One Last Chance: Double-Check Your Destination

By Audrey Kaye

Minutes before my grandfather's murder, I promised him I would retrieve the book that hid his revolutionary cyborg code. Double-crossing agents and so-called colleagues can fight me all they want. Nothing—not even traveling back and forth through time—will stop me from preventing a cyborg war no human can survive.

But I never imagined one of the infamous Raven brothers would interfere with my plans. Since he's crossed my path, bad luck follows me everywhere.

When I'm not escaping his clutches, I'm racing against time chasing down that book. And when I'm not resisting his bad-boy charm… Well, there's no time for falling in love when I have to save the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Audrey Kaye
• Release date: Jan 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223853121

Book preview

Chapter One

Bang. Bang. Bang!

I winced, dismissing the violent knocks on the door as I slammed another drawer shut.

Three desks, five filing cabinets, and one bookcase. I had to rifle through all of it before the guards busted the office door open. Grandpa’s slim Moleskin notebook had to be here somewhere. He was old-fashioned like that, a bio-engineer genius with a knack for hand-writing notes of importance.

Like the Mercy code, the clues and necessary steps I suspected would explain how to manufacture an undefeatable cyborg.

Open the door!

I jogged to the tallest filing cabinet, raising a middle finger to the locked door. Locked for now. That panel of metal would hold for probably three more minutes and not a second more.

Dr. Vianski could whine and threaten me out in that hallway all he wanted.

How dare I break into my grandpa’s office—turf that this bastard now claimed as his own. He hadn’t waited for Grandpa’s blood to cool before he’d taken ownership of my grandpa’s labs and office. Most importantly, all of Grandpa’s research and notes.

He knew.

My grandpa knew. Somehow, my grandpa, my only relative, the brilliant Dr. Angus McGinn, had known Vianski would want his top-secret research. Because why else would he have lifted his shaky, blood-soaked hand to grip mine? Then plead with me, his choked dying wish, that I retrieve his codebook and destroy it?

He’d known his once-trusted friend and colleague would kill him for his work.

Faster and faster, my fingers trembling from the rush of adrenaline, I flipped through folders and files. I tapped in his PIN to unlock more drawers, and I pressed my thumbprint to the additional locks for other hidden compartments. There was a time I’d amused myself, thinking Grandpa was so eccentric with his penchant for paranoia. For his supreme care to safeguard documents.

Now, I understood it. Why wouldn’t he be cautious when dealing with codes that could make or break the world?

Fiona! Vianski screamed as he pounded on the door again. Bang. Bang. Bang! "Fi— Ow."

Aw. Hurt your little hand there? I muttered in the dark, shuffling to my left to check the next case.

I know you’re in there, Fiona! His growled groan was music to my ears. Faster, he demanded of the guards. "Faster! Can’t you do anything? I cannot have a trespasser in Dr. McGinn’s—my office. Get me in there, now."

We’ll cut through, Doctor, a guard said. A grinder wheel squealed to life, and the buzzing of metal on metal sounded.

You won’t get away with this, Fiona, he shouted.

He wouldn’t see, much less like it, but I shrugged, mocking an expression of fear. His bullying didn’t bother me. The fake bomb I’d strapped to the doorknob panel was a funky contraption I found in my former roommate’s room, a decoy sure to fool the guards for a while, despite their attempts to cut through the thick, five-ply door constructed of metal alloys. Cutting their way in was a feat that would take at least a half hour.

Their voices carried quieter than Vianski’s screeches, but I’d heard two or three security guards standing out there, debating which wire to cut without blowing themselves to pieces.

And if my estimations proved wrong and they got in...

Then I’ll just have to try again.

I slipped my hand into the left pocket of my jacket. My fingers met the slender metal in the shape of a rod. A few dents and scratches lined the device, but the jumper I’d stolen still worked. I only had one marce left—one vial of antimatter that enabled me to jump through time—but it was all I needed.

If I couldn’t find Grandpa’s notebook before those idiots in the hallway broke in here, I’d have my escape. Only to come back again and try once more.

It didn’t matter if I had to repeat this task infinitely, I’d never give up.

