More Time Kissed Moments Page 7

  Rafe’s eyes widened. Sydney swore softly in astonishment.

  Durand looked sad. “Indeed. We who received his organs…we only found out this year. The man who received his lungs…ah, he did not last long at all, alas. It was the first alarm. Then the Englishman in Nice…they say he will not last the summer. Brain tumor.”

  “And Novara had kidney cancer,” Neven said. “Might I hope you have cancer, too? Is that why we are here?”

  Durand touched his chest. “Malignant sarcoma in the right ventricle. They tell me I will not see next year.” His tone was bright, as if he was relaying the weather.

  “You’re arranging another donor for yourself,” London finished. “Me.”

  Durand inclined his head. “It is nothing personal, Mrs. Zoric. Indeed, I was careful to only hunt for the next donor from among people who are registered and willing to share. So you can understand my surprise and my utter delight when I realize the wife of a dear friend might be able to help me.”

  “Dear friend…” Remy murmured, with a disgusted sound.

  Durand picked up a small remote control from the pedestal table and touched a button.

  More lights came on. They were sited behind his chair and illuminated the area which had been hidden from them by the dazzling lights surrounding Durand. Within the second circle of light was a small forest of medical equipment, banks of monitors and displays, towers on wheels holding steel trays of tools and supplies.

  The surgical bed in the middle was empty, the sheet stretched over it pristine white.

  “It just so happens that one of France’s greatest heart surgeons, Dr. Etienne Davos, is working in Reims this week.” Durand’s tone was conversational.

  Everyone stared at the makeshift surgery.

  “He has been paid a generous retainer and is on standby,” Durand finished.

  London realized she was shifting backward when her back bumped against Remy’s chest and her progress was halted.

  Remy rested his hand on her shoulder. “What is the other shoe, Durand? You’re far too relaxed for someone who has lost his last chance of a new heart.”

  “You always were a slippery bastard,” Neven added, in Kristijan’s cold voice.

  Durand nodded, with a smile which said he appreciated the compliment. “I confess I do not understand why you gave up your enterprises in Serbia, Zoric. There were rumors, of course. About De Sauveterre and you. When you both decamped to France, I looked into it. I have some interesting resources and their reports were extraordinary. At first, I didn’t believe them. Yet the proof was incontrovertible. It gave me hope I had not held for more than a year.”

  Rafe gave a soft sound of irritated exclamation. “He knows,” he murmured. “Novara called me a monster, just before he died.”

  Durand knew about the Blood. He knew Neven and Remy were of the Blood. Why would that fact give him hope?

  Durand touched the remote again. The second set of lights extinguished, hiding the bed and the surrounding equipment. “Of course, there is a way to avoid calling upon Mrs. Zoric’s aid in this matter.”

  “Let me guess. We turn you and everyone goes home happy,” Remy said.

  “Oh, I don’t doubt for a moment you would need encouragement to contribute to the venture,” Durand said.

  Sydney glanced at Neven. “He was going to take London and extort you into turning him. If it didn’t work, he still had London. Now, he’ll try to buy your cooperation.”

  Durand still didn’t seem offended. “A nice, round sum. Five million.”

  Neven shook his head. “Is that all your life is worth, Durand? One billion.”

  London drew in a breath which shook. It was a mind-numbing sum.

  Durand didn’t show any surprise. “It would take time to collate.”

  Neven shrugged. “My time is infinite.”

  “No,” Remy said, his tone still flat. “We won’t do it. Bring an unethical worm like you into the Blood? I would rather sever my own neck.”

  Neven glanced at him and frowned.

  “There is always Mrs. Zoric,” Durand said, his tone still easy. “You don’t think I sit here alone and undefended, do you? You are surrounded. We monitored your approach to the warehouse. We know where your car is, where your house is, where your son sleeps.”

  London gasped again, this time louder. Remy’s fingers dug into her shoulder in warning and she gritted her teeth together.

  Durand just smiled.

