Revolution in Time (Out of Time #10) (9 page)

Knowing it was destined to fail, but trying anyway, he set the date and location, then pulled on the stem. For a split second, he hoped that somehow it would work, even without an eclipse, that somehow it would take him back to her. But there was no blue light. The world didn’t stop.
 

He glared down at it then clenched it in his fist and turned to leave. Wells stood in the doorway to the bedroom. “They might not help us, you know.”

Simon didn’t care. He knew the Council leadership had changed. But none of that mattered. Whoever they were, he would make them see. “They will.”

He forced his way past security and down into Council headquarters. More security was waiting for him when the elevator doors opened. His watch clutched tightly in his hand, Simon started for Travers’ office. Two very large men stood in his way.

“I need to see Travers,” Simon said, managing, barely, to control his rage. “Now.”

The two guards looked at each other. One stepped forward and Simon raised his hands ready to fight. Next to him, Wells did the same.

“There’s no need for that.”

A tall, balding man in his early fifties stepped out into the foyer behind the guards. His voice, his bearing, everything about him was British. Surely, Simon could make him understand.

“It’s all right,” he told the two large men, who took a pace backward. He stepped toward Simon, buttoning the middle button of his pinstripe suit jacket as he did. He held out his hand to shake. “Mr. Cross, I’m George Hawkins.”

“I need the watches turned back on. Where’s Travers?”

Hawkins nodded toward one of the guards who set off, presumably to find Travers; then he held his hands in front of him in a placating gesture. “I understand you’re upset.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m the new director.”

“The new …?” Simon should have paid more attention to what Wells had said, but it hardly mattered now. “Then you can turn them on.”

Without an eclipse, Simon would have to use the Council’s chamber to leave, but he’d have the watch to return with. He started toward the hall that housed the chamber, but the remaining guard stepped into his path.
 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Hawkins said.

Simon turned back and glared at him. “I don’t think you understand. My wife—”

“Is dead.”

The words, the flat way he said them, made them truer than they’d seemed before, and Simon flinched. Next to him, he felt Wells move a little closer.

It had only been a few hours. “How do you know that?”
 

Hawkins clasped his hands in front him. “It’s our job to know, isn’t it? Past, present, future. It’s a tragedy, but—”

Simon strode toward him, but the big meaty hand of the guard on his chest stopped him in mid-step. The tethers to Simon’s emotions frayed by the second. He struggled to keep control of them. As much as he hated the Council, as much as he wanted to wipe that sanctimonious expression off Hawkins’ face, he needed them both.

Simon took a breath. “This can be fixed. Isn’t that what the Council does?”

Hawkins bowed his head in agreement. “It is.” He arched an eyebrow. “This, however unfortunate, was meant to be, I’m afraid.”

Simon shook his head and refused to even consider the possibility. “No. You’re lying.”

“I wish I were. Sincerely.”

Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to Simon, and he wondered why he hadn’t considered it before. “Did you do this?”

Hawkins frowned and Simon took a small step closer.

He’d never trusted the Council. “Did you kill her?”

“No.”
 

Simon turned to see Travers and the other guard. His face was white and drawn as he approached.
 

“I’m so sorry.”

Simon felt off-balance, his head swam with anger and fear.
 

“It was a horrible, horrible accident,” Travers said. “Gas, they said.”

“Then turn on the watches, let me go back. Let me undo this.” It was half plea, half demand.

Travers looked at him sadly, his eyes bright with emotion. His voice broke some as he spoke. “Some things cannot be undone.”

Simon shook his head. “No.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He reached out to put a comforting hand on Simon’s arm, but Simon shrugged him off. “Stop being sorry and turn on the damn watch.”

Travers looked to Wells for help, understanding. “If I could …”

Simon shook his head. They were not going to stop him. He had a way to save her in the palm of his hand. He was going to use it.
 

He started toward the chamber, but the guard blocked his path.

“Get out. Of. My way.”

