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Anthony leapt through the portal and had but a few moments to marvel at the swirling vortex of colors before he slammed face first into a Turkish rug.
“Welcome to 1935.” Angus sat in a red-leather armchair, legs crossed and his emerald eyes alight with humor.
Compared to the Angus in the twenty-first century, the nineteen-thirties version was a stark contrast. His hair was cropped short, and he wore a creased business suit so common of the era.
Kahli propped her elbow on the high back as she stood beside her husband. Her wide-legged, double-button sailor trousers and short-sleeved knit top were like a movie star from Hollywood’s hey-day.
Damn, if those fashions didn’t bring back memories.
“I believe Korban will soon follow.” She smiled. “Ya might want to get up so—”
“Oomph!”
Anthony grunted and rolled to his side to dump Korban off his back. He stood and assessed what appeared to be the cabin of a ship. Bookcases lined the cabin wall with tomes any library would kill to possess. Off on the left, a bank of wide-paned windows framed the bustling docks where the ship was moored.
“There has to be a better way to get through that thing.” Korban accepted Anthony’s proffered assistance. He leapt to his feet and faced Angus and Kahli. “Hello. Uh, this is my first time through the portal, but I believe you two already met me a few weeks ago?”
“Aye, lad.” Angus rose and extended his hand.
Korban and Anthony each shook it in turn.
“We’re on a tight schedule.” Angus nodded toward the decorative, carved dining table. Two neatly folded piles of clothes waited beside shoes, belts and matching fedoras. “Everything ye need fer yer errand.”
“I’ll leave you gentleman to it.” Kahli kissed Angus’s cheek before gliding from the cabin and closing the door behind her.
Anthony reached for his clothes and Angus loudly cleared his throat. “Before ye get dressed, ye’ll need to shave.”
“Shave?” Anthony whirled to the wash basin. “Why do—?” Realization dawned and he groaned. “Bugger it all, I used to be clean-shaven in the thirties. Dammit.”
He shuffled to the basin, slung a towel around his neck and sighed. He hadn’t used a straight razor in decades, and by the time he’d wiped the off lather near his ears, he had five dots of styptic powder clotting the cuts on his chin, cheeks and neck.
He quickly changed and then slicked back his hair with the goop Angus provided. No time for haircuts, but the more they blended in with the period, the better off they’d be.
Grabbing his fedora, he trotted after Angus and Korban, who were already out the door and headed up to the top deck. As the warm summer air hit his face, Anthony recoiled from the odors. The fishy docks, the choking smoke and coal-burning stoves that belched black clouds into the sky. “Stick your head in a bag of shite long enough and you won’t smell that either.”
“What was that?” Korban glanced over his shoulder as they thumped down the gang plank.
“Nothing. I forgot how horrible it smelled.” Anthony glanced at the ship and stopped short. Knightly’s Refuge VI was painted on the bow, and he marveled at how the vessel was the same he’d seen in the Army of Light briefing slide. Damn, if this time travel stuff wasn’t a head trip.
He donned his hat and caught up to Angus, striding at a determined pace toward the port entrance. “Where are we?”
“Tilbury Docks.” Angus shoved his hands into his trousers as they navigated through the unloaded cargo and trucks.
“Gods, yes.” Anthony grinned. Though he’d never frequented Tilbury Docks—MacDougal & Son did most of their business out of the Port of London—the scene brought back memories of the years when he and Christine were married.
Although his body had traveled back in time, apparently it had taken his mind a bit to catch up.
Somewhere...in this world...is the younger me, ignorant of the events about to take place.
“Whoa, wait a moment.” Anthony reeled when he recalled how quickly they had to get moving. “We need to get to Burnham-on-Crouch.”
Angus led them down an alley to an abrupt dead end.
Panic threatened, and he nearly grabbed his uncle by the collar. “We need more than hour to get out there.”
Angus jerked his chin at Korban. “The quickest way to the holiday spot is going the way the crow flies.”
“Huh?” Korban glanced between Angus and Anthony. “Oh. Me. I’ve gotta do my...” He swapped his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “Gotcha.” Korban scanned the alley and pointed to a stack of wooden crates. “Let’s get behind those so no one can see.”
