An Original Sin (30 page)

Trying to ignore the disappointed glint in his eyes, she walked toward the bedroom door. “If I stay here, I’m going to eat you alive.”

His expression brightened.

“Forget it, tough guy. You’ve lost some blood, and I won’t take a chance of doing more damage to your arm.”

“ ’Tis not my arm that needs attention. Come to me, lass.”

And she did. Turning off the light, she returned to the bed, now spotlighted in the moon’s cool silver glow. But there was nothing cool about the man awaiting her. Flinging
off her clothes, she slid into the bed beside him and wrapped herself in his heat, his passion.

She rode him fiercely, glorying in the feel of hard male beneath her, lifting her to the stars like the fabled winged horse, Pegasus. Clasping him tightly between her thighs, she urged him on with a sense that she must squeeze every last drop of emotion, sensation, from him, enough to last forever, knowing that forever could begin soon, too soon. And when he bucked beneath her, she cried out for more of him. He answered by driving so deeply into her, she felt the shudder all the way to her heart. His final thrust was power and light, filling her as she’d never been filled before, would never be again. When she heard his hoarse cry and felt the warm spill of his seed, she shattered her silent fears with a primal scream that echoed down the corridors of time as completion shook her.

How long she lay wrapped in his arms while her pounding heart slowed and her breathing grew normal, she couldn’t guess. They needed no speech, because words couldn’t describe what they’d shared. She waited until his even breathing assured her he slept before slipping from the bed and padding silently into the living room. If she stayed in bed, she wouldn’t sleep. All the decisions she’d avoided making would howl at her like rabid carnitaks, demanding her attention, refusing to go away.

She might as well work on Blade’s sculpture for a while. It should be done by next week. Would everything be done by next week? She couldn’t handle that thought now.

She might even have time to work on the other sculpture, the one that wouldn’t be done by next week, might never be done.

Fortune turned the living room light on and studied the almost completed head. She could always lose herself
in her work, and she needed that badly tonight. She didn’t want to think, only feel and remember.

A week. How could a week pass so quickly? Agitated, Fortune paced the floor while darkness gathered outside the living room window. The silky white pantaloons bothered her as she moved, reminded her of things she’d tried to push aside, reminded her of a home that no longer seemed like home.

The distant laughter of children trick-or-treating mocked her somber mood. “Curse you, Leith Campbell. Where are you when I need you?”
I’ll always need you.

As though in answer to her entreaty, she heard Leith’s key in the door. She turned to greet him.

But the man who walked into the living room wasn’t the Leith she knew. Hard eyed, with his plaid flung across one broad shoulder, he was a warrior from a time she’d never known, would never know.

Leith Campbell was dressed to go home.

She swallowed hard against the creeping sense of dread that made her shiver even in the still-warm Texas night.

Then he smiled and reached her in one stride. Gathering her into his arms, he kissed her hard, not bothering to hide his desire. “Dinna look at me like that, lass.” Gently grasping her wrist, he moved her hand down the length of his body until she felt his readiness for her. “Clothes dinna change the man.” He held her away from him for a moment while he studied what she wore. “Or the woman.” He frowned. “Ye need to wear strong colors, lass, to go wi’ yer passionate nature.” He placed a finger over her lips before she could retort. “I’ve held ye in my arms, so dinna deny yer passion.”

“I’m afraid this is what I’d wear if I were home.” She smiled up at him, but her smile was bittersweet. “Leith, I have to go somewhere before the party.”

“ ’Tis no problem. I will go wi’ ye.”

Fortune shook her head. “I’d…I’d rather go alone.” She longed to ease the suddenly worried gleam in his eyes.

“What has happened, Fortune, and where are ye going?”

She took a deep breath and tried to dispel her cold fear. “Ganymede disappeared right after you left, and I just got a call that someone found him.”

“Fine. We will bring him home.”

She clasped and unclasped her hands, then purposely held them still. She had to make him understand.

“He’s at the rest-over.”

She watched a shuttered expression once again change him into a stranger, a stranger she’d known only three weeks but who’d managed to fill her universe.

