by W. J. May
In no time at all, they’d over-reached their goal. The sun was sinking lower and Rae was about to suggest that they call it a day, when she ran straight into a group of angry-looking men.
Damn karma. Gets you every time.
“Hey, honey, you lost?”
Rae screeched to a stop at the top of the stairs, panting for breath as the smile slid slowly off her face. There was nothing overtly aggressive about the way they were standing. No cracking knuckles or lead pipes. But there was something dangerous about them at the same time. Something distinctly territorial. She realized it at the same time she noticed they were blocking the stairs.
“Um...no.” She took a step to edge around them, hazarding a quick smile. “Thanks.”
That’s when a giant hand shot out of nowhere, wrapping around her arm. Not wanting any trouble, she slipped into a strength tatù and gave it a cursory tug. Then she remembered she didn’t have a strength tatù and lifted her eyes up the body of the massive man holding her hostage.
And kept lifting. And kept lifting.
What the... what’s happening right now?
Never before had she seen such a person. At first glance, he didn’t look like something from real life. He would have been better suited in one of the fairytales she and Devon read to Aria each night. The giant that guarded a captive princess, or the troll that tormented tourists beneath a bridge.
Standing at well over seven-feet tall, each arm was the size of her entire torso. His neck was wider than most chairs, and a literal shadow fell over the first few rows of seats from where he blocked out the sun. As if that wasn’t enough the sea of bulging muscles stretched across his body was sure to add at least another hundred pounds, leaving him somewhere between four and five.
“Holy crap!” she gasped. Then she remembered herself and forced her face into a trembling smile. “I mean... good day.”
The man smiled. At this point, she was surprised he only had one row of teeth.
“It was a good day. It really was. I got up this morning, ate breakfast, and headed down to the racetrack to have our usual bit of fun. But then, the strangest thing happened.” He took a step towards her and the wooden boards creaked precariously under the weight. “Me and all my friends started losing an ungodly bit of money.”
Rae gulped, feeling a bit like the ‘before’ photo of something that was soon to wind up dead on the side of the road. “Well, that’s... unfortunate.” Her eyes flickered desperately around the arena, searching for her friends. “Maybe I could buy you all a round of drinks and—”
“HEY!”
Thank the Maker.
Rae closed her eyes in relief as Luke pushed his way suddenly out of the crowd. The man he was shouting at may have been some leftover from Middle Earth, but he placed his body squarely in between them, eyes flashing with indescribable rage.
“Get your hands off her.”
Much to Rae’s surprise the man did, in fact, release her. He stared down instead at the top of Luke’s head, looking as though he found the idea of resistance to be rather adorable.
“Ah yes,” he murmured, speaking to his friends, “this one’s in on it, too. He’s one of the ones by the counter, placing bets.”
Luke’s indignation faltered for just a split second as he discreetly pushed Rae behind his back. It seemed that delicate house of cards they’d been building had finally come crashing down.
In the form of a Stone Age giant.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said coolly, nudging her further back down the stairs. “My friends and I are enjoying a day at the races. Same as you.”
It was utterly surreal.
Rae couldn’t remember the last time she’d contemplated the idea of a retreat. Almost a decade of collecting the most powerful ink on the planet had given her a feeling of permanent invincibility. Permanently erased the concept of surrender from her mind.
Until now.
Come on, guys. Where are you?
She hadn’t been up to the counter to place the bet, nor had she been down at the track to get another one. Any minute now, the rest of them were bound to notice something was wrong.
Sure enough, from where she stood she saw Julian’s eyes flash white again. The second they darkened back he stood up suddenly, Devon right by his side.
In the meantime, Luke wasn’t backing down. And it was sure to get him killed.
“Let us through,” his voice was quiet but carried an unmistakable threat, “or I promise you will regret it.”
The giant threw back his head with a booming laugh, one that caused the people sitting closest to spill their ale and flocks of birds to go flying from the trees.
“Did you hear that, gents? The kid’s trying to give us a warning.”
The kid didn’t appreciate the nickname.
There was a flash of speed, then one of the cronies standing behind him went flying into the stands. A muffled cry, and another was soon to follow. A second later, Luke was back by Rae’s side.
“Move. Now.”
Even the giant had the wherewithal to look surprised. Even impressed. Though he was hardly threatened. At this point, all the men standing behind him were completely superfluous. In all likelihood, they had only come along with him to gamble and drink.
In the end, he merely smiled.
“I don’t think you realize what you just did, son.” There was a touch of amusement in his voice, along with something else that was harder to recognize. “Whose money you stole.”
Luke’s eyes flashed with an uncharacteristically brash smile.
“And I suppose you’re going to enlighten me, is that right?”
Brave as he was, Rae didn’t think she wanted to be there for that lesson. Fortunately, she didn’t have to. There was a pounding of footsteps, and the next second Devon and Julian raced out of the crowd, joining the others at the top of the steps.
