When she awoke, Annabel had no idea how long she had been asleep. From the stiffness that pervaded her body as she tried to shift in Cole's arms, she figured it had been several hours, at least He was asleep, too, breathing deeply and regularly. The delicate cups of tea sat untouched on the silver tray nearby.
Annabel was able to slip out of his embrace without waking him. She stood up, stretched, and looked around the room, wondering if Wing Ko did indeed have spies observing them. She wouldn't have put anything past the tong leader, not after everything she had seen the night before.
Suddenly, something nagged at the back of her brain. The day before had been April 17. She and Cole had been captured by Wing Ko during the evening. They had been brought here and had waited for quite a while before Wing Ko came to talk to them. Then they had both dozed off, and more time had passed. It had to be well after midnight by now, maybe even close to dawn on April 18.
April 18 . . . April 18, 1906. . . Why did that date practically scream out in her mind as having some sort of important meaning . . . ?
Annabel's eyes widened in horror, and she breathed, "Oh, no. No, it can't be."
But she could hear Earl Tabor's voice as clearly as if he were in the room with her, saying as he had on countless occasions when talking about the history of San Francisco, It was just after five o'clock in the morning on April eighteenth, 1906, when the great earthquake hit . . .
Now she also recalled what Earl had said in the fire museum about the photograph's having been taken not long before the earthquake
Annabel spun around and lunged toward the divan. She knew Cole carried a pocket watch in his trousers. Her hand dug in the little pocket just-below his belt and closed around the smooth surface of the watch case. Cole jolted upright, startled out of sleep, and exclaimed, "Wha—Annabel? What are you doing? What time is it?"
That was just what she was trying to find out. She struggled with the catch on the watch, but finally the case sprang open, revealing the face of the timepiece. The hands stood at 5:05.
Her voice trembled as she asked, "Is this watch right?" -
"Of course it is," Cole said. "Annabel, what's going on? How long have I been asleep?"
"We've both been asleep all night," she said. "And now it's too late."
"Too late?" Cole stood up from the divan and gripped her upper arms. "Annabel, what are you talking about? Has Wing Ko been here again?"
A laugh that bordered on hysteria bubbled out of her mouth. Wing Ko was the least of their worries now. "Cole," she said hollowly, "there's going to be an earthquake."
"An earthquake?" he repeated. "How do you know?"
She laughed again. "Trust me. I know. And it's going to start any minute now."
He was looking at her the same way he had looked at her on the ferry dock in Oakland a month or so earlier, and on several other occasions since then: like she had lost her mind and gone stark raving mad.
She fought down the hysteria and found herself growing calm again. An eerie self-possession crept over her. It was coming, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Listen to me, Cole," she said. "Please."
After a second, he said quietly, "I'm listening."
"No matter what happens, always remember that I love you. You've made me happier than I've ever been in my life, happier than I ever dreamed of being."
"Nothing's going to happen—," he began.
She stopped him by laying a fingertip against his lips. "Listen," she said again. "It took a . . . a miracle of sorts to bring us together, but it was meant to be. It was always meant to be. You and I were made for each other."
"Yes," he said huskily. "Yes, I think we were. I love you, Annabel."
"And I love you, and that's all that matters." She slipped her arms around his neck and drew his head down to kiss him. Their lips met, warmly and tenderly stroking, and neither of them even thought about the fact that they might be
being watched. All they could think of was each other. All they needed to think of was each other. The kiss deepened, grew stronger and more passionate.
The earth moved.
Literally.
Annabel cried out in shock as the floor suddenly leaped and bucked under their feet as if it were alive. She grabbed hold of Cole for support, but he was thrown into the air, too. Both of them fell, sprawling on the rug. They were thrown violently back and forth, and a huge, grinding roar slammed into their ears. The room's expensive furnishings were flung around wildly, and the silk tapestries fluttered and flapped on the walls as if a strong wind were blowing. Cole tried to climb to his feet, but he was thrown down again as another strong shock hit.