He nodded. “We will go together to get him.” His tone was implacable, uncompromising.

No!
He couldn’t go. If this was it, the time for her to return, she didn’t want to face the decision she must make. If he stayed here, there was no decision. When had she become such a coward?
When you fell in love.
“I don’t want you to go with me.”

His lips lifted in a wry grin. “I dinna think ye have a choice, lass.” He moved away from her, already distancing himself, it seemed. “Let us speak plainly. We could have someone bring him home, but ’twould only be postponing what must be. I would rather stand and fight than run away like a craven.”

She’d never felt so proud of him as she did at that moment. She forced aside the weak arguments that fought to tumble from her in a frantic attempt to hold back the inevitable. If he could face with such courage whatever waited for them at the rest-over, could she do less?

Besides, if they only went into the lobby, grabbed Ganymede, then left, probably nothing would happen. Maybe she could convince Leith to wait for her outside.
He hated the thought of returning to her time. Hadn’t he sworn he’d never set foot in the rest-over again?
But without him, what will happen to humanity
?

She tried to calm herself, tried to think logically. If she failed, cosmic forces would simply find someone else to do their dirty work, wouldn’t they?
Are you willing to sacrifice humanity if you’re wrong
?

What happened to her didn’t matter so long as Leith was happy. Whether he stayed in this time or returned to his own time, he’d survive and make a place for himself. Maybe he’d find a woman who’d love him.
Never as much as I will. Never as long as I will.

She tried to force aside thoughts of humanity’s fate.

The phone’s shrill ring vibrated along nerve endings already stretched taut with tension.

“Ye need not answer. I’ll speak wi’ the person, then call for a taxi.”

She watched numbly as he picked up the phone and left the room. She understood. Each of them needed a few minutes alone—to think, to come to terms with what this night might bring.

She wandered over to the bust she’d done of Blade. He would fi nd it when he went through the house and know it was for him, a thank-you for his kindness to two people who’d traveled farther than he could possibly imagine. Two people who for three short weeks had put aside the differences of six hundred years to live and lo—No, that was wrong. She loved Leith, but she didn’t know what Leith felt, wouldn’t try to force him to say something he didn’t feel.

Slowly she walked to the second sculpture and pulled off the cover. The unfinished work mocked her. Their family—Leith, Ganymede, and herself. Perhaps it was fitting that it remain unfinished, just as their life together
remained unfinished. A time that in a few years would fade to a sepia memory.
Liar.

She fought the temptation to take it with her. Even if she went back to her time tonight, it was unlikely any object could go with her. Last time she’d managed to keep only her cross. Her cross. She knew a sharp stab of regret. She’d have to return without it. The pawnshop was closed for the night.

But
things
didn’t matter in the scheme of life. She realized that now. Only people mattered. She looked at the unfinished sculpture. It belonged here, where they’d been together. It was part of this time, this life.

She took a deep breath and rushed outside to wait for Leith. If she stayed inside for one more minute she’d break down. And tonight she had to be strong—for Leith, for herself.

As she stood in the comforting darkness, she could see the taxi’s lights coming down the street. She turned for one last look at the house.

Leith opened the door and stepped out.

This would be one of her most precious memories—her fierce warrior poised in front of the shabby little house where she’d found happiness. She quickly turned from the sight and held her breath until the tears that clogged her throat grew bearable.

As the taxi pulled to a stop in front of her, she felt Leith behind her—his quiet breathing, the scent of cool night and warm male, the rough caress of his hair as he bent to kiss the side of her neck.

“Mayhap this isna what we think, Fortune. But if ’tis, we will face it together.” He wrapped her in his quiet strength, shielding her with his promise.

No, love, we can’t face this together. I have to do this alone. For you.

As he held the taxi door open, she climbed in and slid to the far window. He got in behind her and moved to her side. Then he pulled her into his arms.

“ ’Twas Stephanie on the phone.”