“Mr. Cross, please,” Hawkins said.

“Get out. Of my way.”

The guard didn’t budge, and Simon threw a quick punch that landed squarely on his jaw. He stumbled back and Simon rushed forward. The other guard grabbed him from behind.

“Simon!” Jack called out as the two struggled.

“Let go of me!”

Simon spun around and hit the second guard, but he didn’t go down. He grabbed onto Simon’s other arm, knocking the watch out of his hand. It fell to the floor.

Simon shoved the guard out of the way and tried to escape down the hall. He would use the chamber without it. He would stay back in time forever if he could be with her.

He’d barely gone two steps when they grabbed him. One of them wrapped their arm around his neck. Simon clawed at his arm as it pressed against his windpipe. He had to get to her.

He pulled at the guard’s arm with all of his might, but it wasn’t enough. The darkness came slowly and then, finally, it swallowed him whole.

H
ER
BRAIN
HURT
. A
S
she slowly came awake, Elizabeth realized her whole body hurt a little. It felt stiff and tired. What had happened?

Was she hurt? She pressed her hand to her stomach and tried to clear her mind, to think of nothing but the baby. Her heart raced then slowed as she realized she was okay and Charlotte was all right.

She pushed out a relieved breath and opened her eyes. Her head swam as she tried to make sense of things.

Where was she?

The last thing she remembered was being in the cabin waiting for Jack and Simon to get back from the market. There’d been a noise upstairs and she’d gone to investigate. Something had fallen off a small bookcase near the window. The wind must have blown the curtain against it and knocked it off. She hadn’t remembered opening the window, but maybe Simon had.
 

Simon. She sat up, looking around the room for him as she tried to sort everything out. He wasn’t there. Her head throbbed mercilessly.

She remembered seeing him walking up the drive and then … and then someone touched her arm and she’d turned. She could almost remember the person’s face, but the memory kept slipping away.

She couldn’t remember anything after that. And she’d woken up here. Wherever here was.

She slid her feet off the bed and stood. Her legs were a little wobbly at first, but the dead feeling in them went away quickly. Her head began to clear.

A single oil lamp burning on the dresser next to the bed illuminated the dark room. Nestled at its base was a small nosegay of familiar deep blue flowers.
 

She glanced around the room. She’d seen this room. She’d been
in
this room before.

She hurried to the window to look out, knowing what she’d see before she saw it. Lit by a large half-moon, she saw the expanse of sloping lawn, shade trees and garden, and Teddy’s enormous barn. She saw a glimmer of light coming from one of its windows.

None of this made sense. She wasn’t even sure if she was dreaming or not. But if there were answers to be had, she’d lay even money that she’d find them in that barn.
 

Moving cautiously because her world was still one giant box of what the hell, she made her way downstairs. The house was quiet and the floorboards creaked, but no one came to investigate and no one answered when she worked up the nerve and managed a quiet ‘hello.’
 

She went outside and started across the lawn. It was wet with evening dew that glistened in the moonlight. Little fairy-like lights flashed on and off at the edge of the woods, and a great horned owl hooted softly above.

She reached the edge of the barn. The “danger” sign made her think of Simon again. Where was he?
 

Swallowing down her fear, she eased open the inset barn door. The hinges squeaked loudly and she winced, but she kept on.

There was a single overhead light burning at the far side of the barn. Teddy’s machine was still there. Carefully, she made her way around it. Both doors to the cellar were open, inviting her in. She walked over to them and saw the edge of the wooden steps leading down into darkness. She could hear Simon’s voice in her head telling her not to be silly; there was uranium stored there.
 

But there were answers down there as well, and she needed them.

She held onto the edges of the doorway and slowly made her way down the steps. She reached out into the darkness and felt a wooden handrail. She clutched it as she walked down further into the cellar.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and her eyes adjusted. There was a short hallway then another door. This one was cold and metal. She opened it slowly and stepped inside.

“What the …?”

