"You remember them all?"
He shrugged. "After so many, you tend to keep those you enjoyed the best and forget the rest."
"How is this possible?"
"How are you a hundred and fifty years in the past with an empathic memory chip?" he challenged gently.
I touched my head self-consciously. "You know about that."
"It's either that or you're touched like Fighting Badger. Your language skills were another giveaway. Never met a white man who spoke with your fluency."
"I had no idea there was an entire agency devoted to time travel," I said. "I can't wrap my head around that."
"It's a work in progress. Once they were no longer restricted to traveling strictly from future to past, it opened up the doors to more possibilities."
"Carter … doesn't work for them, does he?" I asked with some reluctance.
"No." Taylor's features grew shuttered for a moment. "The truth is we know little about him or what he wants or why he's decided to use that immense intellect of his to change the past."
Part of me was relieved that Carter wasn't a criminal, while another instinct whispered that the unknown had the potential to be even scarier. "Then who the hell is Carter?" I ventured.
"We don't really know. A genius for certain. He created the empathic memory chip, a marrying of technology and human brain power that's theoretically impossible."
My breath caught. "Oh, god. Am I going to explode?"
The sense of disconnect returned. I shook my head, and my ears buzzed.
"Focus," he whispered. He rested his palms on my cheeks.
Just as fast, I was yanked back into reality. I released a breath. I was sitting up, a blanket wrapped around me, while he sat beside me. Enough time had passed for him to put on his pants again.
"I keep getting dizzy," I said.
"Side effect of traveling," he explained. "Look at me."
I obeyed. Taylor's hard green eyes grounded me once more. I took his hands. "You're the only one the chip can't read."
"That I can't explain," he said, taking in my features. "Your nose is bleeding." He rose and went to the basin, dipping a cloth in the water before returning. "Did you tell him about it?"
"Yeah. He's researching it." I accepted the moistened rag. "Thanks." Running through all he'd told me, I giggled at a single thought. "You've probably had ten thousand wives by now!"
"No. Just one."
"Ten thousand lives and only one wife?"
"Yes."
Wow. This was definitely more serious than I wanted it to be. "Taylor," I started, not sure how to say what I needed to diplomatically. "I'm going back."