Not In Virginia Anymore #2
Beside me, Rowan immediately tenses and grips my thigh.
His claws prick my skin through my jeans.
A warning, I know, but I can’t seem to control my tongue now I’ve started.
“No. You know what? I don’t accept that.
The Office of Time is yours; you can go back any time you like.
In fact, I think they need you more than you realise. ”
I cut my eyes to Rowan.
“Right? Your Dogs went there. And I know that Janus is supposed to be the head of a department, but how can he have been doing his job when he’s busy using the power you gave him to…”
Unable to finish that sentence, I wash my anger down with the last of my margarita. Then I take a deep breath.
“I met a very talented witch recently, her name is Sarah Blackwood, and she’s been trapped in time for over four hundred years because you’re not doing your job. You’re not Death, but you are Time, and Time without responsibility is Death, by any other name.”
Senora Tiempo blinks, tears building in her dark brown eyes. But I’m on a roll.
“I told you about Ethel, but I didn’t tell you about Sarah. She’s out there—existing—but she’s so full of fire and compassion still.”
I don’t realise I’m so emotional until the first tear drips onto my cheek, but I’m not finished. We crafted this spell to get Time’s attention, and now that I have it, I won’t waste the opportunity.
“Sarah taught me that our time holds value because it’s finite.
It’s meant to be that way. We get this tiny pocket of time to exist in, and so we fight to make it the best it can be, and at the end is death.
We can’t change that, and sometimes that feels so horribly unfair… ” I sniff as more tears fall.
“But what’s more unfair, is that you can.
We’re all out there every day fighting to make our short lives the best they can be, but because you’re scared to help us do that, hundreds of people—their lives and those of their families and loved ones—have been altered forever.
And the one person who could help them is where? Singing Celine Dion in Mexico.
“It’s not the passage of time that’s cruel, Senora. It’s not the fact that it’s finite, or even that we have to fight for the little bit of it we do have. It’s that you’ve given up on us. And that’s a fate worse than death.”
My heart patters hard in my chest, and my hands are splayed out wide on the tablecloth.
Everyone around us is silent, even the piano player has ceased her soft jazz.
But I needed to say that on behalf of everyone who lost their voice because of Janus, someone who Time installed to a position of power and then declined to take responsibility for.
I had to take the opportunity to speak up, or I’d have regretted it for the rest of my life.
But I’m also a little embarrassed, and heat floods my cheeks.
Rowan withdraws his hand from my leg, and instantly I feel unmoored. Panic builds. Until big strong arms wrap around me and drag me into his lap, where I’m pressed against an overly warm chest.
Into my hair, he whispers, “I’m so fuckin’ proud of ye, Milo.”
From across the table, Senora Tiempo carefully dabs at her eyes with a napkin and adds, “Sí, Rowan. Quite remarkable.”
Her gaze locks onto mine. “You remind me of her—very much.”
From within my muscular nest of Scottish brawn, I straighten the best I can. “Remind you of who?”
Lady Time smiles, “Rosa Fidelis, your ancestor.”
She raises her hand in the air, and with a flick of her fingers, everyone resumes their business.
“The Fidelis Family Line, Milo, is one of the oldest in existence, and they always stood for faith, trust, and loyalty. You are their perfect ambassador.” Her dark eyes drift to Rowan. “Your wolf chose well. I hope you realise the value of what you hold.”
Not really understanding that comment, but very much enjoying the tightening of Rowan’s embrace all the same, I ask, “Rosa is who crafted the Luna del Lupo?”
Lady Time nods in the affirmative and blows out a long breath. “She was beautiful, and fiercely loyal. Savage with it, even. And she crafted that enchantment after we had an argument.”
Curious, I pull forward from Rowan’s arms, but leave my hands in his larger palms. “What about?”
“I… wasn’t in a good place. I’d told her that after the inauguration of the Office of Time, I planned to take a long vacation.
She was afraid—rightly so, it transpires—that once I left, I wouldn’t come back.
That those I’d appointed weren’t capable of holding the responsibility that would fall to them.
