Parallel (Travelers Series Book 1) (21 page)

“So what is Etta’s role in all this?” My father, with good reason, seems genuinely concerned.

Cooper looks over at me and takes in a deep breath. “Well, sir, Etta is the leader of the Council and—”

“Wait, hold up there,” my father interrupts. “Now, I’m very familiar with the Council and Etta is certainly not—”

Now it’s my turn to interrupt. “What’s the Council?”

Before Cooper can answer, my father explains. “The Council oversees a faction of travelers. We do not have a Council here in this reality, but they are prevalent where Cooper comes from.”

“There’s a little bit more to it than that, but yes, the travelers from my reality have banded together to overthrow Oliver and his regime,” Cooper says.

“And I’m their leader?” I ask.

“Yes,” Cooper says. “Without you here in this reality, you never find out about Oliver and help lead the resistance against him in our dimension.”

“Wicked.” It’s kinda scary, but cool to find out your the head of a council of travelers. “Why me?”

Cooper hesitates. “Because you feel responsible.”

I guess he doesn’t really have to explain further. I suppose I would feel guilty if I was the cause of Oliver’s power trip.

My dad shakes his head. “I’ll admit I messed up when it came to my research and how best to protect it. But my biggest failure is with regard to you Etta,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to carry the burden for my mistakes.”

“Well, after everything that went on this last week, I’m just glad I’m back, no matter how or why I got here. I still don’t understand everything that’s happened or is supposed to happen, but I have a family now,” I reassure them. I look over at Maggie and I can see tears in her eyes. I’m pretty sure she’s happy to have me back as well.

“Where do you suppose Oliver went? Surely he didn’t just abandon his plan to take advantage of Etta.” April finally contributes something to the conversation.

I shudder at the thought of Oliver using me for his military experiments. But it must happen or Cooper and the Council wouldn’t have risked everything to bring me back. And to think he was once my foster dad. Did he have similar goals in that reality? It’s doubtful or he never would have thrown me back to the system. Joke’s on him.

“What about Jaime?” I refuse to believe that she has anything to do with Thornberry’s twisted plan. Wherever they were, I only hope she’s safe.

“I don’t know honey. But I have a feeling we haven’t heard the last of Oliver,” my father says.

Aunt Maggie has kept silent ever since we arrived back at the house. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s confused, still kicking herself for letting me go to Jaime’s in the first place, or if she’s just giving everyone the silent treatment for what could have happened to me.

“I think it’s time we all went to bed,” she finally says. “Cooper…April, you two are welcome to use the guest bedrooms.”

“Thanks,” Cooper says.

“Yes, thank you Maggie. I don’t think I want to drive back home at this hour of the night,” April says.

“Wonderful. Then it’s settled. We can talk more in the morning. I’ll whip up some blueberry pancakes,” Aunt Maggie offers.

Once everyone said their goodnights and retired for the night, I meet Cooper outside on the deck. “Guess I need a bit more practice using my powers,” I joke.

Cooper smiles. “I think you did great under the circumstances. Astral projection? You even impressed me.”

I can feel myself blush. “I guess that means you won’t be coming around here anymore. I mean, now that April is here to guide me and all.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. I still need your help,” he says. “There’s something I didn’t want to mention in front of everyone and I think you should know.”

This doesn’t sound like something I want to hear, so I brace myself for the worst. “I’m listening.”

“When you came looking for me, you didn’t just astral project to where I was. You projected yourself to when I was.”

“What? You mean I—”

“You didn’t just travel on an astral level without using a portal. What I’m trying to say is, you astraled in time.”

Holy crap!
Dad said I had the ability to time travel, but I didn’t think that meant being able to in astral form. “Just who exactly are you Coop? You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in your well being.”

“You knew all along that Oliver was involved from the start didn’t you?”

“Yes. That’s why I stuck around to help you. I didn’t want to tip you off about his intentions, as it could jeopardize your father’s safety.”

“You could have said something.” I probably wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near the Thornberry residence had I known.