“Oh, shit.” A sickening weight sploshed into Anthony’s gut. “You’re gonna use your air powers to fly us there.”
Korban grinned. “It’s no worse than riding a roller coaster.”
“I’m not fond roller coasters, ye cheeky bastard.”
“Just don’t scream like a little girl.” Korban snickered. “We don’t want the attention.”
Anthony growled at the amusement glinting in Angus’s gaze.
Korban gave one last look down the alley and spread his arms wide. “You might want to close your eyes.”
Anthony squeezed his lids shut just as a rush of air whirled around him. His stomach dropped into his heels. “Bloody fuckin’ ’ell.”
A handful of moments sped by and everything went still. A deafening silence pressed against his ears and the air seemed thicker around him.
“You okay?”
A nudge to Anthony’s arm encouraged him to peek through his lashes. His lids popped open. “Fuck.”
They floated in what appeared to be a fog bank.
“We’re in the clouds.” Korban winked.
“Aye, I can see we’re in the bloody clouds.” For the love of fucking Zeus! What could be more disconcerting than being suspended in mid-air with nothing to hold onto?
“I thought it would be easier if you couldn’t see the ground.” Korban smirked.
Angus shrugged off Anthony’s concerns. “Ye’ll get used to it after a few times.”
“Not bloody likely.” Anthony glanced at his dangling feet. “Can we get going?”
“We’ll have to drop lower,” Angus reminded Korban.
“Shit.” Anthony tucked his elbows to his sides and balled his hands into fists. What the hell else was he supposed to do?
Korban swerved above them, his arms spread wide and his body horizontal. “I’ll be gentle this time.”
To Anthony’s relief, he was. The mist spiraled out of their way to create a path as they advanced through the air like a dream. He jolted when they broke through the clouds. The Thames was a gray-green snake, coiling through the patchwork of city blocks and farmland under the dizzying height. Normally, he would’ve witnessed such a view from the oval window of an airplane. But there was something both thrilling and frightening about gliding through the sky as a free agent.
“Just follow the Thames until it opens to the sea.” Angus pointed to the real-life map of the earth. “And then we’re going north to the River Crouch.”
Korban nodded.
Anthony lay in the sky, marveling at the world below. Although they sped through the air at what had to be hundreds of miles per hour, the gentle breeze fluttering his suit and teasing his fedora seemed to say otherwise. He snatched his hat from his head and observed the tug of the wind against the flapping brim. “How fast are we going?”
Korban shrugged. “I’ve never clocked myself. You don’t feel it, though, because I’ve created an air pocket. Kind of like a water balloon being dragged through a rushing river. Only the air version of it.”
“Fascinating.” Anthony smiled and let his eyes wander over the familiar landscape.
He and Christine had traveled to the remote holiday spot because of an acquaintance they’d met through a job. Lord Talbot’s granddaughter had been kidnapped for ransom and he’d hired Anthony and Christine to handle the case. Even though Anthony had insisted their fee was more than enough compensation for the problem-solving business they’d created, the old man had pushed them to spend some time at the elegant bed and breakfast establishment he’d gifted his wife. Lady Talbot loved to entertain and the B&B was a perfect outlet for her talents. Little did the Talbot’s know their guests would be the death of them.
Anthony was so lost in thought, it wasn’t long before the River Thames widened to the where the North Sea joined the English Channel. Korban angled north and the River Roach fingered through the farmlands in the distance. It branched south from the larger River Crouch and, as they drew closer, Korban reduced their speed. Burnham-on-Crouch became visible, a cluster of buildings with veins of roads stretching out toward the countryside.
“Where to, Tony?” Korban slowed to a stop and the three men hung in the air like a crib mobile.
Anthony surveyed the scenery, following the main road leading north out of town and turning east. “There.” He pointed at the building nestled within a cluster of trees, isolated off the main east-west roadway. “The Twizzlefoot Inn.”
“Twizzlefoot?” Korban smiled. He sprawled his arms and they descended like three aircraft on approach. “Sounds like a place where a hobbit would stay.”
Angus frowned. “What’s a hobbit?”
