A Time of Shadows (Out of Time #8) (3 page)

The casual way she asked made Elizabeth’s head spin. But then again, Charlotte was their child and could have grown up hearing stories of time travel or possibly even time traveling herself. Although that seemed a little irresponsible of future them. There was no situation Elizabeth could imagine where Simon sanctioned a family-time travel vacation. Unless she counted this one.

“No,” Simon said. “We haven’t seen Teddy in a long time.”

“Oh,” Charlotte said, worrying her lower lip. “He’d know what to do.”

Simon cast Elizabeth a troubled look. They’d definitely have to learn more about Teddy’s visits later, but for now they needed someone in the present who knew something about the watches. The list of people who fit that bill was painfully small. In fact, it had only one name on it—Travers.

“Road trip?” she said.

Simon nodded. “Seems we have little choice.”

He looked down at Charlotte. “And I think the sooner we leave the better.”

She nodded and he held out his hand. It seemed to dwarf Charlotte’s as she slipped hers into his. He squeezed it tight before turning back to Elizabeth and Jack.
 

“Right.”

“Where are we going?” Charlotte asked.

“San Francisco,” Simon said. “I have a few questions for the Council.”

D
ESPITE
HIMSELF
, J
ACK
FELT
an unfamiliar twinge of anxiety as the cab pulled up in front of the Aion Society building, the front for the Council’s headquarters. The last time they’d been here, the life he’d tried to build here had been wiped from history and the old life he’d had in 1942 London felt like someone else’s.
 

He hadn’t told either Cross or Elizabeth, but since he’d come back, he’d felt that way about life here. He was literally a man out of time. He didn’t belong here or there anymore. He wasn’t sure where he belonged and it was a new, unpleasant feeling. Jack had always been at home wherever he was. For most of his life he’d traveled, first looking for work in the Great Depression, then as a stunt man in the movies and later as a spy in the war. He’d never had roots, had never felt the need for them. But something had changed in the last few months. He felt an itch, an itch he couldn’t scratch.

“Are you getting out or should I carry you?” Cross said.

Jack broke from his reverie and smirked up at Cross’ impatient face staring down at him from the sidewalk. Next to him, Charlotte giggled.

Charlotte. That was a mind-bender. He’d half expected Cross to force the girl to get a DNA test before he accepted her. Judging from the way he tightly held onto her hand, that hadn’t been required. Cross’ heart apparently had room for two.
 

Cross opened the cab door and Jack held out his arms, as if to say,
lift me
. Cross rolled his eyes and turned away. Jack heard both Elizabeth and Charlotte chatting as he trailed along behind them up the broad steps of the Council headquarters. She was a tough kid and handling all of this at ten years old a heck of a lot better than most adults he knew would. She wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows, but between the three of them they’d managed to coax out a few smiles.

The building was just as he’d remembered it. On the surface it looked like any other museum with artifacts from around the world in glass display cases. What the average visitor didn’t know was that nearly all of the pieces had been brought back by actual time travelers. The four of them made a pretense of looking at an exhibit from Pompeii—now there was an assignment Jack wouldn’t want—before making their way toward the back of the great room.

Cross said something to a broad shouldered security guard who slowly looked each of them over. His eyes lingered on Charlotte, but any question he might have had was cut off as Simon pulled the girl closer and said with entitled impatience only an Englishman like Cross could summon, “We don’t have all day. Travers. Now.”

The guard bristled but pressed the earbud tucked away in his cauliflower ear. It had taken Jack a few months to get used to seeing people talk into thin air and realizing they were on their telephones. The guard muttered something into his lapel that Jack couldn’t make out. After a moment, the guard nodded his head once and opened the door behind him.

Two more security guards rode down with them in the elevator. When the doors opened, they were escorted forward into a foyer with several locked doors. Jack expected one of them to step forward and do their thing with keypad locks, but both men stepped back into the elevator.

“Aren’t you going to let us in?” Jack asked.

Neither replied as the elevator doors closed leaving Jack and the Crosses alone in the entry hall. He looked around the room a little nervously.
 

