Belmary House Book Three (11 page)

“I should go,” Dex blurted. “To help you walk, or carry you. Look how weak you are.”

She patted his hand, but didn’t respond, only looked sadly down at her breakfast plate.

“That should get sorted once she’s back in her rightful time,” Liam said.

“You hope,” he said childishly. “But you don’t know. We can’t just drop her alone when she’s so sick.”

And he wanted to go. Every thought of his parents, his friends, his job, all out the door. All he wanted was to be with Emma.

“Certainly not,” Liam said, offended. “I plan to go with her, of course. It’s nothing for me to pop in and out,” he assured her when she made noises of dissent.

“Then we won’t see you anymore?” Piper asked, sounding hopeful as she gave him a sour look.

He looked sheepish. “I, er, have something I promised to do for Lord Ashford, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Ashford and Tilly came down to say their goodbyes. Ashford offered to go with them to lend support if necessary but was shot down so fast, his feelings looked hurt, and Dex wondered exactly what had happened the day before to make everyone so skittish around him. Everyone except Tilly. He’d have some words with her on the way back to London. They could wallow together with their broken hearts.

Piper offered to go as well, but in the end it was only Liam, Emma, and Dex who made their way to the forest. Emma rested her head on his shoulder during the short cart ride, and he helped her walk until Liam decreed they were in a suitable spot. Emma had already perked up, the fresh, cold breezes had put color in her cheeks and she looked more alert.

He could see the excitement in her eyes and tried not to feel betrayed. He’d known all along that she had to leave if given the chance. Her life was with her daughter, and he was destined to be a memory to her in just a few short minutes.

Liam dropped to the ground and began clearing away the forest debris and making his preparations for the spell. He offered to help, and was calmly dismissed, the older man telling him to spend his last moments with Emma. Hearing the words spoken aloud, last moments, almost doubled him over with pain.

Emma took his arm and led him away, and not for the first time he felt guilty for not being stronger for her. She leaned against a tree trunk and caught her breath, smiling weakly at him.

“I wish we could have had a better last night,” she said, trying to make what he thought was a lecherous face. He laughed despite himself and put his arms around her.

“It was the best last night,” he assured her, feeling her shake her head against his chest. “I won’t forget about you,” he said. As much as he wanted to hold her, he wanted to look at her face, and pushed away slightly to take in her features, committing them to memory.

“We’ll meet again one day, Dexter,” she said. She pressed her lips together and looked down. “I don’t want you to think of me crying,” she said. “So, I’m not going to cry.” Her voice broke on the last word and he held her close again.

“I can’t promise the same,” he said, his throat on fire from holding back the tears. “What’s your favorite children’s story?” he asked, making her look up at him quizzically. He shook her shoulders, wanting urgently to know more about her. They hadn’t had enough time.

“The Secret Garden,” she said. “Kind of everyone’s favorite, I guess.”

“I never read it. Mine was this stupid book called Revenge of the Bogie Squad. That’s what kind of kid I was.”

“I’ll look for it for Dahlia,” she said.

“I’ll read Secret Garden,” he promised.

“I like to jog along the river.”

“I’ll start,” he said. “Which bridge? In the morning or evening?”

She told him her favorite running route, and what times she would be going when she got back into her old daily routine. Her real life without him. He swore he’d run the same path every day at the same time, as if they were side by side.

Before he could ask her any more unimportant questions that meant the world to him, Liam cleared his throat. He turned to see a scatter of dried herbs in a cleared circle, a small knife resting in Liam’s open palm.

“It’s ready,” he said. “You’ll be home soon, Miss Saito.”

She made a sound that was half joyous laugh and half heart wrenching sob, and they moved to sit near Liam.

“Let me go, too,” he begged. “I’ll come back, just let me have a little more time.”

Emma’s face crumpled into the tears she hadn’t wanted to shed at his pathetic plea, shaking her head at him.

