“It is the judgment of this kris that Peter Faa and the female Kiya Mortenson are found guilty of crimes against the family—”

  “Wait a minute!” I interrupted, standing up. The pugs not on the table instantly swarmed to my feet and began yapping. “Don’t we get to present evidence of our innocence? Clothilde, really, right there? There’s a perfectly good bush not ten feet away—hold on, everyone. Let me take care of that.”

  “Does anyone else find it even remotely farcical that the kris is being interrupted because one of those attending took a dump next to a krisatora?” Peter asked, his lips twitching.

  I waved the pooper-scooper at the stony expression on the faces of the others before putting it to its intended use. “I think you and I are the only ones who see the humor in the situation.” A little light blinked on and off rapidly from the cover of a fern. “And Sunil.”

  “What evidence do you have to present?” William asked in an officious tone of voice as I returned to my seat. Instantly, I was swarmed with pugs. I cuddled as many of them as I could, feeling that if I had them in my arms, I was less likely to punch William on the schnozz as he deserved. While I might have given in to that temptation had I been on my own, it was clear that Peter needed to maintain his authority, and my natural tendency to lip off might well undermine that.

  “For one, I saw Gregory alive before one of you coshed me on the brain.”

  “What proof do you have of that?” Andrew said with a sneer in his voice. “You have none, do you?”

  “William said Gregory was in my tent!”

  “I must have been mistaken,” the older man demured. The urge to punch him grew even stronger.

  “You lying…Fine! You want to play that way? What proof do you have that Gregory wasn’t with you?” I countered.

  Andrew pointed to his cousins. “Arderne and Piers have both testified that Gregory has not been seen since before the sun set.”

  “Yeah, but they’re lying, just like William—”

  “You have no proof!” William bellowed, totally ignoring the fact that he was caught in his own web of falsehoods. “Therefore, your evidence is not allowed. It is the decision of this kris that the mahrime Traveller Peter Faa and mahrime Traveller Kiya Mortenson are guilty of the aforementioned crimes of theft and, as such, will be subject to the course of punishment decided upon by the family of Gregory Faa. As the eldest male of the family, I demand an eye-for-eye justice.”

  That had a particularly grim sound to it. I was just about to inform William that I was not going to stand by while he railroaded Peter and me for something we didn’t do when Peter spoke up at last.

  “As a member of the Watch of the L’au-dela, I am sworn to uphold the laws governing both mortal and immortal beings, and for that reason, and that reason alone, I have allowed this kris to proceed. However, your summation process is faulty and does not adhere to the precepts governing the Otherworld, so I am forced to reject your sentence.”

  “Yeah!” I said, standing up with the intention of taking my armload of pugs over to Peter in order to show our unified front. “We reject your sentence.”

  I got two steps before Andrew was on me. Or rather, behind me, a wickedly sharp dagger that I hadn’t known he possessed pressed to the side of my throat.

  “You do not seem to understand,” he said, his breath puffing annoyingly on my face. I thought of telling him to get a breath mint, but my ego reminded me that I was being good for Peter’s sake. “The judgment of the kris has been made: an eye for an eye will be exacted for the crimes you committed.”

  “We will, however, allow you to pick which one of you will pay the price,” William put in, moving over to take the gun that Peter had pulled when Andrew whipped out his knife. “We are not, after all, without decency.”

  Reluctantly, with his eyes on me, Peter allowed his father to take his gun.

  “A bigger load of bull I’ve never heard,” I snarled, trying to figure out if there was any way I could knock Andrew and his nasty blade away from me, so that Peter could snatch back his gun, but Andrew, the bastard, must have read my mind, because he twisted one of my arms up behind my back the better to hold me securely, sending a cascade of pugs to the ground. Luckily, they landed in the sandbox.

  “You bastard!” I yelled as the pugs scampered back to their mom. “You could have hurt them!”

