The Time Keeper (The Guardians of Time Book 1) (15 page)

‘Thank you,’ he said warmly.  ‘This is far better than what rations allow.  We will all eat well for the next few days.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Seb said quietly and Emilia knew he was thinking what she was.  That last night they’d feasted on a huge roast, followed by dessert, while these people who fought for freedom, lived on food of such poor quality it barely deserved the name.

‘Now, about this information.  What do you have for me?’  Jean gestured for them to sit on the two rickety chairs to the side of the table.  He resumed his seat, steepling his fingers in front of his face, all seriousness again.

Seb pulled a large envelope from out of the inside pocket of his jacket and passed it to Jean.

‘The Allied forces are getting close and it’s a matter of days before they arrive to liberate Paris, but they need your help.’

Jean opened the packet and flicked quickly through the material Seb and Emilia had compiled.  He looked up incredulously.  ‘Is this what I think it is?’

Seb nodded.  ‘The map pinpoints the exact location of every German post.  But more important is the list on the next page.  It gives you numbers of troops at each post and what we believe is a pretty close approximation of weapons at those locations.  We’ve also included schematics for some of the buildings and possible weaknesses in the defence of those buildings.’  He paused.  ‘We hope it’s enough information for you to stage a coordinated movement against the German forces in tandem with the Allies.’

Emilia could have cheered.  Seb had pulled it off perfectly, sounding like he had the trust and backing of the Allied command.  She would have felt guilty, but they already knew from their research that the Paris resistance had collaborated with the Paris police to pull off a successful attack on the German forces residing in their city before it was liberated in late August.  At least feeding them this information now would better prepare them.

‘It is, young man.  It is.’  Jean sat back in awe, passing the sheets of paper over to Pierre who had been quietly listening.  ‘The value of such information is beyond measure and we will be sure to act upon it.’

He rose to his feet.  ‘It’s late and time to rest.  You are welcome to stay here with us, although we have no beds to offer.’  He indicated the bodies sleeping fitfully around the cavern.  ‘In fact I would prefer it if you stayed.  Tomorrow we will begin to prepare our strategy and your input would be much appreciated.’

‘Thank you.  A place to rest would be good,’ Seb murmured politely.

Jean turned to Emilia with a concerned frown.  ‘My apologies, Emilia.  I hope this is not the first time you have been forced to sleep on the ground.’

Emilia smiled warmly.  He was a lovely man and she hoped he had survived the war.  She would have to look it up when they returned home.  ‘I’m tougher than I look.’

Jean bid them goodnight then began to douse the lamps.  Seb found a spot on the floor, near the wall, and waved her over.  She lay down next to him on her left side just as the final lamp was doused and the cavern plunged into darkness.  The floor was hard and freezing.  She pulled her jacket tightly around herself and shuffled a bit closer to Seb.  It felt strange lying this close to him.  She’d never spent the night with a guy before and certainly her first time was going to be unique!

Emilia could hear him breathing steadily beside her and wondered if he was already asleep.  Squeezing her eyes closed, she clenched her jaw, trying to stop her teeth from chattering.

‘Are you okay, Angel?’ Seb whispered in her ear.

She turned her head back in his direction.  ‘I don’t suppose you could conjure up a blanket or two?’

‘That would be a bit hard to explain in the morning,’ he quietly apologised.  ‘Maybe I can help though.’

She heard him move and then his body curled around hers from behind.  His right arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her snugly back against his chest, his legs shifting behind hers.

‘Lift your head,’ he murmured, so softly she almost missed it.

She obeyed.  His left arm slid under her head, making her a pillow of his bicep.  And just like that she was warm.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘Go to sleep, Angel.’

She was so aware of him surrounding her, she wondered if that would be possible.  She told herself she should feel uncomfortable being this close to someone who wasn’t her boyfriend, but her body was completely relaxed and she realised it felt kind of natural to be in Seb’s arms.  Which in itself was a frightening thought, but she was so warm and sleepy, she didn’t have the energy or desire to think about it any further.  She drifted off to sleep without hesitation.

