Capturing Today (TimeShifters Book 2) (29 page)

“A little more to your left,” Donovan instructs me. “There. The next one is below your knee and over to the—there you go.”

Michael has his hand over his mouth, and his gaze locked on me as if he’s watching the last seconds of a tied college basketball game during March Madness.

As soon as I’m low enough, Donovan reaches out and puts his hands on my legs. “I have you. Go ahead and let go.”

Despite the fact that my arms clamor for me to obey, I cling tighter to the rocks for a moment. Michael and Donovan are being kind right now, but they should be furious with me. Lark died for the cause I easily walked away from. And I’ve thrown one too many verbal barbs Michael’s way in the past week to believe anything between him and me will ever go back to normal.

I deserve to be an outcast.

The second I release, Michael’s there too. They ease me to the ground as if I’m made of china, and then Michael crushes me to his chest. For a minute we stay like that. Breathe together. He’s mint and woods and the home that I lost.

Donovan steps to my side and puts a fatherly arm around us. “Mónatos is only above this cliff. We need to leave.”

There’s a flash of light, and we land together in the middle of a forest. The scent of wet dirt envelops us. Sunlight barely filters through the dense canopy, and the sound of a nearby stream wars with a horde of birds twittering about our sudden intrusion. It looks suspiciously like Eddie’s property, but I’m not going to question Donovan about his shifting choices. He took us away from Mónatos. I trust him wherever we are.

I shrug out of Michael’s hold. If he’s only comforting me because he feels like he should … I can’t bear that. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” My gaze bounces back and forth between them. “You have no idea how sorry. I shouldn’t have left. If I could take it back. If I could—”

“Gabby.” Donovan’s voice and eyes are gentle. “You’re safe. You are not a Shade. All is well.”

But I turn-coated. They should hate me. At the very least, be angry.

I pace away from them with my hands fisted in my hair. My shoes crunch over downed branches. “You don’t … you’re not … you aren’t?”

“Mad?” Donovan offers and then shakes his head. “I’m choosing to focus on the fact that you returned. That was your intention, was it not? To come back to Keleusma?”

“I didn’t believe you’d take me back.” My voice is so small. “I understand if there are consequences.” I lace my fingers together and stare at my hands. “I’ll do whatever I have to, to earn your forgiveness.” If that’s even possible.

Donovan kneels near a large tree. Early spring flora dots the landscape. He snaps a daffodil off by its stalk. “Isn’t it fascinating that even in the worst times this world has ever seen, flowers keep blooming?” He presses the yellow flower into my hand as he rises. “Forgiveness isn’t earned, child. It’s given. It’s yours.”

“But I … how can you want—”A sob catches in my throat, and a weird sound erupts from my lips. I slap my hand over my mouth, holding in the boiling emotions that want release.

“We’re honored to welcome you back.” Donovan’s smile takes on warmth I’ve never seen before.

I hold my breath while Michael searches my face. Then he closes his eyes for a moment and inhales. “What happened in there?”

“The Shades.” I swing back to face Donovan. “They killed Lark.”

His cheeks hollow.

Don’t drag this out. Give the information quickly. Let him see I’m to blame.

“It was my mother.” My throat burns with the admission.

Donovan pinches the bridge of his nose.

I tilt my head. He’s pained by the news but not surprised. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I knew it was the Shades.” He smoothes non-existent wrinkles from his shirt. His hands shake. “Not that it was Rosa. I am sorry about that.”

“You’re sorry? Sorry?” I fist my hands, crushing the daffodil. “I should be saying that to you. It’s my fault. They—”

“No. I sent my daughter on a recognizance mission. I knew the risks. Gabby?” Donovan exchanges a quick look with Michael, but I don’t comprehend its meaning. “What does Erik want with you? He pursued you, specifically, I mean. That’s confirmed?”

“It’s really bad.”

Michael steps closer. “Tell us. We can’t help you unless you tell us.”