  Peter turned to his grandmother, his eyes flashing with that strange light that I’d seen once before. “Lenore Faa, you have heard my charges against your grandson. You know what steps the L’au-dela will take should you harm me. What I don’t think you know is what I will do should you allow Kiya to be harmed in any way.”

  The old lady had been silent through most of the mockery of a trial, her gaze on her gnarled hands as they petted a pug, her lined face absent of any emotion. She looked up at Peter now, her expression unreadable. “Do you claim her as wife, then?”

  “I do.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re still working that out,” I piped in, giving Peter a look that told him I was aware of the gravity of the situation, but that I was not one to be pushed into anything, especially something so important as marriage. He returned it with a look that told me to stop sending him meaning-filled looks when he was busy trying to save our asses. I batted my lashes at him. He pursed his lips and turned back to Mrs. Faa.

  “She will be my wife.”

  “You do not know who her family is. She is mahrime, unacknowledged and unwanted by them,” Mrs. Faa pointed out.

  “So is Peter, and I think he’s pretty damned wonderful,” I said, bristling a little. Terrance left Mrs. Faa and tried to mate with a stuffed toy dropped by one of the kids. “And as the saying goes, mahrime is all in the mind.”

  She shot me a curious look.

  “I just made it up. It sounds good. I like it,” I said somewhat defensively. “You guys take that whole pureblood thing way too far. Didn’t you ever hear that diversity was good for bloodlines?”

  “I don’t care who her family was. I don’t care that she’s mahrime like me. I simply want her.”

  “He loves me,” I told Mrs. Faa, giving Peter a bright smile.

  He looked faintly startled. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You don’t have to. What man would declare in front of his grandma and annoyingly irritating dad, and rest of the family, that he wants to marry a woman without him being in love with her? It’s OK. I know how guys are; I won’t make you say the words in front of them. But boy, when we’re alone, we’re going to have a long, long talk.”

  “You can have that talk now,” Andrew said, shoving me forward toward William’s RV. “But if I were you, I’d make it about which one of you is going to be sacrificing his or her life, because if you don’t decide, we will.” He gave my arm a jerk. “And I know who I will pick.”

  Peter was on him in a flash, but alas, Andrew was expecting it, and yanked me in front of him to serve as a shield.

  “Aren’t you going to stop this?” I demanded of Mrs. Faa.

  She sat still for a few seconds, then slowly turned to look at me. “The kris has spoken. It is out of my hands.”

  “You’re willing to sit there and let your family kill me or your own grandson?” I asked in disbelief. “Are you a monster?”

  “You will cease speaking to her,” Andrew said, yanking my arm until tears started in my eyes.

  Peter snarled something in a language that wasn’t English. Andrew answered in kind, then turned and shoved me into the RV. I whacked my shin on the stairs as I fell forward, but strong hands and stronger arms were there picking me up before I could get the first curse out of my mouth.

  The door was slammed behind us. I stood on one leg, rubbing my shin, leaning into Peter as he asked, “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

  “Yes, and not really. I just tripped and smacked my shin. Peter, what are we going to do? They have your gun. Can Sunil get it from them, do you think?”

  “Not for another tw
elve hours or so.” He frowned and sat down, pulling me onto his lap.

  “Why twelve hours?”

  “That’s how long it takes to recharge his physical energy. He used up most, if not all, of it when he undid the tape on my wrists. Animi have limited abilities to interact in the physical world, and it takes them some time to recover when they do. No, the best we can hope from him is that he eavesdrops and lets us know what they’re planning.”

  “I think it’s pretty clear what they’re planning,” I said, wrapping my arms around him, offering what comfort I could, but also seeking it for the horrible sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “They want to kill one of us to pay for something we didn’t do. Not that I think Gregory is dead in the first place. He has to be in it, Peter. He has to be just as guilty as Andrew. He’s hiding so that William can tell your grandmother that we killed Gregory. And dammit, I don’t think there’s a thing we can do to stop them.”