She feared the worst, and cast the enchantment to protect her loved ones from the effects of an altered timeline. ”
My sharp inhale is audible, and Senora Tiempo produces a self-deprecating chuckle.
“She was absolutely right. And of course she would rub that in my face if I could tell her.”
All I can do is nod my agreement, because yes.
“She’d fallen in love with a werewolf who had grand aspirations for an empire of his own—I believe you’re acquainted?”
Rowan’s grumbling growl precedes a tight nod.
“You should know that your Romulus promised to choose Rosa… then, when he had the benefit of her skills, he chose differently. A love like theirs would make him weak, he told her, and an Emperor couldn’t afford any weakness.”
Something important passes between the two, but I’m not following.
“So, she took back her enchantment and used it to protect her own.”
Absently, my fingers drift to where the Luna del Lupo is on my left hip. Rowan laces his fingers over the top.
“Of course, thanks to Milo—and the Dogs of War—Janus and Romulus’s corruption has been exposed and will now be dealt with.”
“What will happen to him now?” Rowan asks.
Scottish brogue and margaritas are a potentially dangerous combination.
Senora Tiempo shrugs. “Maybe a stay in one of his own little folds in the fabric of time will give him some space to reflect on what he’s done.”
“Not enough,” Rowan growls out.
“Noted. I’ll keep him at my pleasure for now… and we can discuss a more satisfactory resolution with the other heads of department.”
She turns her focus to me. “As for your Lost Colony, that’s a different problem. They’ve been displaced for a long time, so it’s not a simple case of returning them to the timeline.”
“Sarah’s different,” I argue. “She maintained her awareness throughout it all, so maybe she could be released?”
Senora Tiempo nods. “Yes, I’m looking forward to meeting her. Maybe we could allow her to decide her own fate?”
I think for a moment and then nod. Yes, that seems for the best. “And Remus? And any others?”
“I’ll find them all, Milo, you have my word.”
Rowan adds, “Remus will want to… talk with his brother, I’d imagine.”
“Sí, yes. Maybe Remus will need to—acclimate—among aware and likeminded others who would be skilled enough to help him.” She gives Rowan a pointed nod.
“Aye, the Dogs could handle that assignment.”
“It might be best if Romulus doesn’t know his brother is returned to the timeline until absolutely necessary.”
“Aye. He’d also need a codename. For security reasons.”
I lower my head, focusing on the flickering candles at the centre of the table.
This is it, then. Ranger’s already gearing up for his next mission.
Operation Magpie is over, and just like that, he’s moving on.
And with Janus incarcerated and stripped of his purple crackly god-powers, I no longer need the protection of the Dogs. Or Rowan.
Wishing I had another margarita, so that we could stay just a little while longer, I chew on my bottom lip.
“Ye okay, Pup?” Rowan gently squeezes my hand, and gives it a tug to get my attention. I nod my answer to my knees.
From across the table, Senora Tiempo quietly says, “I suspect it’s been a big day for Milo, and that the events are likely catching up.”
Rather than make myself seem pathetic, I stay quiet and allow that to be the explanation.
“Milo—” Rowan begins, but Lady Time cuts him off.
“Well, I promised to drop you back at a point in your timeline of your choosing. Rowan, perhaps you’d like to return to four days ago, and complete your leave in Scotland?
I can reset the global timeline—owing to the circumstances—and this would all never occur.
You and your Dogs would be assigned upon your return as usual. ”
His low and rumbling growl could be one of annoyance, or pleasure, I can’t tell.
“And Milo?” My head suddenly feels like the heaviest stone in the world when I drag it up to meet the god of Time’s dark gaze.
“I can’t stretch Ethel’s timeline—as per your original request. Nor can I slow it.
But I can offer you a unique opportunity.
I can erase your timeline as you know it, then reset it.
You would return as you are now—knowing what you know—to Georgia in nineteen-seventy-eight, where you’ll find two new roommates, Ethel and Anabelle, looking for a third to help split bill costs. ”
Beside me, Rowan’s whole body tenses; every muscle is tight as a bowstring.
Our host stands from the table, pausing briefly to conjure her glamorous feather headdress. “Perhaps, while I perform for our guests, you’d like to take the time to think over your future plans.”