Final Hours (19 page)

Authors: Cate Dean

BOOK: Final Hours

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Seventeen

It took another
month of healing and physical
therapy before Kane was ready to leave. His right arm still hurt him, as much
as he denied it, and Elizabeth saw how quickly he tired if he used it. She
would make sure he kept up his physical therapy, whenever they were able. With
any luck, they would tumble out of the portal and back in his time.

Elizabeth arranged a party their last night, to thank
everyone who offered so generously when they could hardly afford to cover their
own needs.

The party spilled out of the small cottage and to the wide
courtyard, a double celebration. The Battle of Britain, fought practically over
their heads, was headed for a decisive victory against Germany. A victory she
already knew would happen.

The late summer evening was mild, the wind soft, and
Elizabeth knew she would miss every single person here. Gryffyth joined her as
she stood at the edge of the courtyard.

“You should be enjoying your own party.”

“I am. I’m just going to miss all of you.”

He leaned down, kissed her temple. “That is mutual,
beautiful.” Then he surprised her by closing both hands over her shoulders. “Tell
me this—will you be safe?”

“Yes. As safe as anyone can be. Thank you, for worrying
about me.” A flush stained his cheeks, reminded her how young he was, for all
his bravado.

“If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

With a final squeeze of her shoulders, he left to join the
other revelers. Elizabeth watched him laugh and flirt with one of the local
girls, and her heart broke all over again, for everything she’d miss.

By the time the last people left, she was exhausted from
keeping up a happy façade.

Kane wrapped his left arm around her waist, and pressed a
kiss to the top of her head. “Tell me what is hurting you, Beth.”

“How do you do this? Get caught up with them, knowing you’ll
never see them again? Never know how their lives turned out?”

“Before now, I never spent enough time in one place to talk
to anyone, much less form attachments.” He let out a sigh. “My job was to keep
our agents from affecting the past. Now I am doing that, and worse.”

“What we did was put history back on track.” She brushed his
cheek. “I am sorry about Guy.”

He looked surprised. “I know it was self-defense, Beth. I
have never blamed you, not for the choice he forced you to make. What I would
like to know is how Harper persuaded him.”

“He strikes me as oily enough to resort to blackmail.”

Kane laughed. “You pegged him from the off.” His humor faded
as he studied her. “And he is the reason I need to find a way home. Before I
find yours, I’m afraid.”

Her heart skipped. “I’m not going anywhere. Not without
you.”

“Beth—”

“Argument over. You’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”

She let out a gasp as he hauled her against his chest and
kissed her until she couldn’t think.

When he finally freed her, she held on to him to keep from
falling over.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“I promise you, Beth, I will find a way to get us back to my
time.”

“I—”

He kissed her silent. This time they had to pause to catch
their breath.

“You touch me, love. No other woman has ever found their way
to my heart.” He tilted her chin until their eyes met. “I want you to be quite
sure before you make a commitment. I am not an easy man.”

“Two months in the same house with you told me that.”

His smile warmed her all the way to her toes. “I do like
you, Elizabeth Barritt. Another first for me.”

“I like being your first.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed
his cheek. “And I like you, Jackson Kane.”

His arm tightened, kept her there. “Kiss me again.”

“Okay.” She did, startled by the intensity in his eyes.
“What?”

“You really don’t see them, do you?” There was wonder, and
more than a little surprise in his quiet voice.

“See what?”

“Exactly.”

He kissed her, his lips gentle as he drew out the kiss, her
head spinning from the power of it. She slid her hands up, cradled his face,
and understood what he meant when her fingers brushed the scars on his right
cheek. Then he deepened the kiss and it was all she could do to breathe.

The wind picked up, and she gasped against his lips as it
sliced through her thin sweater. Kane eased back, and smiled at what she knew
was a look of stupid bliss on her face.

She laid her head against his chest, listening to the steady
beat of his heart. It was the last thing she heard every night, as she drifted
off. She wanted to do that every night for the rest of their lives. However
long that turned out to be.

