Kiss Across Tomorrow (Kiss Across Time Book 8)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Everyone relaxed again, when Veris did not react badly to the mention of Brody’s name.

  “Look at us,” Veris said. “We live more like humans, with their habit of clinging together for support and survival. We are a group with a common purpose.”

  “Time travel?” Rafe proposed.

  “Time travel brought us together, although it doesn’t bind us. If all of us never jumped again, we would still remain close.”

  “You think the Council is threatened by how we live,” Sydney said.

  Veris nodded. “Because we are friends, because we are as close as family, because we help each other…” He grimaced. “Especially when one of us is having a melt-down—”

  Rafe chuckled.

  Alex, though, raised his head. “Like when one of us dives into a chemical rabbit hole and can’t come up for air?”

  Veris nodded. “All of that,” he said. “We talk. We compare notes. And now, we’re asking questions. I think we worry the Council. I think they fear us and the questions we could raise.”

  “If you do ask these questions, they will be forced to act,” Rafe pointed out.

  “Good,” Veris said shortly. “By reacting, they will reveal themselves.”

  “You’re going after them,” Sydney said.

  Veris met her gaze. “We’re going after them. I want answers, Sydney. I want to know if they really have been manipulating my life and the ones I love to serve some antiquated creed.”

  The room was silent, as everyone studied Veris. Taylor could feel their surprise.

  “How, exactly, do you plan to do this?” Alex asked.

  Rafe sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “By getting me to reach out to them,” he said. He looked at Veris. “Right?”

  “Only if you’re willing to help,” Veris said. “The alternative is to do something which will get their attention and make them come to me.”

  “Which would be what?” Sydney coaxed.

  Veris shrugged. “They don’t like us getting too inventive with time. If I screwed up a timeline badly enough, they’d come with all guns blazing.”

  Taylor gripped his hand. “No, it would be too dangerous, Veris! Time isn’t something to be played with. You understand that better than any of us.”

  Veris’ fingers squeezed hers. “Which is why I’m hoping Rafe says yes.”

  Rafe sighed. “Of course I will help, you great lummox. After all that talk about support and survival and clinging together, from you of all people, how can I say no?”

  Taylor’s life shifted again. Her days and nights were filled with work, with interesting events and people, because Veris was in proactive mode, determined to find answers about the Council.

  Rafe sent out his call to the Council, to start the ball rolling. “It’s a dead drop,” he warned Veris as he wrote the note to leave in a bank vault in Switzerland. “I have no idea how often it is checked. It could be months before I get a response.”

  “Or never, if they think you’re with the opposition now,” Sydney added.

  Rafe spread his hands. “Either way, it will take time.”

  “Time, I’ve got,” Veris said. “While we’re waiting, though, let’s take an informal poll.”

  “From whom, about what?” Alex asked.

  “From everyone we know,” Veris said. “Alex, you’ve been around since the First Crusade. Rafe, you were a sprat in Iberia in the fifth century. I’m a few years older than that. Remi was turned during the Reign of Terror, after the French Revolution, two hundred plus years ago. Between us, we must have come across nearly every vampire ever made.”

  “How would you know, if the Council has been encouraging us for millennia to stay apart and not ask questions?” Sydney said. “Maybe there are more vampires than humans. No one knows.”

  “It’s time we did know,” Veris said grimly. “You can’t mine answers from a vacuum. We need information.” He touched Taylor’s shoulder. “Luckily, we have one of the world’s foremost researchers handy.”

  Alex cleared his throat, looking insulted.

  “You get to diagnose the data, Doctor Karim,” Veris said.

  “That’s better,” Alex said, his fake scowl clearing.

  Taylor’s days burgeoned with work, after that. The upstairs office which had been Veris’ since they moved to Martha’s Vineyard now became hers, too. Veris installed a big desk in the other corner from his, and brought Taylor a new, powerful computer to crunch data with.

  And they went calling on old friends.

