Timeless (45 page)

Quinn grasped her upper arms and drew her up to face him. “I have to leave for another job, Regan.” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m not leaving to end things between us.”

But it will.
With an effort, she focused on his face. “We both have jobs to do. Responsibilities to other people. I understand. I have to go before it’s too dangerous to do so.”  She pulled away from him. Her legs worked, though she couldn’t feel them.

A sound above drew her attention and she looked up. A young man she’d never seen before stumbled down the stairs. For a moment, she struggled to suppress her raw emotions and swallow back the tears that threatened.

Quinn met the kid at the bottom of the stairs. “I told you the site isn’t open to the public.” Thunder blended with and nearly drowned out his voice.

Regan tensed. This kid didn’t need to be here. But with a storm coming on— 

“I’m not going back out there, man. The lightning is unbelievable,” the boy replied. His zippered jacket appeared splotched dark with rain. His brown hair clung to his head.

“That’s why the site isn’t open to the public. I told you this place is dangerous,” Quinn said, his tone short.

Rain blew in at the top of the stairs in a deluge, and water began running down the side of the steps into the chamber in rivulets.

“What’s your name?” Regan asked.

“Will Ridner.”

“Well, Will. You are trespassing on a protected site and could be arrested.”

“That’s for bloody certain,” Marissa’s voice came from the stairs. She slung her hands spraying water droplets from her fingertips. Her blond hair lay plastered to her head and her clothing, saturated by water, seemed spray-painted to her tall shapely figure. She descended on the boy, her features ugly with anger. “What the hell did you think the chain link fence and all the warning signs were for, you bloody idiot?”

 Will shrugged. “ I’m not hurting anything.”

“That wasn’t the point. The point is that you could be hurt and then sue the site for your injuries.” She raked her hair back from her face, drew the clumped locks over her shoulder, and wrung it out.

“Ease off, Marissa.” Quinn said. “He can’t go anywhere until the storm passes, and he’s not likely to be hurt as long as he stays on the scaffold. I’ll personally march him back up the path and off the site as soon as this passes.”

“I have a mind to make an example of him and have him charged.” She turned on the boy again.“ You purposely ignored my repeated calls for you to stop.”

“I was looking for a place to get away from the lightning.”

A rumble shook the ground, and for a moment it seemed the storm had invaded the chamber.

“Man, this is crazy,” Will breathed.

“The bloody place is dangerous every time a storm blows through,” Quinn said. “The stones have enough iron in them to turn them into lightning rods.  This place will never be safe enough to open to the public.”

“What is that smell?” Will asked, breaking into their conversation.

Quinn and Marissa turned to look at him with identical expressions of exasperation.

“ Stagnant water, a few dead fish and wet mud,” Regan answered. “We have to be certain of the stability of the walls before we put in a better air filtration system.”

He nodded.

Regan studied the small valiant patch of whiskers at the end of his chin. Seventeen, eighteen at the most. “Where are your parents?”

“They’re back at the camp site.”

“Where do they think you are?”

He ducked his head. “At the inn having a snack.”

There was nothing to be done but keep him safe until the storm passed. “Since you’re here, you might as well look around the chamber. I’ll walk around with you and keep you out of mischief.”

Will’s features lit up with a smile.

Had she ever been that young? Regan shook her head. “There isn’t that much to look at. Just the two larger stones in the center of the henge that travel through this chamber and are buried beneath the floor here.”

“Why’s it called a henge?”

“A henge is a circular or oval shaped set of stones. The surrounding ditch is what gives the circle its distinction as a henge.  Because this one has been under water for seven hundred years, the ditch is almost eroded away. But from overhead you can still see a faint outline. The earthquake that covered the stones toppled two of them, but they’ve been set back into position.”

“Earthquake?” Marissa interrupted.

Regan glanced in her direction. “There was an earthquake recorded in 1318 England. Because it would take a significant event to cover the stones with water and topple the two, we thought that might be when it happened.”

She turned aside and guided Will around the scaffold. A tense silence settled between Quinn and Marissa.  Marissa settled on the steps and Quinn on the edge of the scaffold, his back to her. He raised his head and looked down the scaffold toward them.  An ache settled in her throat. She couldn’t imagine being separated from him. But at least he’d be safe.