“Well, this is weird,” Elizabeth said, catching Jack’s eye.

“Yes,” Cross said flatly, but Jack could see the tension in him. He managed a reassuring smile for Charlotte though, whose face was pensive and tight with anxiety.

They waited for a moment longer before Jack decided maybe they were supposed to knock or something and eenie-meenie-miney-moed a door.

He’d just raised his fist to knock on the door when he heard a sound coming from a door to his left. He stepped back and they watched the center gears embedded in the door spin and recede until there was a two foot round hole in the center of the door. After a beat, the rest of the door slid back into the walls.

Peter Travers stood on the other side looking five years older than he had two months ago. Either he’d been away on a long mission or something was very wrong. With their luck, it was the latter.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Travers said, his voice squeakier than usual. Cross, Elizabeth and Jack exchanged wary glances.

Travers gave each of them a nod and what Jack thought was an attempt at a reassuring smile, and then he paused at Charlotte, as if he’d been too distracted, which he probably was, and had just realized she was there.
 

He cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy. “And who’s this?”

Cross ignored the question. “What’s going on?”
 

Travers looked ready to repeat his question but heaved a sigh instead. “Oh, nothing. Just the end of the world.”

He turned to usher them down the hallway behind him. “Again.”

Charlotte’s eyes shot to Jack in alarm. He shook his head in that “Nah, everything’s gonna be fine” fashion that adults lied to kids with all the time. She didn’t look convinced but, like the trooper she was, fell into step with her parents as they followed Travers.

None of them spoke until they’d reached the relative security of Travers’ office. As they passed through the outer office, a pretty young woman startled at her desk, nearly dislodging her glasses. She stood and pushed the black horn-rimmed spectacles back onto her face.
 

“Mr. Travers, there’s someone to see you—” she said.

But Travers waved a hand and started to open the door to his office. “Not now, Grace. Make sure we’re not disturbed.”

“That’s what I’m—”

“Turn off the damned tracker,” a voice from inside the office said.

Jack tensed and took a step closer to Charlotte before he realized who it was.

Victor Renaud stood in the middle of the room, fists on his hips and fire in his eyes.

“Victor, let me explain. There are circumstances—” Travers said in a tired, but placating voice.

“Do not play your word games with me,” Renaud said as he strode forward. “Turn off the tracker.”

Travers ran a hand through his hair and made his way toward his large desk. “If you would just sit down a moment.”

Renaud’s gaze left the hole it was burning in Travers’ back long enough to notice the Crosses. “What are you doing here?”

Cross snorted. “Lovely to see you, too.”

Renaud made a sour face at Cross, but his expression softened just a touch when he saw Elizabeth. Not fondness but respect, perhaps. Considering what the three of them had been through, Jack wasn’t surprised. But he was surprised by Renaud’s expression when he caught sight of Charlotte. It was probably Jack’s imagination, but the man blanched, like he was almost afraid of her. Quickly, as if he’d been caught out in something, Renaud looked away and set his anger back on Travers’ slender shoulders.

“I have found him. Do you understand? I know where he is,” he said, leaning forward on Travers’ desk. “But I can’t get to him because you have that damned tracker on.”

Travers sighed. “I do.”

“Turn it off.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Travers’ face grew even more worried. “Both.”

“Wait,” Jack said as he sat down in one of the chairs opposite Travers’ desk. “This tracker thing, what does it do again?”

Renaud puffed out an impatient burst of French disgust and turned away from them both.

“It serves several purposes,” Travers explained. “It lets us track the whereabouts of each watch and traveler, but it also serves as a failsafe. It keeps the bearer from traveling to a time through which they’ve already lived. It was off, for instance, Mr. Wells, when you traveled back to 1933, which was why you could go back.”

Jack lifted his chin in understanding.

The break in the Travers vs. Renaud bout gave the Crosses a chance to sit down, Elizabeth and Charlotte at least. Cross remained on his feet and stood behind their chairs.