“What the—”
There was an inaudible gasp as they both screeched to a stop at the same time, staring up at the man with looks of childlike wonder. Then Julian gave Devon a pointed nudge in the back, and the latter stepped forward. A slightly intoxicated prince squaring off against a dragon.
“...is there a problem?”
It looked like he was praying there wasn’t. And was simultaneously regretting having had consumed the entire flagon of mead.
The giant stared down with a grin. No more concerned now that there were four of them than he had been before. “Yes, there is. You and your friends have some kind of fix on this horse race.” He took a step forward, casting them all in shadow. “And I want to know what it is.”
By now, the rest of them had ventured down from the booth. They’d heard the commotion and were hovering, apprehensively, at the edge of the crowd. Gabriel still had his powers, meaning that no matter how big this guy was he could fell him like a tree with only two fingers.
But he couldn’t use those powers in public. And the others couldn’t make a scene.
“Listen,” Devon said slowly, “we don’t want any trouble—”
“It’s that one!” One of the men Luke had thrown was pulling himself up again, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he pointed a gnarled finger. “The one with the dark hair!”
Julian paled and took a step back. “He’s wrong.” He held up his hands as the giant turned his way. “Trust me, I didn’t even want to come here—”
There was a rush of wind, followed by a sickening crunch.
And just like that, their day at the races was over.
Chapter 5
“Jules?” A slender hand stroked his hair. “Jules, can you hear me?”
For the second time, Rae Kerrigan watched as one of her friends slowly drifted back into consciousness. For the second time, she had the vaguest suspicion it was indirectly her fault.
There was a faint stirring on the bed. Followed by a deep breath.
“Hey, buddy, you alive?”
Devon was perched on one si
de of the bed. Angel was on the other. They both reached down automatically to help as their battered psychic slowly opened his eyes.
“Alive, no.” Julian grimaced and lifted a hand to his head. “What happened?”
“You were knocked out by some kind of Babylonian,” Gabriel informed him, leaning casually against the window frame. “I can’t even tease you about it. I’m just that impressed.”
Julian blinked for a moment, then paled in disbelief. “Wait. That guy was real?”
Devon chuckled quietly, helping him to his feet. “I’m afraid so. There’s also a significant chance he bashed your skull in. So, take it easy, okay?”
The psychic swayed dizzily but managed to stand, gripping hard onto his friends for support. For a moment, it looked like the slate had been wiped clean. Then, little by little, it started coming back to him. “A day at the races, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.”
“In all fairness, it was pretty fun,” Luke inserted reasonably. “You know, up until that last part where you almost got your face ripped off.”
Molly grinned, but it abruptly faded as the words began to sink in. “Why do I feel like all our stories are starting to end like that?”
“Because they’re good stories,” Gabriel said confidently, shaking out his unruly hair as he claimed the psychic’s spot on the bed. “How would you prefer they end?”
“With us not getting our faces ripped off?”
Julian held up a dizzy hand, bringing them back on point. “All that matters is we got the money, right? I mean, we have everything we need?”
The conversation slowed to a stop. Things were going to get a little dicey. Rae could feel it in her bones.
After Julian had been knocked to the ground, the others had flown into a vengeful rage.
Devon had leapt forward and punched the man full in the face. Angel had appeared out of nowhere and landed a bone-crushing kick to his ribs. Luke had held back a screaming Molly as Rae smashed her elbow into his nose. Then Gabriel had broken a chair over his head from behind.
When the dust cleared and the giant was still standing, they had amended their plan.
Run.
It was a bad enough blow to their collective ego, but of course that wasn’t the half of it. The truth was, they’d only managed to go a few steps before the monster had rather unceremoniously relieved them of their money as well. A nasty little twist all of them would rather forget.
The room fell into an incriminating silence, one that got worse as the psychic looked from one person to the next, increasingly confused. Eventually, he repeated the question.
“Guys... we got the money, right?”
A few seconds passed. Then a few more.
Then Molly piped up in a squeaking voice. “You dropped it.”
And that’s another ten years in purgatory.
Julian leaned back in surprise as the rest of them shared a collective grimace. It was a low blow. Especially considering he was the only one who’d adamantly resisted going to the races in the first place. But not a single person, not even Devon or Angel, seemed to want to admit what had really happened. Not to Julian, and certainly not to themselves.
“Oh.” The psychic dropped his eyes, suddenly downcast. “Guys, I’m so sorry—”
The apology was met with a chorus of dismissals, each more stricken than the last.
“Don’t worry about it,” Devon stopped him quickly. “Besides, Angel still had some leftover cash from that guy’s wallet. We were able to get a room for the night. And some food—see?”
Unable to look his friend in the eyes, he shoved a loaf of bread into his hands. Julian looked down in a daze, and Rae was quick to move the conversation on to other things.
“Look. All that matters is that titan didn’t eat anybody.” She shuddered as she remembered those impossible fists, swinging at his side. “Now let’s just get some sleep, all right? We’ll come up with a new game plan in the morning.”
