Time's Enemy: A Romantic Time Travel Adventure (Saturn Society Book 1) (32 page)

Tony pushed her away as the lightness inside him turned to lead. What had she done? Had she led Pippin to him?

She couldn’t have.
“He’s in the bathroom,” Tony said. “How did—”

“But he jumped...” Perplexity twisted her features. Tony looked from Charlotte to the bathroom door, then back at her. “Didn’t you feel it?” she asked.

“Feel what?” What was she talking about? Then it hit him. The dizzy spell right before she walked in. It was Pippin who’d warped. Tony pounded on the bathroom door. “Hey!”

“He’s gone, Tony.”

He rattled the doorknob and studied the lock. A simple one. He snatched a credit card from his wallet, slid it down the door jamb, and yanked the door open.

The bathroom was empty.

“Holy shit.” He gaped into the vacant room, leaning on the door frame—

Charlotte gasped. “Tony, you’re hurt!”

“What? Oh, that.” The gash on his side. The blood had already begun to congeal. “Just a little scratch. No big deal.” He stepped into the bathroom and yanked his shirt up. The action pulled at the cut and brought a fresh burst of pain. Tony sucked in a breath through his teeth.

Charlotte rushed in. “Here, let me...” She turned on the water, grabbed a washcloth and wet it. Tony clenched his jaw as she dabbed at the cut until it was clean. “This doesn’t look so little to me. We ought to call for first aid but there’s no time... I’ll wrap it the best I can, then we’ll go—”

“Go where?”

She squeezed the washcloth under the tap. The water came out brownish-pink. “We have to hurry, the hotel staff’s calling the cops—”

“What?” What had she done?

“Theodore. For tying me up in the car and stealing a waiter’s uniform. We have to leave before they get here, they’ll delay us, and Caruthers—”

Tony braced his hands on his hips. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I get some answers. Starting with Theodore Pippin. What is he to you?”

She dropped the washcloth into the sink, the water still running. “Tony... I was nine years old when I started to jump in time. I was scared to death. I had no idea what was happening or how to stop it. Then Theodore came and taught me how to control it. He gave me my life back. Please understand, I owe him so much...” She squeezed the water out of the washcloth once more, gripping it tightly. “Almost as much as I owe you,” she whispered. “I’d never hurt you, Tony. Ever.” She sniffled, then reached over the sink and shut off the water. “I— I didn’t tell him where you were, he found out on his own, guessed you’d gone to a hotel. Please, believe me.” She held onto the sink. Her lower lip twitched.

Tony’s heart squeezed. He wanted to believe she had nothing to do with Pippin’s attack. He wanted to take her into his arms again, tell her it was all right, smooth the worry lines from her face. But he needed more answers first. “Then why did you let me stay with you? When you knew he’d come after me? Why didn’t you tell me to leave town?”

The water in the sink gurgled as the last of it went down the drain.

She started to fiddle with her necklace, but stopped short. Her lips parted, and the tip of her tongue poked between her teeth.

Tony walked to the hotel room door, pushed it shut and latched it, then came back and gently took hold of her arm. He led her to the bed, then lightly pressed her shoulder until she sat perched on its edge. Her voice hitched. “You... you should do something about that cut.”

“It can wait.” He lowered himself into the chair opposite her. “Now, tell me—”

“You’re in the Black Book.” Her words came fast. “It was just a matter of time before Theodore found you. If not him, someone else—”

“What’s the Black Book?”

“A Society publication. The Enemies of Time. They’re from here and now, and from the future. From the past, too, even though everyone knows you can’t jump ahead in time. They’ve all done something, or will do something, to upset the balance, manipulate time to serve—”

“To serve their own ends.” He pushed himself out of the chair, paced to the window, kept his back to her.

“Theodore’s made it his life’s mission to stop them. It’s his passion, a personal crusade. And you’re...” She fingered her collar. “I don’t know why you’re in the Black Book, but Theodore will do whatever it takes to capture you and make sure you can never do it again.”