Fiona! Just open the door! Vianski pounded his fist on the door again, the knocks firm but lighter, perhaps so he wouldn’t injure his delicate hands. "This is trespassing. Breaking and entering into my office to—"

"His office, you asshole! I couldn’t help but shout back as I crouched to rush through the contents of the last cabinet. This is my grandpa’s office. Not yours!"

He’s not here anymore, Vianski retorted. No sorrow, no sympathy. Just the petulant tantrum tone of a bully. "It’s mine now. And you’re tres—"

His work will never be yours. My heart raced faster as I raised my voice even louder, bold enough to be heard over the alarms blaring, the guards knocking, and the grinder whirring to slice open a new hole in the door.

Cut the crap, Fiona. He was too old and soft. He never would have been able to handle the negotiations of the Mercy code.

"It was his code! It was his to do with as he wished." And he’d never intended to negotiate it or sell it at all.

A single slam of a fist smacked on the door. And what was it that your grandfather wanted? To hide it? Never use it? Vianski’s sole bark of an ugly laugh pissed me off more. "That would have been a waste. He was a waste. The Mercy code wasn’t meant to be locked away without use."

The Mercy code wouldn’t have existed without him. I fisted my hands, stepping back to frantically survey the dark room. Files lay scattered on desks, folders were left flopped open, and drawers hung slid out at uneven reaches. I’d left Grandpa’s once-scholarly lair a mess, but it didn’t matter.

Dammit!

Grandpa’s Mercy code was still at large. I couldn’t find the notebook.

Not this time, at least.

Where did you hide it? Biting on my lip, I warded off the mounting frustration, the agony of repeatedly trying and failing. The urgency bit at me, reminding me to get out of here now to live another day and try again.

Each time I got my hands on a marce, I’d jump back to this ill-fated day to search for the damn notebook.

March 23rd, 2054, 3:06 PM, timed at two minutes after Grandpa was shot while giving a speech. This was the fourth time I’d jumped back in time to see to his deathbed wish. Not to save him, not to prevent the shots aimed at him, but to destroy the Mercy code before Vianski could ruin the world.

Fiona! Open the door! Vianski’s orders left pleading territory. He was demanding entrance. He could come in here all he wanted. I’d be gone.

Dammit! I removed the short rod from my pocket and thumbed the button. Both ends elongated, doubling the tool to a foot long. I didn’t bother watching the jumper prepare for action. While I’d only used it four times, and as new as the technology was to an amateur like me, I was a quick learner.

I’d already set the jumper to take me back in time one week, the dials reading accordingly. The domed cap slid open, and once I removed a pill-sized marce vial from an inner shaft compartment, I slipped it into the bluish void space at the top. Armed, so to speak, I raised my gaze to the door. Half of a grinder wheel made purchase through the door, but they weren’t busting in any time soon. When they did, they’d find Grandpa’s office empty. Messy, but without my presence.

Glancing down, I checked that the bluish yet clear dome cap was closed on the device in my hand. I heaved in a deep breath, readying myself for the gut-wrenching and nerve-twisting sensation of jumping through time.

Get back from the door.

Huh. That was a different voice. Female. And so much more threatening and chilling than Vianski’s. A newcomer had arrived, one I wasn’t hanging around to meet.

Now. Her voice was closer, and I realized belatedly that I could gauge the distance of her voice—her proximity of nearing the door from the other side—because the grinder wheel had ceased. No more whirring, no more flashy show of sparks arcing from cutting through metal.

Before I could wonder at this change, at this woman who succeeded in overriding Vianski’s command to security, a boom thundered through the space.

What the—

Stumbling back from the force, I fought to stay on my feet. The tiled floor shuddered from the impact, and my ears rang. But this wasn’t on me. I looked down, knowing without having to see the jumper that I hadn’t activated it. Jumping into another time wasn’t a gentle ride. A sonic pressure suctioned a field of energy around you, and it had a nauseating effect. But it wouldn’t cause this booming explosion.

Light heralded the source. The door was gone. It was truly blasted away, skidding deep gouges into the checkered floor. Grandpa’s office wasn’t a haphazard mess courtesy of my desperate search. It was now ruined, the door damaged to smithereens, one remaining smoky, charred chunk of metal layers melting together.

