Free Waylaid by Kim Harrison

didn’t—”
    “Two.” Bill checked the safety.
    Holy shit, I think he’s going to shoot me , Peri thought, panicking.
    “Bill, don’t!” Jack said, paralyzed by the bed, covered in blood from his broken nose. “She’ll never forget you shooting her. Even if she drafts.”
    “You’re probably right,” Bill said, voice soft, and Peri exhaled. “Three.”
    The bang of the Glock firing shocked through Peri, and she jumped, hand going to her chest. But he hadn’t shot her. He’d shot Rachel.
    No , Peri thought, anger and fear flooding her.
    “Oh, that hurts,” Rachel said softly, then started to collapse.
    Peri lurched to catch her, somehow keeping the wineglass in her hand upright. The shot had been high, away from Rachel’s heart but nicking her lung. It was filling even as she sat there. Shock had paled Rachel’s face, making her lips red and her eyes eerily bright. No . . .
    “I can’t believe you did that,” Jack said, wiping the blood from himself.
    Bill shrugged. “I didn’t shoot you or her. I shot a mall fruitcake she’s known for three hours.” His smile at Peri was predatory, and the beginnings of hatred trickled through her, muddling years of trust. “Now. The question is, how important is she to you, Peri? Is saving her life worth your memory of her?”
    “You sons of bitches,” Peri whispered, Rachel’s weight going heavy in her arms. She was nearing her forty-five-second ceiling. If she was going to draft to save Rachel’s life, she would have to do it now.
    So she did.
    The light spilling from the side lamp flashed blue, filling the room with a smoky haze that flashed to a sparkling clarity. No longer did Rachel hang in her arms. The woman straddled Bill, shock stiffening her shoulders. “I’ll take your gun this time, too,” Rachel said as she plucked first the orb from Bill’s pocket, then the Glock from his holster.
    “You remember the first timeline?” Bill stammered, truly surprised, and Rachel beamed a big smile before slamming her elbow into his jaw.
    “Rachel,” Peri prodded as she snatched up the glass of white wine. “We have to go.”
    “Right.” She got up, kicking the large man in the ribs. “No one shoots me!” she shouted, kicking him again. “No one!”
    “Here!” Peri said, warning Jack to stay where he was even as Rachel tossed her the accelerator and Peri rolled it in the bloody sheets. They had to get out of here. Right now, Peri remembered both timelines, but when they meshed, she’d forget—and there was a lot she was going to miss. Damn you, Bill, she thought, never having dreamed he’d shoot Rachel.
    “She’s compromised, Jack,” Bill moaned as he rolled to his hands and knees. “Take her back four hours.”
    “We’ll lose everything she knows,” Jack said, not moving. “You sure?”
    “Four hours!” Bill bellowed. “I’d rather have Peri without doubt than know who that woman is.” His eyes rose, murderously intent as he found Peri’s. “And Peri has a doubt. Don’t you, kiddo.”
    A chill raced through Peri as she dropped the bloodied crystal into the wineglass and ran to the hall, Rachel tight behind . The shock of the pop, pop, pop of the gun as Rachel blew the lock shook her.
    Four hours? Peri thought, numb as she breathed in the spent gunpowder. Were her extended memory losses engineered? By Jack?
    “Time for plan B,” Rachel said, taking her arm and pulling her into a run. “Grab the fish and run like hell.” She took a breath and shouted, “Jenks! Forget the cat. We gotta go!”
    Confused, Peri followed, wine in hand and ducking when a drone whizzed overhead, Jenks’s voice shrilling in a high-pitched thrill trailing out as he rode the head-size copter. Carnac bounded down the hall after it, head up and tail crooked.
    “Wall!” Rachel shouted, but the drone was going too fast and it missed the turn, smashing into the wall with a small crunch. It hit the floor, and Peri gasped when the cat leapt for it.
    But