“You’ll find out in a few years.” Anthony settled his hat back on his head. “Lady Talbot named the B&B after a bridge up the road. She loved the way it sounded.”
They drifted through the air for another few minutes before the details of the cottage came into view. The lane leading to the thatched-roof house was bordered by a line of trees that continued around the grounds and formed an adjacent private forest. Korban circled and advanced from the rear, and they gently touched down near the woods. “With any luck, no one saw us.”
Anthony checked his watch. They had just twenty-five minutes before the incident was to happen. His heart thundered, and he nudged Korban’s ribs. “What’s the plan, mate?”
“Right.” He fished the letter out of his breast pocket and scanned the contents. “At four-thirty, you’re supposed to wait for her near the front walkway, as if you arrived before she did, and the two of you are to go inside and check into the room. Once there, sneak her out through the window and meet us here.”
Anthony’s jaw dropped. “I can’t do that. I’m never early. She’ll be suspicious the moment she lays eyes on me.”
“Suspicious of what?” Korban pulled the toothpick from his mouth and pointed it at Anthony. “So, this time you’re going to surprise her. Who cares?”
“She’ll know it’s not me.”
“What?” He scoffed. “You’re you. You’re immortal, right?”
“No, I’m not.” Anthony jabbed a finger at the mage. “I age slower than a mortal, but I don’t look as young as I did back then...er, now.”
“People don’t notice stuff like that.” Korban batted away Anthony’s concerns. “She’ll think you’re the you she’s married to in this time. Why would she think you have a double? Nobody thinks like that.”
Anthony paused and smiled. “Actually, you might be right. It took her three days to notice when her best friend dyed her hair red.”
“Keep it down, ye two.” Angus peered through the trees at the house. “Looks like there’s a cab approachin’.”
At Angus’s lead, they eased through the brush and trees toward the bed and breakfast. But if Anthony was going to get there before the Christine arrived, he had to pick up the pace.
He cursed and crunched through the leaves and twigs, passing Korban and Angus.
“Hey!” Korban held his hands over his head, fingers clawing the air, and a breeze stirred in subtle waves creating a path through the forest. “Go on. You won’t sound like a herd of elephants anymore. Just stick to the path I created.”
Anthony’s footsteps fell silent as if he was walking on a path of feather pillows. Blimey, what these Elementals can do!
“Ox.” Korban punched his shoulder as they hunkered down behind a neatly trimmed bush. “And don’t forget what I said. You promised.”
“Fine.” Anthony was riveted to the cab. A young couple stepped out and strolled to the front walkway. He sighed. “It’s not her.”
Gotta think, gotta think... He still wasn’t sure his older self with slicked-back hair and beardless face would fool Christine. He eyed his hat. But if he pulled the brim down far enough, she might not notice right away.
He glanced at his watch. Four twenty-eight. “All right. I’m going to get into place.”
He smashed his hat on his head and waited for the cab to drive off. Ensuring he didn’t have any witnesses, he rounded the bushes and casually strolled along the walkway of the charming cottage.
This visit had been the first for him and Christine, though the last time he’d arrived, the entire building had been a pile of flaming rubble.
A gas leak, he was told later. A freak accident.
Only years after her death had Anthony learned Ammon had caused the disaster.
Damn, the explosion. Anthony glanced at his watch. 4:32 p.m. If the necklace Christine had worn the night she died was accurate, this place was going to blow up in less than fifteen minutes. They were cutting it close.
She must have checked into the bed and breakfast moments before the incident.
4:34 p.m.
He paced in front of the door. But what if she was already inside? He dashed for the entrance and burst into the lobby, startling the woman behind the reception desk.
Hand to her breast, she sighed. “Oh, you gave me a start. Do you—”
He rushed for the counter. “Has Christine MacDougal checked in yet?”
“Uh, I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t—”
“I’m ’er husband, Anthony MacDougal.” He gripped the edge of the desk. “Is she ’ere?”
“Ah, um...” She flipped through the register. “No. No, Mr. MacDougal. She’s not.”
“Are ye sure?”
“Yes, quite sure.” She spun the book around. “Unless she signed in under a different name. Would you recognize her handwriting?”
