against him again.

  He let out a sigh, and reached under the bed with his left hand to retrieve the slim holster.

  “Take the pistol, Beth.” He watched her hesitate. “If you can’t be touching the weapon, there is no way in hell you’ll be able to use it when you have to.” She closed her hands around the holster. “Now pull the pistol out.” He waited until she had it in her hand before he reached over, closed her fingers over the grip and pointed the barrel at the floor. “Never aim unless you intend to use it.”

  “Okay.”

  “This is a laser pistol. It has a hair trigger, and needs very little charge up time, but you have to push this button,” he tapped the tiny button above the trigger, “right before you shoot. Now do it.”

  “What?” She stared at him, her hand shaking on the pistol.

  “Push the button, aim at something, and fire.”

  “I—” Her gaze skated around the attic. Kane hated himself for what he was about to do, but they had no time.

  “Shoot something, Elizabeth. Now.”

  She jumped as he barked out the last word. Her fingers fumbled on the pistol, but she managed to push the button, and aimed the pistol. A thin stream of cold fire split the air, burned a perfect circle in the corner of the blanket draped over a dress dummy.

  “We need to replace that,” she whispered. “They don’t have anything to spare, not with—”

  “I will see that Bridget is compensated.”

  She stared at the pistol. “Okay.”

  “Beth.” He kept his voice gentle. “I need to know you can protect yourself. Guy will not give any quarter.”

  With a deep breath, she finally looked up at him. “I figured as much.” She picked up the transport, buckled it around her wrist. Even using the last hole in the strap, it still swallowed her wrist. Her tiny, delicate wrist. “Stop that.” He blinked at her. “You’re looking at me like I’m a fragile, helpless little girl.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Oh, yes, you were. Let me share a little something with you, then I’ll go.” She stood, that glorious mass of blonde hair falling to her waist. “I lost my parents when I was ten. I went into the foster system, and I never got out.” Kane flinched, more than aware of the real meaning behind her words. “If I have to shoot Guy to save Admiral Ramsay, or anyone important he decides he wants dead, I’ll do it, without hesitating.”

  “Beth, there is no need—”

  “Shut up and let me finish.” He did, and fought the smile that threatened. She was a constant, delightful surprise, showing sides of herself he never expected. “I started having panic attacks because one of my foster parents beat me, then locked me in a basement closet. The first time I panicked, it completely freaked him out, and he left me alone. So, they became my defense mechanism. Then I lost control over them when the reason to defend myself was removed.”

  “But you found a way.”

  A smile touched her lips. “When I had one in front of an influential benefactor, one who really cared about foster kids, and wasn’t just donating for the tax write off, she sent me to a friend. A psychologist. I was seventeen. It took three years and a whole lot of screaming to get me through, but she did. She helped me devise a system to defuse the attacks before they happened. She gave me control; something I hadn’t had in my life for a long time.” She stared down at the pistol. “When I discovered you were an orphan, I understood why you could jump in so fast when I started to panic. You knew—”

  “What was happening. Yes, Beth, I did. And I must say, I was, and am, impressed by your system. It seems to work with any number of emotional situations.”

  “Picked up on that, did you?” With the pistol pointed at the floor, she moved over to her jacket, slipped the pistol in her pocket and pulled it on. “I figured you didn’t want me sporting the holster.”

  Kane stood, taking her hands. She was so small, and stronger than he imagined. It still made him feel like a failure, sending her in his place. He led her to the peak of the roof, so he could stand upright without danger of concussion. “The portal will drop you as close to the event as possible, without you being seen.”

  “So, inside Dover Castle.” She let out a shaky breath. “It better, because there is no way I’m simply walking in through the front gates. I’m going to have a hard enough time convincing anyone to let me near the Admiral.”

  “I need to talk to Mac one more time before you go.” He cradled her wrist, touched the comm button on the transport. “Mac—it’s Kane.”

  Static burst out of the speaker, then settled. “Here, Kane. Is Elizabeth getting ready to go?”

  “She is more than ready.” His wink startled a smile out of her. “I have one favor to ask.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I want you to see if you can bypass the portal’s directive and send me back to help her.”

  “Right. Because that will be easy to do.” Even distance and static could not mask his sarcasm.

  “If anyone can do it, Mac.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Stop, Kane—I’ll give it my best shot. Hey, Elizabeth.”

  “Hey, Mac.”

  “All you have to do is push the little red button, and you’ll be off. I tried to make the landing as easy as possible.”

  She smiled, but her fingers shook as she touched the screen. “Thank you, Mac. For everything.”

  Kane leaned in. “Mark these coordinates, and do what you can.”

  “If it means not leaving Elizabeth alone to face that murdering traitor, I’m on it. Signing off.”

  Elizabeth looked at him, and he finally saw the panic he expected. “Kane—”

  “If anyone can find a way to get me there, it is Mac. But don’t depend on me showing up. Go in there, warn Ramsay, make him believe. I know you can do it, love.”

  He caught her around the waist and she met him halfway, her lips warm and soft on his. God help him, she could kiss. He should have known after that first mind numbing kiss that she would be just as uninhibited in her lovemaking.

  With regret, and a thought in the back of his mind that it may be their last, he ended the kiss, and pulled away.

  “Ready?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  He smiled, and stepped back. Out of reach.

  “Push the button, Beth. There is a built in countdown; it will activate as soon as you arrive. I’ll come to you if I can.”

>   “I know.”

  “Do me one favor.”

  She met his eyes, almost successful at concealing her fear. “If I can.”

  “Come back to me.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Kane—”

  “Go now, Beth, before I stop you.”

  She nodded, the tears sliding down her cheeks. Kane backed out of range, hunched over to avoid the sloping roof. She kept her gaze on him, glanced down only long enough to find the red button.

  “Wait.” She took a step forward, stopped herself. “In case I don’t get another chance, I want you to know—I’m falling for you, Jackson Kane. Falling hard.”

  Before he could get past the shock, she pushed the button. The portal opened behind her, yanked her in, and folded in on itself, until there was nothing.

  Kane made his way to the bed and sat. He finally allowed himself to feel every ache—including the new one Beth just gave him. How was he supposed to deal with that, when he just sent the woman he was half in love with into a situation that could very likely get her killed?

  He hated himself all over again at just the thought. She was out of his reach now, on her own.

  He closed his eyes and prayed that Mac would come through for him. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

  Fourteen

  Elizabeth stumbled when the portal let her go. She fell to her knees and landed on rock strewn dirt. Her knee managed to find one of those rocks.

  “Ouch—” She bit back a curse, crawled over to the nearest wall, and leaned against it. Contrary to what she’d been told, this did not get easier. She still wanted to curl in a ball, throw up, and wish she was unconscious. Instead she leaned her head against the cold stone, moved her arm up until she could see the transport. She didn’t trust the result if she lowered her head.

  A clock was at the top of the small screen, counting backward. She had fifty minutes.

  With a groan, she levered herself up, held on to the rough stone and mortar wall until her head stopped spinning. Once she could see clearly enough to recognize objects, she checked her surroundings.

  She stood in between two stone buildings. The one she held on to looked like a small house, the square of ground in front of it probably once a front yard. She faced the other building—and realized where she had landed. Right behind the 19th century gunpowder magazine, the long brick building set into a hill. She was just on the other side of the access road that led to the tunnel entrance.