When the Walls Fell (4 page)

To make matters worse, the clock was officially ticking. They had only two days until the eclipse that would allow the watch to take them back in time. She literally didn’t have a minute to waste.

She pulled her Beetle up to the curb in front of Simon’s place. She ignored her poor car’s death rattle as it shook and shimmied before giving one last cough and shutting down. Anxious, but afraid of what might come, she looked out of the window and at Simon’s house. The gentle glow of a single light from the study window filtered out into the quiet night making the house look like a dragon sleeping with one eye open. She tucked the folder under her arm. Time for a little slaying.

Clutching the file tightly, she walked up the dark path to Simon’s house. She stumbled on an uneven cobblestone and swore under her breath. Even his house wasn’t going to make this easy.

The door to his study stood ajar, the light jutting out in a sharp angle against the dark, hardwood floors. Gently, she pushed it open further. “Simon?”

Sitting forward in an overstuffed reading chair, his elbows resting on his knees, Simon stared down intently at his clasped hands. “Where have you been?”

For a split second, she felt her buttons being pushed, but she flipped the override switch and forged ahead. “You will not believe who I just talked to.”

“Aumond?” he said, not bothering to hide his contempt.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sorry about not discussing that with you sooner, but it doesn’t matter.”

He raised his head to meet her eyes. “It matters to me.”

“I know, but…” she said and paced across the room. Now,
this
was a room built with a good pace in mind. “Aumond is small potatoes; we’re talking the entire potato famine here.”

“If you think I’m going to let what happened earlier go so easily…”

Elizabeth stopped pacing and turned to face him. Of course not. He wouldn’t be Simon if he did. Soothing hurt feelings would have to wait though. She was going to bust if she didn’t tell him what happened. “The Council came to see me.”

Simon’s head snapped back as if he’d been struck. He stared at her for a long moment before speaking in a voice that sounded like stone grinding against stone. “They what?”

“They came to—”

Simon surged out of his chair and was across the room and gripping her arms before she could finish her sentence. “You’re to have nothing to do with them,” he said fiercely. “Do you understand me?”

Elizabeth blinked in shock, before gathering her wits and wriggling out of his grasp. “I understand that you might seriously need some Valium,” she said and massaged her arms. “What is the matter with you?”

Simon seemed to snap back to himself and then faltered. “I’m…”

“Slightly out of control?” She knew another parry was the wrong move. She needed to try to calm him and not provoke him, but the words spilled out.

They seemed to help him regain his footing. He fixed her with a piercing glare that held her more strongly than his hands ever could. “Don’t ever speak to them again, Elizabeth. You have to promise me you won’t.”

“You don’t even know what they asked me.”

He turned quickly away and strode across the room, raking a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter.”

Had he lost the plot completely? Wasn’t he even the least bit curious? “It does matter,” she said with forced patience, before taking a breath. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It matters a lot.”

He stopped and stared at the far wall. “They’ll just have to make do without your help.”

Something didn’t add up. She didn’t expect him to take it in stride, but something wasn’t right. “How did you know they wanted my help?” She felt the pang of a belatedly realized betrayal. Elizabeth tightened her grip on the folder and her surging anger. “They came to see you first, didn’t they?”

Slowly, he turned around. “Yes, two days ago.”

His frank admission, so matter of fact, stunned her. “And you were going to share this when?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

Oh, that was rich. “Wasn’t irrelevant at lunch.”

His eyes darted away from hers. “That was different.”

The air was suddenly thick and heavy and impossible to breathe. The word hypocrite danced on the end of her tongue, but she forced it back down. They’d deal with that later. He’d survive that, but the Council’s news was something else entirely. “What if everything they’ve said is true? Did you even consider that? Simon, your life is in danger."

“Lies.”

“Did you even listen to what he had to say?”

“We’ve no reason to trust them,” he said as though that answered her question.

Elizabeth huffed in disbelief. “We? I must have missed the ‘we’ part. Did that come before or after you decided what was best for me?”

“My grandfather died on one of their… missions,” he said, practically spitting out the word. “Don’t think that a day passes in my life when I don’t remember how close I came to losing you. All because of that bloody Council. I’ll be damned if I’ll let it happen again.”

"And I don’t want to lose you!” Elizabeth took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Would you at least listen to what I have to say?”

Simon rolled his shoulders and stalked to his desk. He planted himself in the chair and waved his hand giving her the floor. Only Simon could be completely accommodating and utterly condescending at the same time.

Not exactly a receptive audience, but at least he wasn’t shouting anymore. Elizabeth gave him the Reader’s Digest version of everything that Travers had told her.

When she was finished, Simon leaned back in his chair. “And why don’t they send one of their own men? Why you?”

“They want someone outside of the Council. There’s no telling how things have changed, how they might have been corrupted.”

“No telling,” Simon echoed. “Might have. A story spun of what-ifs and maybes.”

He leaned forward, intense. “They’re manipulating you.”

