Tomorrow's End - Part 1

It was all wrong Carlos knew this in his gut. She didn't feel the same way, never really had. A man his age should have known better, should have taken to heart that the non-fraternization policy was in place for good reason. Although hurt, frustrated, he didn't fault her. She'd come to this time, a stranger in a strange, backwards environment, having to cope the best she could. All the while trying to keep everybody happy. When was it her turn to be happy again? What mattered most to Kiera was her kid, as it should be. She was Sam's mother and the boy, if he still lived, needed his mom. It was criminal for her son to be without his mother. A deep sense of loss, amalgamated with sadness, squeezed Carlos' heart. Whether Kiera could get back, or was doomed to live the rest of her days here, time would tell. He couldn't see himself abandoning her because, and it wasn't as bad as it might have sounded, she'd used him to get what she needed.

She'd also saved him from himself time and time again.

Her means to an end didn't make him want to spit in her face, walk away as though he'd never known her. She was, and always would be, his partner. If she still wanted him by her side, that was where he'd be. Kiera had had a job to do with the hand she'd been dealt. Working with her so closely, Carlos had fallen for her, hard. Had she asked him to? Of course not, that had been his own foolish idea. He felt like the biggest fool now, once imagining the rose-colored future they could have together.

How many times had he told himself: How do you figure you're future-woman's type? Get over her.

Easier said than done. Even when she'd been with Kellog, and then Brad, he'd told himself she was going through some seriously confusing times, which she had been since day one. Helping her as best he could had been his way of saying we're in this together even though most of the time he'd had no idea what she was truly up against, and with whom. In the process, her determination, grit, fearlessness and moxie stole his heart.

In his own defense, justification abounded as to why he'd fallen as hard as he had. He'd had himself convinced that he would be settling for a drab, colorless life if Kiera wasn't in his.

Was there a way back from the nosedive he'd taken, loving her?

She'd promised they would make the travel into the future together. As things stood, not she, not he, definitely, would be making that trip. Alex was hopeful, but then, he often was, nothing new for him. The time-travel ball was still intact. Carlos was almost certain, not one hundred percent, that Kiera hadn't mentioned to the genius about having company for the journey. Carlos hoped Alec didn't know. He couldn't have the kid think he had lost his mind, thinking with another part of his body, like some hormonal romantic. Carlos believed Kiera when she'd said she wanted him to come with her that night on his couch, but in the hard light of today, with the body count staggering, that commitment rang hollow now. His flighty romantic notions died, blasted to smithereens, in the blown-out shell of VPD headquarters. Nora would have his guts for garters once the investigation was underway.

What had happened was unthinkable—and Brad had won! Kellog had escaped. Travis, dead, having given up his life to save Carlos'. Some things in all this hodgepodge were too impossible to accept.

Reeling, Carlos continued taking stock as he peered into Kiera's face that bore the sum total of this cataclysmic day. He loved her more than she loved him, more than she ever could. Though he'd deceived himself, he loved her still. As he'd once told her, "Always." No matter what the present and the future held, she was stuck with him until further notice.

As perplexed as she felt, undone too, but what was she supposed to have done, let Alec die, Kiera never once buckled under Carlos' stark scrutiny.

Even when he gruffly put the million dollar question to her: "Where is Kellog?"

There was no escaping his confusion and the deep-seated feeling of failure they exchanged. So many valiant people of the VPD who'd befriended her lay dead. As upset as Carlos, Kiera never flinched, not even once, as the helicopter spirited the slippery manipulator and head of Piron away, destination, unknown.

At least not yet.

They'd lost this battle, but the war had just begun...