Ten minutes later Marissa jumped to her feet with an oath. “How many times are you going to keep walking around and around?”

“Hey, guys. Something’s happening here,” Will said, his tone laced with fear and excitement.

Rays of light appeared between the two huge pillars sunk in the floor. They shone on Will’s face, giving his skin a yellow tinge.

“Oh, no.” Not with Marissa here.  Regan twisted around. “Quinn.”

He had already leapt to his feet and was striding toward her. Marissa was close on his heels.

“What’s happening?” Will asked.

Regan’s hand closed around Quinn’s as he stood beside her. “We aren’t certain. The magnetic field is fluctuating because of the lightning.”

Marissa’s makeup was smeared from the rain, and her partially dried hair hung in blond wisps around her face. She flipped her cell phone open. “Damn it. We have no service here.”

“We don’t know what’s happening yet,” Quinn said, just as the light converged and the scene within the field became crystal clear. The room looked the same as the one they stood in, though a wooden shelf leaned against the far wall, each shelf clustered with pottery jars.

“What is that?” Will asked, his eyes round with amazement.

“It’s this room— in the past,” Marissa said, her voice high pitched with excitement.

“Like a time warp?” Will asked.

Marissa swung toward Regan and Quinn. “How long have you two known about this?”

Regan shook her head. Her fingers tightened around Quinn’s hand.

Marissa’s eyes narrowed as she focused on first, Regan, then Quinn. “I know you know something. I have to call Nicodemus.” She strutted down the scaffold toward the mouth of the chamber.

“Is this like a time machine, do you think?” Will asked.

“I don’t know, Will. Please step back away from the field.  It could be dangerous,” Regan said.

Her fingers wrapped around Quinn’s arm, and she buried her face against his sleeve. “What can we do?”

“There’s nothing to be done, lass. We can’t unring the bell.”

Will strode back and forth from side to side studying the energy field. He dropped to his knees and leaned over the scaffold. He picked up a small stone and got to his feet.

“Will, don’t do anything. You don’t want to mess with the balance of things there or here,” Regan said.

“It’s a rock. It would be in their reality—possibly in a different form but there. That’s the way it works on TV.”

“ This is reality, and you don’t know what will happen,” Regan said.

The quick sound of Marissa’s steps upon the scaffold drew their attention. She carried a shovel by the handle.  “It’s time we found out,” she said.

She swung the shovel as though to throw it at the field but suddenly swept it sideways, bowl first.

“No.” The word tore from Regan at the hollow ringing the tool made as it struck Will’s skull just above the bridge of his nose. The blow lifted the teenager off his feet.

He landed on his back and lay still upon the muddy scaffold.

CHAPTER 40

“Jesus Christ!” Quinn yelled.

Marissa raised the shovel again to deal the teenager another blow. Quinn leaped forward and blocked the downward swing with his forearm. Pain sang through his arm, and then it went numb. With the other hand, he gripped the wooden handle and jerked it from her grasp.  With a backhand swing, he heaved it across the room. The tool bounced off a protruding stone with a clamor and landed with a soggy thud in the mud.

He rounded on Marissa. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you crazy bitch?”

“Oh my God, Quinn. He’s got fluid coming out of his ears,” Regan said, her tone clogged with distress. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She grasped Will’s hand and touched his cheek.

Marissa’s expression was wild, intent. “We can’t allow any of this to get out. How long do you think that kid would have kept his shagging mouth shut?” She gripped his shirt. “Think about it, Quinn. We have Nicodemus right where we want him. We’ve witnessed the very power he needs to be healed. He’ll pay us whatever we want to keep silent.”

How could she focus on money when a boy’s life was draining from him? Quinn jerked her hands free and shoved her away. “You’ve just committed attempted murder. If the lad dies, t’will be murder.”

  Regan rose to her feet. “By calling Nicodemus you’ve signed our death warrants.” Tears ran down her cheeks in rivulets. “Why would he pay us when he can kill us and not pay a dime? Why do you think he keeps MacBean and Lamont around? They’re hired guns. You know they are.”

Marissa’s features settled into a stubborn frown. “He won’t. The security guards know we’re here. They saw me come in.”

