by Barbara Taub
“You do too.” Her voice shook as her fingers tried unsuccessfully to make it through his jacket, vest, and shirt. Breathing hard, Gaby took a step back. “Wait … supposed to remember…” She shook her head. “Dinner reservations at La Fontaine.”
Luic moaned.
She held up a hand. “Oh, and that’s it—protection. I wonder if they even had condoms in the 1890s?”
Luic pulled her back against him, buried his face in her hair, and groaned. He carefully put his arms around her and kissed her face—eyelids, cheeks, under her chin, neck, and back to her mouth—and all the while he promised her, “Soon, very soon Gaby-mine, I’m going to have you in a bedroom, and there won’t be any children, and I won’t be drunk, and you won’t have to save the world, and we won’t have dinner reservations, and most of all, I will have a damn condom. Dozens of them.”
They barely made their dinner reservation at La Fontaine because Luic insisted on stopping at a store recommended by the helpful desk clerk at the hotel. As Michel, the Maître d’hôtel, showed them to their table, Gaby clutched Luic’s arm. What am I doing here? Her harmonia senses struggled with a world where nothing balanced. Watching Luic, she remembered Connor telling her, “Something doesn’t fit perfectly with him and you.”
She looked across the table to see his blue eyes smiling at her as he held out a hand. The shadowy man she’d always pictured—professional, polite, and profoundly normal—faded away. If Luic would never fit in his place, then together they would have to make a new fit. She laid her hand in his. Her imagined prince would have lifted her fingers for a kiss. Luic said, “This is normally the part where I write my hotel room number on your hand.”
Luic seemed at home with the menu as he discussed the options with Michel. When she looked at him in awe, the eyebrow went up as he said, “Once you’ve had turkey at the Mt. Shasta Motel, the rest is just food…”
She was still laughing when Michel pointed out a distinguished couple being seated at a nearby table. “Mr. and Mrs. Frye, the new owners of La Fontaine.” Gaby stared in amazement before leaning over to whisper to Luic. “I know who they are! The Fryes were early Seattle residents who left a fabulous house and art collection to the people of Seattle. My mother used to take us to the Frye Museum all the time. I’ve seen their portraits.”
Luic went over and spoke with them for a few minutes. They both looked doubtful, but finally he pulled out the slip of paper and copied down the coded message for Leila. When he came back, Luic blew out a frustrated breath. “They said Leila and Thomas have left the country. They are protective of them but finally agreed to send a telegram to a contact name Thomas left them. I gave them the code and asked them to get in touch with us as soon as they can.”
“What will we do while we wait?” she asked in a purr making its unexpected debut in her vocal repertoire.
His eyes lit up. “You do look tired Gaby-mine. I think the best thing for you is to go to bed. As soon as possible.”
She hid an exaggerated yawn behind her fingers. “You know, I think you’re right. I seem to be amazingly exhausted.”
They made it back to their hotel in record time. But as they were crossing the lobby, a handsome young man approached. “I understand you’re looking for Leila and Thomas Chapel?” He flashed a boyish smile. “I’m a good friend of theirs. My name is Alex Menard.”
As they talked to Alex, he made it clear he was worried about Leila and Thomas but had no idea where they were. After carefully dancing around the topic however, he did finally reveal he knew about Null City. With Leila and Thomas gone, Alex asked if it would perhaps make sense to return there until they figured out how to contact them.
Gaby looked at him in astonishment. “I thought it wasn’t possible to get back to Null City.”
Alex looked surprised. “Who told you that? You can always get to Null City. I’ll take you if you want.”
Luic stood to leave. “Thank you for letting us know, but we’ll have to discuss it. How can we get in touch with you?”
After Alex gave them his address and said good night, Gaby turned to Luic. “Why did you hesitate? I could be back with the twins by tonight. And if we have to, we can always come back to this time later.”
Luic frowned as they climbed the stairs to their room. “Doesn’t it worry you that Alex is telling us the exact opposite of what Harry said?”