“Stephanie?” Stephanie, who could turn from Michael and walk into the arms of the man she really loved, but wouldn’t because he couldn’t give her a child. Stephanie, who would sacrifice all her tomorrows because of a name. Campbell. MacDonald. In three short weeks, Fortune had learned how little a name meant in the face of love. She envied Stephanie’s freedom of choice.

“Aye. Stephanie Kredski, Michael’s lass. She wanted ye to know she’d thought about what ye said. I told her ye couldna speak to her right now, but that ye would call her later.”

Kredski. Fortune remembered her feeling that Stephanie looked familiar. Of course she did. How often had Fortune seen the face of Jan Kredski on history disks? If she wasn’t so close to tears, she’d laugh. By marrying Michael, Stephanie had succeeded in immortalizing her name. But immortality was a double-edged sword. Because of Jan Kredski, there might soon be no humans left to remember the Kredski name.

Fortune felt too numb even to question the coincidence of Stephanie crossing her path. Nothing surprised her anymore.

The ride to the rest-over seemed only a second, and she’d longed to have it last forever. She couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together before the taxi stopped, and Leith helped her out. She touched his cheek, feeling the roughness of beard stubble and the hardness of his clenched jaw. “You stay here while I go in and get our little monster.”

He didn’t even honor her with a reply, but simply walked
into the rest-over and left her to tag behind. She allowed herself a small smile of remembrance. This was how it had all started, with him charging through the rest-over while she frantically hurried to keep up with his long strides. Some things never changed.

They reached the desk where a woman cast them an inquiring look. “Great costumes.” She dragged her admiring glance from Leith long enough to ask Fortune. “What’re you supposed to be?”

This once, Fortune refused to lie. “I’m from the year 2300.”

“If you say so.” The woman laughed and turned her attention back to Leith. “What can I do to help you?” Her tone suggested her help could encompass a wide spectrum of services.

Fortune glanced away from the woman’s eagerness. Leith would have no trouble finding a woman to replace her once she’d left.
Don’t cry. Not here. Not now.

“We’ve come to claim a black cat ye’re holding.”

The woman grinned. “Hey, you’re really Scottish. Great accent.” Her smile faded as she realized what he’d said. “Oh, the cat belongs to you. Well, we have a small problem. He got loose on us. Someone was cleaning room three thirty-three, and he ran in there. Hid under the bureau and wouldn’t come out. Since we knew you were coming, we decided to let you deal with the little horror.” She held up her right hand to show them a set of livid scratches. “Good luck.”

Fortune watched Leith’s face pale and knew her own looked the same. But she’d expected this, and she didn’t need to point out to Leith that she’d been right all along. She’d return from the same room where she’d entered. There was a certain cosmic balance to the thought.

For just a moment she considered grabbing Leith’s hand
and dragging him from the rest-over, leaving Ganymede to his fate. But she abandoned the idea with a deep sigh. It didn’t matter. Cosmic forces wouldn’t be cheated.

The woman pulled some paperwork from under the desk and pushed it at Leith. “Please fill this out. Just some papers we need to show who picked the cat up.”

Leith leaned over the counter and studied the questions.

Fortune saw her chance and took it. While his attention was engaged by the form, she turned and raced for the open elevator. By the time he realized she was gone, she’d be in the room. He wouldn’t follow her. He’d made it clear he’d never go back to her time, would never allow himself to be used, kept a virtual prisoner.

She stepped into the elevator, then punched in the third floor. As the door slid closed, she took one last look at the man she’d always love. Her final glimpse was of his strong back bent over the form, his night-dark hair fanned across his broad shoulders. The elevator rose silently toward the third floor while Fortune allowed tears to slide unchecked down her face.

When the elevator doors slid open, she wiped at the tears streaming down her face, then hurried toward the room. Opening the door, she slipped inside, then shut it quietly behind her. She didn’t even bother looking for Ganymede. He wouldn’t be here. He’d simply served as an instrument, and his job was finished.

She moved as though in a trance to the side of the bed she’d occupied when she’d opened her eyes to find herself in another time. Slowly she sat down on the edge of the bed facing the window. If she didn’t sit down she knew she’d fall down.

She closed her eyes.
Do it, damn you, just do it.