She’d been here before, too. Except it hadn’t been here then, it had been in San Francisco. Teddy’s laboratory. Somehow, beneath the barn, he’d built a replica of his enormous mad scientist laboratory, complete with Tesla coils and Faraday cage.

A small man sat on a stool at a tall drafting table.

“Teddy?”

He turned and grinned up at her. “You’re awake.”
 

He jumped off the stool and came toward the bottom of the stairs. “I know your head hurts. Feel achy? It’ll pass. The machine affects different people differently. Which makes sense since they’re different people.”

Elizabeth continued down the stairs, still confused.

“Do you want some water? I could get you some water?”

She shook her head, still confused, still trying to process. She looked around the room, taking it all in, searching for anything that would tell her … something.

The lab wasn’t exactly the same as it had been in San Francisco. The Faraday cage was considerably bigger, and there were large cables attached to it now. But Teddy was the same. He hadn’t aged a day since she’d last seen him.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where’s Simon?”

Before Teddy could answer, a loud voice bellowed from the top of the stairs. “She is gone. I told you, we should lock the—”

“Victor?”

He glared down at her with an expression of both relief and disgust that was so very French. “I should have known.”

She saw it now, as clear as it had happened. Victor had been the one who’d grabbed her by the window. It was all still a little blurry. She hadn’t seen Victor since they’d been sent together on that mission to save Jack the Ripper. Now, he was here?

“What’s going on?” she asked.

He came down the stairs and glared at Teddy, who merely shrugged. Elizabeth looked from one to the other.
 

“Someone better tell me what’s going on. Where’s Simon?”

Victor’s expression darkened.
 

Her heart skipped a beat. “Is he all right? What’s going on?”

Victor frowned. “He is unharmed, but I can assure you, he is far from all right.”

~~~

Jack leaned against the doorway and watched Simon. He’d woken up shortly after they’d been escorted out of Council headquarters and hadn’t said a word since. That was over six hours ago.
 

Jack had managed to bring him home, but Simon was little more than a shell of a man. He walked; he sat; he stared.

“You should try to get some sleep.”

No response.

Jack could only imagine the anguish Simon was feeling. And he was the cause of it. It took everything in him not to tell Cross the truth, but then it all would have been for nothing. Just a few more days, he told himself. Just a few more days of watching his best friend wish he was dead.

When Travers had told him the plan, Jack had balked. Simon lived and breathed for Elizabeth. Losing her would kill him. It would be worse than killing him.

But in the end, Jack had relented and agreed to the plan. It seemed the only way to save Elizabeth and Charlotte.
 

It was an incredibly complex execution of events; they had to kill Elizabeth before the Council did. And the only way to convince them that she was really dead was sitting lost in an endless mire of grief on the sofa in front of him. No one could pretend that level of grief. It appeared real to the Council because it was. And so far, they seemed to believe Elizabeth was truly gone. They’d be watching, though. And so the play had to continue. And Simon had to suffer.

All they could do now was wait for the Council’s next move. It sounded so simple. But looking at the man before him—there was nothing simple about this.

Maybe someday Simon would forgive him.

Jack stepped into the den and put the glass of water he’d gotten ten minutes ago onto the coffee table in front of Simon.

“I wish there was something I could do,” he said.

“Get out.”

The words were soft and rough.

“I know you—”

“Get out.”

“I can’t. I—”

With more agility than Jack gave him credit for, Simon sprang up and off the sofa. He grabbed Jack by the front of his chest and with three quick strides shoved him up against the wall. Cross’ eyes were red-rimmed and wild.

“Leave me alone.”

Jack didn’t fight back. “I can’t.”

He pulled Jack off the wall and threw him toward the open doorway. “Get out.”

Jack caught his balance and stood his ground.
 

Simon turned away, his back rising and falling as he tried to control his breathing.
 

Jack wouldn’t be put off. Couldn’t be. “Do you remember when you asked me to look after Elizabeth if anything ever happened to you?”