Final Hours (5 page)

With a string of curses running through his head, Kane
stopped fighting the attraction.

“Bloody hell—”

In front of God and all his colleagues, he strode over to
Elizabeth, hauled her up against his chest, and kissed her.

~ ~ ~

Elizabeth knew, when
she saw his eyes change,
just what he had planned as he stalked back across the lab.

She couldn’t move, could hardly breathe.

When he swept her up and his lips possessed hers, she
expected a hot, fierce, angry kiss. Instead, his lips gentled, exploring hers.
The effect was devastating.

He broke through every barrier she’d spent years building, and
she felt her heart open to him, trembling, vulnerable.

Both arms reached up to wrap around his neck, and her
fingers slid into his thick, unruly hair. He tasted like mint. She let out a
low moan when he eased her mouth open, deepening the kiss. She forgot their
audience, forgot her fear of becoming attached to a man who would leave her
alone, forgot everything but the feel of his lips, the strength of his arms,
the heat of his body.

His hand slipped up her back, tangled in her hair as he
angled her head, pulled her in deeper. Heat spiraled through her, and the need
to get closer had her arching in to him.

She could feel his rapid heartbeat, hear his ragged breath
as he started to lose control. Or was that her breath, so fast and hard it made
her lightheaded?

Kane broke off the kiss, staring down at her.

“God help me,” he whispered, just before he dove in again.

This time it was fierce and hungry, and she rode the wild
emotions, abandoning any attempt to hold back. His demanding mouth, the hands that
curved over her hips and pressed her tightly against him refused to let her
retreat.

She lost herself in the heat, in the need for another person
she had never felt before. A need she protected herself from, in a life that
had no guarantees, and more disappointment than she thought she could ever take
and stay whole—

This time she broke off the kiss, fighting to catch her
breath, terrified that it was too late. Kane rested his forehead against hers,
his own breathing just as labored. “I simply meant to say goodbye.”

“That was some goodbye,” she whispered.

“Too much?” Humor edged his deep voice.

“Unforgettable.”

With a quiet sigh, he pressed his lips to her temple. “Ready
for this?”

“No.”

His laughter soothed her nerves. “I need you to ease your
death grip on my neck, love.”

The endearment had her tensing again. Oh, yes—it was too
late. She liked him before they landed in his time. Now she wanted him. How the
hell was she supposed to forget the way his lips felt on hers, the raw,
uncontrollable emotion he stirred in her?

She lowered her arms, and Kane eased her to the floor. Heat
rushed across her face as everyone in the lab applauded.

To her surprise, Kane bowed, flashing a smile. “Thank you,
for your good wishes.” He took her hand, nodded to Mac, and led her to the
steps next to the platform. Sparks danced around the perimeter of the circle.
“Now I will give you a proper goodbye.” Her heart jumped as he leaned in, but
his lips touched her cheek, warm and brief. “Take care, Elizabeth Barritt. Be
proud of who you are, live your life for you.”

How could saying goodbye to someone she barely knew hurt so
much? Tears stung her eyes at his quiet words. He made it worse by brushing
hair off her forehead, his touch gentle, almost more intimate than kissing her.

“Please be careful,” she whispered. Her voice threatened to
lodge in her throat, along with her tears. She laid her hand on his left wrist.
“Guy is going to do whatever he needs to do to stop you.”

“The constant twinges in my shoulder will be a good
reminder. Not a word, Beth.” His fingers cupped her chin. “I will be ready for
him. Now, I believe I need to kiss you again. For luck,” he said against her
lips, just before he claimed them.

This time the kiss was achingly sweet, and far too short.
Kane ended it, cradling her cheek, his hand so warm on her skin. Before she
could touch him he backed out of reach. “Now, Mac.”

Gold light burst up from the circle, a shimmering,
transparent wall.

“Is that the portal?” She didn’t plan to sound so awed, but
it was—awe inspiring; so beautiful it nearly swamped her. Like a breath-robbing
piece of art.

“The doorway to endless possibilities.” Kane climbed the
steps, turned back to her. “I look forward to seeing what you do with your
possibilities. I will miss you, Beth.”

His coat swirled around him as he swung to face the wall of
gold. Elizabeth hugged her waist and drew the image in her mind: of Kane’s face
edged in gold, the light tracing his aristocratic features, glinting in his
clear grey eyes.

