Chapter 29 Rose #3
“Jesus, Rose. Couldn’t you have picked a larger area?” Parker grumbles, rubbing his elbow. “Good work on your accuracy, though.”
I rub my pounding temples. I can’t believe I put up with this for months. McGregor’s antidote had better work.
“Every time I come and go, it’s from here. Neurovida knew we visited the past. We can’t risk being seen,” I say, surveying the empty corridor.
“How did they find us?” Parker asks. “Is it Matthews?”
“Shh, keep your voice down.” I lead the way to McGregor’s office, leaving streaks of rainwater on the floor in our wake. “All I know is someone posing as a police officer found Ella and showed her a picture of us.”
“What? Is she okay?” he blurts.
I roll my eyes. “No, I left her in an interrogation room and said good luck.” I scoff. “She’s fine. She’s smart, so she didn’t tell them anything, but we need to be careful. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
Our steps echo along the corridor toward McGregor’s office, the bare passage seeming to narrow with each stride. Everything we’ve worked toward comes down to this moment. If it doesn’t work—
“Welcome back,” McGregor says as we enter his office. He greets Parker with a firm handshake, then grabs some old towels from a cupboard and hands me one with a nod of his head. “Rose.”
“Thanks,” I say, drying my face. We may not be each other’s biggest fans, but we’ve come to understand one another since I stopped spending every second breathing down his neck.
He turns back to Parker. “Before we start, I need you to know this drug has only been tested on cells in a Petri dish, but I’ve followed the research in my journal, and I’m hopeful it will work.”
“Only one way to find out,” Parker says, stepping toward McGregor.
I wish I shared his confidence. My eyes are glued to McGregor as he attaches a needle to a syringe and draws clear liquid from a glass vial. Please God let this work.
McGregor removes the needle and attaches another, the light reflecting off the pointed tip. I hold my breath as he plunges the antidote into Parker’s muscular biceps and withdraws the needle.
“Now what?” Parker asks, pulling down his sleeve.
“The antidote works by interacting with your immune cells, which will take time,” McGregor says. “So, now we wait and see.”
“It’ll work,” Parker says. “And then I’m taking you to see your son.”
McGregor dips his head, hiding the tears shining in his eyes. “Let’s see if it works first,” he says, his voice taut.
I glance at my watch and sit behind McGregor’s desk, swiveling back and forth in his chair.
He’s conducting tests on Parker, who’s spent the last hour attempting to travel without success.
With every minute that ticks by, my body grows warmer.
I hack at my nails and check my watch for the hundredth time.
This needs to work. I can’t carry him for an extended period and risk losing control again.
I pull my vape from my pocket and slam it down onto the desk.
McGregor will berate me if I take one puff inside this building.
Needing something to do with my hands, I open the stolen journal lying on the desk before me. I turn the page and pause on a highlighted sentence. E2409—Inhibitor.
“McGregor, what’s this?” I call.
He walks over, adjusting his glasses. “It’s a drug that inhibits time travel. Interestingly, it has a similar chemical structure to the drug that removed Parker’s powers.”
E2409. Where have I heard that before?
“Rose,” Parker yells, and at the same time I crumple over the desk, intense pain shooting through my head.
It feels like someone’s playing a ruthless game of tug-of-war with my brain.
I clutch my hand to my head, where beads of sweat are forming over my temples.
My eyes shoot to Parker, and I jump to my feet.
Parker’s body is blurring. My head throbs again as if it’s being pierced with a sharp object, and I stumble forward.
“Let go,” Parker insists.
Of course. I’m holding him here while he’s trying to leave. It’s no wonder my head’s protesting. I ease my hold on him, expecting him to become translucent, but Parker’s appearance doesn’t change.
His face lights up. “Release it completely.”
“Are you sure?” I hesitate. “It might not be safe.”
“Please,” he begs.
I take a deep breath. “Okay, get ready.”
Parker glances at the tan skin of his wrist where his watch once sat and lowers his head. His hands clench into fists at his sides.
I ease my hold on him. My mind and body relax, and my headache eases. I sigh, yet uncertainty flashes across Parker’s face.
“That’s all you,” I say, moving around the desk until we’re facing. “Touch something?”
Parker reaches toward the desk, his hand hovering above McGregor’s fancy fountain pen. The room turns silent. He plucks it from the leather stand, eyes unblinking and mouth quivering. His eyes flicker to me, and a wide, disbelieving smile splits his face.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “He did it.”
Parker charges toward me and hauls me against his chest, lifting me off my feet. He laughs and McGregor slaps his desk in triumph.
“Thank you,” Parker says to McGregor as he places me down.
I try to step away from Parker, but he holds me against his chest. “Thank you,” he says, holding me in a bear hug, his breath warming the shell of my ear. “I owe you everything.”
My heart flips and I push him away. “It’s not over yet. We still have work to do.”
“I know. But first I want to double check my traveling abilities.” He turns to McGregor. “Then I’m taking you to see Henry.” He lowers his head, and his arms fall to his sides, hands clenched into fists. His body begins shaking, and a hint of a grin creeps across his face.
“Parker, wait.” The blood drains from my face. “When you return to our current time, your memories will split.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not going forward, I’m going back.”
“Where?” I ask.
“To say goodbye,” he says, his body blurring.
I sigh. “She went to a ball on the night of February twenty-first. Might be a good time to visit her.” I hate being a good person.
“Thanks, Rose.”
“Be careful,” I yell, but he’s already disappeared. I shake my head. He hasn’t traveled for an entire year, but I’m willing to bet he’ll appear minutes off his target. Talented ass.
I turn to McGregor. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back.”
Then our real work begins.