by Janet Leigh
“Aye, I had secured a place in the barn, ye kin?”
I nodded. I did remember finding a dry place to wait until the sun came up. It was a cold, rainy night. I hadn’t known where I was or how I had traveled back in time.
“And yer teeth were chattering so loud I thought ye would wake up the owners of the barn and get us kicked out into the rain. I put my arms around ye for warmth; then ye kissed me.”
“I kissed you?” That wasn’t right at all.
“Aye, ye did. It was a fine kiss too, and because I’m a gentleman, I kissed ye back.”
“A gentleman?”
“Sure, I didnae want ye to feel rejected.”
“Rejected?” I questioned his story.
“All the lassies get mad if ye don’t show affection when they come at ye with their lips puckered and ready to be kissed.”
I harrumphed, and he laughed. “Best roll in the hay I ever had. I wish I had known ye were a traveler. I would have hunted ye down and had another roll instead of waiting so long.”
The car angled upward as we maneuvered the curves of a narrow, steep hill. Darkness and a dense tree line blinded my view of any other living beings within miles. If I were a kidnapper, this was where I would bring my victims. At the top of the hill, our driver pulled through a stone archway and into the circular drive of a large stone castle. A valet opened the door for me and welcomed Caiyan home.
Home? So this was the grand estate Caiyan owned in Scotland. His family home.
“Caiyan, this is a freakin’ castle,” I said as we entered the grand foyer.
“Not really. It was my grandfather’s estate in the highlands.” He bowed to me with a sweeping arm. “Now it’s mine.”
“It looks like a castle,” I said, taking in the entry. “I’m pretty sure I saw Rapunzel lowering down a rope made of hair from the tower thingy as we entered.” My coat dripped on the expensive Oriental rug that covered the stone floor. We handed our coats to the valet and proceeded through two immense stone archways to the main room. A roaring fire was crackling in a fireplace so large I could have stood inside it, and an oil painting Caiyan told me later was of his great-grandmother hung above.
“Are you sure this isn’t a castle?” I asked.
“No. It’s considered a country estate. One of my ancestors built it in the fourteenth century. It was seized by the English during the Scottish rebellion but returned when my great-great-grandmother married an Englishman.” He led me to a large window that overlooked a courtyard lit by half a dozen antique park fixtures. I was surprised Sherlock Holmes wasn’t leaning against one, smoking his pipe.
“See? No moat.” Caiyan pointed out the window.
“So you were joking about the moat?”
“Weel, there was a moat, but my ma had it filled in, because she couldnae keep me oot of it and was afraid I might drown.”
He usually didn’t talk about his parents. I knew they had died in a car accident, but he hadn’t shared the details of his past with me. Any information I had came from the WTF.
We sat on the velvet sofa, and an older man with a gray beard and blue eyes that twinkled when he spoke brought us each a snifter of brandy. The man seemed to dote on Caiyan like a long-lost son who had just come home from the war. He had an air of ownership about him and kept calling me miss.
As the man left the room, I turned to Caiyan and joked, “If you tell me his name is Alfred, I’m going to demand to see the Batcave.”
“I’m sorry. I should have introduced ye.” He raked a hand through his hair, and I noticed it was longer than normal. His work must have kept him from getting his monthly trim. “I’ve never brought a woman here, and I’ve forgotten my manners.”
“Never?” I asked.
“No. Ye know ye are veery special to me. The man was Nials. He will give me some grief aboot not being properly introduced to my lady friend.” Caiyan explained Nials had been with his family for years. He and his wife had practically raised Caiyan after his parents’ death. Nials’s wife had passed some time ago, and now Nials ran the house.
After we finished the drinks, Caiyan gave me a tour of the home and its many rooms. We ended up in the study, a cozy room with bookshelves lining three walls. A palisade of windows with a view of the heated swimming pool made up the fourth. As I watched the steam roll off the pool, I could feel the tension in Caiyan.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked.
“I wanted ye to see more of me.”
