by Janet Leigh
Isla reached up and touched the photo. “That pesky photographer was back snapping photos of the victims. I was angry at the time, but after the war, I hunted him down, and he gave me the photo of our hero.”
“Only my leg was damaged.” Anna was standing on the threshold of the adjoining room, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and balancing on her cane with the other.
I quickly crossed the room and hugged her tightly. Marco was on my heels.
“What brings you back?” Isla asked.
“My grandfather is going to visit your bakery, and I need you to give him the Sleigh key.” As Marco said the words, I pulled the key from my jacket pocket.
Anna gasped. “You saved it from Hitler?”
“He wasn’t the real Adolf Hitler,” I said. “Only an impersonator to do Hitler’s bidding at the end of the war.”
Anna and Isla both stared in awe at the information.
“Yes, I don’t know how you will recognize my grandfather.” A crease formed between Marco’s brows. “Before we traveled to 1945, he discovered the key, because you had the painting of your mother hanging in the bakery. And now the painting is buried in East Berlin.”
Isla and Anna looked at each other, and Isla laughed. She put both hands on Marco’s shoulders and spun him around. On the front wall of the bakery was an enormous rendition of the painting. Anyone leaving the building would see it on the way out.
“I do not think your grandfather will miss the painting,” Anna said, chuckling. “Come—we should have tea, or would you Americans like coffee?”
We sat at one of the tables. Isla went behind the counter to help the guests, and Anna told us about life after the war. She explained how Caiyan had given her a priceless painting wrapped in an expensive tapestry along with the portrait of her mother.
“After the war, it took a while for Berlin to get back on her feet.” Anna sighed. “My husband returned from war, but he was wounded and couldn’t go back to his job. The money I made selling the tapestry paid for Isla’s schooling, and I returned the painting to the museum. They gave me a stipend to open the two bakeries in Berlin. My husband, God rest his soul, insisted I buy this shop, because it was in the American sector of Berlin, and he knew the young American soldiers loved the sweet breads.”
“Lucky for us, we were here when the wall went up,” Isla said. She placed a plate of croissants in front of me and then returned to help a customer. I sipped my coffee and tried hard not to scarf down all the buttery pastries. They were delicious.
Anna asked about Caiyan, and I explained he was on another assignment. Technically, he was assigned to stay home, but from the looks of it, he wasn’t obeying orders. Thank God.
I listened while Marco described his grandfather to Anna and explained how important it was for Isla to meet Henri. Anna put her hands together, clearly excited that Isla might finally meet a man and have children. I gave Marco a nudge, because he wasn’t supposed to screw with destiny, but I guess even fate needs an occasional hip bump in the right direction.
We stood to go, and Anna kissed both of our cheeks. Isla came from around the pastry case and hugged both of us. “Just answer one question before you leave,” she said, glancing out the window. “Does this horrible wall ever come down?”
“Yes,” I said, “and Berlin turns into a beautiful united city.”
Anna and Isla hugged each other as Marco and I left the bakery with smiles too big to contain.
* * *
Marco and I walked silently toward the Tiergarten. The morning light revealed that the city of Berlin was still struggling to recover from a war that had happened twenty years earlier. Most of the buildings were occupied but showed damage to the rooftops and sides, while others stood empty of the life that formerly filled them, waiting patiently for love and attention.
We passed a platform, and I took the stairs two at a time to see over the wall. East Berlin showed more signs of the war. The people moving about wore black and gray. It was almost like looking at a black-and-white photograph. The windows of the buildings were bricked up, as if looking over into West Berlin was a crime. A small child waved in my direction, and I waved back.
“It’s sad the way families are separated,” I said, climbing down from the platform.
We followed the wall back to the spot where we’d landed. The biergarten was closed, and the happy, singing Germans were all at home sleeping off last night’s consumption. I scouted the tree line for any sign of Mahlia or Toches.
“I think they gave up,” Marco said, watching me canvass the area.
