Veils, Book 3: The Veils Trilogy, #3

1

Dates

Through the tiny window, Griffin Strong saw the moonlight reflect off the leaves of the trees. An owl hooted, followed by the bellowing of some animal he didn’t recognize.

Is that an owl? a voice softly asked beside him. Natalia snuggled against him, her head resting on his shoulder, one arm draped over his chest.

Yeah.

What’s that other sound?

I dunno. I think it’s an alligator.

She snorted. Her breath wafted warm over his neck. I didn’t know alligators sounded like that. Sounds more like an angry bull.

It’s just a guess. I could be wrong.

Slipping her hand underneath the shirt, she played with his nipple. He brushed her fingers away. That tickles. It would have been arousing if they weren’t already exhausted. Exhausted from the day’s events, and exhausted from making love.

Mrs. Nat Strong, he murmured.

Yes, Mr. Strong?

Nothing. Just trying to adjust to this new reality. Next time we change time or places, if we’re anywhere near a jewelry store, let’s go get you a ring.

I don’t need a ring, she admitted.

He turned his head to face her. In the pale light, she was a barely recognizable shadow lying next to him on the bed. You don’t?

No.

I thought all women wanted a ring.

Maybe later, Nat said. But right now, I’m afraid if I do, some jackass might try to rob me of it. Or maybe kill me first without asking for it.

He had to admit she was probably right.

A thought that had been nagging him for some time returned. He figured this was as good a time as any to bring it up. Hey, Nat?

Mmm?

You know we haven’t been using any protection, he began. What happens if you get pregnant?

He felt her adjusting to get more comfortable. I don’t think I can. I haven’t had a period since this shit started, and I was due to start right before that first veil took me.

Griff sighed. We have females in our ranks. It’s a known fact that continued stress often prevents them from having their cycle. Maybe that’s what’s happening here.

Maybe.

They lay in silence and listened to the sounds of the swamp filtering from outside. He was finally on the verge of falling asleep when she spoke again.

Mrs. Griffin Strong, she murmured. Griffin Strong. Her voice trailed off for a second. Griff?

Yes, Mrs. Strong?

What’s your middle name? Do you have one?

It’s Montgomery.

She giggled. Really?

It’s Mom’s maiden name.

She nuzzled him. Montgomery. I like it.

Glad you do, he chuckled. How about you? You got a middle name?

It’s a common one. It’s Anne, with an E.

The silence continued to surround them, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of trees. The owls and gators must have retired for the night, Griff mused.

It was nice of Roose to marry us, Nat continued.

He chuckled. Don’t tell me. We didn’t need to have a ceremony performed either?

Oh, I liked having a ceremony. I especially liked having it with our friends there. Too bad we can’t figure out what today’s date is.

Well, we can make a general guess. Remember those food items we found? The expiration date on them said two thousand two. Actually, mine said ‘Best Sell By October fifth, two thousand two.’

So, considering how hot it is, this could be July or August, she mused.

August twelfth.

Huh?

My birthday’s August twelfth, he confessed. I missed Friday the thirteenth by three hours, according to my mother.

No kidding?

Nope. Although sometimes my folks would throw a goofy gift in, just to see my reaction. Actually, I liked the goofy gifts.

She ran her nails over his skin, sending a little tremor through him. Do you want to use that date as our anniversary?

It’s up to you.

Then let’s do it. August twelfth, two thousand and two is the day we got married.

Griff laughed at the absurdity. Nat playfully slapped his shoulder. What’s so funny?

This whole veils and time traveling mess. If you’re originally from twenty twenty, that means you’d been married to me for eighteen years! He guffawed again.

All right! All right! Let’s just stick to August twelfth, then, she snickered. We’ll figure out the year later.

"By the way, when’s your birthday?"

For real?

Yeah. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t interested.

You’re not going to believe me.

Oh? Try me.

August fourteenth.

He grunted. You’re lying through your teeth, he halfway accused.

Just you wait, Griff Strong. When I get back and get my hands on my driver’s license, I’ll make you eat those words.

No shit? August fourteenth?

No shit, Sherlock. Guess that makes us both Leos.

Hmm. Okay. What say we do this? My birthday’s on the twelfth, anniversary’s on the thirteenth, and then your birthday’s on the fourteenth. We can have a three-day holiday every year.

Okay. I’m in! She rolled over, shifting on the mattress of the narrow bed. Any idea what time it is?

I have no idea. I wish my watch still worked. All this time jumping has screwed it up. He watched as she sat up on the edge, throwing her legs over the side. Where you going?

I need to pee.

Not without me.

She laughed. One of these days you’ll no longer have to accompany me, and I’ll get lonely without you there.