  “Then what?” Remy said. He stepped around London and moved up alongside Neven. “We turn you and you become a thorn in our sides for the rest of time? You were a constant pain in the ass when we had dealings with you in Serbia, Durand. It was only because we had more men and expected you to cheat and steal and lie, that we stayed one step ahead of you.”

  “Of course the choice is completely up to you,” Durand said. “You do not have to turn me.”

  The alternative was that he would take London’s heart.

  Remy and Neven, standing together, hid the repulsive man from her sight. It didn’t lessen the horror she felt. She glanced at Rafe, who wore a tight, hard expression and stood rigidly, his attention not shifting from the slimy man in the chair.

  If Novara’s attempt to snatch her had been the thin edge of survival showing itself, then this moment was the iceberg beneath the tip. This was what Rafe meant about discarding human reactions and human values.

  How much did she want to survive? How much did she want to reach the surface once more and go back to pretending to be human, with the perfect life she had found with Remy and Neven?

  The question barely needed thinking about. She would do anything to keep that life. Just as Durand would do anything to keep his.

  London didn’t hesitate, this time. She triggered the knife and launched herself passed Remy and Neven. Remy reached out for her, perhaps to halt her. His movements were slowed by his surprise, which she had counted on.

  Three lunging paces toward the chair. She saw movement in the shadows, triggered by her swift movements. There were guards there, watching silently, with guns at the ready.

  London was merely human. Just “Mrs. Zoric”. No one had been braced for action from her and now they hesitated, perhaps wondering what on earth she thought she could do. It gave her the few seconds she needed. She slapped her left hand against the high back of the recliner, to give her extra power, and slammed her right hand against Durand’s chest.

  She felt the knife grate against ribs, then slide deeper, for it was sharp. The side of her fist rammed against the soft meat of Durand’s chest.

  He looked down at her hand, then up at her, with a puzzled expression. “What…?”

  Behind her, London heard the others launch into action, swiftly scattering into the dark which surrounded the chair. Grunts sounded. Shockingly, a gun fired, the muzzle flash bright in the total darkness. London heard the bullet whizz past her. She ignored it. A grunt of pain sounded from that direction.

  London got a better grip on the knife as Durand tried to lift his fingers, to pry her hand away. Blood showed at the corner of his mouth. She ignored it and closed her mind to the pity and horror which tried to rise. Deliberately, she sawed sideways, along the rib, the buried knife blade slicing through anything it came up against.

  Durand spasmed in the chair, his fingers scrambling at her wrist. There was no power in his movements.

  The blood jetted from the wound she opened, shocking her with the heat and power of the spray. It covered her hand and wrist and splattered up her arm.

  London let the handle of the knife go, appalled. She staggered back, staring at what she had done. Her knees bent, weakness draining her.

  An arm caught her around the middle and raised her back to her feet. “No, no,” Remy breathed, propping her up. “It was the right thing to do.” He pushed her hair away from her sweaty face. “They weren’t watching you. You weren’t a threat to them. You were the only one who could do it and you did.”

  L
ondon clutched at him. “Is it safe to be human now?”

  Remy glanced around. He could see into the dark and assess the opposition. “We’ve got this. Yes.”

  London turned in his arm, bent and vomited.

  London watched the dawn arrive while sitting on the beach, with her feet buried in the cool sand. She was cold. She welcomed the numbness it imparted. When she had first sat here, her skin had been lobster red from the long, very hot shower she had taken to remove all the blood. She still didn’t feel particularly clean.

  Sydney had jumped London back to the house, leaving Rafe, Remy and Neven to clean up, then return in the car. Alex had lifted London’s chin and peered in her eyes, without regard for the blood which covered half her body. “Mild shock. Sleep and food will fix it.”

  “So will a shower,” London said, her teeth chattering, and headed for the bedroom.

  Then she had come out here, just as the first light of dawn showed.

  It was full day when Rafe settled in the sand beside her and watched the waves. The tide had retreated. They lapped yards away, although a narrow channel of water still ran between the beach and Ébihens.

