Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Titles By Dianne Duvall

  Author’s Note For Immortal Guardians Fans

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Bonus Scene

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Other Books by Dianne Duvall

  Rendezvous with Yesterday

  Modern-day bounty hunter Bethany Bennett helps her brother track two fugitives to a forest outside of Houston, Texas. But what should have been a routine apprehension of two bail skippers spirals out of control and ends in violence. After Beth and her brother are both seriously injured, a mysterious figure suddenly looms over her. And, when the smoke clears, Beth finds herself not only in another place, but in another time.

  As Lord Robert, Earl of Fosterly, attempts to identify and track down the nameless enemy who has been plaguing his lands and people with violence, the most peculiar woman stumbles into his path. Small, vulnerable, yet possessed of a bold, fiery spirit and wicked sense of humor, she persists in dubbing Robert and his men members of something called a medieval reenactment group . . . until she sees his castle and labels herself mad. It seems bounty hunter Bethany Bennett has come to him from the future, bringing with her laughter and chaos, swiftly winning the hearts of his people and inspiring within him a love he thought he would never experience again. But when Robert discovers a way for her to return to her time, will the love they share be enough to keep them together?

  Titles By Dianne Duvall

  The Gifted Ones

  A SORCERESS OF HIS OWN

  RENDEZVOUS WITH YESTERDAY

  Immortal Guardians

  DARKNESS DAWNS

  NIGHT REIGNS

  PHANTOM SHADOWS

  IN STILL DARKNESS

  DARKNESS RISES

  NIGHT UNBOUND

  PHANTOM EMBRACE

  SHADOWS STRIKE

  Anthologies

  PREDATORY

  (includes In Still Darkness)

  ON THE HUNT

  (includes Phantom Embrace)

  Rendezvous With Yesterday

  Copyright © 2007 by Leslie Duvall

  First Edition: October 2016

  Published by Dianne Duvall, 2016

  www.DianneDuvall.com

  Editor: Jena O’Conner

  Cover Art by: Syneca Featherstone

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dianne Duvall

  Author’s Note For Immortal Guardians Fans

  Dear Reader,

  Robert and Bethany’s tale has been referenced several times in my Immortal Guardians books, so I wanted to mention that—although I’ve labeled Beth’s time as “Present Day”—Rendezvous with Yesterday actually takes place before Darkness Dawns, Immortal Guardians Book 1. I chose to use “Present Day” instead of assigning her time a specific year simply to avoid dating the book since some Rendezvous with Yesterday readers have not read my Immortal Guardians series.

  I hope you’ll enjoy seeing the full story unfold.

  —Dianne Duvall

  Chapter One

  Houston, Texas—Present Day

  Bethany Bennett flipped through the CDs piled at her feet. “Seriously, Josh, we need to scrape together enough money to put a new stereo in this piece of crap.”

  Without taking his gaze from the highway, her brother laughed. “What’s wrong? Can’t find anything you want to listen to?”

  “No.” Most of the CDs had belonged to their parents and featured music from the seventies and eighties. Beth was in more of a Disturbed kind of mood, but couldn’t play her MP3s on the car’s outdated system.

  Josh reached down and retrieved another stack of CDs from beneath the driver’s seat. “How about some Hendrix?”

  Her mood lightened. “Okay.” As she slipped a CD into the player, the air conditioner began to screech again.

  She grimaced. Even with the AC on full blast, dragging wisps of hair from her long brown braid and tickling her bangs, the heat stifled Beth, raising beads of moisture on her skin and making breathing difficult.

  Of course, the bulletproof vest she wore didn’t help. Though the Type II wasn’t as bulky as the higher classification vests Josh had tried to talk her into getting, she still found it uncomfortable. The white tank top beneath it clung damply to full breasts mashed flat. Her snug blue jeans made her wish she could have worn breezy shorts. And her feet, encased in heavy boots, felt as though they roasted in a barbecue pit.

  She shifted uncomfortably. The shoulder holster encasing the Glock 9mm beneath her left arm pinched a bit as she adjusted the holster on her left hip that carried the Ruger 9mm.

  She glanced at Josh to see if he was equally uncomfortable and smiled.

  His short, wavy brown hair gleamed in the sunlight as he bobbed his head to the music. Pretty much every female friend Beth had had since middle school had deemed him hot and driven her crazy, drooling over him. Today his strong jaw bore dark stubble that lent him a rugged look. And his trim, athletic body was clad in blue jeans, a black T-shirt and his own Type II bulletproof vest.

  Once they left the city behind them, Josh orchestrated a series of turns that landed them on a barely discernible dirt road.

  When that road abruptly ended in a dense forest, he slowed the car to a stop and cut the engine. “Are you ready?”

