The first thing Tony noticed when the dizziness wore off was the smell of vinyl.
And warmth.
The blackness faded from his vision. A vertical crack of light bisected a curtained picture window. All he could make out were the hulking shapes of a bed, a dresser, and a small, square table with two chairs.
The motel. Before it burned. He’d made it! He pushed himself off the cool, tile floor—
“Tony?”
His blood froze as his warp-befuddled mind registered warmth and pressure against his side. “Violet?” No way. No way. No way.
She moved away. Her voice trembled. “What happened? Where are—”
“Oh my God... How did— you shouldn’t be—”
“Where are we? Where are those men—”
“Gone. We’re safe for now.” Good God, what had he done? How had she come with him? He lurched to his feet and walked to the door, his footsteps clacking on the floor.
She pushed herself up, then straightened her dress with a sharp tug. When she spoke, her voice regained its firmness. “Where on earth—”
“The Paradise Motel.” He gave a wry half-laugh. “Look.” He yanked open the door. The sign in the parking lot glowed brightly. Beneath it, a pink neon “Vacancy” welcomed them.
“Oh my word.” Violet drew up beside him. “What—? How...?”
Crisp stripes marked parking spaces in the smooth, black asphalt. In a few of the spaces sat cars with huge fins and bulging headlights. She blinked.
“Welcome to 1959.” Tony said. Shit, shit, shit!
“Ninetee— Good heavens! Do you mean to tell me we’ve traveled back in time?” She leaned on the door frame, and touched two shaking fingers to her lower lip. “It’s—surely I’m dreaming.” She pinched the back of her hand, then jerked her fingers away. “Ouch!”
“‘Fraid not.” Dread gripped Tony in a bear hug. Months ago he’d sworn he was through with time travel. Never again. Yet there he was.
Though there was no snow, a chill breeze brew dry leaves between the cars and chased Tony and Violet back inside. He shut the door.
“What are we going to do?” Violet fumbled with a lock of blond hair. “Where are those men? Will they find us here?” Her voice rose with each question. “Who are—”
“I don’t know.” Tony moved closer, laying a hand on her elbow. “I have no idea why they’re chasing us, but there’s not much chance they’ll find us here, now.”
“But... are we stuck here?” Her words came fast. “I don’t want to be in 1959! What will—”
“It’s okay.” Tony pulled her into his arms. “We’ll be able to go home once we get the Pull—when our mental energy builds back up. But that probably won’t happen for a few days.”
“What about- when we go back? Will those men be there?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. You warp in time, but stay in the same physical location. All I can think of is to jump home from someplace else. And pray they’re elsewhere—elsewhen.” He stroked her hair.
“What will people at home think? This is what happened when you disappeared, wasn’t it? I can’t afford to lose my job—”
“I’ll talk to Keith.” Tony rubbed her back. She calmed, though she still trembled. “I do have a little pull around there, you know. As for the rest...”
What would he tell his daughter? Or his parents? Last time, he’d told them he went on a cruise and he’d never had a chance to call home. He’d hated to say it, the lie burning his mouth, but the truth was too strange.
Thankfully, Keith, his boss and CEO of the company, had accepted Tony’s claim of not remembering where he’d been, but would he force Tony to go on leave of absence again? “We’ll figure out something,” he said. “I’m not thrilled to be here either, but it beats the alternative.”
Violet covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, it’s not like me to prattle on so—”
“It’s okay.” He pulled her closer, trying to give—and take—comfort in her nearness. “I’d worry if you weren’t freaked out.”
Guilt blanketed him. He’d stayed away from the office, spent his leave of absence working out, building his strength. He’d learned to shoot, and re-learned martial arts, hoping he’d never need any of it, and when six months had gone by with no sign of the snipers, he’d hoped his last change in time had relegated them to a timeline that never happened. But now it looked like they’d just been biding their time. Bad enough they’d shot at Violet too, forcing Tony to do something he never wanted to do again, and jump into the past to escape. But how in hell had she come along? Was physical contact all it took? Or what if—
She could time-travel too? Because she was Charlotte? Charlotte had been able to—
It’s impossible to travel into one’s future. And Charlotte was dead. Violet must have come with him because she’d grabbed him as he warped. Simple proximity.
She slumped against him. “I’m... exhausted. Not just from running, but...”
“Recovery.” Tony was growing fatigued too. “Once it kicks in, nothing will keep you awake. It’s like being in a coma.”
“What’s—”
He walked her to the bed. “Lie down. Once recovery hits, you can’t fight it.” She sank onto the bed, then struggled to shrug off her coat and purse. When he grabbed them, his gut dropped. There was only one bed.
It didn’t matter. Not when neither would have the energy to move, much less take advantage of the situation.
Violet slouched against the headboard, oblivious to the cleavage her black, v-neck dress revealed.
Tony snatched his glasses off, then rubbed them with his shirttail. He wasn’t typically attracted to big girls, yet there was something about her. Something had made him ask her out, and not just her resemblance to Charlotte.