They had been turned down at the first two inns they’d found—a rather predictable turn of events, given that they were dragging along a body—but had been able to secure a single room in the last place they’d tried. Three tiny cots, a half-melted candle, and a wash basin were all pushed into the corner. Nothing spectacular, but a huge step up from where they’d slept the previous night.
Mainly, there were no bats.
“Is there any chance that new game plan might include some new clothes?” Molly asked hopefully. She’d been absolutely enchanted with the dress she’d bought for the ballet, but after two days of traipsing about the rural London countryside it was beginning to look a bit worse for wear.
“Now that is a great idea,” Gabriel said suddenly. “I personally am going to sleep a lot better the second we get you ladies into some corsets.”
The men shot him conspiratorial grins, then looked quickly away before their wives could catch them. The wives caught them anyway. A rather futile effort all around.
“Laugh it up, Alden.” Molly smirked as she sank onto the nearest bed. “You should see what the men are wearing in this century. Tights, anyone?”
A visible shudder swept through every man in the room.
Every man except Julian, who was still staring down at the floor with a hint of confusion. “...did I even have the money?”
The gang froze in a guilty panic before Angel stepped forward with a sweet smile. “Get some rest, love. Best not to overthink it.”
THE OTHERS SURPRISINGLY passed out rather quickly, given the fact that most of them were sleeping on a hard, wooden floor. While the cots technically allowed for the size of two people, they didn’t allow for the weight. The second the legs on the first one splintered in half the boys were banished to the floor, while the girls smugly claimed what was left.
Rae was lying a bit away from the others, having automatically volunteered to be on the floor. She was still feeling quite a bit guilty for landing them there in the first place, and was trying to do anything she could to make amends. But even though it had been her idea to go to bed early, she was completely unable to sleep. Instead, she found herself staring up at the wooden knots in the ceiling, fluttering her fingers absentmindedly by her side.
There has to be something about this I’m missing. Some trigger that set off the ink.
For the millionth time she replayed the exact moment it had happened, poring over every infinitesimal detail in her mind...
She had been trying to find a way to stop the chaos.
Well, this is certainly chaotic. We’re sleeping in a glorified shed, trapped in the late 1600s, having recently escaped from some sort of mammoth disguised as a man.
With a silent prayer she sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, and focused every thought on home. Home in her own time. Home where the rest of her family was waiting.
A few seconds passed before she opened one eye. Then the other. Then let out a sigh.
Okay, what else? I was feeling frantic and hurried. Maybe if I try to give myself some sort of panic attack, I can recreate the results—
“Sweetheart?”
Rae jumped a mile as a quiet voice whispered in her ear. Her eyes shot open and she found herself staring into the handsome face of her husband, painted silver by the light of the moon.
“Your lips are turning blue.”
She stared at him a second in surprise, then let out a deep sigh. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. The room sharpened back into focus, and a second later she found herself nestling down into the waiting circle of his arms.
“Trying to work a little midnight magic?” he guessed with a smile.
She bit down on her lip, more frustrated than she cared to admit.
“What can I say, I’m addicted to failure.”
He laughed softly, gathering her tighter in his arms. “The great Rae Kerrigan. Darling of the Privy Council, champion of Guilder, legend in the supernatural community, taken down by one lousy tatù—”
“Shush, you!�
�� She smacked him in the chest with a giggle, glancing around quickly to make sure that no one else had woken up. “At least I still have a few tatùs. I saw you trip on the stairs at the race track today. The great Devon Wardell taken down by walking?”
Those dimples flashed in the dark as he gave her a punishing pinch. “It’s an adjustment, all right? Like trying to reverse muscle memory.”
“Sure, sure...” she echoed sarcastically, but her mind was already drifting away. His words had jogged something deep in her memory. She just couldn’t remember what.
I don’t have my fire, but I can still manipulate metal...
“Such impossible standards.” He laughed quietly, shaking his head. “And here I thought I was being noble, trying not to complain—”
“Holy crap!” She clapped a hand over his mouth, staring with wide eyes into the dark. A thrill of excitement shot up through her toes, and she trembled where she lay. “Julian was right!”
Devon peeled her fingers back slowly, a curious look in his eyes. “Too often, but don’t tell him. Otherwise he’ll be impossible to manage.”
“No! Devon!” She pulled out of his arms and sat straight up, too excited to bother lowering her voice. “Jules said we didn’t have our powers because our ancestors in this time must not have gotten the tatù yet. He’s absolutely right!”
Devon gave her a blank stare, then shook his head. “I don’t follow—”
“But I have my time-travelling tatù,” she interrupted with a grin, wrapping her hands around his with a tight squeeze. “Which can mean only one thing.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then a flicker of that same smile flashed across his face. “Someone else here has it, too.”
“THIS COULDN’T HAVE waited one hour?” Molly asked sleepily, stumbling over the train of her dress as they made their way down the road. “Just one more hour, then the sun would be up.”
The others looked like they shared her sentiment, but Rae was a woman on a mission. She didn’t have time to wait for things as trivial as the sun. They were already centuries behind.