  Heart pounding, she nodded. “I’m ready.”

  He studied her carefully as he removed his sunglasses. “You look nervous.”

  “Maybe a little,” she admitted.

  He swore. “I wish Grant could’ve come instead.”

  “Grant is in San Antonio, so you’re stuck with me,” Beth countered. “Besides, you said this was a long, long shot.”

  “Long, long shot or not, I don’t want you here if there’s even the slightest chance we may run into Kingsley or Vergoma.”

  Both Kingsley and Vergoma faced murder charges and had jumped bail. Rumors of violence against women swirled around the duo as well, but such charges had yet to be brought against them.

  Josh had done his damnedest to limit Beth’s role in the family bounty hunting business to skip tracing—ferreting out information on the Internet and over the phone that could lead to the criminals’ capture. Beth was particularly skilled at such.
But with their partner Grant gone, Josh had had no choice but to extend her participation in his search for Kingsley and Vergoma and let her back him up on this jaunt.

  After much digging, Beth had uncovered the name of a little-known ex-girlfriend of Kingsley’s. A very bitter and vindictive ex, she had learned when she had tracked down the woman’s phone number and contacted her. It had taken surprisingly little effort to weasel out the location of an old hunting shack Kingsley had used when they were together. That woman really wanted Kingsley to go down.

  Though authorities believed the two men had either headed to San Antonio to seek shelter with known associates or fled to Mexico, Josh had thought the tip worth pursuing. Bail jumpers almost always returned to their comfort zones. And—according to Kingsley’s ex—this hunting shack was his hidden comfort zone.

  Beth raised one eyebrow. “Are we going to do this or what?”

  Muttering beneath his breath, Josh exited the car and stuffed the keys into his back pocket.

  She opted not to grumble over him not wanting her to accompany him. She knew he didn’t mean it in a you’re-a-puny-girl-and-shouldn’t-be-running-with-the-big-boys kind of way. He just loved her and wanted to protect her. They had lost both of their parents by the time Beth turned eighteen and Josh twenty-four, so the two of them were all each other had.

  As she opened the passenger door and got out, Beth’s triumphant smile transmogrified into a grimace. No longer held at bay by the struggling air conditioner, heat and humidity assaulted her, sparking instant misery.

  She opened the back door as Josh circled to the trunk. Kingsley and Vergoma’s case files lay on the back seat, along with a stun gun, pepper spray, two pairs of handcuffs, leg irons, and a couple of navy blue jackets with BAIL ENFORCEMENT emblazoned on the back in bright yellow letters.

  Beth reluctantly donned the smaller jacket, more to thwart West Nile-carrying mosquitoes than to identify herself as a bounty hunter and prevent any confusion if law enforcement should arrive on the scene.

  Law enforcement wouldn’t arrive on this scene. They didn’t even know this place existed.

  She pulled out the backpack.

  Josh halted when he saw it. “What’s that?”

  “Marc made me promise to bring it.”

  “What the hell for? What’s in it?”

  “Water, first aid stuff, my cell phone, extra ammo…” She tucked her arms through the loops and hoisted it onto her back. “Marc packed most of it. He said it’s best to be prepared for anything.” Marc was their next-door neighbor and closest friend.

  “You are not bringing that,” Josh informed her. “Take it off.”

  “No. I told him I’d wear it.”

  “You only agreed to bring it because you’re attracted to him.”

  Guilty heat stole into her cheeks. “I am not.”

  “Yes, you are. You know damn well if he weren’t seeing someone else, you would have jumped him by now.”

  She sure as hell would have. Marc was hot. “What woman wouldn’t? He’s freaking gorgeous.” Over six feet tall with a tight, muscled body. Black hair that fell several inches below broad shoulders. A neatly trimmed mustache and beard she had fantasized about abrading her skin. A chiseled jaw. Soulful eyes so dark brown they almost matched his hair.

  Yeah. She would’ve totally jumped him if he weren’t taken.

  “Besides, Marc isn’t a bounty hunter,” Josh pointed out.

  “No, but we’ve both suspected for some time now that he works for the CIA or FBI or one of those other agencies that has something to do with national security.” Marc claimed he worked in the private security business, but… “All those weird hours he keeps. The monochromatic wardrobe.”

  “Dude always wears black,” Josh muttered.

  “The cloak-and-dagger secrecy crap, and the wounds we’ve seen him come home with late at night. It’s like living next door to a freaking agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

  Josh shook his head as he pulled his jacket on over the shoulder holster that encased his Glock 9mm. “The pack stays, Beth.” He thrust the handcuffs in one pocket, the pepper spray in the other, and clipped the stun gun to his belt. “It’ll only slow you down. Especially in this heat.”

  The heat index was supposed to reach a hundred and ten today. Typical Houston summer.