He turned to Charlotte, his face hardening. “How did he know I was here? In 1933?”

“He felt you jump. Like you did when he jumped. Theodore’s so intent on finding Enemies of Time, whenever he feels someone jump, he seeks them out. To offer hospitality, since that’s the Society’s mission, but if... if it’s someone from the Book, then... take care of them.”

The flyers on the wall in the fifties. They must’ve been from the Black Book.

“What did you do?” Charlotte spoke barely above a whisper.

“Nothing!” His head whipped around to face her. “I’ve done nothing.” Yet. Did his place in the book—and on that wall in 1954—mean he would achieve his goal and prevent Bethany’s death, but at the cost of making himself a wanted man?

“I- I never believed you belonged in the book.” She examined the floral print of her dress and smoothed her skirt. “It must be something you’ve yet to do.” She gave the skirt a final brush and met his eyes. “Something I thought I could prevent, if I kept you with me. I thought I could save you...” She pushed herself up from the bed with care, as if the act pained her.

Tony couldn’t stand it. He strode to her side and swept her into his arms. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” he murmured into her hair. A sense of déjà vu from their time in the attic struck him, reminded him of when he held her and spoke the same words. The same words, yet so different with her a grown woman. Her arms tightened around his back. He pulled her against him, drank in her flowery fragrance and the warmth of her body pressed against his.

Other parts of him became aware of her nearness and sprang to life. He whirled around and walked away before she saw, then winced when the movement pulled at the cut on his side. “Ouch! Get me a towel, will you?”

She ran to the bathroom. Thankfully, the pain and the reminder someone had tried to kill him diverted his body’s awareness from Charlotte’s proximity. “Will he come after me again?”

“No.” She handed him the towel. He unbuttoned his shirt to slide it underneath. “He can’t. Not right away. Theodore’s over fifty years old, so he had to have jumped at least that far back. Whenever he went, he won’t be able to return for at least a couple weeks, and then there’s recovery.”

“Then I don’t have to worry about him. By the time he gets back I’ll be long gone.”

“But Dr. Caruthers—”

“Who’s he?”

“From Cleveland. He’s a horrible man, and he’s on his way here, right now. He’ll never believe you’re innocent, no matter what I say. We have to leave.” Her voice caught. “Please, Tony.”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t think so. I’ve tried to get answers from you all week and every time you manage to change the subject. I can hide myself.”

“But there are others! They’ve all seen the Black Book—”

“So let them kill me. If I can’t find out what I want to know, I might as well get sent home sooner—”

“They won’t kill you.” Her voice quieted and grew threatening. “They’ll hurt you enough to silence you. Then they’ll take you to the Society House and do terrible things... please, Tony...” A siren wailed in the distance.

The surgery and medication Everly said they’d used on that Fred guy. Tony’s gut clenched. He could end up like that if he hadn’t eluded Pippin.

The unease in his stomach settled like puzzle pieces falling into place. “All right. On one condition. Tell me what I need to do to—”

“There’s no time!” She leaned toward the door, as if her stance would compel Tony to follow. “We have to go, now! Please, come with me, and I’ll... ” She made a tiny choking sound. “I’ll answer all your questions. Anything you want to know.” Tony didn’t move. She gripped his elbow. “Tony... if Caruthers finds us...”

Tony mulled over his prospects. If he stayed at the Gibbons, Caruthers would force another confrontation. One Tony could lose, and wind up a mindless, drooling zombie.

Or he could leave. Alone. But Charlotte was right, there was no telling when or where he might run into another Society vigilante who would recognize him.

Or he could go with her.

She’d put herself on the line for him.

And she’d promised to tell him what he needed to know. “Where do you suggest we go?” He struggled to button his shirt over the towel.

“My brother owns some property in southeast Ohio. No one will find us there. If we hide out for a few days, Caruthers will go back to Cleveland.”

“What about you? Won’t he come back—”

“By the time he does, Theodore will have returned and recovered.” She swallowed. “He’ll protect me.”

