Wandering Soul (2 page)

Chapter Two

Summer Park, Florida—2015

Closing night for the play had brought in a full house. The performers were pouring everything they had into their lines, the crew backstage following their prompts with laser focus. Elsa could still feel the pull of it, all those artists in the act of creation, the emotions of the audience heightening the energy in the theatre.

She had used that energy to bring Dante back with her to her time. She couldn't believe it had worked, even with him standing right in front of her.

She kept a tight grip on his hand, his skin rough from crafting sets for the theatre. He'd been cold when he first arrived, but now she could feel the warmth of his body. Elsa leaned into it, staring up at him.

His eyes were a shade of hazel she'd never encountered before, the color seeming to shift as she watched. She could only see one of his eyebrows, gracefully echoing the shape of his eyes. His face was a perfect balance of strong lines and elegant angles. There was a slight cleft in his chin, and his nose was straight, neatly bisected by the porcelain mask that covered the right side of his face.

One of the actors on stage shouted a line loudly enough to snap Elsa out of her reverie. The play would be over soon, and they needed to leave before the audience filled the hallways of the theatre.

Elsa had consulted on the modern adaptation of
The Phantom of the Opera
now being performed outside her private box. If anyone saw her walking out of the theatre with a man dressed as a more classic version of the character, they would have questions she didn't want to answer.

She glanced at the door, and a flash of gold shining against the dark charcoal of the carpet caught her eye. She released Dante's hand and stooped down to pick up her ring. Well, not really
her
ring.

“This is yours.” She placed the ring in Dante's palm.

“My mother's ring. How is it that you possess this?”

“It's a very long story, and we really do need to leave.”

Elsa walked to the door and opened it a crack. She peered down the hallway in both directions. It was empty. When she turned back to him, he was sliding his mother's ring onto his pinky finger.

From Dante's perspective, he'd only been without the ring for a few minutes. Elsa had been wearing it for years.

Ironically, she, the time traveler, didn't have time to think about that at the moment. She bent down again to pick up the velvet cloak pooled at his feet. Standing on her tiptoes, she threw it around his shoulders, then fastened it at his neck.

The cloak was much shorter on him, but it would cover his face well enough. It was the mask she needed to hide. He frowned as she lifted the hood into place, tilting his head away from her so his face was even more hidden.

“People will ask questions if they see your mask,” she said, resting her hands on his shoulders for a moment. They were firm and warm, even through the layers of fabric. She pulled her hands away before she did something stupid, like lean in and kiss him. “I hope you understand.”

“I understand all too well.”

She threaded her arm through his elbow, then led him from the box and through the hallways of the theatre. She kept her pace as brisk as she could without being too conspicuous, hoping he wouldn't see anything too modern.

Elsa had funded the production in part so she had a say in what theatre they used. She had selected this one for its Victorian-inspired décor. Dark carpeting covered the floor, and ornate moldings offset floral designs painted on the walls. The light fixtures were made to look like candles, even down to the flame-shaped light bulbs.

They walked down the stairs to the lobby without encountering anyone. She let out a breath of relief and guided Dante toward the side exit.

The night air was muggy after the chill of the air-conditioning inside. A trash bin in the alley added a faint smell of garbage to the humidity. It wasn't the best first impression for Dante of the modern world, but the front exit wasn't an option. She couldn't risk him seeing cars driving by. She had things to explain first.

They walked around to the back of the theatre, where she had instructed the driver she'd hired for the night to wait. He was standing dutifully by the rear door of the limo, which he opened when he saw them.

She nodded at the driver, then slid into the back seat, pulling Dante in after her. Once the door was closed, she gave Dante the back bench seat to himself and took the one closest to the driver. She wanted to be sure the partition separating the front and back compartments of the limo remained closed. With what she and Dante had to discuss, Elsa didn't want anyone listening in.

“This is a carriage,” he said.

“Yes. I'm a little surprised you realized that.”

“It has a seating compartment set on four wheels, though they appear quite thick and heavy. I confess it more closely resembles a train car than any carriage I have seen, but there are no tracks for it to ride upon.”

She had planned to expose him to the modern world slowly, to give him time to adjust. She knew he had a keen intellect, but she hadn't known how observant he was.

They pulled away from the curb and he placed his hands on either side of the seat. Elsa had traveled to enough times before cars were invented to know it was second nature for those used to the jostling rides of a horse-drawn carriage. In the dim light, she could see Dante's head move from side to side as he looked around the compartment.

“A horseless carriage,” he said.

“Another astute observation.”

“Not so. It is apparent that we are moving, yet the coachman had not time to harness horses to the carriage. Also, there were no horses in the alley.”

She smiled, wishing she could see Dante's expression. She could almost hear the hint of a smile in his voice, as if he was joking with her.

“Have you seen a horseless carriage before?”

“Designs only. But promising work on many aspects of the invention is under way in several countries. I am sure we are on the brink of a great advancement. That is to say, those we have left behind.”

Elsa wasn't sure what he meant by that. Was it possible he had already figured out that she had brought him to another time?

She was counting on him being able to adapt, but this seemed a little fast. Then again, she'd only really observed Dante during the biggest ups and downs of his life, moments when his emotions had been strong enough to leave an imprint on the ring he wore.

Even after a century had passed, she felt the energy of those moments stirring in his ring when she bought it. She had been able to use their pull to travel back in time and witness his life.

As powerful as that pull had always been, it was nothing compared to being in Dante's actual physical presence. His touch was intoxicating. Addictive.