Gaby looked up from her attempts to negotiate the steps in her 1890 skirts. “Maybe Harry didn’t know everything?”
“Harry saved your life!”
Something strange here, she thought vaguely. Usually when Luic gets upset, he retreats. But I’m not backing down this time. “Harry stole your money.” She swung around to face him as they reached their floor. “Now we’re here, and he’s back in Seattle with all the money, and he’s got Carey and Connor.”
And the battle was on. By the time they were back in the room, Gaby had called him an arrogant jerk who wouldn’t know a good deed if it bit him in the ass. He told her he hoped her numbers made her happy because she was so repressed they were the only things she would ever love. Finally, Luic announced he had made a decision and they were not going to take Alex’s offer to get them back to Null City.
“Who died and left you in charge?” Gaby’s voice shook with anger. “I’ve done perfectly well on my own making decisions for my family.”
“Oh sure, great decisions.” Luic’s icy mask of control was gone. “Isn’t that how your landlady ended up in the hospital and you and the twins on the run? How’s that working out for you?”
“Better than getting drunk every night and waking up to ask a different woman her name.”
“I think you’re just afraid of letting anyone into your life.” His blue eyes blazed frustrated fury. “You’re scared and you’re using this as an excuse to hold back from me. I was right after all. You are a liar.”
“Get out,” screamed Gaby. “Just … get out!”
Luic grabbed his coat and stormed out of the room.
Gaby stirred in the bed, still not sure what had happened that evening. She sat up and looked over at the empty chair. No Luic. Come on, Gaby, she urged herself. If this was an accounting problem, what would she be looking for? Where were the patterns? We were like two different people. Luic doesn’t blow up when he’s upset; he withdraws. And I would be in tears before I yelled that way. She prodded at all sides of their argument like a tongue worrying a sore tooth. Why did we fight? Where is Luic? And what’s happening with the twins?
She stood and stretched. Still dressed in the clothes she’d worn to La Fontaine, she stepped to the dark window and tried to peer out. She could sure use a hit of Connor’s gift right now, she thought as her frustration grew. Her eyes widened. Connor’s gift! That’s what the conversation with Alex felt like. Not a pattern: a gift! Alex used a gift on us. Honesty compelled her to admit that, while Alex’s gift might have provided the spark, she and Luic had fanned it into flames on their own. She had to find Luic, apologize, and try to make him understand what had happened. Moving quickly, she put on her coat and hat and stepped outside the room.
To her annoyance, the lamp had gone out in the hallway. As she fumbled in the dark to lock the door of their room, an arm came from behind her, trapping both her arms at her sides. Opening her mouth to scream, she felt a cloth cover both her mouth and nose. The breath she’d been sucking in carried a faint sweet smell. Her moan came from far away as a soothing voice told her he wouldn’t hurt her … don’t worry … relax … that’s it … good girl. She thought there was something she should do. When she wasn’t so tired. Sleep.
Luic stood in the bar with an untouched drink in front of him. His long musician’s fingers were opening and closing the clasp of Gaby’s silver hairclip as his mind mercilessly replayed their fight. How had he gone from the lover entering the hotel with two dozen condoms in his pocket to the bitter man staring down a drink? He flinched. He’d called her a liar. Again. In his mind he saw her taking it like
a blow in his hotel in 1972.
Leaving the drink, he grabbed his coat and headed back to the hotel. Time for another lesson in saying he was sorry. Luic unlocked the hotel room door and rushed in. “Gaby-mine, I’m so…”
The room was empty.
You shouldn’t be surprised, he told himself. She ran the last time you called her a liar too.
Gaby woke feeling nauseous and dizzy. What happened? She realized she couldn’t move and her head was pounding. She moaned.
Alex moved into her field of vision. “I’m really sorry.” His handsome face looked concerned. “I didn’t want to hurt you, so I used the chloroform. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, so I had to tie you up until we got here.” He loosened the ropes on her wrists as he spoke. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes, but you should probably lie still. Let me know when you’d like water.”