  Beth raised her chin as she looped the strap of their pistol-grip shotgun over one shoulder. “The pack goes.”

  Almost against his will it seemed, Josh smiled. “You think you have enough weapons there, sport?”

  She glanced down. With two 9mms, the shotgun, and the tiny .22 Josh didn’t even know she had tucked in one boot, she supposed she did.

  Beth sent him a teasing grin. “I don’t know. I think I could use a few more.”

  Shaking his head, he popped the trunk and reached inside. “You know how rarely bounty hunters have to draw weapons.”

  “When they aren’t butching it up on TV,” she added.

  “Exactly. In all this time, I’ve only drawn mine once. And I’ve only had to use the stun gun twice.”

  She shrugged. “Marc said there was something about these guys that made him nervous. I trust his instincts.” And her own. Despite the bravado she attempted to convey, she kept feeling like something was going to go very, very wrong.

  “Just keep in mind that legally we’re only allowed to use lethal force if our own lives are threatened.” He held out a sheathed hunting knife. “Here. Take this.”

  Beth took it and stared down at it, uncomprehending. “What do you want me to do with it?” Hadn’t he just razzed her about having too many weapons?

  He closed the trunk. “Strap it to your other thigh.”

  “Ooookay.” She did, wondering what possible purpose the knife would serve.

  “There’s a compass in the handle,” Josh reminded her.

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Keep an eye on it. If we become separated or if something foul goes down, I want you to use it to find your way back to the car and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  Beth nodded, knowing she would never leave Josh behind but seeing no point in arguing.

  “Okay, let’s get going. Keep your steps quiet. And the moment you feel that pack slowing you down, drop the damned thing.”

  Keeping her steps quiet proved to be impossible. Texas still suffered from a severe drought, so the ground beneath their feet bore no grass. Dried and cracked, the heavy clay soil felt as hard as concrete beneath her boots. A thick layer of crisp brown leaves coated it, having fled the parched and dying trees above them. Weeds and saplings struggled to survive, their limbs snapping at the slightest touch.

  Beth kept her face impassive, though inwardly she grimaced.

  Oppressive heat pressed down on her like a pair of hands on her shoulders, weighting every step. Within minutes, sweat saturated her clothing and dampened her hair. Josh’s, too. The plethora of leaves that crunched beneath their boots left gaping holes in the canopy above, allowing the sun to bombard them at will. And not even the hint of a breeze stirred the few leaves that still clung to brittle branches.

  Though Beth worked hard to stay in shape, exercising and lifting weights six days a week just couldn’t combat the effects of the weather. With every step, her backpack felt heavier. Her mouth grew drier. Several times she had to reach back and adjust the shotgun strap to keep it from sliding off when her shoulders slumped with weariness. No complaint crossed her lips, however, as she used the compass to monitor their location.

  It felt as though they trekked through the trees for half an hour or more before Josh stopped and held up one hand. Beth halted, then moved forward as quietly as possible until they stood shoulder to shoulder.

  Josh dipped his head and whispered in her ear, “The hunting shack should be just through t
hose trees over there, maybe a quarter of a mile ahead. I want you to stay here while I go check it out.”

  “No way,” she hissed back. “I’m going with you.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to try to apprehend them by myself, Beth. I just want to see whether or not Kingsley and Vergoma are there. If they are and it’s just the two of them, I’ll do a little recon, determine the best approach to make, then come back here and we’ll go in and apprehend them together.”

  “And if they’re not alone?”

  “We’ll have to see if Marc would be willing to come out and back us up since Grant isn’t in town.”

  Beth wanted to protest further. But Josh crept forward before she could, amazingly light on his feet considering his height and heavy muscles.

  Swearing silently as he disappeared through the brush, she eased the backpack off her shoulders and set it on the ground at her feet.

  Minutes crawled by as her heart tapped out a nervous rhythm in her chest. Beth curled her right hand around the grip of her Glock, drawing it from the shoulder holster. She strained to hear any sounds beyond the buzzing of mosquitoes, twittering of birds and chatter of squirrels.

  Swatting a mosquito, she mentally castigated Josh for leaving her behind like this to worry instead of—

  Gunshots split the air.

  Starting violently, she froze, eyes widening, heart racing. Josh!

  Several interminable seconds passed before Beth could force her leaden feet to move. Adrenaline surging through her veins, she raced forward in the direction Josh had taken, terrified of what she might find.

  Josh. Josh. Josh.

  A gnarled tree root reached up and tripped her. But she managed to stay on her feet as she stumbled unexpectedly into a small clearing.

  Josh stood several yards away, up and to her right, his back to a tree, Glock in hand.

  Beyond him stood a ramshackle cabin barely bigger than a garden shed.