I held my breath, not wanting to inhale the smoke. Hunched down, I remained hiding behind one of the desks.

Through the smoke of the blast, the LED hall lights too garish, I made out the shapes of people. Guards hunkered against the opposite wall, arms out and barricading each other in fear. A woman strode forward, her companion a solid, hulking man who hoisted what looked like a massive torpedo launcher. Coughing and sputtering, the wiry, gaunt frame of Vianski entered, rushing after the woman and her expressionless lackey.

Who— What— No. Stop. This is my— Vianski uttered the choppy commands as he hacked at the smoke. "Fiona? Stop, everyone. This is my office, dammit—"

The woman sighed, waving her hand to clear the smoke. Remove him. She coupled the stern, simple instruction with a tilt of her head. Sleek black strands of her hair shifted in a curtain effect as she straightened her head, her eyes squinted as she scanned the room.

Remove?

I didn’t dare budge an inch. Still holding my breath, I remained frozen. My pulse quickened even more, such a rush of stress and adrenaline nearly dizzying me on the spot.

Another muscled brute stepped around the tall woman. His gaze was vacant as he approached Vianski. Shouting incoherent orders to stay back, Vianski raised his hands and shook his head. But his protests were no match for the man’s swift steps, nor his instant reach out that held the bioengineer in a tight grip before he snapped his neck.

My jaw dropped, and my breath was punched from me in a gasp.

The woman tilted her head the other way, her gaze zeroing in my direction. Shit. She’d heard me. Whoever the hell she was, she wasn’t here as a friend. Or was she? She did just kill Vianski, and he was my enemy. Was the enemy of my enemy my friend?

Hmmm.

No. This woman was no friend of mine. I didn’t trust that sound. Too calculating, too sinister.

I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m out of here. With trembling fingers, I lifted the jumper, aiming the loaded dome toward my stomach.

Don’t move, she warned. As she spoke, she flicked on a holographic scanner from her wrist at the same time she unerringly kicked a stool in my direction.

I had to dive and give up my hiding spot or be hit. I compromised, twisting instead to take the brunt of the impact in my shoulder. With the strike of the metal stool, though, my thumb slipped from the jumper’s button.

Dammit! But I was still in hiding. Still alive.

Fiona McGinn. Interesting... the woman announced as she calmly strode into the room. Not an agent or a recruit. Aha. Angus McGinn’s granddaughter. A relative. Even better.

Better for who? Her? Just who the hell was this freak?

I peered around the desk, watching her pace as she read the projected screen. A health scanner, but more. My profile rose in red light, the details of my image undefined and unfinished with the smoke filling the room. Listed next to me were lines of stats. My vitals? As I narrowed my eyes to see better, I saw my pulse raising in real-time. What the hell kind of health scanner did she have?

Pivoting on her booted heel, she directly faced me. It wasn’t only a scanner, but a bio-locator? There was no other way she could ping me. Her thin brow arched above one eye, the other flat over a gray eyepatch.

This was no time to marvel at the technology in her hand. It was no time to linger either.

"I’ll bet you have an idea where the Mercy code is. She jerked her head toward the first muscled brute. Get her. We’ll question her back at—"

Light blasted in a zinging path from the open door. Immediately, she snarled, dropping into a roll toward me with her hand out. Firing her own shots, she added purple streams of whistling-fast light back at the door.

You, she seethed. "Another Raven."

Scrambling for safety, I dropped to the cracked floor as a firework of lights erupted. Purple, then blue. Bright-white, back to purple. Grunts and growls accompanied the light show, but I didn’t look up. I couldn’t. My focus was on the floor, seeking out the jumper I’d dropped as the violence exploded.

Get her! the woman ordered among the blasts and shots of light.

As soon as she spoke, a streak of purple warped just before my face, blinding me momentarily and certainly stunning me stupid. I was too slow to flinch back, and heat seared my shoulder, the same one I’d taken the flung chair on.

I fell back, clapping my hand on the burning wound and rolling onto my side.

You! Come here! a man ordered over the woman.

Clenching my teeth to stem the scream in my throat, I tried to concentrate past the pain. She wanted to capture me for an interrogation. He wanted me to come crawling over?