He closed those eyes for a second, before he reached out and
thrust his hand into the wall. Elizabeth let out a gasp when the light wrapped
around him, then winked out of existence, plunging the lab into darkness.
Endless seconds later, the lights flickered on, revealing confusion, concern,
and outright fear on the faces of the people who should have been used to the
portal.

“Elizabeth!” Mac rushed over, gripping her shoulders. “Are
you okay, sweetheart?”

“That wasn’t a normal—what do you call it?”

“Departure—and no, it wasn’t. Kane’s signal went offline
right after he entered the portal. He’s out there with a nonworking transport,
and if I don’t find him fast, he may not be coming home. Stay here. Doc!”

She watched him dodge people to get to the other side of the
lab, numb at his announcement.

Without a working transport, Kane would be trapped.

Kane flew through
the air and hit hard ground
shoulder first.

Fortunately, it was his left shoulder, but it still hurt
like a bitch. Cursing, he pushed himself up, did a quick check of his
surroundings. The portal sent him to the back of some building, enclosed by
walls on three sides. Fresh razor wire ran just under the roofline, and he
heard the sound of cars to the other side of the wall.

He held up his left wrist. The readout told him he was at
the right date, but the wrong location. Somehow, he ended up in Dover. On top
of that, he had lost the visual of his surroundings. He tapped the blank screen.
Nothing—no map, no landmarks—which left him essentially blind.

“Bloody hell…” His voice faded as he spotted the blinking
light in the lower corner.

His transport was offline.

“No—” He tapped in the coordinates that would take him home.
The screen blinked—then blacked out completely. “Don’t panic.”

He hit the black default button, their failsafe when
everything else went wrong. Sparks leapt out and snapped at him.

“Shit.”

Still cursing in every language he knew, he pushed to his feet
and unbuckled the leather band. There was a reset on the back. It
would—hopefully—reboot his screen. He refused to consider the possibility that
he was cut off from home. The problem had to be his personal transport. It was
a rough trip, the worst he’d experienced in quite some time. His transport
simply received the brunt of it.

He leaned against the building, and promptly fumbled the
transport. His heart pounded at the close call. He turned it over, cupped it in
his palm, and used his pinky to push the reset button.

There should have been a hum, and the tinkling music that
signaled a reboot. The silence was like a death knell.

They had a backup for this contingency—didn’t they have a
backup? He pushed through the panic threatening to choke him, fought for calm.
Yes, they did; an agent came through with a working transport, to the
coordinates locked into the console at home.

The coordinates for London, 14 May, 1940.

He was in Dover.

Kane leaned his head back against the wall and closed his
eyes.

He was utterly screwed.

~ ~ ~

Mac tapped double
time on his screen,
muttering under his breath. Elizabeth watched him, arms wrapped around her
waist, and fought the panic that threatened to break through. She would not let
it take over—not this time.

She reached up for her gold locket, and took slow, deep
breaths. The panic faded, faster than normal, and her breath evened out.

Mac stopped his furious tapping, stared at the screen for
endless seconds—and with a vicious curse, slammed his fist into it.

“Mac—”

“I lost him.” He stared at Elizabeth, oblivious to the blood
dripping off the torn skin over his knuckles, his face shock pale. “He’s gone.”

“Dead?” Her question had everyone in the lab freezing mid
task. Panic didn’t have any room to move in this time—she was too scared for
Kane. “Mac—is he dead?”

“He might as well be.” Relief nearly buckled her knees. She grabbed
the edge of the console at his next words. “Protocol is to send an agent in
with a new transport. Problem is, he’s not where he’s supposed to be. I checked
every damn square inch of London for his signal. He’s not there.”

The lab buzzed with various reactions. Elizabeth ignored
them, forced herself to focus. “What if he detoured? Like an unintentional side
trip?”

Color started to seep back into Mac’s face. “An
unintentional…” He swung back to his screen, and cursed at the broken glass.
“Follow me.”

He ran to the main console and spoke to the tech in front of
the central screen. After constantly shaking his head, Mac said something that
had the tech’s eyes widen. He backed off and Mac jumped in, tapping on the
screen. Elizabeth inched forward, as inconspicuous as possible. She finally got
close enough to hear Mac, muttering as he kept moving his hands over the
screen.

“Unintentional side trip—genius.” Elizabeth bit her lip on a
smile, just before Mac swung his head around, caught sight of her. “Come here.
Make way—get out of her way!” The space on either side of him cleared. “Your
brilliant observation made me think of this equally brilliant strategy. Look up
at the big screen.”