“You used a gift on us tonight at the hotel?”
“Not really mine.” Alex shrugged and tried a rueful grin. “I found a way to borrow one.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing from you. Really.” He held up both hands. “I just need you to stay out of the way so you can’t help Leila with the Book. My family made promises to people who wouldn’t be that understanding if we fail to recover Raziel’s Book. I have to get it from Leila, or my family might not survive.”
He flashed a boyish smile. “I didn’t want to have to hurt you, at least until I find out if Leila needs your help reformatting the Book.”
Careful, Alex, your charm is slipping.
He gently lifted her head and helped her drink the water. She slit her eyes and glanced around warily as she sipped. It looked like she was in a tiny one-room cabin with boards nailed across the window openings. Walls were constructed of logs with mud daubed between to seal them, while furnishings were limited to the rope cot on which she lay and a rickety table. In the primitive setting, the solid wood door with its new lock was glaringly obvious.
“Where…?” She didn’t want him to know the water was already helping with the dizziness.
“I think it’s better if I don’t tell you where we are, but it’s too far for you to walk back to Seattle. I’ve left plenty of food and water. I’m sorry there isn’t any heat, but I did leave blankets and I’ve untied your hands. I’ll be back to check on you every couple of days. You really should be fine here until I figure out where Leila is.”
Come on, Gaby, she urged herself. Think of something!
She looked at Alex’s worried face and realized he was almost as shaky as she was. Okay, first step is to get rid of Alex… She burst into hysterics worthy of Carey. “No, please don’t leave me here. I’m so scared. Please!”
He attempted another smile. “I really am sorry.” His dark eyes were frantic as he backed from the room, locking the door behind him. Gaby continued to sob noisily as his footsteps paused outside the door before moving away. Then she pulled pins from her hair and went to work on the lock.
Alex returned the next day to find the cabin door unlocked and standing open. Cursing, he bolted into the room, hit the patch of water mixed liberally with the soap he’d left for her, and went sliding. She stepped from behind the door and cracked him across the back of his head with the water jug. A minute later she had him tied to the bed.
“You may think you’re tough,” she told his unconscious body, “but I’ve spent the past twelve years trying to stay one step ahead of Carey and Connor. You didn’t stand a chance.”
Her shaking legs gave out and she sat on the edge of the bed with her head between her knees, breathing hard and lecturing herself fiercely. So it’s the first time you ever hit anyone. Get over yourself. You still have to get back to Luic. And to Carey and Connor.
Taking a deep breath, she stood up and looked at Alex. Pulling the key from his pocket, she locked the door behind her and gave it a worried look. Hope his father didn’t teach him to pick locks like mine did. She untied his horse and headed back in the direction Alex had come.
The desk clerk said Luic hadn’t left the room for the first day, but last night he’d gone out and not come back. Gaby sighed. “Can you give me a list of the nearest bars?”
She found him at last in the old J&M—now the new J&M—in Pioneer Square. Taking the chair across from him, she put her hand over his. His remote mask of anger was back. “Luic.”
He flinched. “Hearing things. Never been that drunk before.”
“Arrogant jerk.”
He snorted. “Heard that before.”
It took minute, but at last he focused on her hands over his. He met her eyes uncertainly. “Gabrielle?”
“Luic, you have to listen to me.” She reached across and grasped both of his hands. “Please try. Alex used a gift on us to make us fight. Then when you left, he kidnapped me. He is, by the way, just about the stupidest bad guy I’ve ever heard of. But I knew I had to come back to you. I’ll always come back to you.”
“Gaby-mine?” Luic’s beautiful mouth quirked in that oh-so-sexy grin.
He stood up, swaying, and she ducked under his arm, propping him up with her shoulder. “What baby?”
His smoky velvet voice rang through the bar like a bell. “Did you know I have two dozen condoms?”
“Now I know and so does half of Seattle.” She felt her face exploding with red as she guided him toward the door.