Anthony scanned the signatures and his tension slightly eased. He glanced at his watch. 4:36pm.
“My apologies, ah...” He read the nametag on her collar. “Miss Dougherty. I’ll just...” Shit. She’s the receptionist who died. Her remains, he remembered well, and he swiped his sweaty palms down his hips. “I’ll just wait for her outside. Sorry to have alarmed you.”
The young woman twittered nervously and nodded.
Anthony ambled out the front and down the walkway on shaky legs.
“What are you doing here?”
His breath arrested in his chest. Christine.
His petite beauty slipped the handles of her pocketbook over her forearm, her suitcase on the driveway and the cab shrinking in the distance. “I’ll have to write this down in my calendar. The day Anthony MacDougal was not just on time, he was early.”
Three long strides, and he swept her into his arms.
“What are—”
His mouth descended, swallowing her words and devouring her lips. He was starved for the taste of her. He lifted her off the ground and she clung to him, laughing against his cheek.
“Well, happy anniversary to you, too.”
His heart was going to burst. He wanted to sprint from this place while she was in his grasp, but he couldn’t. They had to get Christine’s luggage inside.
“Come on, luv.” He seized her suitcase and swatted her behind. “Go check us in. I’m right behind you.”
She sauntered up the walkway, Anthony close on her heels, and the woman at the reception desk grinned.
“There she is.” Miss Dougherty flipped open the register and leaned toward Christine. “He was worried sick about you.”
She peeked sideways at Anthony before putting the pen to paper. “Was he now?” She focused on her task, replaced the pen and offered a conciliatory grin to the receptionist. “He does worry himself into a state sometimes.” She grabbed her pocketbook and took the presented room key.
“Just at the end of that hall on the left,” Miss Dougherty instructed. “Have a pleasant stay. Oh, and by the way, Lord and Lady Talbot will be down shortly if you’d like to join them for dinner.”
“Yes, thank you.” Anthony nodded, another pang of guilt stabbing him in the gut.
Christine turned and strode away.
Damnit. He snatched the bags and scurried after her. He knew that stiffened posture. She’s on to me.
His wife jiggled the key into the handle, shoved the door open and entered the room. Before Anthony could set the bag down, she yanked a small pistol from her purse and aimed it at his chest.
“Oy, now. Wait.” He quickly shut the door, lowering his voice. “What are you doing?”
She put the bed between them, her stance wide and unladylike in her puffy-sleeved day dress. “I don’t know who you are or how you can be so much like my husband, but you’re not fooling me.”
“Honey, it’s me.” Palms up to show her he wasn’t pulling a fast one, he carefully side-stepped around the bed.
“Don’t move!” She jerked the gun to make her point. “He’s a master with a straight razor, but nice try.”
Ha! That’s what it was. “Okay.” Anthony glanced at his watch. Shit. “We have exactly two minutes to get out of here or we’re both dead.”
With his hybrid speed, he dashed toward her and grabbed the gun. She screamed, but he covered her mouth and stood behind her, banding her arms with his. “Listen to me, Muffin!”
She panted through his fingers, but didn’t move.
“This place is about to blow up.” He shuffled her to the window and peered outside. The forest, where Korban and Angus were waiting, was a dozen or more yards away. “I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re safe.”
He risked lowering his hand, reached for the window and threw it open. Thankfully, she didn’t make a peep. “Just climb outside and head for the trees as fast as you can. I’ll be right behind you.”
He lifted her and shoved her feet through the window. To his great relief, she followed his instructions and hopped from the sill.
Purse still dangling from her forearm, she scampered over the manicured lawn toward the hedges. As promised, he crawled out behind her and sprinted to catch up, swept her into his arms, hurdled the bushes and darted into the trees.
The blast hit and the force knocked him airborne. He held tight, tucking his shoulder as his back collided with the ground. Christine grunted and he rolled her away from the impact. Ears whining, he blinked the stars from his vision and groaned.
He sat up and rotated his throbbing shoulder. A few moments later, the pain faded as his semi-immortal body healed.
Angus and Korban pounded toward them and skidded to a stop in the leaves.