She did. A map replaced the grid, and as she watched,
sections of the map start blinking, each one a different color. What he had
done jumped out at her. “You’re breaking it up.”

“Got it in one. Genius.” He flashed her a smile, kept
tapping. “Watch the North East, top right on the map.” It stopped blinking,
then went dark. “By plugging Kane’s DNA signature in, we can go through each
part of the country until we pinpoint him. That is,” he glanced at her, the
smile gone. “If he landed there on the correct day.”

“And if he didn’t?”

“I’m gonna cross that bridge if we get to it, sweetheart,
not before.”

“Okay.” She told herself to breathe, slow, deep. It helped
to focus on the screen, instead of the fear screaming at her. A small, red dot
snagged her attention, at the bottom of the map. “Mac—what is that?”

He looked up—and stared at the map. “I’ll be damned.” His
fingers tapped and slid over the screen. “I’ll be double damned. You found
him.” Before she could escape he picked her up and swung her around. “You found
him!”

He kissed her, hard and fast, and set her on her feet.
“Will! I need another transport. And line up an agent to go in—”

“I have suspended all portal travel.” Dr. Kinimoto appeared
on the other side of the console. Glendon Harper stood just behind her, and he
looked smug. Elizabeth wanted to punch that smug right off his face.

Mac looked like he wanted to do worse. “You can’t—”

“I refuse to put another agent’s life in danger. Not until
we know Kane is alive.”

He clenched his fist. Fresh blood stained his hand. “That
rat bastard is pulling the strings, isn’t he? And now you’re going to leave
Kane out there.”

Dr. Kinimoto stiffened, an angry blush on her cheeks. “Despite
what you think of me, I am in charge, and this is my decision. I am sorry, Mr.
Macaffrey. But yes, I am.”

She turned away.

“Son of a bitch—” Mac vaulted the console, grabbed Dr.
Kinimoto and spun her around. “You’re not going to leave him hanging, do you
hear me? He’s stranded because of your incompetence—”

“Take your hands off me.”

“Send someone in after him—”

“This is your last warning. Let go of—”

“Send in another agent, damn it!”

“I will not jeopardize—”

“I’ll go.” Elizabeth covered her mouth, shocked that she
spoke the words out loud. She must have—everyone was staring at her.

“Elizabeth?” Mac approached her, his hands out. She let him
take hers, felt them shake in his grip. “Sweetheart, you can’t go back there.
You’re not even part of the project—”

“I know what it means to be left behind.” She gripped his
hands. “I won’t do that to him.”

“She is completely unsuitable,” Dr. Kinimoto said. Harper
stood behind her, watched the scene with those cold, unreadable eyes. Mac
pulled Elizabeth in, draped one arm across her shoulders. It felt like comfort
and support from a big brother, and Elizabeth found more than comfort in his
gesture. She found strength. “A civilian, who would know nothing—”

“You’re wrong.” Elizabeth lifted her chin, used the maybe
two extra inches of height to her advantage. “I know at least as much about the
history of Britain as any of your other agents.”

“She ain’t lying.” Mac planted a noisy kiss on her cheek
before he jogged around the console, tapping on the screen. “You accused her of
being a murderess. Meet the real Elizabeth Barritt.”

A second, smaller screen popped up on the wall, with a large
version of the bio Mac found earlier. Nerves had Elizabeth hugging her waist.
The unflattering photo stared down at her, a future self that was obviously
unhappy, and probably alone. Her long list of published books just confirmed
it.

Harper turned away from the screen and studied her, his eyes
appraising. She felt dirty, violated by just his scrutiny. She knew his type,
and planned to stay far, far away as long as she was here.

“So, we have a future expert in our midst.” Dr. Kinimoto stepped
between them, the tablet that she always seemed to carry tucked in the crook of
her arm. “How does that help us now? And why should it sway me?”

“You get your best agent back,” Mac said. “If anyone can
find him, I’d lay bets on our Elizabeth. They have a connection, one that might
just be useful. The portal likes connections. Yeah,” he hovered over the
console, sliding knobs and twisting dials. “Bring that pretty little hand over
here, sweetheart.”

“What are you—” Dr. Kinimoto cut herself off when Mac raised
one hand and reached for Elizabeth with the other.

