Mirrored Time (A Time Archivist Novel Book 1) (16 page)

“Did you have any thought of trying to leave that place?”

Rafe shook his head. “As I said, while part of me was aware what was happening wasn’t possible, I wasn’t able to react in any way other than how the memory played out.”

Alistair rested his chin on his hands, deep in thought. “I can’t say I know what is occurring. Still, your story makes me think Max might be able to shed some light on the situation.”

“Is that all you need of me, then?”

Alistair gave him a questioning glance.

“I need time.”

“Running away?”

Rafe’s gaze was hard, and he didn’t say anything.

Sighing, Alistair shook his head in a mute apology. “Take the time you need, and then come back.” With one last look at the city below, he turned to leave. “She’ll need you.”

CHA
PTER TWENTY-ONE

Y
AWNING, GWEN OPENED
HER EYES. Cappuccino sat next to her, his purr a loud rumble. When he saw she was awake, he gave a soft meow and rubbed his face against her cheek. Gwen scratched his ears, smiling when the purring grew louder.

“Good morning.” And it was. No nightmare had disturbed her sleep. She remembered Alistair checking on her every so often during the night. Rather than disturb her, it made her feel more secure.

With one last rub of Cappuccino’s fluffy head, Gwen sat up with a stretch. Her dirty clothes were eyed distastefully. But with little option, she took off the shirt borrowed from Alistair and put them back on.

She would kill for a shower. A peek at her watch showed it was still early, and she opened the door. With a yowl, Cappuccino jumped off the bed and raced out into the hall. Gwen watched him with a laugh.

On tiptoes, she crept down the hall towards Alistair’s living room. Alistair sat in one of the wingback chairs, hunched in an uncomfortable position but asleep. Not wanting to wake him, she tiptoed into the room. Spotting a blanket on the nearby couch, she laid it over his sleeping form.

Once out of his living quarters, she walked with firmer steps to the main office and grabbed her purse. She sighed in relief when her hands closed over her can of pepper spray. She had teased Louisa mercilessly over the gift. Now she was grateful for the woman’s overprotectiveness. After writing a quick note to Alistair telling him she was running home to get cleaned up, she braced herself and stepped into the hall.

It appeared empty, although the ambiance did nothing to dispel the nervousness racing through her blood. With quick steps, she rushed to the elevator and punched the call button. The pepper spray gripped in her hand, she danced from foot to foot as she waited for the elevator. She supposed it would have been smarter to wait for Alistair to wake up. Still, she couldn’t hide in the Archives forever.

Plus, I need that
shower.

The elevator, thankfully empty, arrived with a “bing,” and Gwen was whisked upstairs. With a whispered prayer of thanks, she headed for her small apartment.

She felt more human after a shower and clean clothes. Grabbing her charged phone, she was about to leave when a picture of Maggie caught her gaze. It was the only personal photograph in her apartment.

The picture had been taken the summer before she graduated college, in the few innocent months before Maggie’s doctors had told her that the cancer was back. They had gone to a traveling fair set up in the local park. Maggie had pushed Gwen down onto a bench, declaring that it was picture time as they hurriedly licked at their melting ice cream cones.

Gwen had leaned in for the picture, smiling at the camera held by a kind passerby. Right when the camera had snapped, Maggie had shoved her cone against Gwen’s face. The picture showed her comical look of surprise, an ice cream cone for a nose, while Maggie was bent over, howling with laughter. Maggie’s long mane of auburn hair and healthily tanned skin never failed to bring a pang to Gwen’s heart. But it was also too happy of a reminder to ever be hidden away.

Her compass gave her the ability to be in two places at once; she could see her aunt and then jump back to the Archives without being gone for any time at all. Funny, when she had left the Archives, she had completely forgotten the little compass.
I wonder if this time traveling business will ever become second-nature.
Smiling, she wrapped her hand around her compass, and in a blink of an eye, she stood on Maggie’s front porch.

Louisa’s smile was wide and welcoming. “Well, come in already. You’re letting all the warm air escape.” She led her into the cozy parlor.

“How’s Maggie?”

