The first patient moved toward the door before Sydney could get clear of it, forcing her to step around him. She gave Alex a stiff smile as he welcomed the man inside. The lives they had inherited were demanding their attention once more.
All the way back to the big house, Sydney puzzled over Alex’s statement.
Edward must live.
Edward was the high king of England, she recalled from the hasty reading she had done before the jump. That was one fact the history books had been clear about. They had also been very clear about the fact that the Vikings slaughtered him and his army down to the very last man, before pulling back behind Offa’s Dyke and declaring all lands to the west of the dyke to the sea as their own and naming it Gronoya. The Green Isle.
Edward was to die, not too many days from now. So why had Alex said he must live? He knew far better than she that messing with time had consequences no one could anticipate. Horrible, life changing consequences.
She must have misunderstood him.
Chapter Fifteen
Brody pushed the iPad away from him with a frustrated sigh. There was nothing in the history sources he could find online that shed any light at all on why Alex had forced himself back in time.
Edward must live and peace must be found. The direction buried in the manuscript was clear enough. Except that every historical source surrounding the events in the tenth century said that Edward had died at the hands of the Vikings. They had butchered Edward’s sister, Aethelfreda, then come after the king himself because he was the last and strongest opposition to Viking invasion and settlement, which was what they had really wanted. Land to live upon.
Once Edward was dead, they had claimed the western half of England for themselves. Gronoya was an indisputable fact. He only had to look at the news for confirmation.
Edward must live.
Fleetingly, he wondered if Alex had gone back there to…would he dare? Change history? No, the outcome of a change like that could be deadly. Alex wouldn’t be that stupid, not after years of listening to him and Veris and Taylor talk about the near disasters they had caused simply by jumping back in the first place. To deliberately change things would create ripples—no, waves of change. Tsunamis of destruction.
Brody wrinkled his nose. Was he imagining that acrid smell?
He looked around. There was no sound, nothing moving. Still, the hairs on the back of his neck raised almost painfully.
He got to his feet. It was nearly three in the morning. Veris was upstairs, monitoring the sleeping three. Taylor had taken Marit and the twins back home to sleep hours ago. The wood paneled rooms of the house were silent and still.
And yet….
Cautiously, he moved out into the big hallway and looked up the stairs toward the bedroom door. It was closed. Nothing moved up there, either.
Then a soft whoomp sounded, accompanied by the tinkle of breaking glass. The sounds were muffled by the bedroom door.
Brody moved up the stairs at maximum speed, his heart jumping all by itself. He thrust open the bedroom door and staggered back as the heat and flames leapt out at him.
“Shut the door!” Veris shouted. “You’re feeding the fire!”
Brody spotted him in the far corner of the room, beating at flames that licked along the edge of the bed, perilously close to Sydney’s still form. The flames were all around Veris, climbing up the wall with ferocious and fear-inducing speed.
There was another smash of glass behind Brody and he heard the same flat woofing sound. An orange glow leapt up from the dining room doorway and flames ran out into the hallway, zooming across the carpet as if they were sprinting.
His retreat was cut off.
Calmly, he stepped into the bedroom and shut the door. The flames in here were crackling upward toward the ceiling. Even the paneling in the ceiling was engulfed in blue tongues of fire.
Veris was working like a machine, the blanket in his hands smacking down on the flames as they tried to claw at him.
“It’s too late!” Brody shouted.
Veris glanced at him. He shook his head and kept beating.
“It’s all around you!”
The fire was roaring, a hungry beast. Fire was one of the few things that could kill a vampire, if it was intense enough. Whoever had done this had known that. The accelerant was making the fire burn with almost white flames.
Brody clamped down on the fear rising in his chest. If he crossed the bed itself, it would be the shorter path. There was no direct route to reach Veris that didn’t take him through a wall of flames.
Veris was relentlessly working to subdue the fire around the sleeping forms. He wasn’t giving up. Of course he wouldn’t give up. The thought made Brody’s fear leap as high as the flames.
Overhead, the blue-burning flames flickered. Timbers groaned.
Time was running out.
That pushed him into action. He moved at full speed, giving it everything he had to push himself through the flames. He jumped over the bed in two large strides.
Veris looked up. His eyes were glazed with concentration. He was focused on saving the three on the bed. Either he had not recognized the danger he was in himself, or he refused to acknowledge it.
Brody slammed into him. At that speed, even his slightly lighter weight was enough to jolt Veris off his feet. Brody wrapped his arms around the bigger man and kept moving, driving them both forward.
Veris’ back hit the big window first, breaking the glass. They kept going, falling forward and down to the ground twenty-four feet below.
* * * * *
Brody came to with the scent of grass in his nose and the roar of a massive fire nearby. As he blinked, pulling his wits together, strong hands caught his shoulder and his knee and he was rolled onto his back.
He groaned. His back stung.
“You’re still burning,” Veris said. He slapped at Brody’s legs.
Amid the crackling of the flames above them, something heavy collapsed. The rest of the house shuddered and groaned at the stress. Far off, sirens sounded. There were shouts from closer by. The nearest neighbors were three hundred yards away and safe from the flames soaring dozens of feet into the night.
