Skye
The cemetery sat at the top of a little hill in the woods, the clearing just big enough for the hundred or so old graves. Stone posts held a rusty chain as a barrier along the front side, the other three sides flanked with stone walls. Maples lined the road with their bright-red leaves, the bark knotted and scarred from being tapped for sugaring.
I liked the feel of this cemetery—warm, serene, peaceful, though not as welcoming as the one next to my house.
He’d waited for me at the top, holding the rusty gate so I could enter before him.
“The stone is over there, to the back.” I pointed to the left. I wanted to ask him what he felt here, in this place, if his energy hummed with serenity or if he just felt…nothing.
But before I could get the courage, he grabbed my hand and headed that way. I’d never had a guy just…hold my hand, his warm and protective while mine was cold. I’d joke with Grace that my hands were always cold like my heart. My step lightened as I pushed away the worry, skirting the smaller newer headstones as we headed to the corner.
This stone wasn’t as ornate as M.S. Storm’s and lacked any decoration. However, the stone was the same excellent quality, a thick slate that wasn’t common in that generation. The dates were also wonky, and L.L. Winters would have been over one hundred at their death. The same epitaph had been engraved in the stone—May the light carry you forward. I’d always been intrigued as it felt churchy on some level, but…not.
“L.L. Winters,” he said, his hand stroking his chin as he studied the site.
“Is this one connected to M.S. Storm’s somehow?”
“No, not directly. The epitaph is correct for this one as are the awkward dates. But there’s a baby’s stone, too.” He pointed to a tiny stone to the side with a date of 1880. “And that wouldn’t fit.”
I shrugged as I looked, too. The baby’s burial spot didn’t have a name, just a date. “What does that have to do with it?”
“This belongs to another time traveler. Time travelers use gravestones to jump great distances, because we know these cemeteries have survived and exist through time. So for example, jumping in a house could be dangerous, because that house may not have existed a hundred or two hundred years ago. Having your own stone embeds your energy and gives you a direct path to follow. It’s more accurate. I could jump small amounts of time in the house, but the stone is safer for more than a few decades.”
As the enormity of what he just said settled in my mind, I let go of his hand. “Wait. So no one is buried here.”
Oblivious to my growing level of anxiety, he walked the perimeter of the two graves, inspecting them for something I couldn’t see. “No.” Returning to my side, he titled his head at the infant stone. “But I do think a child might have been buried here, which is why I’m confused.”
“You’re confused?” I gave a hysterical laugh. “You’re telling me this headstone is for a time traveler.”
“Maybe.”
“And if it’s like M.S. Storm’s stone…then they are time travelers, too?”
“Yes. M.S. Storm’s stone is ours,” he said absentmindedly as he walked the other way around the headstone, oblivious that he’d just rocked the core of my world.
“Whoa. Our stone? You mean you and prissy pants.”
“She didn’t wear pants,” he corrected as he shot me a dangerous side-eye. “You’re sounding bitchy.”
“You just—” Fear rolled inside me to the point that I shook. I’d always loved the cemetery. I’d always loved M.S. Storm’s stone, had always found it a comfort.
I stared at that new, traitorous stone so like the one near my house, hating the soft hum of energy that beckoned to me on a new level. I couldn’t be a time traveler. I didn’t want to be one. I wanted to be me.
“Skye.”
My gaze snapped from the stone to his as I fought to breathe around the growing panic.
“Unshield for me.”
His sharp tone struck home, and I lowered the veil, allowing him to feel the confusion and fear, grateful for once that I didn’t have to explain myself. I should have been intrigued, joyful, excited to find this connection, to understand why these stones might have offered me comfort through difficult times. If I chose to believe him, then they were a connection to home, to my past life…to Marek.
And that scared the shit out of me.
With quick strides, he crossed the grave to wrap his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. That vibrant energy of his dulled like a sun trying its damnedest to warm a winter sky from behind a cloud. But mine brightened and stabilized. The trembling stopped, and I drew in a calmer breath as his hands rubbed my back, coursing over my shoulder and the tattoo I had thought was an original work of art when I’d gotten it.
Maybe I could get used to this connection, this way of communicating without words.
“Darat nan,” he whispered. “I’m not going to steal you away to another time. Is that why you’re afraid?”
“I don’t know.” Something told me that wasn’t it.
“It takes a lot more energy than I have to go anywhere, even with a sidekick as powerful as you.” He kissed my head.
“Okay.” I breathed a little easier, inhaling the floral scent of his fabric softener in his shirt.
“You’re not being prickly, but that level of fear deserves a kiss, too.” He dropped a soft kiss to my lips, sweet and poignant, as if he wanted to erase my terror with that gentle caress.
I leaned into him and basked in that kiss, his yellow warming me, brightening my blue, mixing slightly to emerald green in a way that had only happened with the after effect. The way shocks of electricity darted across my skin, the joy fluttering in my belly in a totally different way that had nothing to do with an orgasm.
