Yes…it was a difficult thing for Kiera, confessing who she really was, where she'd come from. The only thing she was guilty of was being in the wrong place at the wrong time when the unthinkable had happened. But with her secret shared, the weight of bearing it alone became infinitely more endurable. To feel more comfortable in one's own skin was like finding gold. Not fool's gold, the genuine article. There was greater freedom being with Carlos now. Her having confessed that the world she had come from was 66 years into the future had made it possible.
Relief washed over her like a river of healing, renewal. Genuineness was refreshing. Candor was sweet. Honesty had replaced furtiveness, the conscience-weakening constant of having to lie when all she wanted to do was help him, achieve the same goals. She could open up, holding nothing back, the way she had wished it could have been from the start.
For Carlos, who had been well on his way to smashing the bond they had forged, the level of trust inevitably deepened. He had apologized profusely, wishing that all the rotten things he had ever said, all those times he had had to, out of necessity, question her loyalty, browbeat her for deflection, had never left his mouth. He accepted the bulk of what she'd told him. Wrapping his head around the whole ball of wax would take time. It was like telling a close friend the friendship had run out of gas. You, the person they thought they knew, trusted with their life, was a fraud.
Of course, Kiera wasn't a fraud, but she was a novelty. How many people could say they worked with someone who had come from the future? To hear Kiera tell it, a future that might be jeopardized due to what she was doing in this…continuum.
Mind boggling didn't come close.
They were sitting in Carlos' apartment, about a week after the incident at Mike Venable's house, the turning point in their relationship, a new beginning. It wasn't that late, but it wasn't early either. Flashbacks of what had almost happened in that dark, creepy basement plagued Kiera from time to time. Mercifully, those images were fading, but not quickly, nor thoroughly enough. She strove so hard to forget what Mike had been about to do to her, how she had pleaded with him to kill her, but erasing that kind of psychic trauma wasn't easy. Though she had been born in the lap of advanced technology, she was still one hundred percent human, with all the frailties and foibles that went with the condition.
Like a bad dream one hopes to never have again, imagery from the madness was robbing her of sleep. The funny thing was, of late, coming here to this man's home did a world of good. Increasingly, it was here where she found a large measure of security.
Carlos understood, better able to interpret her nuances, since she had entrusted him with this knowledge of her true origin. He knew better where she was coming from, literally and figuratively.
He had never been much of a tea drinker, but Kiera had gotten him started.
"You look tired," Carlos said, sounding patient, his eyes intently fixed upon her. He sat beside her on his couch, quietly drinking in her reticence. She wasn't all that talkative tonight. He was just thankful that she had chosen his doorstep to, not darken, never darken, brighten. When had he ever had that much fun at the cabin? Not even with Craig, who owned the place, had he had such a great time. Being there with Kiera had put a whole other slant on getting away to the woods. And they had had plenty, of fun, in the squeakiest-clean sense of the word; it had been very good.
Again, the suggestion that they get away together had him wanting to ask her to go with him again. This time maybe they could stay for a week, not just a weekend, crime-solving permitting.
"Yeah," Kiera acknowledged, wishing a decent night's sleep wasn't so hard to come by. She released a breath, cocked her head to one side and listened to the soft music playing in the background. She inhaled softly, losing herself in the serenity of the classical brilliance. Carlos' taste in music had a domino effect. He had asked her once what she liked and she, on that occasion, had told him that he would have to introduce her to his preference, which had turned out to be varied. Currently, Beethoven's Concerto No. 3 in C Minor was soothing her.
He was also a big fan of the rhythms of his heritage.
With eyebrows rising, Carlos hesitated, wondering if he should put it out there. Was it his place to even ask? If he wanted better piece of mind, he knew that he had to. "Where are you crashing these days?" His fingers brushed against her teacup and he frowned. It was cold, which meant the liquid it held was too. She hadn't touched what he'd made, especially for her, in some time. Normally, dragon fruit plum devotion herbal tea did the trick, had her purring like a kitten after a tough day.
Well, uh, maybe purring was a lavish exaggeration. Though, the brew had been known to work wonders with her challenging moods in the past. And, yes, his too.