“I want to be sure before I call my vessel. There are so many trees—how can we be sure Toches isn’t hiding behind one waiting to spring out and get a gander at my vessel?”
“Did you see the poor guy?” Marco smiled down at me. “He could barely walk. What did you hit him with?”
“Knee to the groin and palm to the nose.” I mimicked my signature move for Marco.
“OK, SuperJen. Remind me not to make you mad.” He interlocked his fingers with mine and drew me in close. The heat that had almost extinguished came in full force and sent flames sparking through my body. He tipped my chin up with his free hand. I looked up into his blue eyes, and I wondered if I could have the same kind of feelings for Marco that I did for Caiyan.
He brushed his lips across mine and deepened the kiss. His tongue lingered—warm, sweet, sensual, and perfect. This was different from the fire-inducing, temperature-raising kisses from Marco. This…was a good-bye kiss. My heart took a troubled skip as I drew away from the embrace.
“What was that for?” I asked, searching his eyes for an answer.
“I thought I should get that now, because when we return, I don’t think it will be on the table.”
“What do you mean?” I cocked an eyebrow his way. We’d found Isla. She would meet Henri, and Marco would be fine.
“Jen, the look on your face when you saw the photo of Caiyan saving Anna and Isla…” He shook his head. The blond curls fell across his forehead. “I can’t compete with that.”
He was right. I had already forgiven Caiyan. I just needed to tell him in person. But my head told me Marco might be the better choice, and I was missing an opportunity for happiness.
“Maybe we should try—”
“I don’t like to finish second.” He put both hands on my shoulders. “I’m scratching myself from this race until the track clears and gives me a more solid path.”
“What about my debt?”
He smiled and dropped his hands from my shoulders. “Go find Caiyan and see if he turns into your Prince Charming. If he doesn’t, I’ll collect on what’s due.”
“Do you think he will be at Gitmo?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out.” Marco put his hand to his key and called his vessel.
“You’re not riding with me?” I asked as the red Indie race car appeared in the clearing in front of me.
“If I go directly to the WTF, Jake will expect me to follow orders all the time.”
“You’re supposed to return for debriefing when we complete a mission,” I said, reminding him of the WTF rules.
“You can tell Jake I’ll get around to it. First, I’m going to Italy to see my mother. She’s at our house in Capri, and after this experience, I think a nice, long vacation is well earned.”
“So…I’ll see you next moon cycle?”
“Until then.”
I called my outhouse, and we boarded at the same time. I was curious about the consequences of Caiyan stealing the Thunder key. Would the WTF allow him to keep it and regain his position as my defender? I gave Marco a small finger wave as my inner voice sat on the sofa, drowning her sorrows in a tub of Blue Bell ice cream over what might have been.
Chapter 16
My outhouse landed smoothly with Marco’s kiss lingering on my lips. My inner voice was holding up a sign that read Team Marco, but my heart yearned to replace Marco’s gentle kiss with Caiyan’s passionat
e one. I bounded from the platform, stumbling over my own feet. Jake caught me before I took a swan dive to the cement floor.
“Whoa,” Jake said, pulling me to my feet. “What’s the rush?”
“I need to find Caiyan,” I said, breathless from my almost fall. I readjusted the strap on my sundress and found my balance. An account of the events of Berlin, round two, began spilling out of my mouth like water from a busted fire hydrant.
“We know,” Jake said, interrupting my monologue.
“You know?”
“Yes, after you left, things started changing. Newspaper clippings about the bakeries owned by Isla and Anna appeared. I was worried you had disobeyed orders and gone to East Berlin. Caiyan stopped by and gave us the rundown.”
“He did?” I couldn’t help but smile, and Jake’s face tightened.
“He did. He also tried to return the Thunder, but I told him to keep it.”
“You did?”
“I did.” Jake’s strong jawline broke into a wide smile. “We need him. It took balls to go back and save Anna. There was a strong possibility he would cross over the fabric of time, and like the saying goes, you can’t be in two places at once.”