“Jesus, are you all right?” Korban dropped to his knees.
“Yeah, I think...” Movement at the far edge of the field caught Anthony’s eye and he squinted, sharpening his immortal gaze. “Ammon.”
He leapt to his feet, but ate dirt no more than two steps later.
“Ye can’t.” Angus held Anthony down. “Ye have to let him go.”
“He’s the one who killed her.” Anthony tried to wrestle free.
“No, he didn’t, pal.” Korban shifted in front of Anthony, blocking Ammon’s escape. “Look, she’s right here. You saved her. We did it.”
Yes. We did.
Angus sat back and Anthony scrambled to Christine’s side.
Panting in disbelief and leaves stuck in her disheveled hair, she gazed at the burning cottage. “How? How did you know?” She tried to clear a smudge on her cheek and grimaced with a hiss.
Her forearm was bent in an awkward angle, but she hadn’t seen it yet.
“Angus.” Anthony held Christine’s face, waiting for her to meet his gaze. “Look at me, honey. Your arm is broken, but Angus is going to fix you right up.”
Angus hopped to the task and palmed the crown of her head. “Yer gonna feel a bit dizzy, but this will help ease the pain.”
Christine’s eyes rolled back, and she moaned. A moment later, she righted herself and looked dazed.
Angus made a small incision close to the break, sliced his wrist and dripped his blood into the cut. Though Christine winced and teared up, Angus’s Vamsyrian blood healed her quickly. She twisted her wrist and flipped her hand as if her arm was as good as new.
Anthony was about to gather her close when he noticed the watch pendant around her neck. He snapped the chain, grabbed the nearest rock and smashed the face in one blow.
“Hey.” Christine reached for her jewelry, but Anthony yanked it outside her grasp.
“Hold on, Muffin.” He produced the older watch from his pocket and compared the two. Same scratches. Same second-hand snapped off and frozen at twenty-three seconds.
The only difference was Anthony’s keepsake was worn from its passage through time, and Christine’s was stopped at 4:52 p.m. instead of 4:47 p.m.
Jesus, if the two of them had lingered inside the room another minute, they easily would’ve been dead.
“Christine!”
“That’s your past self, Tony.” Korban urged Anthony to his feet. “Where did you find the watch when you got here?”
“Um...” Gods, where had it been? “In the rubble just outside our room.” Anthony changed the time on Christine’s watch to 4:47 p.m., raced to the burning cottage and tossed it onto the pile of bricks near the ruined window they’d just climbed through.
As he was about to pivot and run back, the way the pendant lay on the rubble caught his eye. That first instant he saw the watch was one he would never forget. The exact placement, how it rested now even though he’d haphazardly tossed it onto the pile.
This was meant to happen. Christine never died in the explosion.
Anthony rapidly retreated, his past self stumbling around the ruins. When he reached the cover of the woods, he watched his grief-stricken self trip and fall, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“No, no, no, no...” He straggled to his feet, repeating the mantra as he searched for any signs of his wife.
“Gods, this was the worst night of my life.”
Christine cradled his jaw, but he shook his head and wrapped her in his arms. “No, Muffin. We have to go.”
“Noooo!”
Although Anthony had repeatedly replayed this moment over the last eighty-plus years, hearing the tortured cry of his younger self ripped a hole in his soul.
Christine sobbed against his chest as Korban enveloped them in a pocket of air and spirited them from the scene. As if she’d forgotten she was crying, she clutched Anthony as they flew over the English countryside toward London. “What the hell is going on?”
“We’re safe, love.” He wiped the tears from her face. “And I promised you a full explanation.”
“It’s clear to me you’re the future version of my husband.” She bumped her chin toward Korban. “Him mentioning your past self made that clear. And it explains how you knew the explosion would happen.”
He grinned at Korban. “I told you she’d figure out I wasn’t me. She pulled a gun as soon as we entered the room.”
“No shit?” Korban laughed. “I underestimated you, Mrs. MacDougal. Sorry about that.”
“Since you’re a Vamsyrian and my husband called you Angus, I’m assuming you’re my father-in-law’s notorious brother?”
Angus winked. “Guilty, madame.”