That thought had crossed Elizabeth’s mind. She really had no reason to trust the Council and several reasons not to. “Maybe they are.”

Simon got out of his chair. “Finally, some sense.”

Elizabeth smiled sadly. “But I’m not willing to risk the consequences if they’re right.”

“You’re not doing this,” Simon said.

The words were absolute, but she heard the doubt and fear inside them. “You can’t control everything, Simon.”

His hand sliced through the air. “It’s not—Damn it.” he said and let out a deep breath. “Elizabeth, if you love me—”

“I’m doing this
because
I love you, Simon. I had hoped that even if you didn’t trust the Council, you’d trust me.”

With that, she turned and walked out. If he had an answer he gave it to an empty room.

Chapter Four

H
is moment’s hesitation at her departing declaration had cost him dearly. By the time he’d gathered himself enough to follow her she was already gone. Simon spent the next few hours searching for her without any luck. None of her friends had heard from her. He’d gone to her apartment, the office, even the damn library, and she was nowhere to be found. Clearly didn’t want to be found.

He slammed the front door behind him as he returned home. “Damn!”

Simon’s fantasies of finding her and talking some sense into her were just that, fantasies. He could have tied her to the bedposts and she would have found a way to go.

It was folly, pure unadulterated idiocy, and exactly the sort of thing she was wont to do. He’d known it from the moment she’d mentioned the Council. And like a fool, he’d challenged her. Even if she wasn’t intent on going before, she surely was now.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed ominously, each resounding clang marking the time he’d wasted. A litany of invectives streamed behind him like a comet’s tail as he walked into his study.

Why was she so reckless? So trusting? What could she be thinking? She’d run off and get herself killed. For what? Because the Council said they needed her help? It was idiocy. It was naïve. It was… He drew up short. It was love.

She was doing this insane thing out of love. When it came to that, there was no stopping her. He’d been a fool. Again. He should have stood with her. He’d been so afraid of losing her, he’d completely ignored the fact that she felt the same way. The last time he let his fear get the better of him he pushed her away and nearly lost her. And now, he’d done it again.

The weight of that revelation pushed him down into a chair. He leaned forward and clasped his hands.

He should have trusted her, but his overriding need to protect her had trumped his common sense. Not that she wanted his protection or needed it, but he felt compelled to give it nonetheless. Despite what she thought, it wasn’t because he saw her as incapable and it certainly had nothing to do with her being a woman. It did, however, have everything to do with her being the woman he loved.

There was a life’s breath in being with her that he couldn’t live without. But if he kept pushing her away, if he kept standing in front of her instead of beside her, he would lose her.

She was willing to risk everything for him and he’d dismissed her feelings completely. He really was a selfish bastard and damn her she was going to save him whether he deserved it or not.

He stood and strode over to his desk. Perhaps it was time to start deserving it, he thought. The fragmented feeling of helplessness was abruptly replaced by the firm conviction of singleness of purpose. He wasn’t going to waste the next two days in a fruitless search. If she didn’t want to be found, and it was clear she didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to find her. But that wouldn’t stop him. He’d be damned if he’d let her go alone. This time, though, he’d be prepared.

He turned on his blasted computer and pulled out his phonebook.

He remembered scant details from that blithering idiot Travers’ tale to Elizabeth, but it was enough. It had to be enough. He remembered the date and location—April 9, 1906, San Francisco, just a little over one week before the catastrophic earthquake. That gave him pause. The San Francisco earthquake was nothing to be trifled with. If he remembered his history correctly, the quake was over 8.0 on the Richter scale and the fires that followed were even more devastating. He’d have to convince her to leave the city before then. A time and a place—not much to go on—but all he needed. Whatever Elizabeth was getting herself into, she wouldn’t be in it alone and that was all that mattered.

He sat down in his desk chair and got to work.

Over the years he’d cultivated an extensive network of antiquity collectors and spent the next few hours waking, bullying and bribing them. The full complement of supplies had cost him an unconscionable sum, but he would have spent ten times that if needed. Money had never meant much to him, until he’d been forced to live without it. Traveling back in time to New York and living as a pauper had been an object lesson he wasn’t soon to forget.

Antique national bank notes, the only reasonable currency of the time, with a face value of nearly ten thousand dollars were being sent by overnight courier. Explicit instructions had been given to his tailor. A suit appropriate for a wealthy man at the turn of the century with all accompanying accouterments would be ready by noon. No excess was too excessive. No expense too expensive. No possibility considered impossible. He’d even contacted the family solicitor and asked him to send a few important papers.

This time, he would arrive as a man of means. And those means had only one end—to do anything and everything to bring Elizabeth back safely.

By morning, Simon had completed all his preparations, save one. He was at the bank when it opened and accompanied the clerk to his safety deposit box. The teller placed the slender metal container on the table and left him to his privacy. The cyclone of manic planning dwindled until only an ill wind remained. When he’d put the watch away four months ago, he’d hoped it would be the last time he’d ever see it. Only an unbreakable allegiance to his grandfather had kept him from destroying it.