Speaking about it makes me feel dirty—tarnished. It’s the kind of mental slime that isn’t easily washed away. I swallow hard and focus on Donovan. For now, it’s easier on my heart than it is to look at Michael. “Erik is obsessed with discovering a way to create Shades. He doesn’t want to depend on Shifters changing sides—he wants to find a way for Shades to be born.”

Michael’s brow furrows. “What does that have to do with you?”

 “He wants … he wants …” My voices falters. Get it over with. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Straightforward.  “His plan was to use me.”

“Use your blood?” Michael touches my arm as if inspecting for needle holes.

Now it’s my turn to exchange a look with Donovan. For once, I wish Michael had a more depraved mind. I’m going to have to spell it out.

“He wants to see … if he and I had a child … if it would come out as a Shade.”

Michael’s lips curl. “No.” He growls the word.

Donovan rubs at his mouth, his expression pained. “I will not lie to you. This is much worse than I imagined.”

I lick my lips. Keep going. “There’s more.”

“Speak quickly then, and without interruption.” Donovan raises his eyebrows to indicate Michael.

I take a deep breath. “He said if I left Mónatos. If I didn’t go along with his plan. That he’d come after the Shifters. He threatened both of you.” Pressing my fingertips into my forehead, I slouch my shoulders. “I shouldn’t have escaped. He’ll hurt everyone, and it’ll be my fault. He’ll hunt me until I die. I’ll never be free.”

Donovan pries my hands away from my face so he can meet my eyes. “You did the right thing by leaving.”

“I’m so scared,” I whisper.

“I have an idea.” Donovan folds his hands around one of mine. “A way that everything might be arranged to keep all safe and cause you to be useless for Erik’s purposes.”

“I’m listening.”

“Marriage.” He tosses the word out like it’s a lifejacket instead of the painful snapping rat trap I’ve seen it be for my father. “There is special power within a Shifter’s marriage. A protection of sorts. And directly after your wedding, you stay with your spouse for a while because you need each other the most.”

“Do you think it would actually work?” I slip my hand from his. Not in an angry way. Just space. I need space to turn the idea over in my head a couple times. Marriage is forever—not something I want to agree to lightly. Not unless Donovan can assure me his plan will work. “Erik doesn’t seem the type to honor any sort of vows.”

“The magic within a Shifter’s marriage has the ability to be stronger than Erik’s power. It may render you untouchable to him.”

“But you don’t know for certain?”

Donovan presses his hands together as if he’s praying. “Imagine you’ve been diagnosed with terminal cancer. The doctor tells you that you have a month left to live. Someone offers you a pill. They say the pill will either cure you or it will do nothing. Either way, it will not harm you. Who wouldn’t take a chance on a cure?”

The birds have all flown off or stopped tweeting, so the other sounds wrap around us—the small river, the wind slowly tickling its way through the canopy. Why can’t we stay here in this moment? Forget Erik exists. Pretend that I didn’t leave and that Michael never spied on me and that I didn’t tell him I never wanted to see him again.

Donovan expels a long gust of air. “It’s the only option I can think of.”

But it’s not an option for me. Porter is with Emma. Even if he was available, our kiss did nothing for me. Would protection be worth tying myself to someone I’d never completely be in love with?

“Even if I’m willing … my Pairing won’t exactly be on board with the plan. He’s in college. He’d welcome a steady girlfriend, but marriage is the last thing on his mind.” I lace my fingers together. “Unfortunately, you have to have a guy who wants to marry you in order to make the whole marriage thing work. Or so I’ve heard.”

Defeat lines Donovan’s features. “We cannot risk waiting. There must be another way. For now we’ll return to—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Michael?” My eyes dart to his. He’s been so quiet throughout the whole exchange.

Michael’s gaze alternates between me and Donovan. “I’ll do it. Her Pairing doesn’t work, and mine doesn’t exist. It all makes sense.”

“No.” I lay a tentative hand on his arm. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I said I’ll do it.” As he turns to face me, he cups both my elbows. “I’ll marry you. Right here. Right now.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “If you’ll have me.”

