Page 18 of Stay with Me

She picked up the test tube again, and this time she wet her finger first before rubbing it around the empty bottle. Sheswiped it thoroughly, went through the same steps as before, then popped her finger into her mouth.

Closing her eyes, she held her breath and waited for all the signs that she’d crossed the space-time barrier.

Nothing happened.

“Whip him”resounded in her head and made her muscles tense. She had to get to Nicholas. Now. Before it was too late to help him.

But what if she couldn’t go again? What if she’d used up the holy water?

She shook her head, trying to clear her frustration and think calmly and rationally. When she’d been working with Harrison to find Ellen, he’d talked about his overlaps and about reaching a point where he could no longer fabricate them. He’d eventually concluded that the body built up a tolerance to the holy water like other drugs, requiring higher doses to have the same effect.

She pushed to her knees and crawled to the nook on the opposite wall where she’d left the second bottle of holy water. As much as she resisted the idea of disturbing it, she’d have to open it and use a little. She had no choice.

She found the bottle where she’d left it. As she pulled it out, she gave it a shake. It felt like it had the same amount of holy water as the one she’d given to Dawson. She wouldn’t need all of it. But how much would be sufficient?

Lowering herself back to a comfortable position, she used the tip of her knife to ply away the stopper. It crumbled easily, and she had to work to keep pieces from falling inside the bottle. After it was open, she once again made sure she had her knife and the dagger.

As a memory popped up on her mobile screen from five years ago, she tapped it, bringing up a snap of her, Dawson, and Mum. From their holiday at the White Cliffs of Dover. The three of them were standing at the edge of a precipice, the bright blueof the strait behind them. And they’d all been smiling. Even Dawson.

Sybil touched her finger to her mum’s face, the features so much like her own. Then she traced Dawson’s smile. Even though he’d been smiling, that last year before Mum disappeared had been hard for him. He hadn’t liked that Mum had moved up to Fakenham in Norfolk for work. Sometimes Sybil wondered if Mum had really moved for her job or if she’d done it to force Dawson to be more independent and stop relying upon her so much.

The smiling face of the beautiful woman looked back at her. “I’m sorry, Mum.”

As much as she’d tried to keep pushing Dawson toward recovery the way Mum would have wanted, Sybil had obviously failed at it. In fact, she’d only made things worse.

“I loathe your visits. I wish you’d gone missing instead of Mum.”

Dawson’s words tore at Sybil, and she pressed a hand against her chest to ease the ache. If she could trade places with her mum, she would.

Should she go missing? Why not give her brother exactly what he wished for?

“Fine, Dawson.” Frustration rushed in again to lay siege to her heart alongside the pain. “I’ll go missing if that’s what you want.”

She’d stop visiting him and barging into his life. She’d give him the chance to figure out his own way forward without interfering. Isaac had told her to take a break from Dawson someplace far away where she wouldn’t be tempted to rush to aid him the next time he needed her.

What was farther away than 1382? She could take a trip to the past, help Nicholas escape from Reider Castle, and bring an end to the danger plaguing him. After all, in his weakenedcondition there was no guarantee he’d make it out without assistance.

Her pulse gave an extra hard thud. Did she dare do something like this? She was well aware of the risks such a trip would entail. She’d watched Harrison drink the water and put himself in a coma. She’d anxiously waited for the holy water to show up in an old vault in his home. Even when she finally had the holy water and revived him, Harrison had still almost died, had needed a second dose to keep him alive. They’d been lucky enough to locate a final vial for him to drink.

She might not be as fortunate. Of course, when Harrison learned she was in a coma, he’d immediately recognize what she’d done and would try everything in his power to keep her alive. At some point, she’d have to find holy water to leave in a hiding place for him. While that sounded easy enough, from Harrison’s stories about his efforts to retrieve the water, the task was incredibly difficult.

But if she died doing this, who would miss her? Certainly not Dawson—not after everything he’d said. Not her dad—she hadn’t spoken to him in years. Not anyone at the agency—she was out on cases so often, she rarely saw her coworkers.

Isaac might miss her at first. But he needed to get over her and move on with Liana. Her friends from kickboxing and the CrossFit gym would miss her, but they had busy lives of their own.

She lifted the bottle and fingered the rounded middle. Basically, she was alone in life.

Usually she didn’t mind being by herself. Why, then, did her future suddenly loom so lonely and bleak? Was it because, for as selfish as Dawson was, she’d had someone in her life who needed her? Had purpose in taking care of him? Had clung to the hope he’d change? Now with all that ripped away, she had no idea what she truly wanted out of life.

She brought the bottle closer to her mouth. If she was going to execute this mission, then she needed to do so soon. From everything she’d learned from Harrison about time crossing, it could take hours to revive in the past, depending upon the body’s depletion of energy used during the entanglement exchange. It was possible for the exhaustion to last anywhere from a few hours to a dozen.

If she slept for twelve hours, she wouldn’t wake up until after dark, which would work to her advantage in assisting Nicholas to freedom. But after so many hours, he’d be even weaker from another whipping, maybe even dead.

She shook her head. She couldn’t take the chance and wait twelve hours. Nicholas needed her now. She’d have to create a more immediate but less permanent crossing like the previous two she’d experienced.

Without further debate, she tipped the bottle and drank about half the liquid—at least from what she could gauge from the weight of the bottle.

She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and waited.

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