Times spent fraternizing weren't excuses for breaking open the hard stuff each and every time. Other liquid refreshment, less taxing on the liver, which took the edge off the way booze could, wasn't anathema.
"Are you all right?" He got the feeling that she wasn't going to tell him where she resided these days. The month-to-month lease on her old place had expired months ago.
He stood, took up her cup, his gaze never leaving her face. On his way to the kitchen, with his eyes looking over his shoulder, he anticipated her answer. He hoped to see her lovely smile at least once tonight. It would make his. "I'm going to warm this up for you." He lowered the cup he'd half-raised and gently waved it to-and-fro.
Nodding, Kiera smiled, a weak imitation of what Carlos had his heart set on. "Thanks."
"So, where?"
"Around..." was her blunt answer.
From the kitchen, his deep voice wafted to her. For a crazy, fleeting moment, Kiera would have enjoyed having him hum her a lullaby. He had a beautiful voice, alive, passionate, full of righteous indignation when it looked as though criminals were besting Vancouver's finest, but gentle when he knew she needed to hear it that way.
When was the last time anyone had lulled her, barring their having an ulterior motive? She thought of Kellog and her feeling of well-being eluded her. She tried getting some semblance of serenity back. She knew how much Carlos wanted that for her. She had made herself a solemn promise. She was not going to use Kellog's boat as a place to stay. It left a bad taste in her soul.
As Carlos poured her cold tea back into the pot, he rued how angry he'd been with her when, having judged her to be an unforgivable liar, she'd been unworthy of his faith and loyalty. Could he ever live his recent failure down? He hoped so for both their sakes.
She heard the programmed tick-tick-tick of his stove before the burner he was turning on ignited. Appliances in this time were so crude. She recalled telling Mr. Fairweather that, "They dry their hands with these," having dangled a paper towel under his holographic nose. Another smile Carlos missed out on graced Kiera's face as her introspection played itself out.
Since her revelation, Carlos was regularly trying to put himself in her shoes, juggling what she'd come from with what she was dealing with now. His heart swelled; she really was some kind of superwoman, a woman his feelings for were starting to show. He made no apologies, wouldn't have known where to start.
He hadn't decided if that was a good or bad thing. He did know that whatever she needed from him, she would get, no strings attached.
Her little boy, Sam, her wedded mate, Greg…Carlos thought hard about her loved ones, going on without her. They lived in her heart. Did he? She was another man's wife; they had a son together. His thoughts collided with his emotions. Could he be as strong as she if he had left a child and wife behind? He didn't envy Kiera, no way could he do that. He tried resisting the inclination, knowing that she didn't want his pity, not a drop of it. Would she accept his love, if he offered it? The urge to go out there and comfort this brave woman overwhelmed him, her being so strong, so single-minded in will and purpose. His mind swam for as many times.
The teapot whistled, tugging him back to the intimacy of this paradoxical setting.
The affecting music touched a place deep inside herself and Kiera shuddered, a far cry from involuntarily. Longing for the impossible, a place to really belong, she stifled a cry.
"Y'know…I've, uh, been meaning to ask you…"
"What?" The interrogative hung in the air. Restlessly, Kiera shifted on the couch, resting her head back against the backrest. Interestingly, time felt draggy, so unlike its linear self. Her heavy lids forced her to close her eyes. What little she had drunk of the tea was doing its work. The pungent, full-bodied blend was a delight for the senses of smell and taste. Such indulgent deliciousness wasn't lost on her. Relaxation was nipping at her resolve to stay tense and beginning to win.
He didn't say anything for several protracting minutes, just listening to the strains of this particular passage. The violins in the throes of arpeggio tugged at his heartstrings.
"Carlos? Are you still there?"
She sounded dreamy-sleepy, he thought, grinning. All she had to do was ask and he'd be giving up his bed this night, or any night she asked.
"Very much so. I was double checking to see about that lemon I wish I had for your tea." His dogged search proved fruitless, yet again. He'd run out of lemons two days ago. Food shopping had been sacrificed for the sake of bringing serial killers to justice.
His preoccupation with trying to please her coaxed that smile he wanted to see, and was missing at the moment, yet again. Perhaps he'd get another chance before the night ended.
"So...what do you want to know?"
"Why does your firearm work only for you? And not for...someone else, say like me for instance?"
