Chapter 1

Myka awoke in unfamiliar surroundings, a steady beeping coming from somewhere. She blinked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the sterile white of the room she found herself in. Her limbs still felt heavy, weighted down as though they were lead. She groaned softly as she tried to lift her head, her need to examine the room overpowering the pounding she felt behind her eyes.

She moved minutely, her head barely rising from the pillow, if at all, no longer weighted down the pillow rose with her. Myka fell back with a groan, the thudding had only increased with her exertion. Outside, a voice echoed down the halls, from an overhead page. She listened to the steady beeping, felt the needle in her arm, a cord crossing over her arm, the clean room, when realization struck her. Myka was in a hospital.

But how had she gotten there? What had happened? She couldn't remember, no that's not right, her brow furrowed in concentration, she'd chosen to come here, but not the hospital. So, just the last part of her trip, that's what she didn't remember. Another secret then.

She'd recalled landing hard, like a bag of cement, the ground even harder. It tickled, brushing and poking at her exposed skin, grass then. And above birds chirped, children screamed, their voices carried on the wind. She must be near a park. Exhaustion pulled her back under, someone must have found her, gotten her help.

"Ah, good, you're awake then," a voice spoke from the doorway, she struggled to open her eyes, trying to acknowledge that she'd heard them speak. But it was just too hard, her mind was still swimming, her body not cooperating.

"That'll be the medicine," the voice spoke again, female, soft and gentle, and... familiar. Myka forced her eyes open, forced her head to turn towards the sound, and took in the kind, brown eyes of Leena, always so expressive, a slight smile upon her face as she crossed the room, heading to adjust the IV.

The bag was almost empty, she quickly changed it out and strung up another before crossing to the computer at the wall, making notes. "How are you feeling?" she asked, barely taking her eyes off the screen before her.

Myka tried to respond, a rough sound escaped from her throat, tight and constricted, more a gasp than a grunt, but it was something. Leena smiled at her, a slight nod offered in acknowledgement as Myka's eyes drifted shut once again.


The doctors had come in to talk to her the next day, Myka recalled, it was still a fight to keep her eyes open, her mind focused, exhaustion tugging at the edges, she listened as they spoke, her mind echoing their words as they explained what had happened.

She'd been found unresponsive in a nearby park, the ambulance had brought her here (she still wasn't sure where 'here' was), they'd done tests, discovered she was having a heart attack. That had scared her, more than she'd thought possible considering how she'd been, well, apathetic at best since Yellowstone. The word tasted bitter on her tongue, dry and chalky, heavy with unspoken meaning.

But they'd continued on, talking without pause, barely focused on her as they recited their script. She was healthy now, their treatment had worked, and while they didn't know the cause, she wasn't in any further danger and would be discharged later that afternoon. An afterthought was added, she should probably call someone to come get her if at all possible.

Myka had tried not to panic at that, hoping she could find someone, wishing desperately to keep her face neutral.


She'd been in luck, her parents still ran the bookstore, and without any other place to go, she found herself once again working in the store. Her "different" life so far didn't seem to be so different. Really, aside from not having any contact with the Warehouse, and Leena not being at the B&B, there wasn't much else that was different. Bering and Sons was still Bering and Sons, her dad was still disappointed in her, her mother was still as distant as ever, and she was drifting aimlessly.

And she still couldn't manage to forget HG Wells. She felt haunted by the ghost of the Victorian author, the looks, her soft touches, fingers gliding over her skin, her flirtations. She could still see HG standing there in front of her, her cocky smile and shining eyes as her words registered in Myka's ears, causing a blush to spring forth.

Myka was pulled from her reveries as she heard the antique brass bell over the door jingle, signaling the arrival of a customer. She stood up from where she was crouched behind the counter, wiping her hands off on her pants legs as she stood, and made to greet the customer, repeating the script she offered to everyone, only to have her words die in her throat.

Before her was the now familiar, forever ingrained in her mind (and would have been even without her memory), form of HG Wells.

The Brit was casually dressed, a black leather jacket covering a wine red tank top, and dark blue jeans. Her black boots clicked on the wooden floor below, a hollow thunk with every step, as she entered the store fully.

A whisper escaped from between Myka's lips, "Helena," as emotion burst forth, eyes shining with the unresolved pain of their last encounter, brimming with tears, both happy and sad as she laid eyes upon her reason for being here, the cause of her journey.

The other woman paused in her steps, confusion settling over her features, "I'm sorry? Have we met?"

The words were silky, smoothly gliding from between pink lips, her voice unsure but she'd put on a false bravado, unwilling to be caught off guard. She resumed her approach towards the counter, coming to lean upon her, resting her elbows atop the scratched glass surface. It put her squarely in Myka's space, causing her nerves to double down as her mind searched for any plausible reason, any way to explain away her mistake. She'd cursed herself under her breath as she'd realized what she said, and panicked internally as she was heard.

"I'd like to think there's no way I could forget a beautiful face, but alas, I seem unable to recognize you, so I'm afraid you have me at quite the disadvantage," she spoke in low tones, confidence dripping from her words as she spoke, a mask, Myka was aware.

She'd learned it was how Helena maintained control of her situation, she'd flirt, catch them off guard, trick them into revealing too much, giving themselves away, and she was good at it. But she'd never met the force that was Myka, the only one who had bested her at her game (granted, it had taken time, and lots of it, but she'd eventually learned her tricks).

Myka leaned against the counter, mirroring Helena's position, a smirk playing upon her lips, "Lucky guess I suppose," her eyes alight, dancing with a passion she had never expected to feel again. "So, what can I help you with?"

She needed to bring their conversation back into safer territory, it was too close to touching on too much that had gone unspoken, too close to breaking the dam that she'd carefully built, she pulled away from the counter slightly.

The sudden change caught Helena off-guard, it had gone from feeling oddly intimate to nothing more than a business transaction, which, technically is all it was, all she had intended it to be when she walked into the store. The Brit cleared her throat, re-centering herself, "I was looking for a book, erm, obviously."

Myka smiled, "Well, you've come to the right place, we do have lots of books after all, is there a specific one you were wanting?"

"Yes, actually, there is. I'm looking for a book called The Nursery "Alice", specifically a copy of it with a note that reads "To my darling Christina, may your adventures be every bit as impossible as those within," her voice quivering, welling up with emotions she choked back as she spoke, a pause and then she continued on. "It has been in the family since its original publishing, but due to misfortune," she spat the word out, bitter upon her tongue, venom lacing the sound itself, "it was sold years ago and I would like to reacquire it if at all possible. I've been told your shop is the best at finding rare books." She added on the last, her piercing brown eyes dark and stormy, betraying the unspoken threat, a hint of desperation, and Myka knew the importance of finding this book, she'd known from the moment she heard the inscription.

"Don't worry, I'll find it," she spoke with determination, the fire from earlier had returned, blazing within emerald gems, "No matter how long it takes, I will find it."

She got Helena's information, and internally had to promise herself that she would not use it for anything more than work. As much as she would want to take a chance on starting a relationship of some sort with the other brunette, she couldn't convince herself that it would even work that way in this world. Helena may not even be single, let alone attracted to women. And with that, unable to find a reason to continue talking to the other woman, their conversation drew to a close, nothing more than a business transaction.