Jason closed down the weather app on his cell phone and shoved it back into his jeans pocket as he grabbed his jacket from the coat hanger near the front door. “Caris, are you ready to go?” he called out.
Heavy footfalls pounded down the stairs. “In a minute,” she snapped.
“Geez, why so worked up?”
Caris dropped her backpack to the floor with a thud. “Oh, I don’t know,” she cocked her head, “maybe the fact we just got home, and now, here we are, rushing back to Maine to fall down this nightmare of a rabbit hole all over again.”
Jason released his grip on the front door. “I know how you feel, Car. But Kennedy said something’s up, and we both need to be there to talk this through.”
“I thought they were going to get Kennedy’s car and come right back so we could make plans. Why is everything always so rushed?” She sighed. “I’m not ready.”
Jason walked across the entry and pulled her into a hug. “I know. And truth be told, I’m not ready either. The idea of what we all went through still hasn’t sunk in.” He shivered; the memory of having to kill a man to keep the timeline straight still haunted his dreams. “But, it’s not like we can control when or where we’ll be headed next. The bad guys don’t exactly take breaks or toss out hints. Trust me, that I do know.” He pulled back and winked, glancing down at his sidearm.
“Well, dammit, they should,” she teased, smiling appreciatively at the slight ease in tension. “I hope that after this little recon mission, we’ll be able to come home and actually regroup and finalize our plans. I have things I need to finish for school, and to be honest, I miss the normalcy of our day-to-day lives.”
Jason laughed. “The fact that you can use the word normal when talking about anything to do with our lives is a true testament to your optimism.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She shrugged. “Even our mundane lives aren’t normal.” Gazing into the mirror that hung by the front door, she studied the face the world viewed as Caris. But when looking back to Jason, aka Jeremiah, they saw each other as their true selves—a little side effect of the spell Trin used to eliminate Henrich. They all wore two faces, and in reality, many more thanks to their soul journeys and the multiple lifetimes they’d lived.
Jason put a hand on her shoulder. “Where’d you go?”
“Just thinking about everything, and how we never seem to get to a place of peace. We’re always left waiting for the next life to begin.”
“We’ll get there,” Jason sighed.
“Thanks for talking me down, J.” Caris grabbed her ball cap off the rack, sliding her auburn ponytail through the adjustable hole in the back. “I’m ready to go, but don’t expect me to drive. I’ve got papers to grade and a serious nap to take.”
Jason barked out a laugh. “Okay. You got it.”
***
Jason’s knees popped as he stood and stretched after their rushed six-hour drive. “I’ll get the bags, you go ahead up to the room,” he told Caris, nodding toward the hotel.
In between side-to-side torso twists, Caris lifted her chin, acknowledging she’d get to it once she was able to properly move again. All of these back-and-forth road trips were taking their toll. “Hey, before I go up, do you know exactly what we’re supposed to be talking about here?” She continued her stretches, reaching over her head then switching to the other side before shaking out both of her arms.
Jason lifted the last bag from the back of the Jeep, pausing to rest it on the bumper as he mulled over her question. “I’m not sure. I assume we’ll discuss our past and how that will affect the future, or maybe the opposite … we’ll talk about our present and future here after we go back and change the past.” He threw his hands in the air. “Honestly, I have no idea, but it all makes my head hurt.”
“You and me both.” Caris snagged her own bag from the ground and walked toward the hotel, dreading whatever this conversation was supposed to entail. “Where are the girls waiting for us?” she asked, stopping mid-step halfway through the lobby as an unseen energy pulled at her from the hotel’s restaurant.
“In their room. They snagged the connecting one as well, so you and Kennedy could have your own space.”
Caris turned back to the restaurant and frowned. There was something there. Something … familiar.
“Come on. Let’s go on up and get settled, then we can come back down to eat.” Jason continued on to the elevator, pushing the up button while Caris remained locked in place.
Through squinted eyes, she stared at the restaurant, sensing out its energy until the elevator bell dinged. Stepping inside, she shook her head in an effort to chase away the chill inching up her spine. She rode up in silence, exiting on the third floor, then followed Jason halfway down the hall before hearing her sister’s voice ring out.
“Good, you made it. Come on in,” Kennedy greeted them both before they even had a chance to knock on the door. “Jason, you’re next door with Trin.” She pointed through the opening to the adjoining room.
Caris crossed to the farthest bed and tossed down her bag. “Okay, so what’s up? Why did I have to come all the way here to have a chat?”
After depositing his bags, Jason and Trin returned from the other room, holding hands. “Can we please save whatever this is until after dinner?” he asked. “I’m starving, and I’d say from Caris’s interest in the restaurant downstairs, she is, too.”
Full of nervous energy, Caris shifted from foot to foot—her level of attention downstairs had nothing to do with food.
“Sure,” Kennedy replied. “I could eat.”
With the decision made, they headed back down the hall. The updated grey-beige flooring absorbed their footfalls and they walked in silence to the elevator. Exiting into the lobby, the sound of the gathering crowd caused Kennedy to pick up her pace, rushing forward to make sure their names were on the waiting list before the dinner rush hit. “It’ll be a few minutes,” she reported back, joining them in one of the lobby’s seating areas.
Trin chatted with Jason, asking about their drive up, while Kennedy was, as usual, people watching—a side effect of her job with the FBI, as well as her protector status within the family. Caris, however, sat still, her eyes glued to the restaurant’s entrance. The energy she felt before was still there, pulling her forward like a fish on a hook.
“Hardy, party of four.”
The group rose and followed the hostess to a large, semi-circle booth in the back. Glasses clanked and pots rattled from the kitchen, but the sound of Caris’s beating heart filled her ears as she stared at the table in front of them and directly at the spitting image of Lionel Epps.