“I could have. But the less you knew, the better. I couldn’t risk you doing something foolish if you knew that Oliver was the one responsible for you father’s disappearance. He’s a dangerous man Etta.”

“Don’t I know it,” I say, rubbing my wrists were I had been bound. Suddenly, I remember the Cooper look-alike. He had been talking with Oliver at the senator’s party. “Hey, what about the fundraiser when I saw you looking all old. Did he know who I was?”

Cooper just grins. “No. The man you saw at Stewart’s fundraiser had no idea who you were or how important you are to me.” He takes a step closer to me. “What if I were to tell you that I only agreed to help you in order to satisfy a self-serving purpose? That is wasn’t only to ensure you take over as Council leader.”

“I’d tell you to get lost.” I don’t want to hear that Cooper only helped me because he stands to gain something. I’m already falling for him. The last thing I want to know is that the feeling isn’t mutual. I’m just a dumb school girl with a crush.

“And I’d deserve that no doubt,” he says. “But what if…what if, I were to tell you that by Victor sending you away, it set off another chain of events.”

“What else changed? You only told me that it messed up the timeline and you had to make it right so I can help lead the rebellion,” I insist.

“Guilty.”

“And when I came back and you sensed I was in danger again, you intervened,” I go on.

“Correct.”

Nothing was making any sense at this point. “So that man at the fundraiser. That was you.”

“Yes and no. He is the version of me in this reality.”

I knew it!
“You’re from the past aren’t you?”

“Yes, but that’s a conversation for another day.” He moves in even closer.

I ignore that last comment for the moment. One of these days he’s going to tell me his whole story. “Now why would you do all that just for me? Of what importance can I possibly have other than being leader of the Council?”

Cooper pulls me towards him and whispers in my ear. “Because Etta, darlin’. You’re my wife.”

I look down, where his hand rests on my shoulder, and for the first time, I notice the shiny silver band displayed on his left hand.

THE END

Look for Book 2 in the Travelers Series, PARADOX

Fall/Winter 2011

There are so many fabulous folks I wish to thank. First, to my wonderful editor and friend, Stacey Turner, who was gentle and patient with me during the editing process. My best friend Charisse Berree, who not only took the time to read my rough draft, but as a social worker, provided her expertise on the foster care system in Virginia. Anything that is wrong or misrepresented is totally my doing, not hers. Special thanks to Shari Emerson, fellow writer and my biggest cheerleader. Without her insights and support, I don’t know what I’d do. Of course, special thanks go out to my dad and former physics teacher, who let me bounce ideas off him regarding worm holes and physics assignments. To my husband, chef extraordinaire, who inspired all of Aunt Maggie’s culinary creations and who gave me a full lesson on oysters and shellfish. And lastly, all my other wonderful beta readers who were not only supportive, but generous with their comments and input.

Claudia Lefeve was born and raised in the Gulf Coast border town of Brownsville, Texas; a curious place where folks see curanderas in lieu of shrinks, tortillas are served at every meal, and even gringos speak Spanish. She currently resides in Northern Virginia with her husband and two pugs.

For more information about the author, please visit
www.claudialefeve.com
.

Please continue reading for the following excerpt from
Glimpse
, by Stacey Wallace Benefiel, one of my favorite indie authors.

By Stacey Wallace Benefiel

I
stared at the back of Avery Adams head, imagining what it would feel like to press my face into his wavy brown hair. I longed to experience the exhilaration of running my fingertips over his broad shoulders and down his chest, of standing that close to him, feeling the heat coming off of his golden skin.

He was two people ahead of me in the line to take communion. I tried to focus on the smell of his shampoo. Unfortunately, the two people between us were my mom, and his dad. With them blocking the way, all I could smell was tea rose perfume and extra strength drain cleaner. Not a pleasant combination.

The line moved forward. The woman behind me, Mrs. Hobby, stepped on the back of my heel, scraping it with the pointy toe of her white patent leather flat.