The heat of the fire was terrific, drying Brody’s skin. He sat up slowly and Veris helped him.
“Are you all right?” Brody asked him, running his gaze over him.
Veris settled heavily on the grass next to him and looked up at the house. “No, I’m not all right,” he said softly.
Brody dug in his back pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen was starred and cracked. He couldn’t get it to boot up at all. “Dead,” he said flatly and tossed it. “Phone Taylor, Veris. They could go after her next.”
“This wasn’t meant for us,” Veris said. “Not directly.” He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his shirt anyway and thumbed the speed dial.
Brody stared up at the two big windows where the bedroom had been. He felt ill. Nothing could survive that.
“Are you safe?” Veris said flatly into the phone, cutting right to the chase.
Brody heard Taylor’s voice, high with alarm, as she questioned him.
“Someone just firebombed the house,” Veris replied.
Another question. Brody knew what it was without hearing it.
“I’m fine,” he said, leaning toward the phone and speaking into it.
Taylor spoke again and Veris’ shoulders fell. “No, they’re not okay at all,” he said softly. “Don’t come near here, Taylor. Until we know what happened, I want you as far away from this as possible. Guard the kids until we get there. I love you.”
He dropped the phone to the grass between them and watched the flames leaping and pirouetting in fat troupes. The whole house was ablaze now. The fire department would be too late to do anything other than pick through the remains.
Brody closed his eyes.
Veris rested his hand on the back of his neck. “Are you recovered?” he asked gently.
Brod
y sighed. “Physically, sure,” he said dryly.
“I want to look around quickly before the police and fire department get here,” Veris said. “You and I will be able to spot anything that tells us who did this, while the police may not recognize it…and probably shouldn’t see it, either.”
Brody nodded and got to his feet. They split up, each circling around the burning house. Brody found it first, sitting in the mailbox at the front of the sweeping driveway. He tucked it into his jeans pocket and caught up with Veris at the back of the house.
He showed him the stiff cream-colored card. It was blank and there was a symbol embossed into the stock itself.
Veris ran his finger over the outlines.
“I don’t recognize it,” Brody said. The sirens were very close now. “We should get out of here.” It would be better to avoid any bureaucratic entanglements. There would be enough hysteria over the three bodies they would find, along with evidence of medical equipment and IV poles…. His gut tightened. “This is a mess,” he breathed as he realized how the media and the authorities would react.
“It’s a fucking disaster,” Veris said flatly. He lifted the card. “I know this symbol. It’s what the Council use as a calling card when they act directly to ‘correct’ a situation they don’t like.”
“The Council? They just tried to take us out? Why?”
“I can guess.” Veris glanced around. They were standing on the long lawn at the back of the house. From the sides the flashing lights of the fire engines were showing, lighting up the shrubbery and bushes. “Let’s get out of here and go somewhere we can think.”
They ran for Brody’s car, which was parked on the hardstand at the back of the house. There was a private lane from there onto the street on the other side of the block. Brody got the car onto Santa Monica Boulevard before he spoke.
“Alex and Rafe and Sydney…they’re still in the past. What happens if they try to jump back now?”
“They’ll jump back to their deaths,” Veris said. He was staring out the window, watching the headlights of other cars pass them. His voice was remote. “That’s why the Council did this. Somehow, they’ve learned that the three of them were time jumping and for a reason I can’t figure, this time they felt threatened by it.”
Brody almost jumped. “I was looking at the manuscript just before the fire broke out and wondering if Alex really had gone back to do what the manuscript said he should do. If he has, then he will be changing the past. I don’t imagine the Council would like that very much.”
“No one would.” Veris shifted in the seat to look at him directly. “Something scared them into trying to root out the problem at the source.”
Brody sighed. “So now what? We have to let the three of them die for the sake of preserving history?”
Veris shook his head. “The Council has moved openly against us. Gloves are off, Brody. It’s time we indulged in a little creative history changing of our own.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sydney came to wakefulness at the first creak of the door. It was wedged shut as locks had yet to be invented, yet someone was pushing it steadily and slowly open. That took strength few men had.
She pulled the knife out from under her pillow, slid to the floor and padded over to where the door was easing open. Moonlight and deep nighttime chill swept through the door.
Silently, she kicked the wedge out and opened the door.
Alex straightened up and looked around and over his shoulders, checking for observers. Then he beckoned with his finger. In the moonlight, with his white tunic, he seemed to glow.
Sydney held up her finger, then moved back to the sleeping shelf and slipped on her boots. She was wearing the kirtle that Alfwynn had given her. It made a suitable bed gown when she was sleeping in a room without a lock and without a guard. She wound her belt over the top of it and thrust her knife into it. She took the heavy cloak off the peg and wrapped it around her. The gunna was too heavy and cumbersome for sneaking through the night.
She left her hair unbound and didn’t bother with a veil that would flutter and draw the eye.