I nodded. If the bomb had dropped on Anna’s bakery before we left Berlin, Caiyan would have died the moment he time traveled to 1945. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing all the pent-up frustration and worry I had been holding inside.
“I’m glad things worked out,” Jake said. “I would hate to lose Marco.”
Me too. But as the saying goes, you can’t be in two places at once.
“Should I expect Marco anytime soon?” Jake stared at the empty landing pad, a glint of supposition in his eyes.
I shook my head. “He had an errand to run.”
“I figured as much,” Jake said. “I guess things will get back to normal now that Caiyan is back.”
“Do you mean he can be my defender?”
Jake nodded. “I may not like it, but the brigands need someone who thinks like they do chasing their tail. We’ll see if the two of you can work together.”
“What about Marco?”
“I’m working on that one, and you might have to pull double duty until we find more recruits.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” I saluted Jake, and he frowned. I started to head toward the blue room.
“He’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know, but you need to get back to Melissa Jo’s wedding.” Jake tapped his watch. “You’ve been gone about two hours. The reception should be going strong, and I need you back before people start wondering what happened to you.”
The wedding—I had almost forgotten. I started toward my vessel. My heart would have to wait until after Melissa Jo rode off into the night with her Prince Charming—or in Melissa Jo’s case, Emperor Charming.
I glanced back at Jake. He had his thumb hanging loosely from his pants pocket, watching me walk away with the same expression he’d had when we stopped being lovers and became “just friends.”
“You know, I still need a plus-one. Do you want to come with me?”
“Mamma Bea does make a mean moonshine lemonade.” He smiled, and his dimples winked back at me. “My paperwork can wait. Plus every guest was in possession of a concealed weapon, so someone with authority should probably be present.”
“Absolutely.” I laughed, and we boarded my vessel. I hoped the party was still going strong. After everything I had been through, a good stiff drink and a spin on the dance floor would be more beneficial than a week with a shrink.
The next sound I heard was Emperor KW Smooth Dog singing his karaoke rendition of the hip-hop song “Get Low.”
“Holy shit!” I looked over at Jake, and he laughed a deep, gut-wrenching laugh I hadn’t heard in a long time.
“You’d better get over there before your mom hears the word fuck. She’ll ground the entire wedding party.”
We cut through the woods and entered the barn through a side door. A bead of sweat threatened my upper lip as I envisioned my mom, mouth hanging open in horror at the crude lyrics of the offensive song. Instead, my mom and dad were bopping up and down on the dance floor.
I stopped dead in my tracks, and Jake almost ran into me. I glanced around the room. Gertie was dirty dancing with Brodie on the dance floor, and I was shocked at the way he moved. Not bad for a skinny white guy. Smooth Dog was up on stage with his new bride, rapping out the lyrics, and the entire family seemed to be having a good time.
Jake wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Looks like you made it in time.”
We stood on the edge of the dance floor watching the fun. The DJ commandeered the microphone, and “Boogie Fever” came over the speakers. Jake was hijacked by my aunt Mabel. She pulled him on the dance floor, and all three of her chins were flapping as they gyrated together.
Eli handed me a mason jar of moonshine lemonade with the happy couple’s names hand painted on it in curly letters. We clinked glasses in a toast. “Crazy weekend, huh, Jen?”
“That pretty much sums it up,” I said, taking a sip of the drink. The smooth liquid burned all the way down to my toes, and I put a hand to my chest. “Wow, that’s a really good batch,” I managed to squeak.
Eli put an arm around me. I rested my head on his shoulder and tried to forget the people I’d met in 1945 who lost their lives in World War II and the brigands we chased to these dangerous places.
“Where y’all been?” Gertie came up behind Eli, grabbed his moonshine, and took a long drink from the mason jar.
“We had a little WTF matter to clear up,” I said. Eli cut his eyes at me.