  Veris didn’t want to leave the house unattended at night, when the humans living in it were asleep. “Lateral jumps chew up as much time here as we spend at the other end. I won’t leave them here alone, while they sleep.”

  Visiting every vampire Veris had ever come across in his long lifetime became their day job. While Marit worked on mapping alternative worlds for Sydney and the twins went to their casual day jobs, Veris and Taylor spent their work hours jumping across to, or back to, the last known location of other vampires, to find them and interview them.

  Veris asked each vampire two major questions. What did they know about the Council? And what other vampires did they know and where could Veris and Taylor find them?

  Taylor found the project absorbing and surprisingly complex. Veris worked backward through his crystal-clear memories, so the earliest interviews were with vampires living in contemporary times. The initial interviews gave Taylor a huge number of secondary contacts to follow up with.

  The confirmed and factual information about the Council, though, remained minimal. It surprised many of the contemporary vampires that the Council still existed. Or they thought the Council was a myth which had not yet died out.

  “We know differently because we’ve been drawing the Council’s attention,” Sydney said. “Keep going, Veris. All of you. In the meantime, I need some jumpers, Veris. The mapping has been sidelined, thanks to you.”

  There was not enough of them to do the work of two major projects. Veris no longer considered Sydney’s ambition to map alternative worlds a waste of time, although Sydney and he agreed that learning about the Council was the higher priority.

  “We need more people,” Sydney said. “If there really are thousands of the Blood out there, as the early numbers are suggesting, we should recruit some of them.”

  “Because that won’t bring the Council running at all,” Rafe said darkly.

  Finding vampires whom they trusted enough to reveal the facts about time travel was a stumbling block which remained unsolvable. “So we do what work we can, as we have the time to do it,” Veris said. “We all have the luxury of time.”

  The interviews of vampires became far more interesting when they moved back through time to the last place Veris remembered seeing them. Taylor realized she was getting snapshots of Veris’ life, which filled the spaces between the stories of his past he had already shared with her. She was sampling those times and places for herself. When Veris mentioned someone from his past, she had an image and a personality to go with the name.

  There were curious gaps in the timeline, still. Taylor drew Veris’ attention to it. “Five vampires in ten years, then nothing for thirty years. Statistically, it’s an oddity, Veris,” she pointed out. “You really went thirty years without meeting another of the Blood?”

  Veris looked at the timeline she had been building on the screen, then at her. “I met them in those times. I’m just not ready to go back there yet,” he said. “I don’t think you are, either.”

  Taylor’s heart lurched. He was talking about Brody. Brody was there with Veris, in those gaps. If they went back, they would see Brody again.

  She felt ill just thinking about it. She didn’t ask Veris again about the larger gaps.

  Instead, she buried herself in the work, in watching the catalog of vampires grow and the patterns of migrations and movement settle. The very lonely life most of the Blood led made her uneasy and grateful at once.

  “I don
’t know how you withstood it,” she told Veris after interviewing a woman who had lived for three hundred years in the same cave in the wilderness of the Utah mountains. The woman fed from animals and the occasional human who stumbled over her location. She was so unused to speaking, she could barely form words.

  “I didn’t withstand it at all,” Veris said. “I had Brody, now I have you. Brody taught Alex to keep people close. I taught Rafe the same thing, when he was still human but knew what I was. I think we’re all still alive because we embraced humans and lived as humans as much as possible. None of us is warped and crazy like that poor woman in her cave.”

  “Remi nearly was,” Taylor murmured. “Only, Neven saved him.”

  “Our Neven and London saved him. If you talk to Remi about it, he’ll tell you most of the warping was a result of the original Kristijan.”

  Taylor shuddered. “Is that why the Council doesn’t like us associating with each other? We corrupt each other?”

  Veris pulled her into his arms, his hands sliding down to the hem of her skirt and her bare thigh beneath. “You can corrupt me all you want.” His lips brushed her mouth. “At least, you can try.”