Me?

The hell with this. I wasn’t going with either of them.

Lying on the other side of the desk now, I blinked to clear my sight. The jumper! It had rolled against a tipped-over cabinet. I reached my arm out to grip it, but I wasn’t made of elastic.

A strong hand clamped on my arm, right below my blaster wound. Not so fast! he yelled.

Slimmer fingers tightened around my ankle. She’s mine, the woman shouted.

One of the brutes ran up, his form like a giant from my perspective on the floor. Each boot step rumbled the floor. His arms, one flesh, the other bare metal, pumped in the air.

Wait. Metal? A cyborg? But...but...Grandpa only announced the manufacturing of cyborgs yesterday!

Like a yo-yo, I was pulled. The man wrenched me one way with his grip on my injured arm. The woman tugged me in the opposite direction with her clutch on my ankle. All while the cyborg rushed up, his launcher aimed above my head.

Just get out of here!

Give it up, Raven, the woman yelled, her nails digging into my flesh. She’s. Coming. With. Me!

Fuck that. I flipped, rolling in the direction of the man. As I shifted, I circled my other foot up to kick at her head. She screeched, losing her hold on my leg. Following through the momentum of my maneuver, I closed the distance between my outstretched hand and the jumper.

There!

I gripped the slim device, rotated my wrist, and blasted myself out of here to another time.

Chapter Two

Every vertebra of my spine cracked with tingling pinches. I slammed onto the ground like I’d plummeted from a cliffside. My breath shot from my lips, and my head swam with vertigo. The landing from this jump through time left me momentarily immobile like a rag doll, weak and battered.

My fingers clenched so tight around the jumper, the slim rod would have to be pried from my hands. Yet, as I blinked my eyes open, my back sprawled out flat, too many stimuli stunned me.

Ow...what the hell? I’d started my mumble in a slow groan, but it turned into a drawl, then a question.

Bright blue skies spanned so vast and wide, I figured I’d died instead of jumping through time. I’d never witnessed such openness. No smog, no buildings, no gray concrete or steel structures. Pure, unadulterated, raw sunshine streaming through a perfectly blue atmosphere. The air was so clean it almost hurt my nose.

My awe was short-lived. In the next second, I registered the soft earth I’d fallen on, tall grasses blocking my peripheral view as the blades gently whipped in the fresh breeze. Nature. Was that what this was?

Where...

Blinking faster, I tried to sit up. No more light-gun pain in my arm, no more scratches from talon-like nails on my leg. I couldn’t feel the bruising hit of the stool against my shoulder either. I only felt the nausea and a lightheaded wooziness I knew to expect from using a jumper.

The ringing in my ears faded with each bass beat of my pulse through my head. Did the suctioning pressure of the jump damage the ears? Because I could have sworn I heard...

I shook my head lightly, giving up on the effort to sit and instead rolled over to rise on my hands and knees. Who knows. Maybe I’d puke again, as I had on my first jump.

Shifting, I second-guessed myself, doubting my sanity because I could have sworn I heard something really odd.

Where am I?

Jumping through time changed only that—time. Every other time I’d jumped, I’d wound up in the exact same location, just at a different time. This grassy plain was not the modern lab facility where Grandpa’s office was in 2054.

I gingerly lifted my head, on all fours now. Only to come face to face with a man doing the same. As soon as we raised ourselves to make eye contact among the scratchy tall weeds, his jaw dropped. Dark-blue eyes widened, and his brow furrowed. "You mean when!"

After his shout, he reached forward to push me down beneath him.

What the hell? I shoved at him. I’d left one struggle and had fallen right into another? No more manhandling from strangers! As I resisted, though, my hearing cleared even more.

Shouts. Drums. Chants? I recognized the sounds of screams—human terror. Oh, my God, where was I?

What the hell are you trying to do? the man asked as he tensed, still half-lying over me in the grass, despite my best efforts to throw him off.

His voice. I knew him—at least I knew that growly tone. This was the guy at Grandpa’s office. I recalled it now. Deep, raspy. Not sexy. Nope. No way in hell was it going to affect me, but damn, his voice held the commanding tone of authority. He’d shown up with a light gun, shot