“I just need a scan of your handprint, and the portal will
recognize you.”

Elizabeth flinched as he slapped her hand on an ice cold
screen. Light flashed under it, similar to a copy machine scan, just before Dr.
Kinimoto yanked her out of Mac’s grip.

“Too late,” he said. “She’s in the system.”

“What does that mean?” Elizabeth didn’t want to know. Once
again, words just popped out of her traitorous mouth.

“Once the portal has your handprint, you can travel through
on your own.”

“Wait.” Kane’s voice flared in her mind. Something about not
being attached to the portal, allowing her to go back to the same place… “Stop
it—don’t let it process—”

She pushed past Mac, in reaction mode as she tried to undo
what she was afraid had already been done.

“Elizabeth.” Mac eased her away from the console, turned her
around. “This won’t hurt you—”

“I can’t go home now!”

He looked startled. “What are you talking about? Of course
you can. Kane can send you straight from wherever he ended up.”

“But—he told me—”

“Ah—agents can’t go back to the same place more than once.
They can’t, because their DNA is tracked by the portal. It’s been physically
added, by way of a blood sample. Because I only scanned your handprint, I gave
you a simple identity with it—like a temporary pass. The portal’s going to know
that. You’re not trapped, sweetheart, not by a long shot.” He tucked hair
behind her ear. “If you still want to help Kane, you’ll just be taking a little
detour.”

She looked past him, at the black granite circle. For the
first time, she noticed the granite didn’t have the sheen of stone. Instead,
the black seemed to absorb the light, instead of light bouncing off the
surface.

“This isn’t just advanced human technology, is it?”

Mac smiled. “We be walking in alien territory.” Dr. Kinimoto
cleared her throat. “Right. Let’s get you geared up, sweetheart.”

“You will stick to protocol, Mr. Macaffrey.”

“I love when you go all formal on me, Doc.” He winked as he
led Elizabeth past her, and she swore the woman blushed. She spun around before
Elizabeth could be sure.

They headed to a double door on the far side of the lab, one
of the doors labeled Costume Room. Mac opened it and waved her in. “Welcome to
Wonderland, my dear Alice.”

Elizabeth stepped into an enormous room that burst with
color. Her mind went on overload as she tried to take in the sheer variety of
the clothing. A gorgeous silk ball gown fit for a Georgian era summer night
flirted with a heavy brown velvet coat that would have been comfortable in a
Victorian parlor. Shoulder pad to strap, clothing was stuffed into open front
closets, with no rhyme or reason to their placement.

Her fingers itched to touch, her mind already organizing the
space for maximum efficiency. Only someone with no vision could have created
such mindless chaos.

“Overwhelming, isn’t it?” Mac’s voice jerked her out of her
thoughts.

“It could be beautiful, if someone took the time to—”

“Oh, no you don’t.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her down
one of the aisles, between the long benches that stood in front of each closet.
“Here. Pick something from this rack. It will fit the time period, more or
less. I’d recommend an outfit you can run in.” She stared up at him. What she
volunteered for was starting to sink in. “You’ll be just fine, Elizabeth. All
you have to do is find Kane. He knows the procedure when his transport goes
offline, and he’ll stay put. Then he’ll send you on home.”

“Okay.” Her throat wouldn’t let any more than that single
word through.

“Five minutes, and we’ll be ready for you.”

She watched him jog back to the doors and close them,
leaving her alone. Before she could start to think again, she reached in and
dug through the rack. The sizes were easy to find numbers on the top of each
hanger, so she narrowed it down to everything with a six on it and yanked them
free.

The dresses and skirts went back first, which left a couple
of pairs of trousers, a pile of blouses and shirts, and a handful of jackets.
Elizabeth chose a long sleeved, blue cotton shirt, loose enough to hide the
fact that she wore nothing under her shirt, that she needed nothing more than a
thin camisole. Besides, the blue matched one of the colors in the only pair of
tweed trousers that were lined. She was not going to wear unlined wool; she
already learned her lesson, the itchy, hard way.

Her worn but comfortable boots would have to do; she wasn’t
about to try and find a pair of shoes that didn’t give her flaming blisters, in
the little time she had. Not when it took her hours of shopping to find one
pair she could live with.

She undressed quickly and slipped into the new clothes,
leaving the shirt untucked. The longer brown jacket would keep her looking neat
long enough to hand the transport over to Kane, and go home.