Well, until these veils stop coming, I’m not letting you out of reach. I can’t risk having you taken away from me again. His voice hitched at the confession, damn him, but he couldn’t help it. He hated showing any emotion that might make him appear weak, but this woman had that effect on him. He’d never believed he could love someone as desperately as he loved her.

Nat cupped his cheek in her hand. Her voice was soft, the sound of tears unmistakable when she spoke. You know, Griff, at some point we’re going to have to let each other go so we can return to our own time.

Taking her hand, he kissed the inside of her wrist. I know, but I don’t have to be happy about it, he almost growled.

She snorted. "Actually, we have every reason to be happy about it, because it means we’ll eventually be together again, and be able to remain together."

After a two year wait, he reminded her.

Hey, be glad it’s not longer, she chided him. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the red raincoat they’d been using to cover themselves with and slid her arms into it. As she stood, he rolled over and got to his feet.

He carefully opened the bedroom door to peer out into the living area. The fireplace with its greenish flames continued to burn, meaning someone had just refreshed it. It threw out an eerie glow, to where he could see a lone figure lying on the couch. The rug in front of the fireplace was barren.

Before he could tell her someone was up, the door next to theirs opened, and a large figure lumbered into view. Griff pssted at the man, who paused to glance back at them.

Hey. You can’t sleep either? Roose whispered, adding a chuckle. On second thought, forget I asked.

Just taking a potty break, Griff replied.

Firelight reflected off the whites of the man’s eyes as he looked at the two of them. Together? Ain’t that taking this honeymoon thing a step too far? he half teased.

We’re going to remain in physical contact with each other, no matter what, Nat told him. In case one of those veils goes over us, we’ll stay together.

Griff checked the interior of the bathroom. How’s it look down there?

Roose caught onto what he was implying. The gators? I used the broom to keep them at bay.

Broom?

Yeah. Reaching around the doorframe, the man pulled it out from where he’d propped it against the wall. I shoved it brush-first down into the toilet before I went. If a gator decides to rise up out of the water and chomp down on my wiener, it’ll meet up with the bristle end of this thing first.

Griff chuckled. That’s ingenious.

Nat also praised the man for the idea. Roose lifted a hand, waving it off.

See you two in the morning, he told them, and ambled down the short hallway, back to the living room.

Nat slipped inside as Griff closed the door. It took them a couple of seconds for their eyes to readjust to the pale moonlight coming through the window over the toilet. Griff felt her take the broom from him. Here. Give me that.

He heard her lower the seat, then shove the broom down inside the short pipe that opened up over the swamp. Hold it for me, would you?

He took the handle and watched as she lowered herself onto the seat. It was awkward, but doable. Did you look down at the water first before sitting? he jested.

Ha ha. No. She grabbed some toilet paper as she continued to hold onto the broom handle with him. This memory is definitely going to stick with me for the rest of my life.

"Stick with you? For some reason, although the comment wasn’t intended to be punny, tickled him, and he began laughing. Stick with you!" he repeated.

Nat caught the joke and joined him in laughter.

The building jolted violently, nearly throwing her off the toilet. Griff grabbed her by the arm and jerked her up against him as the cabin shuddered a second time.

Griff, what—

Her next words were lost as the floor gave way beneath them, and they both plunged into hot, steamy water.

2

Springs

Griff broke the surface to find a cloudy sky hanging over him. It was broad daylight, which immediately told him they’d been caught in a passing veil. Wiping his face, he swiveled around as he tread water, searching the surface for sign of Nat.

"Nat? Nat! Can you hear me?"

Griff!

He whirled around, relief washing over him as he finally spotted her. He was still too weak from his wounds to go after her, but she was aware of that and began swimming to him. He noticed something in her hand, and realized she still held onto the broom. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Nat’s face reflected how he felt. When she was close enough, she extended the end of the broom to him. Grab on! He did without question. She pulled herself along as he kept it steady, until she was even with him. Was that a veil?

He looked around them. Had to be. It’s daytime, and from what I can tell, around the middle of the day.

My, how time flies. Any idea where we are? The water’s awfully warm.

We’re nowhere near a swamp this time. At least, it doesn’t appear we are. He shook his head. For a second there, I was terrified we’d end up as gator bait.

Same here.

He studied the distant shoreline. There were a few stunted bushes, but the landscape was rocky. The cabin’s gone. Further proof we’ve been thrown somewhere new.

Errant drops of water dribbled down his face. He swiped them away. On a hunch, he licked the moisture. Alkaline.

What?

"I taste alkaline in the water. Given its warmth, I’d say we’re in some