Chapter 19

The vague smell of coffee stirred Emilia from her sleep.  Her eyelids fluttered open slowly and she blearily surveyed the dimly lit cavern.  Most of the other occupants of the room were stretching out the kinks in their bodies, before helping themselves to coffee and a chunk of bread.  A few were already gathered around Jean, receiving instructions for the day. 

She thought about getting up but since she was so cosy she figured a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.  And then she remembered
why
she was so warm and snuggly.  Barely moving her head, she looked down.  Seb’s arm was clamped firmly around her middle, his long fingers spread across her ribcage.  Her breath caught at the intimacy of his embrace.

She wiggled experimentally to see if she could ease out of his hold without waking him.  Mumbling sleepily, his grip tightened instinctively, dragging her closer to his chest and burying his nose in her hair.  Even in his sleep he tried to protect her, she thought with a small smile.

He stirred and then she felt him stiffen around her as he woke and realised he was holding her locked against his body.  Releasing his breath in a whoosh, he hastily rolled to his back, his right arm sliding from around her.  Emilia turned so she was facing him and lifted her head so he could have his left arm back.

‘Morning,’ she said softly. 

His hair was endearingly rumpled, but otherwise he looked just as gorgeous as he always did.  She wondered how bad she looked and tried to discreetly rub the sleep out of her eyes.

‘Sorry about that,’ he murmured, concentrating on rubbing feeling back into his arm. 

She looked puzzled, before realising he was referring to holding her in his arms all night.  His cheeks were a dull red.  ‘Why?  You kept me toasty warm and I slept like a baby.’

‘I meant to let you go once you were warm enough, but I must have fallen asleep,’ he responded awkwardly.

He still hadn’t looked at her.  She’d thought she would be the one to get all weird about it, but surprisingly, waking in his arms didn’t bother her at all.  Obviously, the same couldn’t be said for Seb.  Well, clearly she was going to have to do something about it, because she had no intention of putting up with awkwardness between them.  She didn’t like it when he was quiet and humble; it didn’t suit him.  So she’d have to get back her combative, opinionated Seb.

Sitting up, she crossed her legs and finger combed her hair, giving it a hard shake.  She’d hardly moved during the night, so it wasn’t too tangled.  She glanced around to make sure no one was within hearing and prepared to do battle. 

‘How do you think we should go about finding Henri?  Should we ask around?’  

Seb dragged himself to a sitting position and propped his back against the rough wall.  ‘We don’t want to show our interest in him at this stage.  How would we explain how we know about him and what we want him for?’  He ran his hand through his hair, absently restoring it to order.  ‘Let’s just go with the flow today, okay.  He could be any one of the men here and I’m sure we’ll get introduced to everyone during the course of the day.’

‘I don’t agree.  I think we need to be more proactive.  If he’s not here, we need to get out of these tunnels and start tapping into the above ground resistance network.’

‘Which is all run from down here,’ Seb pointed out tiredly.  ‘There’s no point exposing ourselves unnecessarily.’

‘So you just want to hang around in the dark for a few days and hope we stumble across him?  Seems like a waste of time.’

Seb’s eyes flashed up to meet hers, annoyance simmering in their turquoise depths.  Emilia bit back a smile – he’d risen to the bait and was finally looking at her, his previous discomfort forgotten.  ‘I’m not planning on sitting around doing nothing,’ he drawled sarcastically.

‘I never said you were.’

‘You implied it,’ Seb growled.  ‘Look, I’m in charge and what I say goes.  We’re going to sit tight for the day and see what we find out.’

Pushing off from the wall, he rose to his feet.  He towered over her, his chin sticking out stubbornly, body practically bristling with indignation and she knew he was expecting further argument.

‘Okay.  Whatever you say, Boss,’ she said sweetly.

‘Good!’  He headed off in the direction of the coffee, but then ground to a sudden halt.  He swung around and glared at her, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.  ‘Did you just –‘

‘What?’ she asked innocently and fluttered her eyelashes for extra effect.