“Too dangerous,” Liam said. “Sorry, kid.”

Dex tuned out Liam’s instructions, watching Emma take the knife when she was instructed and nicking the inside of her arm to let a few drops of blood scatter over the herbs. Liam did the same, but he wasn’t offered the knife, probably because he wasn’t going with them. He was told to concentrate, but his mind was a black hole. He kept his eyes trained on Emma as Liam spoke some strange sounding words before starting to sing, afraid to blink. His eyes watered and he reached out for her, wanting to touch her once more, but she was gone.

Liam’s song cut off abruptly and Dex was alone. He didn’t feel anything for what felt an eternity, until Liam returned again, a few feet away, assuring him it went fine, and she was back. He’d gone all the way to the castle with her to make sure he’d got the dates right. Dex knew he should have expressed something, if only curiosity at how quickly he’d managed to get back, but he only sat staring at the blood sprinkled herbs.

“Take this.” Liam pressed a piece of paper into his hand. “You’re lucky it’s the future,” he said, making Dex want to stand up and punch him, feeling anything but lucky.

That burst of angry adrenaline unfortunately freed the avalanche of sadness that had been waiting at the precipice, and it engulfed him before he had a chance to defend himself. He couldn’t speak, but shook his head at Liam.

“If you want to badly enough, you’ll see her again,” he ruthlessly continued, each word scraping at Dex’s raw heart. “Ten years is nothing to true love, am I right?”

He must have given Liam a look that told him he wasn’t in the mood, because Liam patted his shoulder and told him he was heading back, and warned him not to stay too late and get caught out after dark.

He sat for a while longer, finally unfolding the scrap of paper Liam had handed him. It was nothing more than a scrawled date, a little more than ten years in the future. It had to be the time when Emma had returned.

If he could wait until that day, he could see her again, and she’d know him, perhaps be waiting for him. He tucked it into his wallet, getting up and moving toward the castle. There was no way he could stay there another day, he’d start for home tonight. He had to be in London, where he felt close to her, where they’d spent the most time together.

Ten years. He wasn’t sure he could survive, but he was going to give it a hell of a try.

Ashford paced in the back courtyard, waiting for Liam to return, hoping Tilly managed to stay occupied in the kitchen a while longer. He thought fondly of her offering to help make supper as thanks for letting them stay at the castle. Her newfound love of cooking charmed him, and he wished he could spend the rest of his life enjoying her culinary creations.

Even though Wodge was out of their lives, hopefully for good, he still had to figure out a way to help Kostya. He was frightened enough in exposing Matilda to his exasperating new powers, there was no way in hell he’d have her anywhere near the Povests.

It hurt his heart to listen to her talk about how easy it would be now that he was — what had she called him? An ex-man? He’d been hurt, thinking she didn’t view him as human anymore, but she’d assured him it was someone with amazing abilities, who fought against evil. If they had enough time here, she promised to show him films featuring that lot.

He longed to make the time, let her do everything she wanted to do here, and just stand back and watch her enjoy life, but he had to go back and try to rescue Kostya. No matter that he thought it was a lost cause, he had to try. And that meant leaving Matilda, as he was done dragging her along on his lost causes.

As furious as he was with Liam, he still needed him, and he only hoped the man had some sense of decency and would keep his original word. It was hard to tell with liars what they were going to do, and he hoped Liam’s deception only ran as far as his son was concerned.

He finally appeared, trudging his way alone up the hill from where the gas powered carts were kept. Ashford didn’t see Dexter and prayed he hadn’t foolishly decided to follow Miss Saito. Matilda would be bereft if he did. Another reason he couldn’t let her go back with him, as if he needed another reason. One should stay in one’s own time, not tear apart families.

“Where’s the lad?” he asked when Liam was in hearing range. “You didn’t let him go, did you?”

He’d been wanting to hit Liam since he first put a hex on the pub he and Matilda were hiding out in, causing him to worry needlessly about her disappearance. This would be the perfect excuse.

