looked pale in the bright sunlight that flooded his bedroom in the year 2008.
He blinked in amazement and looked out the windows. It'd been the middle of the night in Hope's world. They seemed to have picked up several hours on their trip forward in time. He'd be damned if he understood the details of how that mirror worked.
And he never would now.
"Are you all right?" he asked as he approached Hope and sank down to his knees next to her.
"I'm fine. Are you well?" She reached up and lightly ran her fingertips over his brow, pushing back his hair. He saw her looking worriedly at the cut on his brow and wondered if it had started bleeding again.
"I'm okay. Hope ... the mirror in your bedroom. Mario's bullet hit it. It shattered."
She froze in the process of caressing his cheek. "I heard it breaking. But I thought... I thought since you made it through ..."
Her voice trailed off when she took in his expression.
"There was one large piece at the bottom that began to fall out of the frame. I dove through it before it struck the floor. I don't think much of it remains in your time. I'm sorry, Hope."
She looked every bit as shattered as the mirror. "I can't go back?"
He tried to pull her into his arms but she resisted him. She twisted around and stared at the room, her mouth agape with shock. He felt a fine tremor begin to vibrate her flesh and knew the reality of her situation had just been slammed home to her.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "I'm really in your world, aren't I? It's the year 2008?"
"Yes."
Her eyes glistened when she looked up at him.
"They're all dead, including my father. Everyone I ever knew or loved—ashes."
***
Ryan thought it was best to focus on one thing at a time. He'd never once considered Hope frail, but that's the word that came to him as she sat there on the bedroom floor. Her typical, almost tangible vibrancy seemed to drain out of her before his very eyes. He spread his hand along the side of her face, cradling her jaw.
"Hope, listen to me," he said, garnering her attention. She blinked and focused on him listlessly. "I think it would be very dangerous for either of us to try and travel through the mirror after what happened. Your father wouldn't thank you for gambling your life so foolishly, I'm sure. But I want you to know I'm not going to give up on trying to figure out how and why it enabled us to travel through time. This isn't the end of it. Do you understand?"
"You think there's still a chance?"
"I think there are a lot of things about that mirror I don't understand. I'd be a fool to start claiming I have all the answers at this point in time. That doesn't mean we'll always be ignorant. . . or that things are hopeless." He gave her a pointed stare before he stood.
"We're not going to solve anything at this moment. The only thing on your agenda at the moment is a bath and bed. Come on," he said as he reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet.
"But it looks like it's full morning here," Hope mumbled dazedly as she followed him.
"And you've been up all night, hit over the head, kidnapped, witnessed a murder and been shot at, not to mention been made love to .. . rigorously."
He turned in time to see her lower her eyelids. Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink.
He dropped a kiss on her mouth and spoke next to her parted lips.
"We are in the bedroom, witch."
He took his first full breath of air in several minutes when he saw Hope's lips curve into a weary smile.
NINETEEN
Hope had so many questions to ask Ryan about the house—why it seemed so empty, for instance. Didn't he have any family? Why were the servants so glaringly absent?
Other questions were more mundane, but made her burn wit