  Rafe leaned and nudged her with his shoulder. “I have to apologize.”

  She shook her head. “You were right. I’m not human anymore. I can’t behave like a human anymore, not if I want to keep this life, and I do.”

  “That’s why I must apologize,” Rafe said softly. “I overlooked you. I’ve spent months easing Neven’s transition, while you’ve been left to cope on your own. I want to fix that, if you will let me.”

  “I think…” She swallowed, a little shiver rippling through her. “I think I just made the change, tonight.”

  “A massive one,” Rafe said, his tone one of agreement. “Still, if you would allow it, I think you and I should meet once a week and talk, just as I do with Neven.”

  “There’s more adjustments to make?” London asked, appalled. How far did they extend? How much would she have to change? “What will I become?” she breathed.

  “Whatever you want to become,” Rafe said, his tone kind. “That is what I would help you with. You could easily let yourself become like Durand—inhuman in all but physiology. Or you can make decisions. Carve out rules for yourself and those around you.”

  “Like Veris does…” London breathed, as she recalled the flat, absolute wall of refusal Veris sometimes threw up, which Remy and Neven complained about. Now she recognized that Veris became unreasonable and uncooperative usually when his kids or Taylor or Brody would be impacted. His sweeping, overwhelming demands always centered upon their welfare.

  “Like Veris does,” Rafe said in agreement. “Like Alex and Sydney do—although I never had to teach them. They just knew.” Pride was rich in his voice.

  London shivered again and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “This, tonight…it was all my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault you have AB negative blood,” Rafe said.

  “It is my fault I was still on the donor register,” she said. “You told us, right from the start, that we had to remove all traces from past lives. Remy gets it, because he’s done it so many times already. I didn’t even think about the register. I signed up when I was in college and never gave it another thought, and I should have. I have to keep track of that sort of stuff now. I have to…to limit my roots.”

  “Sail along the surface, not put down roots,” Rafe said softly.

  “Yes. I get it now.”

  Rafe nodded. “There is still peace and contentedness to be found, even if you can’t be really human and plant yourself, as true humans do.”

  “Only I can plant myself,” London said, surprised.

  Rafe raised his brow.

  “I can plant myself in this life. My real life, now. With Remy and Neven. With you and Alex and Sydney. Even Veris, bless his ornery soul, and Taylor and Brody. Marit and the twins and…and anyone else who finds themselves a part of it.”

  Rafe’s smile was warm and full. “Hey, look at you. You just made it back to the surface.”

  More Time Kissed Moments

  [4]

  Canmore, in the Rocky Mountains, Alberta, Canada. A few minutes later.

  Neven spun the phone again. “We owe Rafe. Big time. All three of us, Remy, so don’t look like that.”

  Remy held his lips together, a straight, hard line. Then he relented. “I should make allowances. He’s reserved. Standing beside Alex doesn’t help—”

  London laughed. “Alex is the polite one. Always correct and doesn’t horn in like Brody and Veris do.”

  Remy shook his head. So did Neven.

  London stared at them. “Alex is…proper,” she said, reaching for the only word which encompassed what she knew of the man.

  Neven pushed his cellphone into his pocket and leaned back. “He’s polite, I’ll give you that, but Alex’s ego is not a single inch less than Veris’. He gets his way. Always. He just doesn’t trample on people while he’s doing it.”

  “Which is why we must go to Canada and help find Rafe,” London said. “Look at us. We were talking about Rafe and shifted to discussing Alex and Veris. It’s what everyone does.”

  “My god,” Remy breathed. “We did.” He got to his feet. “Jason is still asleep. That will make it easier. I’ll bundle him up—it will be cold there.” He walked out of the kitchen.

  Time And Ten Million Dollars

  Dear Beloved,

  My name is Harold Diamond, the current winner of $328 million on the just-concluded Mega Millions Jackpot on November 4, 2014. I know this is surprising for you to have received this at this very early stage.