Louisa’s smile, if possible, grew even larger. “She’s back to her own self, bossy and stubborn as ever.” She motioned for Gwen to follow her into the kitchen. “She demanded to go out into the garden. And since she was feeling so well—” Louisa shrugged with a hopeless expression. “—I couldn’t very well say no, now could I?”

Gwen smiled and kissed Louisa on the cheek. “I don’t think I say it enough: Thank you for everything you do. We are lucky to have you.”

Louisa eyed her, a knowing smile growing on her face. “Well, what’s his name?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Pardon?”

“Taking the time to appreciate what’s always been there?” She grinned. “That type of self-introspection only occurs when you want to better yourself for someone new.”

Gwen rolled her eyes.
Although maybe she’s a little right.
“Honestly, I was trying to be nice.”

Louisa laughed, her voice teasing but kind. “Well stop, it doesn’t suit you.”

Gwen groaned.

The smaller woman shook her head, making shooing motions with her hands. “Enough of this. Go see your aunt. I know she will be thrilled to see you.” She paused. “And for the record, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

With one last smile, Gwen braced herself for the chilly air and stepped outside.

Even though she looked frail in her large jacket and wrapped in several thick blankets, Maggie’s face still held more color than the last she had seen her. Gwen smiled and walked over to kiss her aunt on both cheeks.

Maggie laughed. “It’s good to see you, love.” She pointed to the raggedy looking garden around her. “Spring isn’t quite here. Still, the frost is leaving. The blooms are coming in.”

Squinting, Gwen could see the tiny green buds dotting the brown plants. Whether spring was there or not, it was still cold outside. She hunched her shoulders up, burying her hands in her pockets. “Are you sure you should be out here?”

Maggie gave her a long-suffering look. “Have you and Louisa been conspiring? I assure you, I’m perfectly warm wrapped up like a mummy.”

Shaking her head, Gwen laughed as she moved to sit in a chair next to her aunt. “How are you feeling?”

Maggie made a rude noise. “Spare me. I get enough of that from the doctors. I want to hear about you. Now, tell me about this beautiful necklace you have.”

With a guilty start, Gwen dropped her fidgeting hands from her necklace. “Oh, it was a gift.” She unclasped it and handed it to her aunt. “It’s Saint—”

Her aunt gave her an impatient look. “I know exactly who they are. Now, tell me where it came from.”

Gwen laughed at her aunt’s impatience. Louisa was right; she was as bossy and stubborn as ever. And Gwen loved it. Looking again at the necklace, she frowned. “His name’s Rafe, I work with him.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I ruined it.” Gwen pushed at her hair, hunching her shoulders further against the cold. “I was unforgivably horrible to him, and I ruined whatever friendship we had.”

Her aunt placed a frail hand on her arm, and there was strength behind the grip. “Gwendolyn.”

Since Maggie rarely called her by her full name, she looked into her aunt’s eyes.

“People never achieve perfection, regardless of how hard they try. You have the fault of being too hard on yourself.” She patted her on the arm before withdrawing her hand and burying it back under her blanket. “Believe me, no one but you is expecting you to be perfect.”

Gwen shook her head. “You don’t know how cruel—”

Her aunt cut her off. “Have you apologized?”

“Yes, but—”

Her aunt gave her a look. “But nothing. True friendships can survive even the harshest words. If this boy cares for you, he will forgive you. You need to be patient and give him time.”

Gwen huffed. “Impatience is another one of my faults.”

Maggie laughed, her face lightening up. With her eyes bright with humor, she didn’t look sick at all. “Join the club, my love. As a wiser woman than me said, ‘Well behaved women seldom make history.’ And who doesn’t want to make history?”

Gwen smiled at her aunt, and her eyes welled up. She brushed at a tear.

“What is it?”

Shaking her head, Gwen looked at her feet, blinking until the threat of tears subsided. “Nothing. I love you.” Her voice wavered. “I just really want you to get better.”

Maggie smiled and motioned for a hug. She wrapped her arms around Gwen, stroking her hair. “I’ll try, my love. I’ll try.”

He appeared out of thin air, shoulders burdened with a heavy weight. Rafe looked around him, although he had little interest in his surroundings. Whether the memory he relived had been real or imagined, his body ached from the beating he had taken. The injuries weren’t too severe, a couple of tender ribs and a delightful array of colorful bruises.

