Kiss Across Chaos (Kiss Across Time #10) - Tracy Cooper-Posey Page 0,79

a time.

Aran had longer legs and could have climbed three at once, but he stayed behind her.

As soon as they were out of sight, Jesse heard the thudding steps of Barbieri’s men on the other flight. They were in pursuit, as advertised.

At the top of the stairs, she paused. “Which way?” This was his grand plan, after all.

“Pick one!” Aran shouted.

She turned right and ran. The corridor was empty, with doors on either side. Bedrooms, she guessed. Maybe a bathroom, or maybe they were still using pitchers, basins and chamber pots.

The thudding grew louder.

“Pick a room!” Aran shouted.

Jesse took the next door on the right, gripped the knob and twisted as she rammed her shoulder against the solid door. Behind her, she heard Aran’s breath expel and the smack of flesh upon flesh. The fastest of the men had reached Aran. Jesse didn’t turn to look, because that would slow her down. She scanned the interior of the room. Bed. Closet. Bare boards. Night table. Lamp. Nothing useful. Maybe the lamp as a cudgel…

Aran shut the door and turned the key in the lock and spun to face her. He held his side, breathing hard. He had a stitch. “Window,” he said breathlessly and put his hand on the door, as if he could hold it closed.

“What?”

“Open the window.”

Her puzzlement hung in her mind like a neon question mark, but she lunged for the window, snagged the catch open and shoved the bottom pane up. It shrieked but rose.

Heavy bodies rammed against the door, which creaked and made the frame shiver. A couple more of those and the lock would give, or the frame itself…

“Stand in front of the window,” Aran told her.

Jesse stepped into the middle of the window. “What the fuck?”

“Trust me,” Aran said and ran at her.

The question mark in her mind flashed and boomed, as Aran took her off her feet, his arm around her. They fell backward through the window.

Jesse shrieked.

The bedroom door behind them burst open, but they were already falling.

“Trust me,” Aran breathed once more, as they plunged toward the earth.

Time swiped at them.

Chapter Eighteen

The living room with the old hearth and the armchair was still turned away from the window had never looked so sweet. Jesse untangled her arms from around Aran’s neck, as the post-battle adrenaline surged. She put her face in her hands and breathed hard. No words came to her.

Aran was still breathing hard. Too hard.

Jesse lowered her hands in time to see him pull up his sweater.

There was a neat two inch slit in his side. Blood poured from it.

Jesse froze, fear stealing every thought, every instinct she’d carefully honed for moments just like this one. She’d applied field first aid dozens of times in her life. She’d rallied her unit, got them back on their feet and fighting. This moment was no different, only it was, because it was Aran who buckled while she got over herself.

Jesse managed to get her arms around him. He was a dead weight and she nearly went down with him because of his size. She got her foot underneath her and thrust. “No, no, no…Aran!” She couldn’t shake him because she was holding him up.

With Herculean effort, she staggered over to the armchair and dropped him into it. He fell back.

She leapt to the hooks by the front door and snatched the wool scarf hanging there and returned to the chair, folding the scarf. She pushed the wadded scarf up against his wound. “Aran, listen to me. Aran?”

He stirred but didn’t answer.

“Aran!” She gripped his jaw and shook him with her spare hand. She slapped his cheek, not lightly. “Aran, wake up! You can’t pass out yet!”

He stirred and his eyes opened, narrowed in pain. She saw the glittered black of his pupils, behind the lashes.

“Are you listening?” She kept her voice sharp and commanding, even though it shook as she spoke. “Aran, can you hear me.”

His throat worked. His lips formed a ‘yes’ even though no sound emerged.

“I’m going to pull you out of the chair,” she told him. “All you have to do is jump. For once, I’m going to steer the jump, okay? You just have to make the jump. Got it?”

Nothing.

“Aran! Do you understand?” She patted his face once more.

His chin lifted and fell.

Relief touched her, but a new worry gripped her. She’d never steered a jump. She’d never controlled one in any way. But she had heard everyone at the big house talk about steering jumps,