I laughed. “I think I’ve seen all there is.”
He smiled and took both of my hands in his. “What I mean is ye are an important part of my life, Jennifer Cloud, and I want to share more of it with ye.”
Was he about to propose? Was this my moment? I felt the excitement start at my toes and run up my body. My inner voice was searching venues and bookmarking wedding dresses in Brides magazine. Stop! I ordered my inner voice to chill. I didn’t know if I was ready. Did I want to be married? Did I want to be married to Caiyan? I had lost my train of thought, and as I refocused, I heard him saying he needed a favor.
Wait, where was the proposal? Damn. He needed a favor. I should have known better, but somewhere down deep, I was relieved I didn’t have to make a major life-changing decision today.
“What?” I asked him. “What kind of favor?”
“I need you to take me on a little trip,” he said as he ran his fingers up my arm, generating a heat that only a person with the gift can create.
“Where are we going?” I asked, withdrawing my arm from his kisses.
“Germany,” he said. His gaze drifted away so he wasn’t looking me square in the eye.
“What year?” I had a feeling he wasn’t referring to a lateral travel.
He pulled a map from his pocket and spread it out on the massive coffee table for me to see. It was old, and some of the detail was faded.
“Here.” He pointed to a section of Berlin called Friedrichshain.
“What’s so important in Friedrich-whatever?” I asked, trying to decide if I should give in and take him there, risking my neck and my travel license if Jake found out.
“There is a veery special painting I would like to save from a particularly nasty fire.”
That sounded legit. Caiyan was, after all, an art collector. He owned an extensive collection of rare art that he had acquired through nontraditional means. Most of it he’d stolen before it perished by some natural disaster.
“Are we stealing the art?”
“Not exactly. Ye know I would never steal unless the reason was important.” He looked hurt that I would even suggest such a thing. “If we don’t save the painting, it will perish in the fire.”
“OK,” I said.
He looked surprised that I had agreed so easily, and that made me wary. I was all about saving the art, and it was my fault he didn’t have his key. I was considering this an even-steven sort of trade. I would take him to get a painting that was going to burn up in a fire, and the guilt I felt over him giving away his key to save me would be less. Hopefully.
“Great,” he said. He pulled me to him and kissed me hard on the mouth. “Let’s go.”
“Wait,” I said, pointing to my watch. “I can’t travel yet. It’s only eleven-thirty, and the moon cycle isn’t open yet.”
“Aye, it tis. Scotland is five hours ahead of Gitmo.”
My watch was still set to the central time zone. Disappointment hit my heart like a tsunami, flooding away all the possibilities that Caiyan wanted anything other than what booty benefitted him—stolen, female, or otherwise. I snatched my hand away from his kiss.
“Is that why we came to Scotland?”
He ran a hand down my arm. “Jen, ye have been the only one I was willing to give up being a defender for.”
“I know,” I said, lowering my gaze.
“But my way of life might be more difficult to change.”
I was trying to understand as he tipped my chin upward. His eyes stayed with mine,
pulling me into a pool of deep-green, sensual acceptance. We walked hand in hand down a long hall toward his final destination.
The hall emptied into a small open courtyard. Stone walls covered with English ivy surrounded the space, and it was a tight squeeze for a blind landing. “I understand why you didn’t want me to land here without seeing the spot first,” I said as I gestured toward the courtyard. “Landing in the moat might actually have been a possibility.”
“Aye, I was more concerned aboot ye crashing through the four hundred-year-old stone walls,” he said, playfully pulling a strand of my hair. “It’s safe to call your vessel here.”
I did as I was told and reminded him I had to be back in time for my meeting with the WTF. He assured me this was an in-and-out trip.
My outhouse appeared in the center of the courtyard, stirring up a slight wind as it settled on the cobblestone ground. The smell of the early-morning dew as it clung to the ivy-covered walls reminded me it was almost sunrise and would be an hour later when we landed in Berlin.