He set her cup of piping hot tea in place before her. She noticed the mini croissants he'd hunted up, creamy chocolatey ones. Yummy, Kiera thought.
"Would you like to fire my weapon?" she teased. He got that smile, treasuring it.
Such a beautiful, beautiful woman, seeped into every crevice of his mind. I'll pity her in here, where she'll never know, because I can if I want to. And I so want to. Such a special woman. Why couldn't she be a woman of these times, he lamented, inwardly pouting. And we met, and fell in love and...
He stopped torturing himself with the tyranny of what ifs.
"I wouldn't mind. Think I could?" Carlos asked, sounding too close in age to a young boy having a grand time alone in a store's toy department in the section where lads young and older lost themselves in action adventure of every description.
"Perhaps with some small amount of re-programming, I don't see why not," she temptingly appeased, seeing the glow in Carlos' eyes eclipse the promise in her voice. She knew her technologies' brilliant creator in his formative stage. She could ask what he might possibly come up with to grant her partner's request.
"What the department could do with a tidy stockpile of your futuristic babies." At least she had let him hold the superior weapon, letting him try it on for size, euphemistically speaking, in the basement of horrors that ugly night. Since that night, she had tipped him off to her entire ensemble of advanced technological marvels.
Kiera looked at Carlos funny, as though meeting him for the first time, well enough aware of what he was thinking.
Hearing the weirdness of how his phrasing had sounded, he amended, "I didn't mean…your babies. As in, well baby, babies. Not uh, like—"
"I know what you meant," Kiera said, pleased to bail him out. Amusement sparkled in her smoldering blue eyes, the most expressive eyes he'd ever known.
"So you'd let me use your shooter in a tactical situation? That is, if the need ever arose where I'd maybe have to?" Little boy enthusiasm was at work in his voice again.
"Maybe that isn't as much of an impossibility as you think." She took up her cup and drank more liquid comfort down. She tore a bit off the croissant, making no effort to hide her frown, but it disappeared as quickly as it had formed. "You see…I know someone…"
A someone she had kept mum about until now, which was as good a time as any to bring Carlos further up to speed. She hadn't told him about Alec, the young whiz, her irreplaceable ally, the father of the man, destined to become the 21st century's foremost technologic force of nature.
Now she would…
Kiera sighed, submerging herself deeper into the tranquility of this intimate atmosphere. She, who had no home, but she did have this.
"Carlos..."
"Yes, Kiera?"
"Remember the events at the Randall Farm?"
He nodded. "How could I forget? Watching myself bleed out in that musty storeroom?"
"There was a young man there..."
"Julian Randall."
"No. The other young man."
"Who's that?" He frowned, tapping his memory. "Wait...there was another-"
"Alec Sadler, Roland Randall's stepson."
Carlos set his mug filled with more tea down. His tea was lukewarm, but he didn't mind. "Yeah. I came across his name in the report. What about him?"
She took a deep breath and haltingly divulged, "He is, rather, he will be the inventor of my various devices and my CMR."
"Okay..."
"And...he's my source for everything informational. The soft voice in my head, my secret ally. Without Alec, I would have been adrift in your world. Found out, and most likely imprisoned now, the way I almost was as you might remember, when he couldn't access my CMR."
"I remember the weirdness you went through." He hung his head, remorseful. "When I stupidly accused you of being some wild kind of traitor."
"When I kept you in the dark."
Carlos nodded, and ate up Kiera's half-smile.
She used her invoking eyes on Carlos, trusting in him to suspend disbelief further. "He's only in his teens."
"Boy genius."
Kiera raised the lip of her teacup to her lips. Sipping slowly and reveling in the tea's flavor, which was such a hit with her, she appreciatively swallowed. "That's putting it mildly..."
Carlos reached over to stroke her cheek. "Will I meet him?"
"How does tomorrow sound?"
"Like we should get some sleep if we hope to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."
"Can I stay...here?"
"I thought you'd never ask." More ground gained, Carlos irresistibly couldn't help thinking. The way she's opening up to me like a flower.
Gently, Kiera said, "I'm asking."
"You're staying." Carlos shifted closer to her, his smile, alluring, for her to savor along with the tea.
TBC