The Art of Stealing Time: A Time Thief Novel

by Katie MacAlister

  “And what’ll you do then?” Irv asked, giving me an indulgent smile that just made me irritable. Dammit, it was like they didn’t take me seriously as a threat to their well-being.

  “You don’t want to know. Now bugger off.”

  “Gwen!” both mothers said in unison. “Language, dear,” Mom finished.

  “I can’t believe you kiss your mother with that sort of a mouth, I really can’t,” Frankie said with unbearable self-righteousness.

  “It’s the modern generation,” Irv agreed. “They have no sense of what’s right and what’s not right.”

  “Are you totally unaware of the irony of that statement?” I asked. “You are hit men!”

  “So?”

  I let it go. I just didn’t have the energy to point out the obvious.

  “Know what I think?” Frankie asked Irv.

  “She’s going to run off again?”

  “I’m not going to run away.” My voice was sharp with irritation, but I felt it was justified. “You, however, are leaving. Ethan, you’re the head honcho around here—tell these guys to leave.”

  “I cannot believe someone had the nerve to give my book only three stars! The last volume was all about how I dealt with having a famous mother. It was filled with celebrity insider information! Three stars? It’s ten stars’ worth of a book at least. Twenty stars. Three is just utterly ridiculous.” He looked up. “Who is this Mr. Amazon? I wish to have a word with him about the people who leave stars on his Web site.”

  “You really do live in your own little world, don’t you?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Does nothing register with you?”

  “Not really,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not really cut out for all of this, you see. Oh, there was a time when I fought every battle and bested every foe, but really, what’s there to look forward to once you’ve conquered all there is to conquer? That’s when I decided to begin writing my autobiography. In seventeen volumes. Who are you?”

  I was about to tell him—again—who I was when I realized he was looking at Irv and Frankie.

  “They’re hit men.” Surely even Ethan wouldn’t be uncaring if murderers were wandering around his camp.

  “Enforcers,” Irv corrected me.

  “I’m sure that someone as erudite and learned as you must see that having such uncouth mortals around your camp is not going to reflect well on you.” I pursed my lips and looked thoughtful, figuring that Ethan might be swayed by commercial concerns. “After all, people might get the wrong idea about books written by the sort of man who has hired thugs hanging around him. I certainly wouldn’t want to buy the book of such a man, no matter how interesting the material was.”

  “Hmm.” Ethan appeared to be considering the idea.

  “We have no quarrel with you, mate,” Irv told him and pointed to me. “It’s this one who we was told to bring back. And now here she is waving that sword in our faces and telling everyone that we killed a bunch of giddy guards when we didn’t. Trying to black our good name, she is.”

  “I’m sure that was just a misunderstanding,” Mom Two said, indignation rife in her voice. “Gwen would never cast an aspersion upon someone unless she felt it was just.”

  “That’s as may be.” Irv smiled at me. I was momentarily disconcerted by the sudden gesture. And that was my undoing, because while I was trying to figure out what he had to smile about, Frankie moved as fast as a snake, grabbing Mom Two in a hold that had her yelping.

  “You bastard!” I started toward him with my sword held high, but stopped at the sight of metal glinting in Frankie’s hand.

  “Alice!” Mom shrieked and would have lunged at Frankie if I hadn’t held her back.

  “Let me handle this, Mom.” I took a deep breath. “Mom Two, are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she said, her dark eyes filled with fear. I hated Frankie at that moment, hated that he could make someone as happy and loving as my mother fearful of being harmed.

  “Let her go, Frankie,” someone said in a low, ugly voice that was filled with so much menace it made me shiver. I was momentarily startled to realize it came out of my mouth.

  “Boss said we was to come back with you, or your head. This isn’t you, but maybe he won’t mind so much when we tell him that the head we have belonged to your mum.”

