Souls Out of Time

  “Jake ought to contact us forthwith.”

  “Good. With his skills, your knowledge of the place and my expertise, I’m confident we’ll find Gabriel’s daughter in no time. Weedon’s too far away unfortunately, so we’ll have to do without him.”

  “If need be, my brother shall provide assistance.”

  Garrett had a brother? Although insignificant to her course of action, this piece of news pinched her heart in a funny way. What else didn’t she know about Garrett? Her dad’s voice interrupted her musing.

  “Right, so all is set. I’ll pack a few things tonight, because we should leave before dawn. By the way, Garrett, I want to thank you and your family for allowing me to build my new lab in your garden house. I can’t believe I stayed in London so long without even meeting your parents.”

  She remembered the huge lab in Gold Run and pondered over the size of Garrett’s garden house. If one of her father’s labs fit into his shed, how big could his parents’ mansion be? Shit, but she had no clue whatsoever regarding his life in London. Dismissing the idea, she chewed on the last of the bread.

  “The honor is entirely mine,” Garrett said. “However, it’s a small feat considering that Mother and Father bequeathed the garden house to me. I required sole access in view of my scholarly pursuits.”

  “That’s good. It will give us elbowroom. Now, I think I’m going to turn in. Has Tracy shown you the guest room?”

  “Yes, sir. Indeed she has.”

  “Perfect.”

  Actually, she’d shown Garrett way more than the guest room or the bathroom. Did her father’s inquiry remind her lover of the powerful and unforgettable moment they’d shared in the shower?

  Did Garrett recall his hands on her wet body, his erection sliding between her thighs, his rough shoves, and grunts of pleasure? Did he get hard just picturing the scene? Did he ever think about her? True, she fled the restaurant, but how could he go back home without any intention of saying goodbye to her?

  Dwelling on Garrett’s attitude would never be fruitful. The man was too complicated to fathom. Ears pricked, she heard the clink of glasses on the coffee table, the creaking of rubbed leather. They were about to go to bed. Holding her breath, she didn’t move a single muscle until they reached the foot of the stairs.

  “Sir,” Garrett said with a questioning tone, “will you inform Miss Richardson of our departure?”

  “I don’t see why. Tracy can’t help us, and I don’t want her in our way. Besides, she’s kind of emotional at the moment.”

  “I understand.”

  Garrett understood? He understood what? That blah-blah-blah one did not meddle in one’s affairs, and blah-blah-blah one ought to stifle one’s ardor in public and gag on it? What a load of crap. As for her father’s remark, she’d stand in his way if and whenever she wanted to. How dare he call her emotional?

  “Hold on, Garrett,” her dad said. “I almost forgot.”

  “Sir?”

  “Just give me a sec, would you?”

  Her father hurried to his study. She held her breath as Garrett stayed by the foot of the stairs, so close to her he must hear the furious beating of her heart. He obviously didn’t because he remained quiet until his mentor came back, carrying a long object wrapped in a gray blanket. But she didn’t get the chance to glimpse at it.

  “Here,” her dad said. “Weedon left his cross piece in my care to make adjustments. You’ll probably meet him first so would you mind giving it back to him?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “Thank you, Garrett.”

  What kind of adjustments exactly? Regular maintenance or her dad’s twenty-first century enhanced features? The matter had nothing to do with her, so she listened hard to their movements. When their footsteps resounded above her head, she got something straight. Her father and Garrett had made plans and left her out. As usual.

  ‘Good night, my boy’ and ‘Goodnight, sir’ reached her ears, followed by the sound of doors closing. Keeping a firm rein on her impatience, she hung around a bit longer, until both men had time to fall asleep.

  Meanwhile, she finished her not very tasty snack, drank some water, all the while wishing she’d brought a pad for the stool. The cool, hard metal jarred her bones every time she shifted.

  Before boredom or tiredness settled in, she mentally counted to one thousand. Had it been long enough? Whatever, she couldn’t stand being crumpled up in the closet anymore. With infinite care, she pushed the closet door open.

  Darkness. Silence.

  She wriggled out, praying to hear the smallest noise. The coast appeared clear. Having lived in this house most of her life, she didn’t need the flashlight. She extended her arms to avoid bumping into walls, felt her way to her father’s study and once inside, switched on the flashlight.

  Going down into his lab proved to be a piece of cake. She’d done it before, she remembered the whole procedure. In the basement, the computers lights blinked green and yellow, the Everett program ready to use.

  Bearing in mind her father had integrated a DNA sequencing process into the system, his invention could no longer be misused or misappropriated. She initiated the sequence before stepping into the telepod.

  No sweat. None at all, except that she had to rub her palms on her jeans, and her throat felt dry as parchment.

  This is the place. This is where it all happens. No DNA, no second chance. Bye-bye world, hello angels of heaven.

  Earlier tonight, when her dad told her about DNA as the exclusive component to cross over dimensions, he stirred in her a vague recollection of the fateful moment. And she had strived since then to extract it from her memory.

  Then when Garrett broached the subject of Jessica’s mysterious disappearance while vampires might be roaming the city of London in their universe, she’d begun to imagine a last resort plan. But the whole scheme only hit her as Timothy gave her a ride home.