Alex shut the door behind her as she stepped out, then took her hand. He moved through the houses silently, hugging the shadows provided by the moon. He had quickly learned the layout of Chirbury, for he led her almost directly through to the terraced palisades.
The night was cool, but not uncomfortable. As Alex helped her climb the terraces to reach the wall, she could hear the wind in the trees beyond the wall. An owl hooted, sounding lonely and forlorn. Nothing else seemed to be moving.
She looked over her shoulder as they climbed the last terrace. The gatehouse was far away, over to the west. This was the north side of the burgh. In front of the gatehouse, on the open ground, were the dark shadows and glowing coals of Llewelyn’s army camp. They had arrived at sunset, sending a collective shiver through the town. Yet they had made no attempt to storm the gates or start a battle. They had made camp, instead.
Alex gave a soft whistle that sounded just like a bird’s and looked up. After a moment, a bundle of rope sailed over the top of the fence. It snagged on the pointed timbers of the palisade and the end of it tumbled to the ground.
Alex spread the rope apart and Sydney understood. A much longer length had been knotted to form a crude ladder. The middle of the ladder was caught on the points of the fence. She was pleased. She might have been strong enough to jump for the top and haul herself over, but the sharp staves at the top made it perilous. This took most of the danger away.
She pulled her kirtle up and out of the way, balling it into a knot on her hip, then climbed slowly to the top. The rope kept trying to twist and spin her around. As soon as she reached the top, she felt Alex pulling on the ladder beneath. He was climbing up right behind her.
The ground on the other side of the fence was cleared of trees for a bowshot distance and standing at the foot of the fence was Rafe. He had hold of the other end of the rope ladder and was looking up. When he saw her, he smiled.
Sydney carefully straddled over the fence and climbed down the other side. Rafe plucked her from the rope when she still had five feet to go, put her on her feet and turned her to face him. She caught her breath as he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.
His heart was thundering.
Then he lifted her chin and kissed her. Sydney wound her arms around his neck and happily kissed him back.
“I’m so sorry,” she said when she could breathe again. “Did I hurt you? You said to kill you and I was moving so fast, I think it went deep—”
Rafe caught her face in his hands. “I’m fine. I’m standing here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. You did what you had to do. Sound carries on a still night like this, so wait until we’re in among the trees.” He let her go and picked up her hand, just as Alex had done.
Alex jumped down from the top of the fence, landing lightly on his feet, as if he had only jumped a few inches. He brought the rope ladder down with him, after hauling it up behind him. “In the trees?” he asked Rafe softly.
Rafe nodded. “Half a mile. There is a fire and food for Sydney.” He tugged on her hand, drawing her with him. He helped her down the terraces on this side, then across the open space and into the darkly shadowed trees. Beneath the trees, their footsteps crackled and popped as they stepped on dried out leaves and undergrowth. Rafe and Alex didn’t seem to make nearly the same amount of noise she did. It had to be their vampire natures and their super-vision that let them sneak through the forest so silently.
After a few minutes, her vision adjusted and she could see enough to pick her way through the undergrowth. Rafe didn’t let go of her hand. Alex trod along beside them.
Ahead, she could see the tiny flicker of light that she guessed was the fire that Rafe had spoken of. It grew larger as they got closer, until the low flames were unmistakable.
It was in the center of a tiny clearing and there were
leather saddle blankets spread beside it. A horse stood head down and slack-hipped, by the trees.
Rafe let out a deep breath. “We can talk here,” he said. “There’s nothing for miles in all directions except Chirbury and everyone is asleep, anyway.”
“We can talk later,” Alex said flatly. “First…” He pulled Rafe to him and kissed him, his fist tangled in Rafe’s cloak, holding him steady.
Rafe smoothed his hand around the back of Alex’s head, giving as good as he got. Sydney caught her breath all over again. She never tired of watching the two of them together. It was a very private pleasure and one she treasured.
There was no one nearby to watch them. They were free of their roles for a few heavenly minutes. She slipped the cloak off, leaving her in the thin kirtle, and went over to the pair of them. When Alex let Rafe go, she cupped his face and drew him toward her. Rafe came willingly, sweeping her into his arms. His kiss was as thorough as the first and this time, she could feel Alex pressing up against her back. He pulled her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck, making her shiver.
When Rafe let her go, Alex turned her and kissed her, while Rafe slid his hands over her from behind, stirring her body and prodding her nerve ends awake. She could feel him behind her, a solid wall of strength and dependability.
She loved standing between them this way. Once, she would never have thought such an erotic thing could be so layered with feelings. While her body was fizzing and filling with growing arousal because of the men standing before and behind her, her heart spilled over with pure love, overwhelming her.
Soon, the arousal surpassed the depth of her feelings. Her body tingled with the touch of their hands and her pussy felt empty, while her clit throbbed and her breasts, too.
Alex stepped away and stripped off his tunic, leaving his chest bare to gleam in the moonlight filtering through the trees. The front of the drawstring trousers he wore was tented. “I want nothing between us this time,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.
“Let me,” Sydney said. She pulled at the knot at the waist of his trousers. The drawstring unraveled and the trousers sagged.
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