‘Never mind,’ he muttered and stalked off.

Emilia untangled her legs and rose to her feet, dusting off her hands in satisfaction.  It was a job well done as far as she was concerned.  No doubt he’d figured her out; he wasn’t stupid.  But at least they could get on with the day without having to tip toe around each other.

She wandered over and poured herself a coffee.  Taking an anticipatory sip, she nearly spat it back out again.  Damn, that was terrible stuff.  Watery and bitter, she was tempted to tip the mug out but she didn’t want to offend anyone, especially knowing how crucial it was to stretch every little thing as far as possible.  Nor did she want to appear so precious she couldn’t cope with the dietary deprivations war had imposed.  At least she only had to put up with it for a couple of days, she reminded herself.

She walked over to join Seb who was checking in with Jean and a couple of other men.  There was no sign of Pierre, who must have returned to his post at the base of the catacombs’ steps.  This far below ground, it was impossible to judge what time of the day it was, a thought she voiced to Jean and discovered it was around midday.  They tended to sleep through the majority of the morning as much of their work was done under the cover of night’s darkness.

After a brief conference, Emilia was assigned to one of the tables to help replicate coded messages for above ground resistance workers and Allied contacts, particularly those within the police force, while Seb stayed with Jean to strategise the attacks on the enemy encampments. 

She sat gingerly on a rickety stool and introduced herself to the two women already at the table, who looked to be in their mid to late twenties.  They smiled broadly and introduced themselves in accented, near-perfect English as Francoise and Veronique.

‘Thank you for the food,’ Veronique said appreciatively.  ‘It was so nice to have fresh bread.’

‘I’d forgotten how good a simple piece of bread tastes.’  Francoise sighed dreamily.  ‘I miss normal food.’

Emilia murmured her agreement, but felt like such a fraud.  It had been five years since war began.  Five years of rations, fear and death.  Sitting back in Ithaca it had been easy to disassociate, but now that she saw the reality she felt frustratingly helpless and wished they were allowed to intervene in more significant ways. 

She kind of understood the not re-writing history concept, but with Seb’s talents at their disposal, it would be so easy to jump back to Hitler’s student days and discreetly knock him off.  Admittedly, she wasn’t up for cold-blooded murder, but surely for the greater good of human kind it was justifiable… and wasn’t that the purpose of The Society? 

She looked at the women before her, gaunt from malnutrition but determined to fight for their country in whatever way they could.  Surely one life lost was a small price to pay to prevent the suffering these women, and so many more like them, had endured; surely one death to prevent the deaths of tens of millions of soldiers on both sides of the war was acceptable.  She was here in Paris as a representative of the Allies, preparing to extract one of their own from the clutches of the German enemy.  Except she knew it wasn’t as simple as that.  There were hundreds of thousands of Germans just as innocent as the people in this room, young boys sent off to fight and die in a war they hadn’t orchestrated and didn’t understand.  As far as Emilia was concerned, that was all the more reason to target the source of the problem.

Of course, was killing one nutcase the solution or would another rise in his place instead?  Would they have to keep on killing and killing to try and prevent something that was inevitable?  Emilia didn’t know. 

She looked across the cavern at Seb who was bent over a table covered entirely in maps, conferring earnestly with the men around him.  What she did know is it wasn’t fair to ask Seb to be the one to wield the gun.  Sure, he’d been trained to kill, had joined the army voluntarily, but what would it do to him to become an assassin?  At least what they did now centred around
saving
a man’s life rather than destroying it.

Francoise followed the direction of Emilia’s gaze and interrupted her musing.  ‘How long have you two been a couple?’

Emilia’s head jerked back towards the two women who were smiling knowingly at her.  ‘Oh no, it’s not like that,’ she responded quickly.  ‘Seb and I are just friends.’

‘That’s not what it looks like,’ Veronique observed.

‘Honestly, we work together.  That’s all!’