“Don’t be a fool. He doesn’t have to do anything right away. Accidents happen all the time on a dig site,” Regan said.

She turned her attention back to Will. “Help me get him into the light, Quinn. It may heal him.”

Marissa grabbed Quinn’s arm, and he flinched. Feeling was coming back into the limb, and it ached dully all the way to his shoulder. Was it broken again?

“If he wakes up, he’ll talk,” she said.

Quinn shook free of her. How could he have allowed this woman to ever touch him? “If you’re
lucky,
he’ll wake up.” He knelt next to Will. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he wiggled his arm beneath the boy’s thin frame and lifted him.  It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Will’s head fell back loose, lifeless. Was his neck broken, too? His skin appeared grayish white. “Jesus. Is he still breathing?”

Regan touched Will’s thin chest and shook her head. “I don’t know. Oh God, we have to do something.”

Marissa leapt in front of them to block their way.

Rage spiked through Quinn taking his breath. “Get out of the way, Marissa.”

“No, let him die. If he wakes up—I’m not going to prison.”

Regan rushed at the woman, gripped her upper arms and tried to drag her out of the way.

With a screech, Marissa grasped her shoulders and attempted to push her off the scaffold. Regan held on and shoved into her with all her weight. Marissa staggered back, taking Regan with her.

“Regan,” Quinn cried out as the two stumbled toward the opening between the stones and the pulsing energy field.

Marissa sank her fingers into Regan’s hair and pulled back, and the muscles in Regan’s neck stood out like bands from the pressure.

She shoved the heel of her hand upward, hitting Marissa in the face. Blood splattered from the taller woman’s nose. She yelled in pain and lost her grip on Regan’s hair.

“You bitch,” Marissa screamed and head butted Regan.

Regan stumbled and fell to one knee, her fingers twisted in Marissa’s blouse. Marissa jerked free. Her heel slipped off the platform. Her arms wind-milled as she attempted to recover her balance. As though in slow motion, she fell backwards into the energy field. She landed hard on her hip and sat still for a moment.

Her movements sluggish, she pushed to her feet. Instead of turning back to the scaffold, she focused on the room beyond.

Regan’s face glowed pasty white in the light.  A deep red spot and a knot were already forming on her forehead. “She’s going to go through unless we call her back. The field will pull her through.”

Marissa deserved whatever she got. “We have other things to worry about.” He lowered Will to the edge of the platform. Regan crawled to his side, and touching the lad’s cheek, said his name. The teenager remained limp and unresponsive.

Quinn searched about for something to support the boy’s body. He spotted two pieces of lumber propped against the east wall where the scaffold was taken up to offer access to the ground beneath. He rushed to the boards. Sharp pain ran in rivulets through his arm as he grasped the closest board and returned. A half a meter wide, the plank would be wide enough if they could slide it forward once Will was positioned on it.

Regan said his name again, a note of anxiety spiking her voice. Marissa stepped through into the other room.  Behind her a strange afterimage appeared.

“What is that?” Regan asked.

Quinn shook his head. “I don’t know.” He laid the board beside Will, and Regan turned him gently on his side. Quinn shoved the board as close to him as possible. Regan rolled him onto it. She positioned his arms and legs on the plank.

Fresh tears slid down Regan’s cheeks. “He’s barely breathing. Oh God, I hope this works.”

“Aye. Me, too.”

Regan rushed to Quinn’s side to help him ease the board forward into the field. The sound of thunder overhead vibrated through the air and the field brightened. “What if the stones are struck by lightning while he’s in there?” she asked.

“I don’t know, lass. He’s dying. He can’t be any worse off than he already is.”

Regan fell to her knees and pushed with both hands, while Quinn shoved with his one good one. The board slid forward with a grinding sound, the grit from the mud helping to ease the way.  The plank started to tilt and Quinn pressed down on it with his weight to keep it parallel with the platform.  Inch by inch they eased the boy’s head and shoulders into the light.

The strange shape that shadowed Marissa as she moved about the room beyond had grown clearer, more solid. It was a woman, a mirror image of Marissa, all but her clothing.  Past and present were tied together by some strange multidimensional force. The two circled one another, giving each other a wide berth, their expressions equal parts curiosity and fear.