Chapter 19
Thealina
My muscles are jelly. Weak and wobbly. It baffles me how my feeble frame kept up with Rafe. Granted, he dragged me along, but keeping myself upright was all me!
The shock of what I did settles deep in my gut like lead. I knew there’s more to my ability than what I read in the books, but there’s so much more overwhelming things to learn.
Like being a “Jumper.”
Now isn’t the time to be home-schooled by Rafe, not when I follow his determined strides dodging soldiers and folk through the camp, his death grip on my hand telling me just how much serious shit we’re in.
Because of me.
And him, I suppose. I’m not taking the full blame. The man should have never touched my marked palm knowing I had Taka in the other.
Though now also isn’t the time to scold him on it.
‘Who we looking for?’
His head snaps left, then right.
“Me.”
‘You?’
“Younger me. 830’s me.” He redirects us left, almost breaking into a sprint as we come up in front of a large, sandstone building. “He’s in here somewhere, and he’s our ticket home. Full disclosure, he might be a bit of a knob.””
Right. I have questions…
“I know your mind is swirling. I feel it. But save any questions for when we make it out of here alive.”
‘And if we die?’
Can we die if we’re not in our original time?
“If we die in a looping echo, then it’ll churn us out, leaving us a pile of bloody mush in our original timeline.”
‘An echo?’
“Lina,” he warns.
‘Right, right, yep, got it, ask all the questions when we get home.’ I mock zipping my mouth shut, ignoring my slip of saying ‘we’ and ‘home’, though I don’t miss the beginnings of his grin that he drops quickly. Too quickly.
It’s much less chaotic in here than outside, most of the soldiers either fighting or re-grouping. Stern and measured steps stomp up behind us, I peer over my shoulder and gasp.
The Princess of Zolandra, in full fighting gear, stalks down the corridor with Captain Remi Elwood, so focused she doesn’t give us a second glance, though Captain Elwood narrows his brows, making Rafe duck his head.
“I have a troop of illusions ready on the south bank. If Zaren thinks he’ll keep me from this then he’s in for a rude awakening.”
“He knows battles and wars, Zuzu. Trust him. He just wants you safe.”
“And I want to get my hands dirty…” Their conversation drifts out of focus as they round a corner.
‘Wow! I’ve never seen her so fierce!’
Incredible!
“Oh yeah, she’s a formidable fighter in this life.”
Rafe darts right, left, his steps steady but desperate.
We go left again, and he uses his shoulder to barge through a door, stopping once to lock in his target before stalking over to him, eyes dark and deadly.
He drags me with him, never letting go of my hand, not even when he clutches the collar of young Rafe’s tunic and hauls him up against a wall.
‘Easy.’
“Easy!”
Both me and 830’s Rafe say in unison, though he can’t hear me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Don’t ask questions, you know that.”
“Who’s she?”
“Forget you ever saw her. I need your Taka.”
“I need my Taka.”
“You have four pieces, I need one.”
“I might need all four.”
“Trust me, you only need one. Give me a stone.”
Watching the two Rafe’s argue over the stones puts me at risk of neck strain.
“Why, what do you know?”
Rafe, my Rafe, jerks 830’s Rafe back against the wall.
Wait… my Rafe? Oh, no, no, no, we won’t be having that.
“I said, don’t fucking ask questions.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know that!”
Young Rafe riffles through his pocket, pulling out a small drawstring leather bag, placing one piece of Taka in my Rafe’s palm.
Shit, damn it!
I’m dragged across the room, no goodbyes, not even a good luck.
Just what in the embers happened here.
“Rafe,”
Rafe turns us, and I can’t tell you how surreal it is to see two of him, even if one of him is sixty years younger, there’s barely any differences except for a few faint lines in the corners of his eyes.
“You know I can’t tell you anything.”
“I know, I know, I know. But…” 830’s Rafe points to me, his eyes twinkling as he drags a lazy gaze from my head to my bare toes and back again. I’m aware my breasts are barely covered as I clutch Commander Kharson’s hooded robe around me. Something in my stomach flutters.
Explodes.
Butterflies.
Why am I feeling them, now, with both Rafe’s staring at me like I’m some precious gem, rare and priceless, though younger Rafe’s eyes hold a playful flirtyness to them that older Rafe seems to have lost.
“Is she my reward for all my good doings?”
“Don’t ever look at her like that again. Do better, Rafe.” Rafe says to Rafe, and my brain begins to ache. The start of a headache pulsing behind my eye.
Old Rafe scolding Young Rafe and his steamy gaze is comical. Because, between me and… me; I quite liked his eyes on me like that.
But I shouldn’t.