‘Ah
cherie
, working closely together is how lots of people fall in love.  You’re forced to spend so much time together, so you talk.  You learn about each other, what makes the other person tick, what they like, what they don’t like… what makes them happy,’ Veronique explained.  ‘And because you genuinely like them, you do those little things that make them happy and when two people are happy together… things take their natural course…’

‘And you fall in love!’ Francoise finished.

Emilia frowned.  ‘I have a boyfriend so that’s not going to happen.’

‘How is that relationship going?’ Veronique asked with a raised brow.

Emilia flushed.  ‘Uh… not so well.  He resents the time I spend, uh… working and he’s not wild about Seb.’

‘Men get awfully jealous when they are away fighting and their women are fancy free back home,’ Francoise opined wisely.

Oops, that’s right, keep on top of the story, Emilia, she reminded herself. Of course these women would assume her boyfriend was away at war.  ‘He would prefer me to stay at home rather than get involved in the war,’ she hurriedly explained.  ‘He doesn’t understand that no matter where I am, I
am
involved and I want to do my bit.’

Veronique’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she glanced over at Seb.  ‘And that young man is so very handsome and strong… and so protective of our young friend.  My guess is, the beginning of a great love story is taking place right before our eyes, Francoise.’

Francoise nodded sagely.  ‘Epic love, for sure.’

Emilia rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but laugh.  ‘You two are such romantics.’

‘What’s so bad about being a romantic?  It keeps us young and hopeful.’  Francoise smiled sadly.  ‘And we need that now more than ever.’

Yes, Emilia supposed they did.  So she let them have their dreams and didn’t protest any further. Besides, while she didn’t exactly think Seb was going to be her “epic” love, she couldn’t deny she was growing increasingly attracted to him, so at least part of their theory was right.  However, she had absolutely no intention of acting on that attraction.

‘What about you two?  Have you fallen in love down here in the cavern?’ she asked curiously.

They looked at each other and giggled before nodding.

‘If you don’t mind, will you tell me your stories?’  It would help the time pass more quickly while they worked on the coded messages.

Veronique waved at Francoise to go first.

‘When this war started I was newly married and so in love with my husband,’ Francoise began.  ‘We had such plans for the future, nothing grand, just the usual things I suppose – a house of our own somewhere in the country, maybe with a few vines to start a vineyard, and children… lots of children,’ she said wistfully.

Emilia braced herself.  She had a feeling this wasn’t the “falling in love” part of the story.

‘When the war began we didn’t think it would last long and I have to admit I thought it was a little bit glamorous.  Charles, my husband, looked so handsome in his uniform and I was so proud of him heading off to fight with his fellow men.  Oh, how young and arrogant they all were with their talk of defeating the Nazis and returning home heroes.

‘It was a strange time at the beginning, you know,’ she explained to Emilia.  ‘Every day, officers would come knocking at one neighbour’s door or another to tell them their husband, child or brother had died.  I used to stand in the window and watch them come down the street hoping and praying it wouldn’t be my door they knocked on.  And when it wasn’t I’d be so relieved I’d cry tears of joy and then the guilt would set in.  Guilt I was rejoicing when someone else, someone I knew, was grieving the loss of a man from their household.  After a couple of years of no one knocking on my door, I began to think I was going to be lucky and my beloved Charles would come home to me one day.

‘And then the knock came and my world caved in,’ Francoise said simply.

Emilia’s throat tightened and she couldn’t help but reach across the table and squeeze the other woman’s hand sympathetically.  ‘I’m so sorry, Francoise.  So very sorry.’

‘Ah, child, it is the way of war.  For six months I mourned and then the hate set in.  I wanted to jump on the back of a truck, ride straight to the front and shoot the whole German army myself!’  She smiled slightly.  ‘But of course they don’t let women fight, at least not in the army.  So I looked for another way.  I’d heard rumours of the resistance movement.  I started discreetly letting it be known I wanted to get involved and about a month later someone approached me to carry a message to a British spy on the outskirts of Paris.’