  “You moved beyond redemption centuries ago, Veris. Ah—” She sucked in a breath as his hand moved higher, his fingers pressing against her pussy, which called an early halt to work, that day.

  Veris insisted that the end of the artificial human work day should mark the end of their workday, too. In the evenings, they reverted to human habits. Housekeeping, cooking, dinner and time with Marit and the twins.

  After dinner, there were more pleasant human affairs to tend to. Walks in the twilight. Shopping. Movies. The twins had settled on Harvard as their college of choice, and plans for September were made. Trips to Boston to sort out housing and registration and more became frequent.

  “Explain again why you two can’t just jump there and back each morning and night?” Marit demanded after a late evening return from the city.

  Aran shook his head. “I know it’s only four years. Only, I want to live like anyone else. No offense, Far. We’ve never been fully immersed in the human world. We’ve grown up with one foot in your world, knowing we’re different and must hide it. This gives us a chance to relax and just be human. We won’t have to guard our tongues all the time. We won’t have to invent lies and avoid people who might notice the wrong details.”

  “You’re entitled to have that experience,” Veris assured him. “Only, you still won’t be able to let down your guard. You get that, don’t you? You are different and normal humans have a history of treating anyone too different from them as a threat.”

  Aran nodded soberly. “We’ve both learned it well. If anything goes wrong, we can be back here in a heartbeat.” He grinned. “We’ll be like real human young adults. We’ll keep coming back home, long after you’ve kicked us out.”

  Veris cuffed his head. Gently.

  At night, once the twins and Marit were asleep, which for people their ages was very late at night, Taylor and Veris had the house to themselves. And then…ah, then. Before Christmas, Taylor had dreaded the long hours before humans stirred. Now, though, Veris was there to fill the hours.

  His appetite for pleasure was voracious now it was just the two of them. He could focus purely on Taylor and did so with his usual all-in approach.

  They didn’t always remain in the house. Veris had a memory stuffed with locations and vistas, times and places, which he used to surprise and delight her. None of them came close to the magical evening of the skater’s ball, yet they were all delightful in their own way. Isolated tropical beaches. A house on a mountainside. A luxury cabin cruiser on Lake Geneva.

  They went shopping in Paris and London and Sydney, Australia. They watched sunsets over the Sahara, the Serengeti and the Amazon.

  Despite all her expectations, Taylor’s life hummed along smoothly—as long as she didn’t think about Brody too often, or for too long.

  Only she had forgotten she was not the only person in the house who missed him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aran campaigned for weeks for a family marathon viewing of all the Star Wars movies before Veris caved and agreed. Veris found most movies unrealistic and grew bored watching them. “It’s not just the history-based stories they get wildly wrong,” he explained at the dinner table when Aran was pressing about Star Wars once more. “Most movies are action-based, with super heroes and…” He wrinkled his nose and grimaced. “They’re so wrong about what it’s like to lead a double life, it’s laughable.”

  He better tolerated smaller movies, intimate films with human themes, which were bereft of unrealistic fight scenes and violence. Aran’s nagging, though, forced Veris to capitulate.

  Early on Friday night, they made popcorn and hot apple cider. Then they settled in front of the TV over the fireplace, prepared to watch until they couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Medical lectures sound more exciting, right now,” Veris breathed into Taylor’s ear as he settled her against him and put his arm around her.

  She hid her smile. “Shh!”

  The first movie started, with its byline about a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Aran glanced over his shoulder at Veris and Taylor and grinned. He was sprawled on the rug in front of the coffee table. “Betcha we could get there, though.”

  “You’d need a bookmark,” Taylor pointed out, letting herself laugh this time. “Do you know anyone who remembers that time?”

  “George Lucas?” Aran suggested.

  Then Taylor saw Alannah’s face and her amusement vanished. She scrabbled for the remote and paused the movie. “Alannah, what’s wrong?”