“Gertie knows?” he asked, and both looked shocked the other knew about the WTF.
“I thought it was a secret?” Gertie asked, her bottom lip forming a pout.
I explained to Gertie how I’d had to tell Eli about the WTF, because the Mafusos had taken him hostage in exchange for a key. I left out the part about discovering his ability to time travel.
“Do you have the gift?” Eli asked Gertie.
“No,” I answered for her. “She found out by accidentally jumping in my vessel and going back in time.”
“Yeah, and let me tell you a thing, Eli Cloud.” Gertie stood on her tiptoes and stared Eli right in the eyes. “You do not want to be part of that. If Jen ever asks you to go back in time, tell her to forget it. People shoot at you.”
Eli downed the rest of his moonshine, and a few glasses later, I was feeling pretty good.
Melissa Jo was up on the stage, and the customary tossing of the bride’s bouquet was announced. Beyoncé’s song “Single Ladies” began to play. Gertie yanked my arm, and before I realized what had happened, I was standing in the center of the dance floor holding the bouquet.
“Dang, I thought I would catch that,” Gertie said.
Brodie stood behind her, pretending to dodge a bullet and mouthing, “Thank you” in my direction.
I stood for a moment as the lights dimmed, and Brodie gathered Gertie in his arms for a slow dance. Brodie might not be ready for marriage, but I had a good feeling about the two of them. I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Ye cannae catch the bridal bouquet and naugh have a dance.”
I turned to see Caiyan standing behind me in his black tuxedo jacket and black jeans, slightly torn. My heart rate tripled, and I think I nodded.
He held his hand out to me, and I placed my palm in his. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and we started to sway slightly. His green eyes cut deep into mine. “I missed ye, lassie.”
I melted at his words. I could forgive Caiyan, but I wasn’t sure I could forget so easily.
“You went back,” I said as he pulled me in tight and nuzzled my neck.
“Aye, I had to go back. The tollatsch was excellent.”
I stopped dancing and tipped my eyes to meet his. “You could have died.”
“But I didnae.” He started moving again, and I was lost in the music and the c
omfort of Caiyan’s arms.
“You lied to me,” I said.
“Aye, I’m sorry.”
I was divided like Berlin. Part of me wanted to trust Caiyan again, and the other part felt safe behind the wall. My life wouldn’t be as exciting, and I would miss the sex, but could I risk my life and my heart doing this job? If Caiyan was back at the WTF, we would be traveling together. Me in my outhouse and him in—I had no clue. What was he traveling in?
“How did you get Toches to reveal his vessel to you?”
“I have run into Toches more than once in my lifetime, and I know what he drives, but I dinnae know his key was the Thunder. It would have saved us a lot of time if we’d known.”
“What will happen now that Toches doesn’t have a key?”
“He will most likely join the Mafusos and continue to cause problems for the WTF.”
Another brigand on the loose. Jake’s words rang in my head. We need him.
“It seems I have a new defender.”
“Indeed.” He paused, and his eyes twinkled under the rotating disco ball. “I heard he’s more refined than the last guy.”
“How will I know if I can trust him?” I asked as we coasted around the dance floor to a Miranda Lambert favorite. It was a song she’d written about her life and the end of her marriage.
The song felt bruised—slow and sensuous—not unlike the way my heart felt at the moment.
“Ye will need to have faith.”
“Maybe he should take a vow of trust.”
“Vows—now there’s something scary.”
“Why, Mr. McGregor, I had no idea you were afraid of those two little words the bride and groom exchange, committing them to a lifetime with each other.”
“I dinnae say that. Maybe if the right girl were to forgive me for telling a small tale, I might consider the option of spending eternity with her.”
“I don’t know. My trust-o-meter is sort of screwed up at the moment. I’m not sure I could commit to those two little words either. Maybe if the right guy continued to show me he was trustworthy.”
“How aboot something to seal the deal? Like a treaty.”