He stopped again and cradled her face with both hands. “Have to tell you right away. Sorry. So sorry, Gaby-mine.”
“I know, Luic. Me too.”
They were almost to the door when she saw Alex drive into Pioneer Square in a wagon piled with barrels in the back. He had half a dozen men with him, and they spread out toward the other bars lining the Square. Luic stumbled, but she tried to hurry him. As they got outside, she pushed him toward the barrel-filled wagon abandoned by Alex and his men.
Shoving and pushing, she got Luic into the wagon and picked up the reins. On TV westerns they just slapped the reins down on the horses’ backs, so she gave it a try. As Alex and his friends spotted them and fired shots, the panicked horses broke into a full gallop. Gaby didn’t know what to do, and a look back showed at least a couple of pursuers.
“Luic,” she screamed. “Can you hear me?”
“Can you stop this thing?”
“On Wagon Train they just yelled ‘whoa,’ but it’s not working.” She grabbed his arm. “I love you!” The last thing she knew was falling with the wagon and barrels coming down on top of them.
There was definitely water dripping. Someone needs to fix that faucet. Luic, do you hear the drip?
Drip, drip…
She was still so tired. But the dripping… It might wake up the kids. So hard to get up this morning. She cracked a reluctant eyelid. Still dark? What happened to the night-light? Carey was still afraid of the dark. So was Connor, although he would never admit it.
Drip.
She put out a hand and felt … dirt? Her hand scrabbled farther and came up against something—oh my God—someone. She knew, before her hand could even feel its way up to his face, she knew. “Luic! Can you hear me?”
Drip, drip…
The smell of the kerosene dripping from the barrels reached her, triggering the memory.
Luic. Oh baby, no! Please. I love you.
Dimly she heard feet running toward them. She felt something slam into her from behind, but she never saw the lantern thrown against the barrels or its flame sputtering until the stream of kerosene snaking toward it became a roaring fist of fire snatching greedily at the dark skies.
LEILA, Chapter 12
1891, Train from San Francisco to New York
Thomas loved the train to New York. Leila reminded him she only watched movies older than Star Wars if they featured animated rodents, but he kept trying to explain how the trip compared to Murder on the Orient Express or The Lady Vanishes. Nobody on the train showed undue interest in them, even though Thomas spent every free moment in the dining car. Si
nce he wouldn’t let her out of his sight, Leila spent much of her trip watching nineteenth century America roll past.
The first day in their Pullman compartment, Leila piled the jewels onto the little table and Thomas added his knife. When they set their clasped hands on top, the vibration was so fierce they could feel the individual pieces rocking beneath their palms. Then … nothing.
“That’s it?” Leila was outraged. “Four people dead, Alex shot, you shot, both of us sent back in time, me wearing that damn corset… And all the jewels do is wobble a bit?”
“I like the corset,” Thomas protested.
At night a bed, immediately claimed by Thomas, was dropped from the ceiling by the porter to form the second bed in their compartment. They would lie awake in their separate beds, listening to the rails and talking about everything and nothing. Thomas described growing up between two countries and two worlds, with only his brother Danny as a bridge. Leila told about Dad’s construction business he was thinking of selling after his heart attack, and how Mom had worked with him on the design-side, so it meant retirement for her too. She wondered if they would come and run the Chateau after all.
They talked about what they missed most from their old lives. Leila said it was wearing shorts and eating Chipotles’ burritos. Thomas sighed over noodles at Wagamama and football. Proper football, he told her, not that barbaric bit they did in the States.
Their last night on the train she asked him, “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“Of course. Her name was Allie and she was gorgeous—blonde curls, big blue eyes, and smart mouth.”
“What happened?”
“We were torn apart when we graduated from nursery school and went to different primaries.” He sighed dramatically. “But it would never have worked out. I ran into her a few years later, and she actually was a fan of the Manchester United football club.” He shuddered. “Talk about narrow escapes…”