  “I’m not going to let them harm you,” he said, squeezing me, and pressing a kiss to my neck where Andrew had held the knife.

  “Likewise, but how are we going to stop them? They have your gun, and at least one knife, and I’m willing to bet if push comes to shove, your cousins will stop any attack you make on William or Andrew.”

  “There’s Dalton,” he said slowly.

  “Call him and tell him to bring a great big horde of paranormal policemen,” I instructed, sliding off his lap so he could dig his cell phone out of his pocket.

  Peter hit the button for Dalton, but shook his head a minute later and turned off the phone. “Voice mail. That’s not like him. He normally answers no matter what the time of day.”

  “Well, then, we’ll just have to keep trying.” I paced up and down the narrow aisle, trying to prod my brain into a solution for our dilemma. “We’ll have to stall them if they try to force us into giving an answer. Sooner or later Dalton will pick up, and then we’ll get help. How long do you think they’ll give us—”

  A pounding on the door interrupted me, followed by a voice yelling, “You have five more minutes, then we’ll decide for you.”

  “I have got to learn to keep my questions to myself,” I grumbled. “OK. We have to calm down.”

  “I’m perfectly calm,” Peter said, watching me pace back and forth in front of him.

  “So am I.” I glared at my hands. “Except for my hands. Look, they’re actually wringing each other. I’ve never even seen hand-wringing except where it’s mentioned in books, and now I’m doing it. Do you see what they’ve driven me to? We have to get out of here, Peter. Maybe we can slip out of a window or something without them seeing us.”

  “They’ll simply come after us. No.” He stood up. “I have to end this now. I will have to take Andrew into custody, and deal with William somehow.”

  I had visions of the bleeding, unconscious Peter lying on my air mattress, and fear unlike anything I’ve known gripped me. I grabbed his arms to stop him from leaving. “They’ll kill you, Peter! Oh, don’t get that offended look like I’m impugning your manhood or something like that—I know under normal circumstances that you can take them down, but we’re unarmed, and they aren’t. They’ve already stabbed you twice—what makes you think they won’t finish off the job now that they’ve decided one of us has to die? Oh, god, Peter.” The last three words were spoken on a sob. “I don’t want you to die.”

  “Because you love me?” he said, a little smile twitching one side of his mouth.

  I punched him in the arm, then leaned into him, breathing in his scent, that wonderfully woodsy scent. “I’m just used to you and your magnificent beefy penis, that’s all.”

  He held me close, long enough for me to cry a couple of silent tears onto his collar. “I’ll find a way out, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

  “We’re a team, you annoying timey-wimey Travelling man,” I sniffled.

  “We are not Doctor Who. Travellers seldom time travel. Even for savants, it’s too risky.”

  “Stop being so pedan—” I stopped and pulled away from him. “What did you say?”

  “I said we seldom time travel because it’s too risky.” His gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Why are you looking happy all of a sudden?”

  “Savants? Like the brilliant people who can do math or play piano without ever learning kind of savants?”

  “More or less. With regards to Travellers, it simply means we are…more.”

  “We? You’re one?”

  “I am.”

  “More what?”

  “Just more.”

  “Like extra-oomph powers? You’re a super Traveller?”

  “We do not have any more powers. We are just more…I suppose focused would be a good word.”

  I pinched his arm. “You’re a super-focused Traveller savant and you didn’t tell me?”

  He made a little face. “I didn’t think it was important.”

  “Don’t you see? That’s the answer, Peter!”

  He said nothing for the count of three; then his eyes widened in understanding. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, it is not the answer. Kiya, you are unlearned in the ways of Travellers, and you do not understand what you are saying.”

  “Mrs. Faa said that you can time travel, and that if you take enough time, you can actually zap back in time. You’re a savant! That means you can do it more easily than others. You just said you were more focused and stuff. All you have to do is take enough time to go back to when your cousins stole your vial, and make sure they don’t do it. Then you can turn it in to the authorities, and this whole mess with Gregory will be avoided.”

