Time Spirit - Golden Blood Part 8

"That's the tree." Harrison cleared his throat and pointed to the shadowy pine on the edge of the sand.

"Cool."

He clicked the door open. The interior light came on, illuminating the car, giving him another taste of her stunning beauty. His breath caught and his limbs refused to move.

"What?" A nervous smile twittered across her features.

"You know how they sometimes say that angels take on human form?"

She nodded, her emerald eyes glowing.

"I think when they do, they look just like you."

Her expression began to crumple with that desperate look, so he grinned.

"Okay, that was a line."

The tension snapped with her melodic laughter.

"Did it work?"

"Nearly." She blushed.

He didn't mean to go and ruin the lightness after that, but he couldn't stop himself. He placed his arm across the back of her seat and leaned in close.

"Everyone at school always talks about how beautiful you are. I bet none of them know it's not just skin deep. Thanks for letting me see you tonight."

Her lips parted with a small intake of breath. It was taking every ounce of will power not to lean forward and kiss her. He was losing the battle until his eyes ran down her face. A cold shiver raced up his spine.

As if the quill of G.o.d was dripping ink, a star shaped mark came to life on Gemma's collarbone.

He jerked back.

"What's... what's that mark?"

He reached out to touch it, but she slapped his hand away. Her face blanched and she pulled her shirt together with a tight fist. Turning in her seat, she faced the front. He watched her jaw muscles go tight as she slammed her teeth together.

Wanting to know more, but unwilling to suffer in the tense silence for a second longer, Harrison let out a soft sigh. "Well, let's climb this tree before it gets too late."

Gemma's head jerked to look at him. He couldn't decipher her expression. It was either disappointment or relief or maybe it was anger, but he couldn't help feeling it was more at herself than at him.

They climbed the tree in silence and found a perch on the top branch. He kept the conversation light, pointing out star constellations and sharing some of the crazy ideas he came up with while up here. She smiled and laughed, but it felt forced. The lightness from earlier had fled and Harrison had a feeling they wouldn't get it back.

After only forty minutes they climbed back down and he drove her back to her bike. He didn't try to touch her or get close again. If he was really truthful, fear was playing a small part in his decision. He would be an idiot to ignore the fact that she was unusual.

The image of a red mark pulsing on her collarbone made his skin bubble as he watched her speed away. He wasn't sure he wanted to get any closer to this girl, but knew that want and reality were two very different things. He seemed drawn to her by some magnetic force. It was pointless to fight it. He just needed to establish a few ground rules and honesty was going to be one of them, whether she liked it or not.

Pulling open his car door, he decided to let her have her peace for the rest of the weekend, but come Monday, he was getting some answers.

Chapter Seven.

St. Augustine, Florida - 2011AD Gemma flicked her locker open with a frown. It had been a c.r.a.ppy Monday. It had started off badly with a run that left her feeling ragged and scored her a big lecture from her father. Her mother then jumped in with a lengthy scientific explanation about how the body works and repairs itself after exercise.

"If you push yourself too hard, you will weaken your muscles and be no use. We insist on this strict regime so your body will be functioning at its peak. Now don't go messing with it!"

Gemma managed not to roll her eyes throughout any of it, but it was an effort. She left feeling berated and edgy.

Once at school, Harrison had sought her out before the bell and asked that they get together for a chat. She was instantly wary and told him she probably couldn't tell him what he wanted to know.

"I need my privacy. You have to respect that."

He pretended not to care, but she could sense how p.i.s.sed he was. He stalked off leaving her feeling annihilated and the school day hadn't even begun.

Thankfully the last period bell had just rung and Gemma couldn't get out of there fast enough. Dumping her weighty biology textbook at the back of her locker, she fished around for her skinny English journal and felt her insides twist at the putrid breath tickling the nape of her neck.

"So I hear you had a date on Sat.u.r.day."

Gemma cringed as Jordan Monroe reminded her of another reason to hate her day. Someone had spotted Gemma and Harrison in the parking lot on Sat.u.r.day night. The gossip had been thoroughly spread before Sunday lunch, apparently.

"It wasn't a date. I just happened to b.u.mp into him."

"Not sure I believe that, but okay." Jordan snaked around her and leaned against the lockers.

Gemma took a step away from him, but he grabbed her open jacket and pulled her back. She felt no fear. Of all the people at school he was the least scary.

"Why are you wasting time with that weed when you should be with me?"

"Don't make me sick. This jacket's suede, I don't want to ruin it." She gave him a sickly sweet smile.

"You really are a frigid b.i.t.c.h, aren't you?" He ran his hand up her arm.

"Why? Because I don't want to date an arrogant p.r.i.c.k who smells like Old Spice? I think that makes me normal."

She flicked his hand off and slammed her locker closed. Jordan's face had taken on a hard edge after her Old Spice comment. Her body instantly readied itself for battle in spite of her inner screams to back off. Something about this loser always brought out the worst in her. She managed to step away from him, feeling her pride build as self-control took over. She would have made it more than two steps if he hadn't made his next comment.

"Well, maybe once the compet.i.tion has been eliminated you might think differently."

Gemma's heart slammed into her ribcage. Clinging to her inner monologue, she calmly turned on her heel to face him.

"Jordan, you touch Harrison and I will hunt you down. I don't care how much trouble it causes me, you will suffer."

His eyes blackened with a sneer. "You know I don't care about that weed. I just want to get freaky with the freak."

He ran a sweaty hand up her arm and placed it on her shoulder, pulling her towards him. She swallowed back the bile burning her throat, her mind switching to battle mode. Keeping her voice slow and clear, she gave the enemy his final out.

