Darcy had a point there and Claire knewit.
“Go home, Claire,” Darcy said then, awarethat she had finally given her friend something to think about.“Get out of here before you do something stupid. After a goodnight’s sleep you’ll realize that you just need to keep your headdown and forget about what you saw.”
“I can’t just forget.”
“You had better, and don’t you be callingthe ACLU!”
Chapter 3
If Darcy was right about anything it wasthat Claire needed to get out of there and clear her head. Givingup on her lunch, Claire told her supervisor she was going home witha headache and left the building.
But she could not erase the image of thatprison, those two long rows of cages. It was one thing to keepanimals for scientific experimentation. Perhaps it was not aPETA-friendly concept, but at least it was accepted. But to keeppeople? That was something else entirely.
Claire tugged at the edges of her cardiganand wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection with a tremor ofrepulsion. While the Native American man had seemed more than alittle animalistic, the other man, for all his savage appearance,had more in him than anger.
Something had to be done for them. Butwhat?
And where had they come from? What was Dr.Fielding working on? Surveillance? Bah! There was something morethan that going on. Something had potentially transported notinformation but two men through time.
Time travel. Claire shook her head. It wasludicrous, or at least unprecedented. The two men might have justbeen in costume. Exceedingly authentic costumes. Geez, she scoffedinwardly, for some reason that sounded far more unreasonable thanher time travel notion.
Lost to the mad scramble of thoughtsclashing with the questions in her mind, Claire robotically pulledher keys from her purse, absently unlocking the door of her ToyotaPrius as she approached. The usual beep-beep and flash of hertaillights passed unnoticed but the vice-like grip that wrappedaround her wrist as she reached for the door handle brought herback to the present with a squeal of surprise. In a heartbeat, shewas yanked to the ground, a rough hand clamped over her mouth,cutting off her cry. For a moment, she froze in shock and denial. Athousand news reports of women assaulted and killed flashed throughher mind, sending an icy blade of sickening fear through hergut.
Then somehow the adrenaline born of panickicked in, and Claire began struggling against the arms that heldher. She clawed at the hand covering her mouth, trying to pry itaway, until her eyes … and her nose … caught up with hermind.
The arm and hand that held her were large,filthy, and bloody.
The smell that assailed her held themetallic tang of dried blood, perspiration, and death.
A harsh voice sounded in her ear, speakingwords she couldn’t make out, but Claire recognized it immediately.It was hard to forget something that sounded like that.
Something that smelled like that.
He spoke again. The rhythm of his gutturalwords was familiar but she still couldn’t make them out. She triedto speak against his hand, and after a moment he reluctantly liftedit away, his body tensed to react should she dare scream. “I can’tunderstand you,” she whispered shakily, wondering if her death wasimminent.
“Send me back!” came his carefullyenunciated reply accompanied by a rough squeeze that nearly stoleher breath. His command sounded like “Sen mae back” and was stillnearly unintelligible, but Claire got his point.
“I can’t!” Claire choked out, quaking withfear as she launched a futile struggle against him once more. Themass of his huge body felt even larger behind her than her shortglimpse of him in the cell had led her to believe. His arms werelike steel bands around her, making her resistance pointless.
He twisted her about in his arms untilClaire was staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Up close, hewas even more terrifying. His black beard was crusted with bloodand grime, as was what she could see of his face and arms andclothes. The whole of him was just as nasty as it had seemed from adistance. “Send me back home,” he commanded fiercely once more, hishands rough on her upper arms as he gave her a little shake. Hadshe truly just been thinking that there might have been a softerside to this man, whoever he was? She was at his mercy and suddenlyregrettably sure that there was none within him.
“I—I told you, I can’t,” she repeated,terror evident in the high octave of her voice.
“Who can? Take me tae who can!” he growledferociously, sending a more violent shudder of alarm racing throughClaire’s limbs, and she began to fight again, pushing againsthim.
“Stop fightin’ wi’ me, lass. I mean ye naeharm,” he said, enunciating each word slowly to ensure that he wasunderstood.
An incredulous squeak escaped her. “Oh, isthat so? Where did all that blood come from then?”
“From me.”
Claire’s eyes darted over him in disbelief,finally seeing the half-healed wounds on his forearms and one onhis neck. His left leg was caked in blood from the knee down. Thenshe raised her eyes to his vivid blue ones, held them. Of course,they were all she could see beneath his matted hair and beard, butthose eyes didn’t glow with murderous intent or with cold rage.Instead, they held the same despair and desperation she had seen inthe lab when he’d been caged. While desperate men could dodesperate things, and logically Claire knew she should fear for herlife, somehow she felt the fear ebb just as it had in the lab.
“Are you badly hurt?”
Clearly, the question startled him, much asit had her. His gaze turned to bewilderment for a brief spellbefore the anxiety began to return. “I want tae gae home.”
Heart pounding wildly against her ribs athis impassioned words, Claire felt her chest tighten with emotion,and tears sprang to her eyes as sympathy rushed through her. Sheunderstood that. She knew what it was like to desperately wantsomething you could not have.
To beg and plead, curse and wail at Fate andstill be denied.
Suspended by the thought, Claire stared upat
