Free The Man from Forever by Vella Munn Page A

By the time he’d focused again, it seemed to her that he’d lost some of the anger that had nearly overwhelmed him. His hand dropped back by his side, briefly taking her attention to his knife—his ancient knife.
    Nothing of today’s world had touched him; that’s what she couldn’t deny.
    â€œI want to understand,” she whispered. “You don’t—maybe this means nothing to you, but I’m an anthropologist.” When he gave no indication that he had even heard the word, she shrugged, dismissing six years of college and another six years spent exploring and documenting extinct cultures. Loka wasn’t extinct; that was all that mattered. “I want—” She pressed a less-than-steady hand to her forehead. “You’re the key. Loka, you’re the key to the past.”
    â€œLet me go.” When he sucked in a deep breath, his chest expanded until there seemed to be no end to it. “That is what I want of you. The only thing I want. Let me return to my son.”
    â€œYour son?”
    His nostrils flared and she sensed he regretted telling her that. Fighting the cloud now swirling around her, she groped for him, touched her fingertips to his chest, pressed until his body’s warmth became hers. While in college, a field project had taken her onto the empty land east of the Four Corners area. Through binoculars she’d watched a doe giving birth. For those few minutes the rest of the world had ceased to exist, and she’d never forgotten that she’d been privy to one of nature’s wonders.
    Loka was a wonder.
    Although she’d already removed her hand from him, she had no idea how she could diminish the impact of that brief contact.
    â€œI don’t understand any of this. It’s impossible. Impossible. And yet—” She had to stop while the need to touch him again raged through her. “If you’re who you say you are— What’s locked inside you? What do you know of your people’s legacy? Their legends and stories? I…” A million fragmented thoughts continued to bombard her, but she couldn’t make sense of any of them. She might be looking history in the face, and yet this man was no dry history lesson. He’d watched her great-great-grandfather being killed and celebrated his death. He’d listened to Modoc children crying from hunger, must have felt despair and hate beyond anything shecould ever comprehend. “You—you say I had something to do with your being here? How can—”
    â€œSilence! You do not know how to accept. You throw out stupid questions while I face the truth. I am here. I do not want to be. You have done this to me.”
    â€œNo.” She shook her head until she felt dizzy. “I didn’t. I had nothing—”
    â€œYou carry his blood!”
    As if that was all the explanation needed, he whirled away from her and stalked to a slight rise before turning around. “You are my enemy.”
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    Tory had no idea how long she’d been driving, but if her gas gauge was any indication, she must have been behind the wheel for hours. Relying on instinct, she pulled into the parking area closest to the path leading to her cabin and cut the motor. Although there were a number of people about, she was aware of little except for a succession of dust devils being kicked up by an erratic and playful breeze. The hot afternoon made her feel lethargic, but she didn’t dare stretch out on a bed because if she fell asleep, the questions she’d been battling might overwhelm her.
    Loka.
    A man who couldn’t be and yet was. Who had become an integral part of her.
    Feeling both vulnerable and charged with energy, she slipped out of the car. Thanks to the land’s natural dips and curves, she couldn’t see the park headquarters or campground. Yes, she shared the parking lot with a number of other vehicles, but it was all too easy to