Everything ached, most of all his pride. He still didn’t feel up to facing Gwen. He wasn’t ready to meet the pity that would be in her eyes. Rafe wasn’t under any delusions about his past, but he did not want people to feel sorry for him.
Like I’m a little lost boy needing to be coddled.
The fact that it was Gwen that had seen him so vulnerable made it worse.

The world he was in now was randomly selected. Ever since he had first discovered his gift, he had enjoyed going through a gateway at random and seeing where it took him. Although there was something to be said about the collection of mirrors with known destinations, nothing beat the mystery of a new gateway.

Each new world held the potential of an unsolved puzzle. Some ended up being worlds that he preserved—hung on the wall or, in some special occasions, hid in his coat or bag. Ultimately, most ended up discarded. For a time, however brief, every mirror he created was special because of its novelty.

Walking around, he enjoyed the cool spring air and strangers’ faces around him. Perhaps the best thing about a new world was that no one knew him. He could walk around the streets with complete certainty none of the faces around him would shift in recognition. After the unwanted revelation of the secrets of his past, the anonymity was refreshing.

Still, the longer he walked, the guiltier he felt. Alistair’s plea rang in his ears. Part of him wanted to stay hidden in this new world, to nurse his hurts alone. Another part argued with him that it wasn’t Gwen’s fault she had stumbled into his past.

He remembered the hurt in her voice when he ignored her apology. Even before Alistair told him what had happened to Gwen, he knew he would forgive her. Lashing out at people when feeling vulnerable was the first lesson of self-preservation. Rafe couldn’t blame her for a habit that he himself was prone to.

To find out that she hadn’t meant her words made it all the easier to forgive her. Of all his faults, he wasn’t a fool. If Alistair said he had a role to play in Gwen’s future with the Archives, then he would play it. The time streams were too important to endanger because his pride had taken a beating.

That didn’t make it any easier to go back.

Spotting a park bench, he sat down with a sigh. Leaning back to look at the sky, he watched the clouds float by. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before a sound interrupted his cloud watching.

A small, dark-haired girl sat on the bench next to him, rummaging around in a wrinkled paper bag. He sat up straighter, looking around the park for her parents. There was no one around.

She pulled a messy peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the bag, unwrapping it and eating it with small little bites, like a mouse. Her big eyes stared up at him, and Rafe noticed she had a smear of jelly across one of her cheeks, the same cheek that sported a vivid bruise.

He pointed to her cheek. “What happened?”

The little girl shrugged, her elfin face solemn. “Mom gets mad.”

Although her calm acceptance made his heart ache, Rafe kept his expression neutral. “Yeah, sometimes parents do.” His own father had been prone to using fists when his angry commands weren’t followed—and even when they were. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

She shrugged again. “You talk funny.” Her round eyes narrowed, and she stared at him as if trying to work out why his accent sounded different from hers. Rafe had the distinct feeling he had met the sad-eyed little girl before.

“It’s because I’m not from here.” He was about to say more, but a shrill yell rang out across the park. Rafe couldn’t make out what the voice said, although the little girl must have recognized it.

Her thin shoulders drooped, and she shoved the rest of her sandwich back in the crumpled bag. “I have to go.” And then in a whisper, “I wish I wasn’t from here too.” She slid off the bench, her scuffed shoes hitting the pavement with a squeak.

“Wait.”

Rafe wished he had something to give her, anything that would make her solemn eyes light up. From experience, he knew it was the shadows in her home darkening her expression, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He could only tell her his name, while wishing he could take her away from a mother that got mad.

“That’s a silly name. Mom calls me Gwendolyn Marie when I’m in trouble.” Her lips quirked up in a sad little smile. “But it’s Gwen.” With that, the little girl broke into a run and dashed across the park, her dark hair trailing after her.

Rafe stayed seated, watching the little girl until he could no longer see her. His lips quirked in an amused smirk. What he thought was a random mirror hadn’t been so random after all. No matter where he went, he couldn’t escape her. Their lives were entwined more than he had known, both future and past.