“And by then, I’ll be gone,” Tony said.

“Yes.” She fingered the necklace beneath her dress. “If we get out of here quickly. My brother’s place is way out in the middle of nowhere, by the Clearwater River. There’s a little cabin where we can stay—”

“Yeah, but how are we going to get there? Sunday night, I’ll doubt we’ll find a taxi, or anywhere to rent a car—”

“We can take Theodore’s.”

“You mean steal it?”

“I prefer the term borrow.”

Tony’s hands stilled on the buttons of his shirt. Him? A car thief?
Come on, Solomon, the guy tried to kill you.
“Okay.” Pippin deserved to have his car stolen, and then some. Tony pulled on his jacket, glad it hid the bulk of the towel in case they encountered anyone.

He pulled the door open, then stopped when Charlotte dashed back to the other side of the bed. “This might come in handy.” She grabbed Pippin’s knife and slid it into her purse.

The sirens grew nearer as they slipped out the door, down a service stairwell and out the back entrance.

The car’s deep maroon finish gleamed, even in the dim light cast by the parking lot’s single street lamp. Shiny and new, a chrome emblem on the car’s side told him it was a Packard, and judging from the size of the engine compartment, a well-powered one. Catching time-criminals must pay well.

They had one more problem. “Keys?” Tony asked.

“Key— oh, no, I completely forgot!” Her crestfallen expression lasted only a second. “But maybe I can get it started without one.”

“You mean hotwire it?” He glanced around the lot. Deserted.

“It seems our best option, don’t you think?” She yanked open the driver’s side door. “Keep a lookout while I see what I can do.” Tony walked around the car and ran his hand over the smooth fenders while she fumbled around beneath the dash. Hell, he didn’t have a clue how to hotwire a car, yet she acted like anyone could do it.

“Fiddlesticks!” She raised up. “I can’t see a blasted thing! Grab the lighter out of my pocketbook, will you? It’s in my cigarette case. Oh, and bring Theodore’s knife, too.”

Tony dug into her purse and located the filigreed, silver box beneath the knife. He returned to her side and thumbed the flint wheel.

“Over here.” She held out a hand, and he placed the knife’s handle in it. She groped under the dash and scraped the insulation off a wire. “Tony? Theodore keeps a toolbox in the back—he should have a pair of pliers in there.” Tony got them for her, then flipped the lighter again.

The knife’s polished silver caught enough light he could read the etched letters beneath the symbol. “What’s the number for?”

“Number?”

“On the knife.”

“Oh that. It’s the year Theodore passed his Second Rite. The Society likes us to carry knives for self defense as opposed to firearms. Less likely to be anachronistic in the past.”

“What’s the Second—”

The car roared to life. Charlotte pulled her head from beneath the dash, straightened, then slid into the driver’s seat. She pulled the car door shut without slamming it. Tony did the same on the passenger side, his question forgotten.

“We’ll make a quick stop at my house to pick up a few things, then head for my brother’s,” she said. “I might be able to start a car without the key, but the padlock on the fishin’ shack is another story.”

Fishin’ shack? Oh, God.
It was all coming true. As much as he’d fought it, as determined as he was for it not to happen. What was it she’d said the first evening they spent together? Some things are simply fated to be. Was their doomed relationship one of them?

Fishin’ Shack
, read the childish, hand-lettered sign next to the cabin’s door. Charlotte unlocked the door and pushed it open. Rusty hinges squealed.

Dust swirled in the shafts of sunlight streaming in through the window. Tony carried in the box of provisions they’d bought with his 1929 money, then took a moment to catch his breath. Luckily, the half-mile trek through the woods from where they’d parked Pippin’s car had all been downhill, but it was still an effort, burdened with the food and supplies.

He gazed around the cabin.
Shack is right.
Its single room wasn’t much bigger than his apartment’s second bedroom. A dusty, but not unpleasant dry lumber smell permeated the air. A tingly sensation slid down his throat, an odd mix of trepidation and desire at the thought of sharing such close confines with Charlotte.