Oh no. I couldn’t like him. Warning bells went off. I laughed nervously as I stepped out of his arms, a little shaky still. I blocked him again, raising of my shield with a mix of reluctance and relief.
I glanced away, not wanting to see his face fall at the loss of my energy. “So…why wouldn’t that be a time traveler’s gravestone?”
“People can’t travel with children.”
“Ah, that’s right. That’s why you left me here.” That was bitchy, but I needed to put him at a distance again. Wait. He’d said he would kiss me if I got bitchy. This wasn’t going to work.
“Yes.” But he didn’t sound right as he said that, and he certainly didn’t move in to kiss me.
I glanced back at him, narrowing my eyes. “What are you hiding from me?”
He shrugged and narrowed his back. “I could ask the same.”
“I don’t like you feeling my every emotion.” That wasn’t quite true, but that was the issue.
“Okay, so let’s be truthful. Admit that you might actually like me.”
“That’s—”
“Isn’t it? I felt that. You felt that, and then you shoved up the mental barricade.”
I swallowed. “I felt lust. That’s it.”
“Okay.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. “Let’s get going.”
“You owe me a truth.”
He blew out a breath and glanced at his black, worn boots. “It’s just unsettling to find another traveler and not understand where they went or what happened. I don’t know the team name Winters. It’s like…losing family.” He raised his head and smiled sadly. “Okay?”
“Okay.” But I still thought he was leaving something out.
Marek
We made our way to the point, the drive quiet as Skye took in the scenery, lost in thought. I didn’t know what to say to her. I’d spent a year and a half planning for these moments, anticipating what she would do or say and praying to the Fates that she’d regain some of her memories to make this easier for her.
I hadn’t planned for this. Any of this. Not her fear, not the fact that I’d just encountered another time traveler’s stone. When she’d unshielded for me, the turbulence of her fear and confusion sliced me to the bone. I’d spent my whole life learning what my job meant, and I didn’t know how to help her through this.
And the headstone… That team had to have something to do with the Rai necklace, too. It made sense that they’d want that piece as well given the worth. Lofton Burke’s treasures had been in a special vault at the end of the point in a spot only accessible during the extreme low of a super tide. That had made no sense to me then, but it did now. A normal person wouldn’t want to hide something where they could only access it once every hundred years…but a time traveler would. And since there were few teams who could travel this far back, L.L. Winters had probably done the hiding.
But how? To create an elaborate hiding spot would take time, and given the location and the laws surrounding time travel… I had no clue how they’d done it. The only logical assumption was they’d stopped time somehow, and that was not a government-issued ability. I’d tried doing it myself on numerous occasions but had failed to hit the right combination on my watch if there was one. I had to go back to figure that out as well.
We pulled into the parking lot of the park at the point. I stopped in front of a split rail fence covered with signs warning of the dangers of the rock cliff at the far end of the tree-covered point. A path led off in that direction. The jagged rocks, deep water, and strong currents below the sheer drop made rescue near impossible.
The path to the right led down to a sandy beach in a cove protected by a jetty. It hadn’t existed when I stole a necklace during one of those rare low tides. Another path at the end of the beach led to my land as it bordered the park. I could walk here in a few minutes that way, which had worked well for our plans for stealing the necklace. The roads to the park took the long away around, skirting old farm borders and crossing a small brook in a less rocky area.
I turned to Skye as she stared out the window at two seagulls fighting over trash in the parking lot. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not. None of this was what I had expected.” She turned to me, her hand raising in supplication. “How can I process that you’re a time traveler, you’re my husband in a different time, and you dumped me here after I fractured into a…toddler…because of whatever time-traveling laws.” Her hand slapped down on her thigh in emphasis. “I can’t even.”
I winced. “What had you expected?”
Shrugging, she stared out the window at the little beach again. “I don’t know. The worst case was I had been abandoned by a cult of religious freaks, and I’d get a little satisfaction in knowing I’d escaped.”
I wasn’t quite sure what a cult was, but I’d look that up. “And the best?”
“Does it matter? You’re better than a cult.”
“It matters to me.”
Sighing, she shook her head. “I wanted somewhere besides Grace’s to go for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I wanted someone who knew my real birth date instead of using January first as a place holder because I didn’t have a birth certificate.”
“I know your birth date.”
She shot me a glare laced with ice. “It’s not my birth date. Not really.”
No, it was the other Skye’s. I blew out a frustrated breath and ran a hand through my hair, unsure how to help her. Hell, maybe I couldn’t. “What can I do to make this better?”
“Maybe just…come out with everything you’re hiding. And I mean all of it. Just…get it out there.” She flung a hand in front of me, shoving away imaginary baggage. “Because I know you didn’t tell me the whole truth at the graveyard back there.”
My foot tapped anxiously on the floor mat of the car as I closed my eyes. I could never lie well to her. The bond didn’t allow it. However, her shield allowed me to skirt the truth just enough to spare her more grief. I bit my lip, wishing I could absorb her pain, past and present. I cleared my throat a couple of times. “Will you unshield for me as I tell you?”