“And it was on in order to keep older Katherine Vale from traveling back to 1888 and murdering Charles Graham herself.”

That brought another burst of French bluster from Renaud. “And it will keep that animal alive, if you continue this foolishness.”

“Please, Victor—”

Renaud strode forward and slammed his fist down on the desk. “Dammit, how can I do my job if you will not let me?”

Charlotte flinched at the outburst and Jack could see Cross pull his hands into fists.

“There are more important things than you…”

“Tell that to Mary Kelly or the others he’s about to kill. There is always something more important when it is not your life at risk.”

“I understand—”

“No,” Victor said coldly. “You do not.”

He stood up straight and grunted. “I was a fool to trust you. I will not make that mistake again.”

“Please,” Travers said. “If you’d just hear me out.”

But Renaud was not listening. He turned his back on Travers and faced Cross. He seemed about to say something, but he simply nodded his head once in acknowledgement and stormed from the room.

The slamming of the door was punctuated by another sigh from Travers.

“Sorry about that.”

“If he’s found…” Cross said and then looked down uneasily at Charlotte. “Graham. Why on earth wouldn’t you let him do what needs to be done?”

“It’s complicated,” Travers said in what was clearly a serious understatement. He glanced at Charlotte. “Perhaps it would be better if…I’m afraid I don’t know your name, dear?”

“Charlotte—”

“She stays,” Cross interrupted.

Travers searched his desk for a phone and found it buried under a pile of papers. “My secretary, Miss Mills,” he said as he dug it out, “will keep her—”

“She. Stays.”

Travers arched an eyebrow and sat back in his chair.

“And she is?”

“None of your bloody business.”

“Simon,” Elizabeth said, both scolding and placating. “It’s all right. We need his help, after all.”

Simon grunted.
 

“This is our daughter, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said. “Our future daughter.”

Travers’ eyebrows shot up.

“She’s here for an unexpected visit,” Simon added.

“That Charlotte?” Travers said in surprise and then smiled kindly. “Nice to meet you.”

Charlotte smiled back but Cross did not. “What do you mean
that
Charlotte?”

“Oh,” Travers flustered. “Well, nothing really. Just…So, she just popped in?”

Cross’ eyes narrowed. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Travers cleared his throat and his face grew serious. “No, I didn’t.”

Simon glared at the little man, who, to his credit, didn’t flinch.

“Knowledge of the future is a dangerous thing,” Travers said and then his gaze slid to Charlotte. “Which I’m sure your father impressed upon you, didn’t he?”

Charlotte, suddenly the center of attention, looked at everyone uneasily, but she nodded. Her expression was the same one Jack had seen Cross wear when he was Being Very Serious, which was most of the time. “He did.”

She glanced up at Simon, who managed to look proud, worried and chagrined all at the same time.

They told Travers what little they knew about Charlotte’s arrival and he sat back in his chair with a worried look on his face.

“We tried the watch and when it didn’t work, we came here,” Simon concluded.

“The tracker strikes again,” Jack said, “It’s keeping us from going to the future to find out what happened to Charlotte’s parents.”

Travers nodded.
 

“Good news in a way, I guess?” Jack said.

Cross frowned. “And how do you reckon that?”
 

“It means we’re all alive then. If we weren’t, the watch would let us go.”

Elizabeth perked up. “Oh, good point!” she said. “That’s a plus. Being alive.”

“I would say so,” Travers agreed.

Cross walked to the edge of Travers’ desk. “Be that as it may, it does not help us find out what happened—why they attacked, who they were, and what we can do to take Charlotte home.”

He stood up straighter and forced his shoulders back in what Jack liked to call King’s Cross—imperial to the core. It was the body language that said,
Surely, even with your inferior intellect, you can see the wisdom of my position and cede to it. Immediately.

“For that,” Cross continued, “we need you to turn off the tracking device.”

Travers smiled. He’d been unmoved by Renaud’s bravado and he was equally unmoved by Cross’ arrogance. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Not that it would help at this point. I’ve deactivated all of the watches. Charlotte must have slipped in just before.”