  “No, Kiya. It’s not possible.”

  “Why isn’t it possible?”

  He gripped my arms and gave me a gentle shake before kissing me on my forehead. “Because the only person close enough for me to take enough time from in order to Travel is you. And I will not do that.”

  “Because of the shuvani being pissed like she was at your grandpa?” I gave him a little headshake. “This isn’t like that. He took the Nazis’ time without their permission. I will give you mine, so it’s no different from your troll selling you time.”

  “That is not the only reason. The amount of time I’d have to take in order to go back four days is too much.”

  It was my turn to shake him. “But I’m willing to give up four days of my time. So long as you come find me after you turn the vial over to Dalton, that is.”

  Sadness filled his eyes. “It’s not the taking of time itself that poses the risk. The shuvani frowns on Travellers using their skills to Travel. One way they keep us from zipping back and forth through time is to create the potential risk of death.”

  “To who? The Traveller or the donator?”

  “Either. Both.”

  I looked at Peter, my heart sinking. Someone pounded on the door again. “One minute left!”

  “Are you willing to take that risk?” I asked him.

  “No.” His thumb brushed first my cheek, then my lower lip. “You are too precious to me.”

  I turned my face to kiss his palm. “I don’t think we have any other way. If we leave this RV, your family is going to kill one of us, and it’s obvious your grandmother isn’t going to stop them.”

  “I will not risk your life,” he said, his face set in an obstinate expression.

  “You don’t know for certain that the shuvani will punish you. Peter, we have to take this chance. Dalton is out of reach. Sunil can’t help us. They are armed, and we aren’t. If you can think of a cunning plan to get us out of this, speak now, because otherwise, I think you’re going to have to go back in time four days and get us out of this fix.”

  He didn’t like it. I could tell he really did not like it, but he had to admit that we were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and there was just nothing else we could do.

  “If I am responsible for your death—,” he started to say, his fingers biting into my arms.

  I bit the end of his nose. “I promis
e I’ll come back as a ghost and haunt you mercilessly. Peter…”

  “You love me,” he said, nodding as he made that statement.

  “Dammit, I wanted to say it!” I pinched his side, then leaned into him, my mouth brushing his. “I really think I do love you, you know. I don’t know when it happened, but it did. I love your gorgeous Elizabeth Taylor eyes, and your wonderful chest with the lightning flower, and your ass and Mr. Beefy, and your sense of humor, and the way you pretend you’re all business but really aren’t. I love you, Peter Faa, and when this is done, I am going to marry you and make you the happiest man who ever lived. Now tell me you love me.”

  “What makes you think I do?”

  I stepped on his foot.

  “Ow!” He laughed, then kissed me swiftly. “I will tell you I love you when this nightmare is over.” He looked at me long and hard. “Kiya—”

  “No.” I put my fingers over his mouth. “It’ll be OK. We’ll both be OK because the shuvani will realize we’re just trying to put things right and bring a murderer to justice.”

  “That doesn’t concern the shuvani in the least,” he said behind my fingers.

  I replaced them with my mouth. “Do it,” I whispered against his lips. “Take the time you need from me to Travel back four days. I give it to you freely. Do it now, Peter.”

  His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting, claiming, and twining around my own until my body tingled as if I were holding a live wire. I opened my eyes as the kiss ended, and saw lightning in his violet eyes. The blue white light in them blinded me, consuming me, until I fell headlong into it, and was no more.

  SEVENTEEN

  “You know that saying about lightning never strikes twice in the same place? Well, I’m the living proof that it’s totally false.” I blinked in surprise at the words, then stood up and cheered. “He did it! And I’m alive! Woohoo!”

  “Who did what? Aaaa…aaaa—”

  “—choo,” I finished for Dalton. I looked around the walk-in clinic’s small reception area, nodding when it appeared to be exactly the same as I remembered it.