She shook her head, her chin jutting out in stubborn pride. “I can handle it. Just say it, Marek. You were upset about a baby at the gravesite. Why?”
I sucked in a breath, let it out, and decided to just come clean.
“Time travelers are sterile after they make their first jump.” I swallowed, unable to look at her as regret churned in my stomach. “And that was a jump stone. The epitaphs were right. The energy in the stone felt correct but dull. The odd dates were to tell us something went wrong in 1876. But there shouldn’t have been an infant stone in 1880.”
“So…if that team couldn’t have kids…that means you’re sterile, too.”
I closed my eyes and numbed the pain. “Yes.”
“And so if I believe you…I’m sterile.”
It took every inch of bravery in me to not cringe. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t be.” But she didn’t sound mad or terrified. She sounded relieved.
I opened my eyes, jerking my head. “Skye—”
She raised a hand to stop me. “Marek, this is the first thing you’ve said that makes sense to me. I’ve always had issues with having my period. It just…didn’t happen. I went through a bunch of testing when I was twenty. They said not to expect to get pregnant.” Her hand slid to her left hip. “I have scarring over one ovary, and they thought I’d had an accident of some sort that could have contributed to that.”
Numb, I thumped back against the seat in awe and surprise. I didn’t want to answer questions about the scarring, though. God, this was bad enough. “And how do you feel about not having kids?”
She picked at an imaginary something on her thigh. “I’ve had a few years to get over it. I was sad at first. I’d always wanted a family. But I just…figured I’d adopt if I found someone.”
“Okay.” I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat the size of a clipper ship. I’d expected this to be a battle, and she’d already known. I hadn’t planned for that, either. “So that wasn’t so bad I guess.”
“No.” Her sky-blue eyes drank me in as she curled a lock of hair in her fingers. “But how do you feel about not having kids? You would have had cute kids.”
No one had ever asked me that, and my heart ached just a little in a mix of gratitude and longing.
“I’m fine with the knowledge.” I laughed hoarsely, unable to tell her I’d dreamed of those children, with her dark, curly hair and mischievous smile. I’d wanted that more than anything at one point, but this was my life now. “I’ve had years to accept it, too.”
“Good.” Her free hand brushed my thigh as she nodded, her expression sympathetic. “I know it’s hard. I used to lay in bed in someone else’s home and dream of having my own family that I could love and not…feel like unwanted baggage. But that changed when things went bad, and I discovered the—” Confusion creased her brows until her eyes widened. “You.”
“Me?”
“Did you—” She bit her lip, shaking her head.
My heart skipped a beat, horror growing at whatever I’d done.
She finally managed, “The money?”
It took a moment, and then it dawned on me. I heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh. Yes. I set up the trust fund for you when I came back to check on you and discovered the adoption hadn’t gone through as planned. I was worried you’d need money for…whatever.” But as her mouth gaped, a chill ran up my spine to my nape that I tried to rub away with my palm. “Was that okay? Did I give you enough?”
“You left me all that money? Why?”
I blinked, unsure if she was angry or sad or…what. I’d hurt her so much. I loved her enough to save her life by leaving her behind. Money couldn’t have bought what I wanted the most, but it was what I had to give.
My throat burned as I struggled to find the words. “I couldn’t take you with me, and I couldn’t reach out to you until you were mature enough for the bond to handle it. I didn’t know we had a partial bond because of your shielding techniques.” For the second time this week, my eyes burned with tears that threatened to fall. I cleared my throat to ward them away. “In this time, money is power. I gave you what I could. I’m sorry if it wasn’t enough.”
Tears welled in her eyes, her lips parting as if she didn’t know what to say.
I sucked a breath into my aching chest. “I’m so sorry.”
Grabbing my shirt, she tugged me forward to meet her in the center of the car. Her slender arms wrapped around me, and she clutched me like a lifeline in a storm. The worry and fear released, and I sagged with relief as I hugged her back, sinking my face into her coppery hair to inhale her lavender scent. I couldn’t bear it if she hated me.
“Thank you,” she whispered against my now-damp shirt. “You saved me. You don’t know how much that meant, to have someone leave me enough money to be independent and…free. It changed my life.”
“I’m glad.” I held her tighter, rubbing her back, her shoulders. Unfortunately, my dick liked the press of her breasts against my chest. Her nipples tightened from the friction, and I groaned into her hair. “Let’s go walk before this turns to something else.”
“Yeah.” Sniffling, she pulled away and used her cuff to wipe her eyes. “Thank you.”
I didn’t want to let her go, though. My fingertips traced the curve of her jawline and brushed her lips. “So…am I still better than a cult? Because I have no clue what one is. It’s not a word I’ve encountered.”
She laughed. “Yes, much better.”
I dropped a quick kiss to her lips. “Then let’s go explore this point.”