“Right here is not necessary. We’ll shift and locate a preacher.” Donovan rubs his chin. “But that will be simple enough.”

My jaw drops. I know that sounds dramatic, but I’m physically incapable of keeping in my shock. “Shifters aren’t allowed to be together.” I pull away from Michael.

Donovan considers me. “When faced with allowing two Shifters to wed or making it possible for our enemy to use you to destroy all the Shifters, marriage is the logical option.”

Carl and Yasmine come to mind. Why should I be allowed to marry another Shifter when they weren’t? “But … there are Shifters that became Shades because they didn’t agree with the Pairing. What makes this different?” I swallow down another question, one about Pairings. Do people like Eddie get to love again? But now’s not the time for that discussion.

“Your blood is different than Michael’s—than any other Shifter’s—so you may be an exception to the rule. Two Shifters have never married, but Shifters have loved each other before. In that, your situation is not entirely new.”

What on earth is Donovan smoking? Michael doesn’t love me. As per his usual modus operandi, Michael’s following orders. Performing whatever task is needed to succeed at a mission, even if that means being the sacrificial lamb. In this way, he can continue to watch over me for Donovan—a ready opportunity to keep an eye on the Shifter girl who almost went bad.

I can see the cogs in Donovan’s head all connecting as he speaks. “A marriage between two Shifters has the possibility for a better tie—more resilient magic—which is what we’ll need to deal with Erik. If you both form bonds to each other like a Shifter usually does with a Pairing … yes, this will work perfectly.”

I feel dizzy. Not in a good way.

“Gabby?” The way Michael says my name seems to hold every emotion on the planet.

Donovan zeroes in on me, and his eyebrows pinch together. “There is a bounty upon your head. We are suggesting marriage as a way to offer protection. However, you don’t have to go through with this.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“I understand.” Donovan nods. “No one is forcing you. This is your choice.”

Confusion spins like draping cobwebs in my mind. I push it out of the way and think. While he may not love me, Michael is kind. He will never intentionally do anything to hurt me. When he commits to something, he puts one hundred and eighty-four percent of himself into it. I have no doubt he will take care of me.

The problem is … I love him.

So maybe the prospect of marriage should thrill me. But I never wanted to fall in love—let alone marry. Before I learned I was a Shifter, my plan was to go through life solo. Solo is safer. The Pairing meant more a resignation for me than a desire. My father’s entire life has been ruined by loving someone—someone who married him but didn’t love him back. Not really. Not enough.

And here I am in the same exact situation.

I want to weep. Beat against a nearby tree and tear every flower out by its roots. This isn’t fair. This downright hurts. And sucks. Marriage to Michael will shred my heart into a bloody, achy mess every single day.

But this is Nicholas helping me, isn’t it? I called out in the tunnel, and Donovan and Michael happened to be nearby. Far too convenient unless someone else worked behind the scenes. We have to thwart Erik’s master plan, and like Donovan said, this is the only logical way to do it.

Still … I need confirmation. “How did you know to wait for me where you did outside of Mónatos?”

Michael glances over at Donovan before answering. “We used the Elder bracelet to come, and when we got here, we waited in the field because Donovan felt a leading to stay there.”

I look to Donovan. “You felt a leading?”

He nods. “I do now too.”

I lock a deep breath in my lungs and then bob my head a few times. “I’ll do it.”

A wide grin brings out Michael’s single dimple. “You’ll marry me?” He sounds breathless.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Donovan folds his hands together. “Good. That’s settled. Michael, take Gabby to the stream and help her clean up, and then if you are both still in agreement to the plan, we’ll depart.”

Clean up. Right. I crawled through a narrow dirt tunnel for some twenty minutes. Mud covers my knees, my hands, and cakes down the arms of Carl’s coat. Oh gross. There are probably dirt and bugs in my hair. How much have I touched my face in the last couple minutes? As if to answer my question, I spot a smear of dirt on Michael’s jawline and more on his forearm from when he hugged me. If those crazy Sasquatch hunters spotted me right now, they could film me lumbering toward the stream and sell it to a cable network.