  Now here she was.

  Locked inside the telepod, she replayed in her mind the moment. In the heart of winter, her father had taken a sample of her blood to use for his research. She hadn’t asked what kind of research. She hadn’t cared.

  Please God, please, Dad, tell me you took my DNA to add into the program. Because if you didn’t, I’m toast.

  Finger on the button, eyes closed, she went for it. Seconds ticked away. Her heart kept beating in her chest, actually pounding like a maniac. She opened her eyes, breathed in, let go of the button. No angels, no heaven. Just the telepod. But where? Still home on Bonita Street or in Garrett’s mansion in San Francisco 1900?

  She activated the door. The panel slid open to reveal complete darkness on the other side. Inwardly praising her common sense, she flipped the flashlight and stepped out.

  A row of computers straight ahead also featured green lights but the familiar sight seemed different somehow. To the left, her beam revealed a second telepod. Definitely different. So, she made it to Garrett’s mansion.

  Where else could she be? Before dinner, her father mentioned Garrett’s house in San Francisco as the new location for his lab. The mansion on Nob Hill held so many sweet and sour memories she had to linger for an instant.

  Here she stood, right in the place where Garrett made love to her for the first time after they had a row months ago, where he offered her his granny’s necklace before confessing his undying love for her. How ironic.

  She blinked to dispel the vivid recollection while she walked to the second telepod. Sticking her head inside, she read two names on the control panel: Gold Run and London. So far, so good.

  Almost like second nature now, she initiated the Everett program on the computer, got inside the telepod and applied her finger on the little glass square labeled London. As usual, no sound, no movement.

  The impression of nothing happe
ning felt weirder and more irritating every time she used this traveling device. She might have to ask her dad to install a bell of some kind in the telepods or a recorded voice.

  Hey there, you’ve reached your destination. Have a good day!

  Grinning at the thought of her father’s reaction if she asked for a tourist attraction, she noticed that the door didn’t feature an opening lever of any kind. No need as it slid to the side on its own.

  Silence and darkness seemed to be the only guests, like in Garrett’s mansion. Her eyes adjusted within a few seconds and she perceived furniture shapes and shadows, moonlight filtering through a soft glass ceiling. She stepped out of the telepod carefully, the door shutting behind her.

  “Good evening.”

  She dropped the flashlight.

  Chapter 7

  On hitting the floor, Tracy’s main source of light cracked and died. Utter blackness surrounded her. Breath caught in her throat, pulse throbbing against her temples, she looked toward the corner where the masculine voice had originated. A match flared up then a flame cast a golden glow in the room. The light came forward.

  “And who might you be, lovely lady?”

  Although she couldn’t make out the man’s features, his pleasant voice didn’t frighten her. If not welcoming, the tone sounded warm and mildly surprised.

  She blinked when the light almost touched her face. “My name is Tracy Richardson.”

  The stranger put down the curious lantern he was holding on the nearest table. The flame glowing brighter now, she saw better and found herself looking at a very attractive man. Tall, with short brown hair and eyes the color of beautiful golden grapes in fall, he stared at her with curiosity.

  His lips curved without warning, his face abruptly reminding her of an austere man whose smile had the power to turn her inside out. Without a pause, he moved to brush his mouth on her hand.

  “I must admit,” he said, “that I’ve rarely seen a more charming trespasser. My name is Andrew Burnes. At your service, my lady.”

  “You’re Garrett’s brother?”

  Try as she might, she couldn’t help the stupefaction in her voice. Not out of meeting a new member of the Burnes family, but because the stranger’s presence meant she’d made it to London 1900.

  “Indeed I am,” Andrew replied. “I take it you know my brother. Would you, by any chance, know where he is? I’ve been looking for him all day.”

  She instinctively swiveled her head toward the telepod. How was she to explain dimension travel?

  “Well, he is . . .” she stuttered. “Gosh, it’s complicated.”

  “My brother’s gone into that black machinery, hasn’t he? I saw you coming out of it. Tell me, where does it go?”

  It seemed obvious Garrett had kept the secret. If he hadn’t told his own brother, it meant nobody here knew about The Circle, William Richardson’s inventions, or the existence of alternate worlds. Yet Andrew didn’t look scared in the least, only intrigued.

  Did she have the right to blow the secret? Was there a point in doing just that? Would Andrew believe her or think she had a screw loose? A tough decision to make in the middle of the night and in a foreign place.

  Her story would sound extravagant, even though he seemed open-minded. On top of all that, how would Garrett and her father react to her revealing their secret? Oh yeah, that should be interesting.

  “Andrew, where are we?”

  His inquisitive gaze traveled past the telepod to focus on her while he made a large sweeping gesture.

  “Dear Tracy,” he replied, “we’re standing in my brother’s garden house. That is if we can still call it a garden.”

  “Are we alone?” she whispered, suddenly wondering if pissed off parents might barge into the room. “Is anyone likely to eavesdrop?”

  Andrew cocked his head, his amazing sort of green eyes glinting with curiosity and anticipation. Possibly excitement.