“What I want to know is how we’re flying.” She peered at the earth far below, clinging to Anthony with white knuckles.
“This fine gentleman here is Korban Frost, and he is from a wonderfully magical race called Elementals. Mages and witches who control the elements.”
“Oh.” Christine’s face alighted with fascination. “Do you control all the elements? Or just the two?”
Korban did a doubletake. “Two?”
“As Anthony carried me into the woods, you flung back a large portion of the brick and stone from the explosion. So, the powers of earth? Or did you use air for that? And did the concussion of the blast throw us or was that you?”
Korban blushed and Anthony laughed.
“You’re right, Tony. She doesn’t miss a thing.” He swapped the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “That wasn’t the concussion, that was me. Obviously, I did a pretty crappy job or you wouldn’t have broken your arm during the landing.”
“Yers truly, here to save the day.” Angus shot them a self-satisfied grin.
“Well, all three of you are my heroes today.” Christine wrapped her loving arms around Anthony’s neck and brought her lips to his ear. “But you were especially brave, going into that building when you knew it was going to explode.”
She kissed him soundly on the mouth and he pressed her tiny frame against him, disappearing into the bliss of her lips. Thank the Gods, she’s alive and back in my arms.
He buried his face in her neck and held tight. “I’ll never let you go, Muffin. Never again.”
“Come on, Romeo.” Korban poked Anthony’s shoulder and he opened his eyes to the brick walls of the alley, the very spot they’d begun their flight from Tilbury Docks.
Angus led the small group back through the busy cargo port and onto Knightly’s Refuge VI, where Kahli had packed all of their twenty-first century belongings into a canvas sack. “Yer future self informed us ye would bring yer period clothing to us on yer first trip here, which was last week. Ye urged us to keep ye in the past as little as possible.”
Korban nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like me.” He pulled his cell phone from the bag and swiped the screen, supposedly to bring up the snapshot he’d taken right before they’d left.
As Korban fingered the dials, Angus tapped his shoulder. “And add fifteen minutes to that, mate. That was somethin’ else yer future self told us to pass on.”
“Uh...okay.” He shrugged and, with a few clicks of the dials, set the date and tapped the hourglass to activate the Sands of Time. “Ready?”
“Absolutely.” Anthony wrapped his arm around Christine.
“I think so.” Though she grinned with excitement, a trace of fear darkened her eyes.
He rubbed her back, hoping to reassure her.
Korban shook hands with Angus and Kahli, then tossed the bag into the portal.
Christine gasped. “Nakakasindak naman!”
Anthony chuckled at the Philippine phrase expressing her amazement.
The Time Tailor smiled around his toothpick. “Don’t worry. It’s easy and painless.”
Anthony snorted. “Unless she falls on her face in that storage room.”
“What?” Christine frowned.
“I’ll catch her.” Korban winked and vanished into the mirror.
“See, nothing to worry about.” Anthony urged his wife forward.
She, however, locked her knees and resisted. “I’m going to fall?”
“Well, we did when we came through, but we kinda jumped. Watching Korban step into the mirror, I’ll wager it’s as simple as that.”
“You’ll wager?” Christine crossed her arms. “Not likely. You go first.”
Angus threw his head back and laughed.
“Oh, all right.” Anthony shook Angus and Kahli’s hands. “Thank you for your help.” Taking a deep breath, he breached the portal with his right leg and, when he hit solid ground, he swung his head through, but kept his left foot firmly planted in the past.
The transition from one time to another was almost seamless. The swirling vortex of colors flashed for a split second and he was glancing around the storage room.
He frowned. Korban was nowhere to be found.
Anthony poked his head into the past. “Come on.” He offered his hand. “I told you, it was easy.”
Christine sighed as if resigned to take the leap, waved to Angus and Kahli and stepped with Anthony into the twenty-first century. “Wow.”
“There, you see?” Although he was relieved to finally have his wife with him once more, the scent of blood seized his attention. He silenced Christine with a finger to his lips.
Desperate panting drifted in from the hall, and Anthony braced.
Korban stomped into the doorway, gripping the jamb. “They’re dead. They’re all dead!”