  But because I just received the check on Monday, January 12, 2015 and I am excited, I am willing to donate $10 million to you and as part of my effort to alleviate poverty and care for the less privileged around the world. I have decided to donate to just five people.

  For immediate release of these donated funds, send your full name, age, telephone number, and country. We will instruct our payout bank to transfer the sum of $10,000,000 to you.

  Dear Mr. Diamond,

  Thank you for your kind and generous offer. I can tell that you are an intelligent man, who could easily consider world domination as a career choice.

  I am beside myself. Ten million dollars! I will use the money to buy groceries for my five wives, and the twenty-three...ooops, no, twenty-four sons who now bear my name.

  I am humbled by your thoughtfulness. I didn’t know I was in poverty. Thank you for the insight.

  Only, I am confused.

  I am just an underprivileged, uneducated sucker, but it seems to me that if the Mega Millions Jackpot of November 2014 has just concluded, then you must be living in a time-warp, or I time-traveled in my sleep again – my wives keep complaining about how it messes up the sheets, so I try not to do it too often.

  Please, please send me your bank account number and password, so I can log in and accept your bountiful donation. I don’t want to put you to any trouble, and I don’t have a phone. Or a computer.

  Gap-tooth@suckerville.com

  More Time Kissed Moments

  [5]

  Canmore, in the Rocky Mountains, Alberta, Canada. A few minutes later.

  Taylor thought Veris had not noticed her walk into the room, for his gaze stayed on the monitor and he kept typing. She put her hand on his shoulder. He touched her fingers for a moment. The lightest stroke. He continued typing.

  “You ran away,” she said. “London and Neven and Remy are here.”

  “I heard them arrive,” Veris said.

  She read the first few lines of the email he was writing. “Are you responding to spam again?”

  “Scambaiting is a fine and honorable tradition stretching back to the dawn of the Internet,” Veris replied, and hit send.

  “So, it’s five minutes old?”

  He stood up, picked up her hand and kissed it. “It’s stress relief.”

  “So is chopping woo
d. You like scrambling spammers’ brains,” she chided him.

  “Yes.” His grin was small and wicked.

  Taylor braced herself. “I want to call Alannah. Ask her to come and watch the children.”

  His smile evaporated. He shook his head, his blue eyes turning flinty.

  “You can’t keep us wrapped in a cocoon forever, Veris,” Taylor said gently. “I’m of the Blood now. I’m stronger, faster and near immortal. And I want to help find Rafe.”

  “Brody is all those things, and look what happened to him,” Veris growled. “I won’t allow it, Taylor.”

  She smiled and patted his cheek. “You can’t stop me, you old bear. Not unless you tie me down or lock me up and you won’t do that. So reply to another spam email, while I phone Alannah.”

  He considered her for a moment. “I long for the days when you were afraid of me. You have no respect, anymore.”

  “I respect you plenty, Veris. I just know you too well, as you know…” She trailed off.

  “As I know you? Why didn’t you finish it?” Veris said softly.

  She recognized his tone. She had nudged his curiosity and his wariness. He would lever the truth out of her. Taylor sighed and gave him the truth. “I was about to say, ‘as you know me’,” she said. “Only, you have been second guessing both me and Brody since he…” She grimaced, unable to finish.

  “Since he left and came back again,” Veris murmured. “You’re thinking of Whitewitch Falls, aren’t you?”

  She nodded.

  How to Survive Time Travel

  [ii]

  From How to Survive Time Travel—A Practical Handbook, by Veris Gerhardsson, PhD, M.D.

  Time will bite you on the ass because you were taught that the past is behind you, as fixed and unchangeable as the history books which record it.

  What you will quickly discover—to your peril—is that even the past can change, and not in a cute, Groundhog Day way, either. Your own personal past, that you remember perfectly, can be radically different when you arrive back there. Even the past is not immune from Relativity. If you go back to check out your history, you will change it because you are observing it for a second time.