  Alannah scrunched herself up in the corner of the armchair. Her eyes were glittering with tears. “This is all so…perfect!” she cried. “We’re the perfect family, right here, right now. Look at us!”

  Taylor’s heart stirred. She didn’t understand. Alannah was not weeping with joy. “Why does that make you sad, honey?”

  “Because Athair isn’t here and he should be!” Alannah cried.

  Taylor froze. She was unable to think of what to say. No alleviating assurances came to her. All the pretty words a mother might tell her kids about how their father was taking a time out, that he loved them anyway…it all jammed in her throat.

  Alannah’s tears dripped. “He’s not coming back, is he?”

  Marit turned her gaze to Taylor. Her eyes also glittered. Marit knew the truth.

  Veris’ big hand settled on Taylor’s back. Comforting her. Supporting her. “We don’t know for sure, Alannah,” he said.

  She thumped the arm of the chair. “You’ve given up! You’re not looking for him anymore, are you?”

  Aran bent his knees to his chest and put his chin on his knees. He looked as unhappy as Alannah. “You’re too happy, you and Far,” he breathed. “You’ve moved on.”

  Taylor wanted to weep. She wished she could. She felt guilty and heartbroken at once. “It’s not like that,” she whispered. “Brody made a choice. We’re trying to abide by his decision. We’re trying to figure out how to live without him.”

  “Then you have given up,” Alannah said wretchedly. “How could you?” She flung herself out of the chair and raced upstairs, bursting into noisy sobs halfway up.

  Veris shifted Taylor onto the next cushion and got to his feet. “I’ll talk to her.” He touched Taylor’s cheek and moved swiftly after Alannah.

  Taylor put her face in her hands. She couldn’t bear to meet Marit’s or Aran’s mute expressions.

  “How long is it since you searched the timescape, Mom?” Marit asked. “You stopped weeks ago, didn’t you?”

  Taylor lifted her head. “How long should I search?”

  Aran shrugged, his expression puzzled, as if the answer should be obvious. “Forever.”

  Taylor stared at him. Her heart was loose and thudding hard. “You would have me find him and drag him back here, the last place he wants to be, just bec
ause you miss him?”

  Aran squirmed. She saw his guilt and discomfort. Only, he didn’t drop his gaze. His jaw rippled in a way which reminded her of Brody and her heart ached all over again. “All I know,” Aran said, “is that you guys love each other—more than any other people or parents or anyone I know. I don’t get it, Mom. I don’t know how any of you could walk away from the other two. I grew up hearing from kids at school about their parents fighting and leaving each other and divorcing and I knew it would never happen to mine. I knew it, like I know how to time jump. It’s just a part of me. So I don’t get how you can give up like this, either.” He got to his feet.

  “Aran…” Taylor said, her agony twisting her voice.

  He shook his head. “Don’t come after me. I want to be alone.” He marched upstairs.

  Taylor turned helplessly to Marit. “And you, too, I suppose?”

  Marit shook her head. “The twins are still young.” She put the cushion she had been hugging to one side. “I remember you dying, Mom. Twice. I know nothing lasts forever. It gives me a perspective they don’t have yet.” Marit shifted forward so she was sitting on the edge of the cushion and closer to Taylor. “You’re still wearing Athair’s ring,” she said quietly.

  Taylor looked down at the locked-together twin curves of emeralds and amethysts. Veris had slid the two halves of the ring back onto her finger, not long after they had returned from Norway. He touched her heart, then his, when the ring was back in place. “Because he’s still here,” he said, “and always will be.”

  Taylor looked up at Marit. “I will always wear it,” she said. “Veris insisted, too.”

  Marit nodded. “That’s why I won’t dump all over you. I miss him, Mom. It’s as if there’s a big hole in my chest, most days. Then there are days when Aran says something that comes out exactly the way Athair would have said it. Those are the days when the hole swallows me up.” She wiped her cheeks quickly. “It’s not your fault, though,” she added. “It’s nobody’s fault. Not even his.”