“Beth.” She closed her eyes, loving the sound of his deep
voice. “I am afraid this next journey may be—”

“Fatal?” She lifted her head, met his surprised gaze. “I
know we’re taking a chance.”

“Why did you wait to say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“I will, so get used to it.” He brushed her lips one last
time. “Let’s get inside. We’ll need to dress warm.”

They crossed the yard and entered the cottage, turning off
lights, like they normally did, leaving a small lamp on in the larger bedroom.
Elizabeth had packed earlier, filling two backpacks with what she and Kane thought
they would need.

Once she changed into the loose black trousers and light,
but warm wool sweater, she helped Kane with his heavy sweater. He still had
trouble lifting his right arm. She gathered up the backpacks while he strapped
the transport to his wrist. A flash of blue caught her eye, and she unzipped
the outer pocket of her backpack. Her heart skipped when she saw the notebook
she left behind in his time. The edges were scorched, but other than that, it
was intact.

“Kane?” She held it up, watched as he turned around, and
froze, guilt written all over his face. “You looked, didn’t you?”

“Mac sent it with my transport. He thought you might want it
back. Yes, Beth, I saw just how incredibly talented you are.”

Heat spread across her face. “I’m not—I just sketch, to
capture what I see in the world.”

“I seemed to be one of those things you saw.”

She stared down at the notebook. “You have a striking face.
I couldn’t—help myself. My mind refused to let me sketch anything else. I
thought I’d get you out of my system by putting you on paper.”

“Did it work?” Damn him, he sounded amused.

“No—and you know it.”

She felt him move next to her, his body heat, the clean
woodsy scent of him, like a drug.

“I am thrilled it did not.” One finger tipped her chin up,
and his lips caught hers before she could take in a breath. “Life before you
was much less interesting.” He let her go, checked the knife on his belt, a
gift from Gryffyth, and picked up the backpack. “Ready?”

Elizabeth nodded and tucked the notebook in the main part of
her backpack, where it would be safe, before she swung the strap over her left
shoulder. Her right was still tender, the burns from Guy’s pistol flaring at
odd times. She didn’t need one of them to be now.

Kane turned off the lamp, waited for them to adjust to the
dark, and led her out the back door. They decided to leave in the back garden,
with the high outer wall of the castle there to block any prying eyes.

He stopped in the cleared center of the garden, touched the
small screen. It glowed, picking out his aristocratic profile. The profile that
took her breath away the first time she saw it.

“Kane?”

“What is it, love?” He lifted his head, his eyes glinting in
the dark. “No last minute change of heart, I hope?”

“No—just a question. Okay, two questions. How did you know
that I would be able to change what Guy did? That there was only so much time
before it became irreversible?”

“We did a—test.”

“What?” Shock had her stepping away from him. “You changed
history?”

“The portal is a technology we don’t always understand—a
technology so far beyond us, everything we do is barely one step above an
experiment. It is the reason there are so many protocols in place. Beth,” he
ran one hand through his hair. “The test was necessary, for the exact scenario
we just lived through. The historians chose a small thing, that would not
affect the future in a dramatic way if it didn’t happen.”

“What was it?”

“A Victorian artist who did not become famous. Have you
heard of John William Waterhouse?”

Her mind drew a blank, and she knew her artists. “No.” She
moved in, and took his arm, leaving his hand free. “And if I ever run across
this Waterhouse, I’m going to change history back.”

He kissed her temple. “There’s my spitfire.” His fingers punched
in the date, and Elizabeth watched it appear on the screen. His time, the day
they left. “This is the goal, but there are no guarantees. Are you certain you
still want to do this?”

“Absolutely.”

He smiled down at her. “A kiss for luck?”

She didn’t have time to say yes or no before his lips
covered hers. He spun the kiss out, pulling her close, his heart pounding under
her hands. By the time he let her go, she couldn’t see straight.