We decided on a secure landing spot in a cluster of trees located in a park. Our main goal was some sort of building he called a bunker. The words Horst-Wessel-Stadt were listed above the area, indicating a borough of the city.
“What year am I shooting for?”
He paused for a moment, rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger. “Maybe ye should give me yer key and let me drive.”
We both knew this was a bad idea. My vessel was very persnickety to outside travelers. I knew that Caiyan’s experience would make hitting our destination easier, but there was no guarantee my vessel wouldn’t throw us both out on our asses. Besides, I felt safer wearing my key. I had control.
“I think I’ll keep the key, but thanks for the offer.”
He grimaced. “OK, let’s go. Nineteen forty-five.”
I tried to remember any important details of that year. Jake always prepared me for my travels with intel about my destination and what to expect from the time period. My world-history class in high school had been right after lunch, and napping had taken precedence over listening. I knew I should have paid attention. Caiyan distracted me with a long, deep kiss with lots of tongue. I was going for the buttons on his shirt when he swatted my hand away.
“Time’s a-wasting if ye want to be back to report for duty.” Caiyan was antsy, but I put the blame on traveling without his key.
He was right. If I didn’t want Jake to know I had traveled, this was going to be a quickie. I prayed the guys in the travel lab were preoccupied with following the brigands and wouldn’t notice me blipping up on the screen.
We climbed in, and I took a deep breath. Caiyan interlaced his fingers with mine, and I felt a warm surge cascade through my body. We were good together, and my vessel felt the connection. It swept us away with me concentrating hard on the spot in the picture.
The landing was the easy part. When we stepped from my vessel, due to the time difference between Gitmo and our destination, it was early morning. I had skipped about six hours of quality sleep time. Jake was not going to be happy if I was tired.
Streaks of the rising sunlight were trying to make their way through a blanket of angry gray clouds. The rumble of airplane engines could be heard off in the distance.
“Those planes sound really loud,” I said, looking up into the sky. We had landed in the park exactly as shown on the map. A grove of mangled trees surrounded a small patch of grass. Towering over the treetops was the luminous form of the gray-brick bunker from which Caiyan wanted to retrieve the painting. It was an ugly building. I couldn’t understand why they would keep a precious work of art in such a place, but this was Germany, 1945. I was racking my brain trying to remember what had been happening in 1945.
Caiyan looked dapper in khaki pants, a shirt, and a brown bomber jacket. My vessel had dressed him as Indiana Jones. Clever, my inner voice agreed, since we were stealing—correction, saving—an artifact.
My clothes weren’t so easy to maneuver in. I had on an A-line, gray wool skirt that hit below my knees and a matching jacket with square shoulders. My shoes were cork wedges, and I pranced around a little, trying to get a feel for walking in them.
Caiyan laid a helping hand on my elbow as he guided me over the rubble-laden ground. I decided the park must be going through a renovation as we came to a cemented stone archway and a fountain that had been drained and was filled with debris. Waist-high pedestals were positioned around the fountain, holding statues carved from stone. Most of them were missing key body parts. It was as if the Headless Horseman had been through on a midnight ride.
I passed a stone boy standing next to a dog that was mostly intact. They reminded me of the characters from the bedtime stories my dad read to me as a child. In front of each statue was a limestone turtle. Some of them were missing a shell, or their masonry had become dislodged and crooked. I could imagine that when the renovations were done, it would be a beautiful park. Caiyan was practically pushing me through the sanctuary. As we exited the opposite side through an iron gate, the roar of the airplanes seemed to be getting closer.
“Don’t you think those planes are loud?” I almost had to shout the question.
Caiyan looked up to the sky; a worry line creased his brow.
At once, deafening sirens began sounding around us. The air took on a sense of increased consciousness, and I squashed the sudden urge to run as I looked at Caiyan in question.
“Shite!”
I felt the first rumble as the planes dropped their precious cargo. The ground shook below my feet. Caiyan grabbed my hand, and we took off in a dead run toward the building.