“He’s just lagging. The poor kid was devastated when we left. He begged to come with us to say goodbye one last time, but I knew if I let him, he’d refuse to return. He’s definitely got it bad for her, and ten years is a long time. Might as well be the distance between you and Miss Jacobs, eh?”

Yes, it might as well have been. He didn’t think the young man’s heart would hang on for ten years. He’d meet someone new and carry on with his life, probably never crossing paths with Miss Saito again. Perhaps he himself would follow along the same way, but he somehow didn’t think so.

“Yes, I wanted to speak to you about that,” Ashford said, taking Liam by the arm and leading him toward the stables, though there was no chance they could be overheard in the courtyard. “You plan to keep your word, correct? You’ll get me back and then close up the portal in this time so Matilda can’t follow me?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Liam asked, frowning at Ashford’s caustic laugh.

“You said a lot of things, didn’t you?”

“We both know the boy is better off gone,” he said stubbornly, a haunted look passing quickly across his eyes, which Ashford noticed were rimmed with dark shadows. “It took me many, many years to come to terms with that decision, you know.”

He tried to draw up some of his Matilda’s compassion for the man who so clearly suffered alone with the choices he’d made in his life, another of Solomon’s many victims. He found that the well was dry.

“If you had been honest, it might have gone more smoothly. Now we don’t know what happened to him, or where he is.”

“Let’s stay positive, shall we, Lord Ashford?”

“I swear I’m going to hit you before this is all over,” he promised, but most of the fight was out of him.

Now that it had been confirmed that everything would go according to the way he wanted, all he had to do was dread when it actually happened. And he didn’t really want it, he told himself as the rush of guilt almost overwhelmed him. It was what was necessary. To keep Matilda safe.

Liam smothered a grin at the half-hearted threat. “When would you like to do it?” he asked.

He groaned. “We still need to ask Piper for her support in fighting the Povests. I don’t feel confident, she’s so happy to live a normal life.” He sighed. Who wouldn’t be happy to live a normal life? He’d eagerly give all his land and riches for that chance with Matilda.

“You might not need her anymore,” he said. “If you learn to tap into your new abilities.”

“Hogwash. There’s power in numbers, even you know that. And my abilities? More hogwash. A fluke at best, both times.”

“Pretty strong flukes,” he said, hurrying away before Ashford could take the much desired swing at him.

Ashford watched the horses gambol in their paddock for a bit before returning to the house. As usual, he didn’t know how to broach the delicate subject of possibly going to war with an extremely powerful coven.

He needed Matilda, but didn’t want to continue to rely on her. It would only make it harder when they were separated. He’d somehow managed nearly thirty years without her, he’d have to try and remember how he’d done it and carry on. When he entered the kitchen and took off his coat, he caught her eye, returning her warm smile.

He’d tried to keep her at a distance since the ghastly ice beams had shot from his hands, but he couldn’t. She was stronger than him by far, and he couldn’t resist her no matter how hard he tried.

He sat at the plank table and she brought him some fresh bread with a jar of jam, and poured him a cup of tea, all with that adorably proud look she got when she did something domestic for him. He tried to think of all the injuries he’d ever had, and none could compare to the pain that seared through him when he wondered how many more times he’d get to see it.

Dexter burst in the door, looking as maudlin as he felt. Matilda ran to hug him, and tried to get him to sit and have some tea or a snack, but he refused, giving Ashford what he thought was an unwarranted filthy glare.

“We should leave for London at once, Til,” he said. “Your gran’s been in town waiting to fly back with you, and I’m sure your mum can use your help back home.”

This was an unexpected turn of events, and while Ashford should have been pleased at the excuse to extricate himself from her without having to outright lie to her, he felt a fresh stab at losing the extra time. He kept his mouth firmly shut and watched her gear up for a fight with her cousin.