Final Hours by Cate Dean Read Free Book Online Page A

hand on his left wrist.
“Guy is going to do whatever he needs to do to stop you.”
    “The constant twinges in my shoulder will be a good
reminder. Not a word, Beth.” His fingers cupped her chin. “I will be ready for
him. Now, I believe I need to kiss you again. For luck,” he said against her
lips, just before he claimed them.
    This time the kiss was achingly sweet, and far too short.
Kane ended it, cradling her cheek, his hand so warm on her skin. Before she
could touch him he backed out of reach. “Now, Mac.”
    Gold light burst up from the circle, a shimmering,
transparent wall.
    “Is that the portal?” She didn’t plan to sound so awed, but
it was—awe inspiring; so beautiful it nearly swamped her. Like a breath-robbing
piece of art.
    “The doorway to endless possibilities.” Kane climbed the
steps, turned back to her. “I look forward to seeing what you do with your
possibilities. I will miss you, Beth.”
    His coat swirled around him as he swung to face the wall of
gold. Elizabeth hugged her waist and drew the image in her mind: of Kane’s face
edged in gold, the light tracing his aristocratic features, glinting in his
clear grey eyes.
    He closed those eyes for a second, before he reached out and
thrust his hand into the wall. Elizabeth let out a gasp when the light wrapped
around him, then winked out of existence, plunging the lab into darkness.
Endless seconds later, the lights flickered on, revealing confusion, concern,
and outright fear on the faces of the people who should have been used to the
portal.
    “Elizabeth!” Mac rushed over, gripping her shoulders. “Are
you okay, sweetheart?”
    “That wasn’t a normal—what do you call it?”
    “Departure—and no, it wasn’t. Kane’s signal went offline
right after he entered the portal. He’s out there with a nonworking transport,
and if I don’t find him fast, he may not be coming home. Stay here. Doc!”
    She watched him dodge people to get to the other side of the
lab, numb at his announcement.
    Without a working transport, Kane would be trapped.

Four
     
    Kane flew through the air and hit hard ground
shoulder first.
    Fortunately, it was his left shoulder, but it still hurt
like a bitch. Cursing, he pushed himself up, did a quick check of his
surroundings. The portal sent him to the back of some building, enclosed by
walls on three sides. Fresh razor wire ran just under the roofline, and he
heard the sound of cars to the other side of the wall.
    He held up his left wrist. The readout told him he was at
the right date, but the wrong location. Somehow, he ended up in Dover. On top
of that, he had lost the visual of his surroundings. He tapped the blank screen.
Nothing—no map, no landmarks—which left him essentially blind.
    “Bloody hell…” His voice faded as he spotted the blinking
light in the lower corner.
    His transport was offline.
    “No—” He tapped in the coordinates that would take him home.
The screen blinked—then blacked out completely. “Don’t panic.”
    He hit the black default button, their failsafe when
everything else went wrong. Sparks leapt out and snapped at him.
    “Shit.”
    Still cursing in every language he knew, he pushed to his feet
and unbuckled the leather band. There was a reset on the back. It
would—hopefully—reboot his screen. He refused to consider the possibility that
he was cut off from home. The problem had to be his personal transport. It was
a rough trip, the worst he’d experienced in quite some time. His transport
simply received the brunt of it.
    He leaned against the building, and promptly fumbled the
transport. His heart pounded at the close call. He turned it over, cupped it in
his palm, and used his pinky to push the reset button.
    There should have been a hum, and the tinkling music that
signaled a reboot. The silence was like a death knell.
    They had a backup for this contingency—didn’t they have a
backup? He pushed through the panic threatening to choke him, fought for