“What the hell?” I shouted as I tried to keep up with Caiyan. The planes flew directly over our heads, releasing a bomb that hit one side of the gray building. A round of gunfire started from the top of one of the towers. The gunman hit a bulls-eye, and the plane began a fiery descent, spiraling to the ground and exploding on impact.
“Holy shit! What’s going on?” I asked, again raising my voice to be heard above the chaos. We were standing at the bottom of a steep, rocky hill. Bombs and bullets were raining down on us like lead confetti at a New Year’s Eve celebration. We needed cover and fast.
“There!” Caiyan shouted and pointed at the entrance to the gray cement building at the top of the hill. People were running toward the building in what looked like a stampede of fear. The entrance was on the other side of the hill in the direct line of fire from the planes. We would never make it there safely. Caiyan motioned for me to go up the hill in front of him. I started up the steep incline, sidestepping my way against the slick grass and rocks. Caiyan was a few feet behind me. I stumbled and lost my footing about halfway up. Tumbling ass over elbows, I passed Caiyan on the way down and came to a halt at the bottom of the hill. A sharp pain smacked me in the back of the head.
“Lass, are ye all right?” Caiyan was standing over me. He bent down and cradled my head in his hand.
“World War II was in 1945,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
“Aye.”
“And we’re in Germany.” Then my world faded to black.
Chapter 6
I woke with a foggy recollection of what had happened. A searing pain shot through my temples, and I tried to focus on the voice speaking to me.
“Jen, are ye hurt?”
My vision cleared, and Caiyan was hovering over me. I tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea rolled around in the pit of my stomach, causing me to stay down. Caiyan began speaking to me in a language I couldn’t understand, and the face of an older woman peered around him. She spoke to me, but I couldn’t understand her. The ringing in my ears was causing everyone to sound funny.
I heard myself say, “I’m fine.”
“Sehr gut,” he said, eyeing me cautiously.
What the heck did he say? my inner voice questioned. I tilted my head so I could get a better view of my location. I was in a tunnel of some sort. The entire tunnel consisted
of dingy yellowed-painted brick. Hammocks were strung like bunk beds three high and endlessly down the tunnel. People were crammed in the hold, and I was lying in a single cot at the end. Small lights emitting an eerie yellow glow were spaced along the cracked brick in the ceiling overhead. The pungent smell of blood, combined with sweat and dirt, made me gag.
Caiyan leaned over me, and the woman moved in front of Caiyan. Her ivory skin was weathered and wrinkled, possibly due from stress instead of age, but her eyes held a kindness that made me feel at ease. She was examining me; however, I had a gut feeling she wasn’t a doctor. She reached up and removed something from behind my head. It was a rag soaked in blood.
Was that my blood? I tried to sit up, but the woman pushed me back down and replaced the bloody rag with a clean one. Caiyan spoke to her in the strange language, and she backed off.
“Have I been shot?” I reached for my head.
“No, ye hit yer head in the fall down the hill,” Caiyan said, but his accent was strange. How hard had I hit my head?
My memory came back to me in one sharp pain. I had been falling down a hill as bombs dropped around me. I remembered Caiyan kneeling over me, holding my head with the look of sheer terror on his face.
Suddenly my vision became crystal clear. We were in Germany during the end of the Second World War. Hitler was on the rampage, trying to hang on to the last hope of world domination.
“What the fu—” Before I could finish, Caiyan started tsking at me and telling the woman his fraulein was confused.
“I’m not confused, you jackass,” I said, my voice rising an octave. The woman’s eyebrows shot up, and she moved to another part of the tunnel.
“Shh. Keep your voice down, or you will draw attention to us.”
“What were you thinking?” I asked in a hushed tone. “We’re in Berlin, in the middle of one of the worst wars in the history of the world.”
Caiyan leaned down and whispered to me, “How’s yer German accent?”
I thought about the question. Caiyan was speaking English to me but with a German accent. I hoped the woman didn’t report me to the Gestapo. The headlines would read, “Crazy American Woman Caught Napping behind Enemy Lines.”