He jammed his glasses back on and tossed her coat over a chair. Heavy or no, she’d be attractive even if she didn’t look so much like Charlotte she could be her older, blonder twin. Not model-gorgeous, but with an inner grace that transcended society’s definition of beauty, just like Charlotte’s had. She carried herself with the same quiet confidence Charlotte had. Even her voice bore the huskiness of a longtime smoker—like Charlotte’s had.
And Charlotte had been able to travel in time. The Saturn Society insisted it was impossible to jump into one’s own future, but what if they were wrong?
Tony’s heart curled in on itself at the memory of the woman from the past he’d loved more than he’d thought possible.
She’s. Not. Charlotte.
Charlotte died in 1933. Why had he tortured himself by asking her modern double on a date?
Because he liked Violet. Still, her words were Charlotte’s. My word. Good Heavens. What on earth. Too much coincidence—
“Tony?” Her voice jerked him out of a past better forgotten. “What if someone comes in here while we’re doing this… recovery?”
“Damn, you’re right. I guess I’d better go check us in before I drop.” He grabbed his wallet. Bills and loose change plinged onto the dresser, along with business cards and a joke from his friend Bernie—a condom. “Holy hell.” It wasn’t funny now. He crammed it back into his wallet, hoping Violet didn’t think he’d asked her out expecting to get laid.
Her gaze flicked from the offending item to the money. “Surely that’s plenty—” Her eyes fixed on a ten with the twenty-first century, large portrait. “Oh, dear, that won’t work, will it?” She stifled a yawn. “Hand me my purse, I have a bunch of singles. Maybe together we’ll have enough.”
Tony gave a rueful snort. “Hope no one notices the dates.”
They came up with twenty-six dollars in ones and older fives. Tony slipped the money back into his wallet. When he reached for the business cards, his hand paused.
On top was Chad Everly’s Saturn Society card. Tony grabbed it and shoved it into his wallet, a chill rushing through his body.
He wasn’t exactly on good terms with the time travelers’ organizat
ion. The last time he’d spoken with Everly, six months ago, Everly had left in an uneasy truce.
In 1959, Theodore Pippin would be running the Dayton Saturn Society House. It was unlikely Pippin’s vendetta against those he considered Enemies of Time—like Tony—had diminished. Yet with recovery setting in, there wasn’t a damn thing Tony could do.
Except hope that if Pippin found them, he’d show Violet mercy.
“Twenty hours. I still can’t believe we slept that long,” Violet said as she and Tony ate at the motel room’s little square table.
“That’s nothing.” Tony took a bite of hamburger, the sound of his chewing oddly loud in the motel room, even though he wasn’t eating impolitely. “Go back further, and you could sleep for days.”
“Goodness! But how?” Even as she voiced the question, the knowledge felt familiar. But she had to keep up a good front.
Tony gave a half-shrug as he reached for the fries. “They say it’s sort of like animals in hibernation. All I know is I’m glad you went for food.”
She’d risen a half hour earlier, ravenous and amazed she’d slept for twenty hours. Luckily, two dollars and forty-five cents was enough to buy a couple of burgers and fries from the motel restaurant. The woman who’d taken her order had stared at Violet like she’d grown a second head when she’d ordered a Diet Coke, belatedly realizing it didn’t exist in 1959.
She and Tony both focused on their food, though it could have been greased paper for all Violet tasted. She tried to avoid looking at the bed in which they’d both slept. Her belly twitched. She should have had the propriety to lie on the floor—or ask Tony to.
Nothing happened. She wouldn’t have, even if she hadn’t slept like the dead. They might have shared a bed, but as much as she longed to, they hadn’t touched.
She yearned to find out if the reality lived up to her dreams. She knew exactly how he’d feel in her arms. The way he’d feel as he moved inside her when they’d make love—
Her face heated. Violet! For shame! On a first date, for crying out loud!
She cast an abashed glance at him, but he was engrossed in his food. She was not that kind of woman. She might not remember her past, but this she knew. Never mind that other women, including her roommate Stephanie, took men to their beds all the time and few thought the worse of them.
Violet dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Mercy, I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry.”
“Recovery’ll do that to you.”
“Recovery from what?”
“Time travel.” He wadded his napkin into a tight ball. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”
She stared at the edge of the table, gripping her dress. A sensation of doom settled over her, heavy enough to push her through the floor, and realization trickled over her skin in a cold sweat. The familiar dizzy spells. Her sense all along that they were something frightening, so much that every time one hit, she gripped the chair, her desk, the wall, anything, to stay grounded. Because she could travel in time. She had done it—before. Before that day six years ago.
The day something terrible happened. Something so terrible she had no memory of it. Something to do with Tony. And there was no way on earth she could tell him. Not when there was a good chance she’d killed someone.
“No.” She wiped her mouth, though it was already clean. “But... how did this happen? How did we go back in time?”
“We thought about it. For people with this... ability, that’s all it takes.”
Her head spun. Not like the time travel dizzy spell, but like she’d climbed on an amusement park ride that was spiraling out of control. A high-pitched roar filled her head.
Because she knew this.
She forced herself to speak. Sound surprised. “When- how- have you always been able to travel in time?”