“Hold tight, love. This is going to be a bumpy ride.”
Elizabeth wrapped both hands around his arm, took a deep breath. “Ready?”

She nodded, and he pushed the button.

~***~

Thank you for
joining Elizabeth and Kane on their first adventure! Want more?
First
Breath
, book two in the series, and
Loving Kane
, a short
story that takes place right after
First Breath
are both
available at your favorite retailer.

Want to be the
first to know when the next book is released? Then join my list here:
http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list
.

Reviews mean so
much – and help other readers find books. If you enjoyed
Final Hours
,
please take a minute and leave a review, even if it’s a short one.

And now – a
teaser, just for you. Turn the page for a sneak peek of
First Breath
.

Excerpt from First Breath

The portal threw
Kane and Elizabeth into the
cold night air—and straight at a wall.

This time he couldn’t put himself between her and danger.
They both slammed into the wall, and tumbled to damp grass.

“Beth—” Kane rolled over, flinching at the movement.
Elizabeth was on his right, visible against the lighter stone, and hunched over
like she was in pain. “Talk to me, Beth.”

“Ouch,” she whispered. One hand pressed against her left
temple. “It doesn’t get any easier.”

His shoulder agreed; it ached like the devil. Hell, his
entire right side was stiff, and useless. That hardly surprised him. What did
surprise was the absence of nausea he usually experienced when he traveled with
an injury.

He pushed up to his knees. “Give me your hand, love.”

She started to straighten, and halted with low moan. “I
think my head hit harder than I first thought.”

Kane shot to his feet, ignoring his own pain. He knelt
beside her, used his stronger left arm to help her sit. When she lifted her
head, her waist length blonde hair slid away from her face—and revealed blood.
Too much blood.

“Stay still, now.” He settled her against his chest,
carefully tilted her chin, and used the moonlight to illuminate her face. Blood
streaked her left cheek, from a gash just below her hairline. “Hell.” His right
hand fumbled for the handkerchief in his pocket. Even now, after more than two
months of physiotherapy, he had little strength, and less control. Finally, he
grasped it, transferred it to his left hand. “You’ve got a right nasty gash,
love. I am sorry—this is going to sting.”

He touched the wound and she recoiled. “God—”

“I’m sorry. Please—I need you to keep still.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes when he dabbed at the blood.
“God, that hurts—
ow
—” Her voice spiraled up as she jerked away. “No
more—it feels like you’re drilling into my head.” She touched her forehead.
“Damn.”

“We need to get you out of this cold.” Kane looked around.
Aside from the wall stretching above them, the moonlight revealed nothing but
hills, field and trees. “Arm around my shoulders, now.”

“No—your shoulder—”

“Is strong enough.” The lie came out smoothly. Maybe because
he had been telling it to himself since he was injured.

“I can walk. Just help me stand.” She laid her hand on his
right arm, and froze. “Oh.” Her fingers dug in as she stared out at the
landscape.

Kane ignored the twinge. “You know where we are.”

She swallowed, turned her head. “I’ve never been here, but
I’ve seen hundreds of photos. That hill, the curve of the wall, they are
distinctive. I want to be wrong,” she whispered. “But I think we’re on
Hadrian’s Wall.” Her fingers brushed the pale stone. “The wrong side of
Hadrian’s Wall.”

~***~

Final Hours

Love in Time Book One

Cate Dean

No part of this
book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of
the author, except for use in any review. This is a work of fiction. The names,
characters, locales, and events are either pure invention or used fictitiously,
and all incidents come from the author’s imagination alone.

Cover design by Jes Richardson.

Books by Cate Dean

Love in
Time

Book One –
Final
Hours

Book Two –
First
Breath

Book 2.5 –
Loving
Kane

The Claire
Wiche Chronicles

Book 1 –
Rest
For The Wicked

Book 2 –
A
Gathering of Angels

Book 3 –
Carry
On Wayward Son

Book 4 –
Annie's
Song

Book 5 –
What
Doesn't Kill You