"I can think of six different ways to break every bone in your hand. It will take me three seconds to choose one."

His eyes narrowed with skepticism.

"One." She swallowed. "Two."

His hand dropped away and he shot her a malignant look before backing off. She had a feeling it wouldn't be over that easily, but it would probably scare him away for a week or two. At least he knew she meant it.

She ran a hand over her face and smoothed back her hair.

"What was that all about?"

The sound of Harrison's voice made her jump, yet instant relief flooded her system. She didn't understand how the guy was able to make her sweat with fear yet still make her feel safe enough to be herself. The idea of downloading the last five minutes made her turn with a welcome smile that quickly disappeared. Her mouth froze shut. He wasn't alone.

Dana stood next to him, close enough that their hands kept brushing. Chelsea was on the other side doing much the same. Behind him Courtney hovered and behind her stood Darren. Gemma wondered if the ringlet blonde knew she was being thoroughly checked out by Mr. XBox.

She caught Courtney's eye before her gaze dropped to the floor.

"It was nothing."

A quick glimpse of Harrison showed a smoldering face.

"Are you okay?" Gemma glanced up at Courtney, a ringlet bobbed against her cheekbone as she tipped her head, looking concerned.

"Of course she is." Dana threw a black look over her shoulder.

"I was just checking D. Your brother can be a jerk sometimes."

"First cla.s.s." Darren mumbled.

"He's not that bad!" Dana's expression was dark and sulky.

"What did he want?" said Harrison.

"Um. Just..." Gemma fought for a bland expression. The group before her showed no mercy as they waited for an answer. "Well, he..."

"Cut out your tongue?" The look on Dana's face told Gemma she was a pitiful wretch.

"No, I just don't..."

"Don't what?"

Gemma's mouth went into gold fish mode. Harrison soon put her out of her misery... sort of.

"Leave her alone you guys. Gemma needs her privacy."

Dana's lips jumped into a smug smile. Gemma glanced up at Harrison and didn't see the anger she was expecting. Instead he looked disappointed, which was a million times worse.

Gemma wanted to counter the attack with some witty words that would make them all smile and realize she wasn't a complete dork. Harrison would laugh, step forward and kiss her forehead in that adoring way guys do in the movies. He'd then wrap his arm around her waist and walk her out to her bike where he'd... but who was she kidding. As she stood fighting off complete humiliation the only thing she got were pins and needles in her toes. She closed her eyes and held in the scream.

If it weren't for this stupid tingling that was clawing its way up her body, she wouldn't need her privacy. Without taking her eyes off the floor she turned the opposite direction and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster. She wanted to walk the whole way out of sight, but the tingling had reached her ribcage forcing her to sprint before she reached the corner.

Tearing down the next hallway she made a beeline for the bathroom hating the self-loathing that followed her. Rushing to the end stall, she flung open the door. She didn't have time to think about it, the tingling had already reached her shoulders. Bolting the door with one swift click, she closed her eyes and ground her teeth against the imminent pain.

Paris, France - 1793AD Gemma's body felt like it had been stabbed with a thousand knives as she got to her feet. It always took a moment to adjust and it always hurt. Clothes that smelt stale were thrown in her direction. The coa.r.s.e fabric would feel horrible against her skin and she cringed to think what disgusting things lay hidden in the folds of the male breeches she was holding.

"Quickly! Get dressed and hide your hair, Gemma." Her father's voice was urgent. Something must be wrong. She obeyed, in spite of the smell, and watched her siblings do the same, concern flickering over their faces as they soaked in the situation. With the help of her mother, she managed to shove her hair down the back of her shirt. It felt uncomfortable against her skin, but she knew she had more important things to worry about.

Scanning her surroundings, she took in the cobblestone street, the cold stonewalls and the filth that plastered both. The stench in the air was pungent, but much worse was the vibration of discontent that swirled around her.

"Where are we?"

"Paris." Her mother's voice was severe. "1793."

"The French Revolution?"

The distant sound of an angry mob could be heard wafting in the air and Gemma felt a shiver run down her spine.

"My timing's a little off. According to my a.n.a.lysis, these events shouldn't be occurring until tomorrow."

"We'll be fine, Dad. Just tell us what you want to do." Dom was always so calm in crisis situations. He loved these trips the most.

Gemma's pulse pounded in her throat as she listened to her father's steady voice.

"Marie Neveu and her daughter, Emilie, have been harboring a clergyman. They are going to be discovered at any moment. This will send them to the guillotine. I've found a safe hideout for them on the outskirts of the city, but we must get there before sundown.

"Dominic, I want you to take your sisters. You three are in charge of getting the woman and her child to this point." He pointed at a hand-sketched map and waited until three heads nodded. "Your mother and I are going to find the man who can arrange safe pa.s.sage to England and make sure he gets them out of here on time."

"Are these two worth the risk, Alistair?"

Gemma knew her mother's main concern was her children. She didn't care who else's life could be at stake.

"Nothing is certain, but these two lives could enhance our future. Emilie is a masterful pianist. Who knows what she might bring to our culture."

"We're risking this for a pianist?" Ruby said.

"We're risking this to better someone else's life." Alistair Hart's eyes bore into his eldest daughter.

"Sorry, Daddy."

Gemma reached for her sister's hand and gave it a little squeeze. "Let's go."

It did not take long to find the house. Gemma cringed to think the palatial Parisian home would probably be in ashes by the end of the night. Persuading the mother of their rescue attempt was challenging in spite of Ruby's excellent French, but the woman moved swiftly when Dom lifted her daughter onto his shoulder and began trooping towards the door.