“No.” He rose and paced to the door, but didn’t open it. “Last year. When I fell, in Mexico. I died. Or almost did.” He faced her, his head canted to the side. “You ever heard about people having near death experiences?” She nodded. “Well, that’s what happened to me. I saw my- people I knew who’d died. Then something—someone–pulled me back. That’s how you get the ability. If you’re near death and someone who can time-travel touches you.”
It hit her like a blow to the ribs. She’d been there, thanks to winning a spot on the executives’ company trip a year ago. She’d touched him, when he’d fallen and almost died.
Then he’d disappeared, only to reappear a half hour later, and still near death.
She’d done this to him. And now someone was after her for reasons she couldn’t remember, and because of her, they were after him, too.
The food in her mouth solidified.
He couldn’t know. If he did, wouldn’t he have contacted the authorities?
He turned around and wiped a hand through his short, spiky dark hair. “You must think I’m insane—”
“Then I am too.” She stood and met his eyes. “Because I believe you.” The cars in the parking lot made it hard to refute. So did the old-fashioned telephone beside her (with a dial!), and the news she’d heard on the ancient-looking radio at the restaurant.
But most of all, it was the way the knowledge had clicked into place. Picture a bygone era to go there, focus on the present to stay put. The knowledge, the dizzy spells, the fatigue, were all familiar. From before.
She forced herself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. One thing at a time. First, they had to figure out how they’d live while in 1959, then—
“All I wanted was a nice, normal night out.” Tony stared at his hands.
“It’s not your fault.” His stricken expression made her try to inject some levity. “Unless you’d planned for us to get run off the road and shot at.”
He gave a mirthless laugh. “Sure, that’s all it was, a fancy scheme to give me an excuse to bring you to a dumpy motel in 1959 and...” He swallowed. His expression changed to the strange look she’d often seen when he passed her in the hall at work. The same way he’d looked at her last summer when she’d visited him in the hospital, after he’d disappeared (time traveled?) for three weeks. An expression of pain, sadness, and something else.
Flutters battered her ribcage. She’d never been able to identify what else but it came to her now. Yearning.
The setting sun’s light coming in through the window brought out the hollows in his face. Could he think of her the same way she had about him for so long?
He paced back to the window and the expression faded into the shadows.
If it had been there at all. She joined him at the window. He rested his forehead against the glass. “God, I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who grabbed you. And...” She took a deep breath. “I have no family. No one will miss me except my roommate Stephanie. And work, of course.” She pressed her lips together. It wouldn’t be hard for a potential employer to check her background and find she had none. All she had was the faked birth certificate and Social Security card Stephanie’s ex-husband had obtained for her. “What we need to do now is make the best of this crazy situation and figure out how we’ll eat for the next few days. And where we’ll sleep.” She squared her shoulders. “Is there any way to find... others like you? Someone we could explain our situation to, who might be able to help—”
“No.”
She drew back. “You don’t know any—”
“Not in this time.”
Her eyes flicked to the dresser where he’d emptied his wallet. One of his business cards, the one he’d hastily hidden, had looked familiar. She’d seen that symbol before. The words meant nothing, but words never did. Even Tony’s name hadn’t.
But when she first saw him, his face had made her belly leap in recognition. The logo of the planet Saturn and three stars did the same.
That symbol had meant something to her in her old life. Something important. Something she needed to find out.
Something Tony wasn’t willing to share. If that Saturn organization was
part of her past and she asked him about it, she’d raise suspicion.
Outside, the Paradise Motel sign flickered to life in the deepening twilight. Tony moved away from the window, shaking his head. “I wasn’t ever going to do this again. And now I’ve dragged you into it—”
“We’ll manage. Tomorrow I’ll ask if they could use help with the cleaning. Or in the restaurant.” She stared down at herself. Though modestly long, her filthy dress with its laser-burnt hem would hardly impress a would-be boss.
Tony started to say something, but she dropped her hand to his arm, silencing him. “Don’t blame yourself.”
Her gaze climbed his body until it reached his eyes. The sign illuminated him in a spectral glow, making him appear not quite real, but more the stuff of dreams.
His arm slid around her back, and he traced his fingers up her shoulder blade. Her skin tightened in the line he touched.
He tilted his head, his gaze a caress. “You’re an amazing person. Anyone else... my ex-wife would be hysterical if she went back in time. Hell, the first time I did, I spent half the time trying to convince myself I was imagining it. But you...” He slipped his other arm around her waist. “You just accept it all, crazy as it must sound.”
Her insides were a quivering pile of jelly. She gave a jerky nod behind her. “All of this is pretty convincing.”
His hand tightened on her back and he pulled her closer.
She barely dared to breathe, and lightness swelled in her chest. Lost in his eyes and their light, she moved into the heat his body radiated, the ache to mold herself to him overpowering.
He lowered his face toward hers. Her belly bottomed with desire.
He was going to kiss her.
She stretched up, and her lips met his, moved with his. Her eyes drifted half-closed. Heat flooded her as their mouths moved together, the reality as heavenly as she’d known it would be. She slid her arms around him, reveling in his solidness, his taste, the roughness of his day-old beard, the gentle pressure of his tongue meeting hers...
Time's Enemy: A Romantic Time Travel Adventure (Saturn Society Book 1) Page 38