“Ouch!” I said, way too loudly. The congregants of my white bread Lutheran church were not prone to exclamation of any kind. I flushed my usual shade of flame as everyone looked at me, including Avery. Mortified, I wheeled around, facing Mrs. Hobby, accidentally knocking off her massive white Easter hat. I caught it mid-air and jammed it back on her head. “Sorry! I was spacing out,” I whispered, like the whole church couldn’t hear what I was saying.

“Zellie!” Mom hissed at me from the front of the church.

“Uh, here we go, our turn at bat.” I ran up to the altar and knelt down, bowing my head, touching my chin to my chest.

Someone in the back of the church snorted a laugh. It sounded like Claire. A giggle shimmied up my throat. Claire was my best friend and a frequent witness to my extreme dorkiness. She could also make me get the giggles at the most inappropriate moments.

I raised my head and took the communion wafer that my dad, Pastor Paul, offered, clamping my mouth shut before the giggles could escape and embarrass me even further. I glanced down the altar, wishing that the elder would hurry up with my tiny plastic cup of wine. I always seemed to get the communion wafer stuck to the roof of my mouth and then had to engage in some major tonguing in order to get it loose.

Avery leaned forward, taking his wafer from my dad. He swallowed it in one smooth gulp and then gave me a confused grin.

Oh, God, he must think I’m looking at him! I immediately stopped trying to pry the wafer loose with my tongue and put my chin to my chest again. What could I have looked like? I tried to float above myself, picture my face. What I conjured was not a flattering image. I had one eye closed, nostrils flaring, my tongue flicking back and forth. What the hell was my problem? I looked like a cat coughing up a fur ball. Ugh.

When everyone was served communion, I got up, avoiding my dad’s bemused look and went back to the second pew where me, my mom and my sister Melody always sit.

Melody shook her head and flicked me on the back of my arm as I stepped past her and sat down in the pew. “Way to make a butt of yourself, Zel,” she whispered into my ear.

“Whatever, hose beast.” I flicked her on the knee and scooted away from her, closer to Mom.

She rolled her eyes at me. “Like I even know what that means.”

Dad stepped up to the pulpit and shuffled his notes around in his hands. He was old school, writing his sermons in longhand on yellow legal pad paper. Assistant Pastor Morris wrote his on a computer and then downloaded it onto his BlackBerry, like someone from this century.

The sermon was my favorite part of the church service, not because my dad was such a charismatic speaker or anything, but because I could get in some good Avery daydreaming time. And, since he didn’t know I was alive, daydream time was the only quality time I got to spend with him.

I leaned forward and put my forehead against the pew in front of me, rubbing my temples as though I had a headache. Turning my head the smallest increment to the side, I looked past my mom across the aisle to where Avery sat.

He was so beautiful it kinda hurt my heart to look at him. Ah well, I was in church after all, let the self flagellation commence!

I began at his feet. Polished black dress shoes, black socks slouching at the ankles, a glimpse of beautiful calf, his khaki pants hiked up just a little.

Moving up, I lingered on his hand resting atop his knee, his long, thin fingers spread out. I took a deep breath and envisioned reaching out my hand and intertwining my fingers with his. Running my thumb across the top of his hand from wrist to knuckle, brushing my fingertips up his forearm.

In my imagination I was sitting next to him, pressing the side of my thigh against his, then elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder. My lips grazed the bend of his neck, the line of his jaw, the corner of his mouth, across his lips. Then we were forehead to forehead, my hands in his hair, I inhaled him in—

“Ow!” I sat up straight, smarting from the sharp elbow to the ribs Melody had given me.

“It’s time to sing!” She yanked me up and thrust an open hymnal into my hands.

On pastor’s daughter autopilot, I sang, “Christ our Lord is risen today, haaaaaa-le-loo-oo-yah!”

•  •  •

“Hazel Grace Wells, you are going to burn a hole in the back of Avery’s head as hard as you were staring at him.” Mom turned from the driver’s seat of our navy blue minivan, which was only six months younger than me. “Don’t think I couldn’t feel you looking, and in church of all places! How would you feel if your father had noticed you concentrating more on Avery than on God? He would not have appreciated it, young—”

“Mom, you’re about to drive into Mrs. Woodbury’s mailbox.”