Elsa needed to keep her distance. She was supposed to be helping him. Dante would be relying on her to guide him through his new life, his new world. It was her job to protect him, and the weight of that responsibility was only just settling on her shoulders.

For a floundering moment, she wondered if she was completely out of her depth.

“I do not know whether to feel obliged to you or fearful,” he said.

“I prefer neither. I'm here to help you, Dante.”

“You know my name. I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I'm Elsa. Elsa Sinclair.”

“Dante Lucerne,” he said.

“I know.”

After a brief silence, he said, “May I ask you some questions, Miss Sinclair?”

“Please, call me Elsa.”

“Very well, Elsa.”

Hearing him say her name sent a shiver down her spine. She rubbed her arms to tame the goose bumps running wild along her skin.

“Please, take this.” He took off the cloak and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She folded the cloak on her lap.

She could see him better now, though not as well as she would like. He was staring at her, and her stomach started doing flip-flops. Riding backward in the limo turned the sensation from pleasant to nauseating. At this rate, she'd wind up getting sick on the side of the road.

“I'm sorry, I can't ride backward like this.”

She crossed to the other side of the limo, sitting as close to the window opposite him as she could. She put the cloak on the seat between them as a reminder to stop touching him. She wanted to reassure herself that he was okay, that he was really here with her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“It's just a little motion sickness.”

“I can hardly feel that we are moving, yet we seem to be passing the lamps at quite a speed.”

He was reacting well to the things he'd already figured out. Elsa hoped he would react as well to what she was about to tell him next. It was one thing to make the leap from horse-drawn carriages to cars. It was quite another to hear someone talk about time travel.

The nausea returned full-force as she recalled the last time she'd told someone about her ability. She shoved the memory ruthlessly into the back of her mind. This wouldn't end that way. Dante would understand.

She let herself put her hand on his arm, drawing his attention from the view out the window. His skin was so warm.

“I understand this is confusing. Please trust me. I think eventually you'll be very happy here. It just might take some getting used to.”

“I imagine so,” he said.

“I have something that will help.”

Elsa glanced around the seat, searching for the book she'd brought along on the development of automobiles. Since they'd be starting off in a car and he had seen carriages, she thought it was a good way to ease him into believing that she'd taken him forward in time.

The limo's interior was too dark to see properly, so she reached up and switched on the overhead light. Electricity might have been a better place to start.

“What on earth is this?” Dante reached up and cautiously pressed his fingers against the glass.

Elsa was stunned for a moment by the wonder unfolding on his face. The corners of his lips lifted slightly in an almost-smile. He gently traced his long fingers over the surface of the light fixture.

When he turned back to her, his eyes were a roiling blue-green. Elsa's heart seemed to stop. She couldn't catch her breath.

His smile faded, and Dante sat back against his seat, turning his face away from her. “I apologize. I did not mean to startle you. Perhaps you should extinguish the light.”

“I wasn't startled.”

“There is no need to preserve my feelings in this matter.” The smile he gave her then was rueful. “I assure you, I am quite accustomed to this reaction.”

“What reaction?”

“I know that my appearance is…troublesome.”

Only in that it made Elsa want to do things that she really shouldn't be thinking about. She couldn't suppress a short laugh.

Dante angled his face a bit toward her, watching her from the corner of his eye. If only he knew how ridiculous that was.

“There is nothing about you that troubles me.” Except perhaps that he felt the need to wear his mask at all.

His gaze softened, but he didn't say anything in response. She knew better than to push on this issue so soon. In his time, the mask had been necessary. Elsa would do everything she could to make him feel comfortable enough to show his face to the world. She would start by taking his mind off the matter.

“And the answer to your question is, that is an incandescent light bulb.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, remembering the driver. The barrier between the front and back of the limo might be closed, but Elsa was still paranoid. She leaned closer to Dante. “I think those were pretty close to development in 1881 as well, but we'll cover those later.”

She saw the book she'd been looking for tucked between the seat and the side of the limo next to him, and reached across to grab it. At that moment, the limo hit a pothole, throwing her off-balance. She might have fallen off the seat, but Dante reached out and grabbed her, pulling her against him.

Elsa's hands landed on his broad shoulders, her breasts pressed against his chest. She thought that time might have stopped entirely, Dante was holding so still. He wasn't even breathing.

He was warm, or maybe she was cold. She couldn't tell. All Elsa knew was that she wanted to be closer, wanted more of them to touch. Parts of her body that she had neglected for years responded to him.

Finally, he asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, laughing a little as she pried herself off of him. “Sorry about that. I was just trying to reach this.”

She stretched past him and picked up the book. Her heart was still thundering from the contact. It was making her lightheaded.

“Please, look through this.” She handed him the book, then leaned back in her seat.

“Carriage schematics?” he asked, leafing through the first pages.

“Just keep going.”

Dante skimmed through page after page. “This is quite extraordinary,” he said. The more he read, the more creases appeared in his brow. He also began to frown. Elsa hadn't expected that.

“What is it?”

“This is possible,” he said.

“Absolutely.”

“That is not what I mean.”

He closed the book and set it on top of the cloak, his gaze roving over the limo's interior. His hands followed, touching the glass of the windows, the stitching of the seats, the hard plastics and treated wood. He even lifted Elsa's cloak, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

“Talk to me. What's bothering you?”

“The things in this book, though extremely advanced, are within the realm of possibility. There is a logical progression, an evolution of technology, as it were, that cannot be denied. But it is impossible that I should be witnessing them.”

“Not everything that is possible can be explained.” Her heart picked up again and, for a change, it wasn't because of his closeness.