  “I can assure you we’re quite alone,” he said with a low tone. “Father and Mother shan’t be up for a while yet. Anyhow, they’d never cross this threshold.”

  “Why did you?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. Yesterday morning, Garrett seemed even grumpier than usual and I sensed an oddity. I believed the hour before dawn would be ideal to investigate, thus the reason for my presence here.”

  “Dawn?” she blurted.” What time is it?”

  “Around five a.m., I’d say.”

  Damn, she forgot about time zones. Another blunder in her spur-of-the-moment plan.

  Opposite her, Andrew didn’t seem to notice her confusion and kept on talking. “Of course I’m not allowed in Garrett’s garden house, so I trust we’ll keep my intrusion to ourselves.”

  Wasn’t Andrew just like her, sneaking around when nobody gave him satisfying answers?

  Amused, she winked at him. “Deal. I don’t mind telling you where I come from, but this could take a while. I think we’d better sit down.”

  The funny lantern encompassed them both in its feeble glow as they took seats by the table. She thought of telling him the room had to be electrically wired for the telepod to work, but she enjoyed the sight of the old-fashioned lamp and the atmosphere it created. She glanced up at the moon, a friendly presence in this strange hour. Then she devoted her attention to Garrett’s brother.

  “Look, Andrew, I’m aware what I’m about to reveal might seem inconceivable, yet believe me, it’s all very real.”

  He nodded with a serious air. Gathering her thoughts, she took a long breath and began speaking. She meant to give him the short version but much to her amazement, she ended up telling him everything.

  In her own words, she described her father’s abduction the previous year, her own discovery of the telepod, her first trip to San Francisco 1899, meeting Garrett and the other members of The Circle, their frightening but exhilarating journey to Gold Run, her joy at finding her dad alive.

  Words tumbled out of her mouth while she talked, the whole adventure springing alive for a stranger’s benefit. She’d buried that part of her life for so long that verbalizing it felt like liberation.

  She also realized that her inability to confide in her friends might have done more damage than good. But in spite of Andrew’s full attention, some thorny events and feelings had to remain buried in her heart.

  Her feelings toward his brother didn’t concern him. As powerfully as her confession shook her, she left out the ups and downs of her overwhelming relationship with Garrett. Those moments were hers alone.

  Andrew Burnes turned out to be an awesome listener. He never interrupted so she was able to follow her complex story on his face. He smiled, he frowned, he laughed at some point, and he wore a very satisfied expression when he heard about Raphael finishing off their former enemy.

  “That’s the whole truth,” she concluded. “Maybe too much considering I never told your brother that Raphael is a vampire.”

  “Why are you telling me?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I got caught in the moment.”

  Uncertain as to how this charming but estranged man took her revelation, she leaned toward him.

  “Andrew, do you believe me?”

  He didn’t hesitate for a second, and his gentle squeeze on her hand told her she’d been right to trust him.

  “I do,” he replied with an honest tone, “absolutely. Only a bloody fool would invent such a wild tale, and I have no reason to regard you as a fool. In addition, that black machinery over there is proof enough.”

  “It’s called a telepod. Don’t ever try it though, at least not until Dad adds your DNA in the program. It’s your genetic code.”

  “Why would your father do that?”

  Yes, why would he? Probably because Andrew knew the truth now and could be considere
d a member of The Circle. At least, she hoped so.

  Andrew had switched off the lantern a good while ago when the rising sun began filtering through the blinds covering the windows. She focused on particles of dust swirling in a beam of light and pictured the scene to come.

  First, her dad would give vent to his anger at seeing her here in London. After a few hours, he’d cool down, ponder the consequences of her actions, and with any luck, realize help is always useful.

  “Trust me, Andrew,” she said, you’re in.”

  “When shall I meet your father? Is he coming? What about Garrett?”

  Engrossed in her narration, she’d almost forgotten about their arrival. Upon leaving, they’d see the overturned carpet in the study as well as the open door leading down to the basement. It would take them mere seconds to figure out where she’d gone. Alone and behind their backs.

  “That’s the thing you see,” she said. “I kinda gave them the slip. Something bad is going on here. Garrett and Dad intended to deal with it but they weren’t including me in their plans. So I sneaked out.”

  Her honest admission appeared to delight Andrew. Eyes sparkling, grin widening, he slapped his thigh. “You disobeyed Garrett? Dear heavens, this shall be so entertaining.”

  She doubted the entertainment in question would be for all to enjoy but Andrew’s thrilled countenance sparked a new thought.

  “You’re nothing like Garrett,” she stated. “How can two brothers be so different?”

  “Well, Tracy, my brother hasn’t always been the severe, forbidding man you’ve met. Trust me when I say he was a lively, happy, exuberant boy.”

  “Really? So what happened?”

  As though grieving the loss of a close relative or possibly a loved pet, Andrew parted his lips and sighed. “Life. We both grew up and life happened, bringing unavoidable duties and obligations in its wake. As I am the youngest son, I slipped through the net. Garrett never had that option. He’s the first-born, he represents the family name. Someday, the whole estate will be his to administer.”