  “Gwenny.” My mother plucked at my sleeve, her anguish as palpable as Mom Two’s fear. I stood on the balls of my feet, my gaze locked on Frankie’s knife, trying to think of how best to disarm the situation. If I rushed him, he’d likely sink his knife into her neck, and although she wouldn’t keel over from a wound like mortals would, she could be killed.

  “This appears to be a tricky situation,” Ethan commented, and rising, he strode over to where Frankie held Mom Two. “You there, whatever your name is, release my witch. Holly has much work for her to do and would be most unhappy if you were to disarrange those plans.”

  “This has nothing to do with you, mate,” Irv said, moving over to stand next to Frankie. “I’d advise you to stay out of it and let us handle it.”

  “Ethan,” I said, gently pushing my mother behind me, all the while never taking my eyes off that knife. “I bet Diego would like to come out to play.”

  “I doubt that. He’s testy today.”

  “Ethan.” The word was ground through my teeth in an attempt to get him to understand what I was suggesting. “Let Diego out.”

  “Look here, you,” Irv said, pointing at me. He and Frankie were close enough that if Ethan unleashed his alien hand, it might be enough of a distraction that I could rescue Mom Two. “I don’t know who this Diego bloke is when he’s at home, but he isn’t going to help you any. Frankie’s going to lose his patience in a minute if you don’t agree to come with us.”

  “Very well, but if he misbehaves, I’m holding you responsible.” Ethan unbuckled the strap holding his arm to his belly, sliding the leather slinglike structure off. Immediately his hand reached out and grabbed my left breast.

  I stared down at it in mingled horror and surprise. His fingers flexed.

  “I told you he was testy today. Diego! Release that woman’s nipple. It isn’t yours to fondle.”

  Frankie and Irv snickered.

  “This isn’t quite what I had in mind,” I snapped, shoving the hand away. It reached back as if it was going to cop another grope, but I shifted, pointing the tip of the sword at it. The fingers twitched and slunk back to Ethan.

  “If playtime’s over, we’ll be getting along now,” Irv said.

  Ethan frowned at him. “I do not wish for you to kill my witch. You, woman, do something to stop them.”

  “I’m trying,” I snapped, waving my sword in the air. “But thus far I haven’t had a lot of luck, and Diego was a huge letdown.”

  “You’re an alchemist. Do something.”

  “Like what?” I gave him an incredulous look. “Transmute them to death? That would take centuries, not that I can do it to begin with.”

  “Time’s up,” Frankie said, clearly having reached the end of his patience. I didn’t blame him. I wanted to slap Ethan for being such an idiot.

  “Either you come with us now, or we’ll be taking the head of your mum here back to our boss.” Irv stepped forward with a nasty smile.

  “How about you two return to your boss and tell him to mind his own damned business.”

  We all turned to look at the source of the voice, a surge of joy filling me as Gregory entered the tent. He looked relaxed and carefree, with a slight smile on his lips, but I knew without a single shred of doubt that he was furious. I could feel his tension prickle along my skin like the static electricity that we generated when things got hot and heavy between us.

  “You have excellent timing,” I told him.

  “It goes along with the whole Traveller thing.” His gaze held mine for a few seconds, and I suddenly understood why I felt the electricity in the air.

  “Mom,” I said softly. “The egg spell. Do you remember it
?”

  Mom frowned, sliding me a worried look. “Egg spell? No, I don’t think I know a spell that has anything to do with eggs other than—” She stopped.

  “I don’t know who you are,” Irv told Gregory, “but you’re not wanted here, mate. Best be on your way.”

  “Ah, but I know well who you are, and I object to you holding Gwen’s mother in that manner. Let her go, and there won’t be any trouble between us.”

  “Ooh.” Mom Two stopped being afraid for a few seconds, rolling her eyes over to examine Gregory. “Mags, this is him.”

  “Is it?” Mom stopped whispering her spell, also giving Gregory the visual once-over. “He’s not what I expected. Gwen’s never liked blonds before.”

  “Well, he is technically handsome, if you like that sort of thing,” Mom Two admitted.

  “But she’s not been one for letting a pretty face turn her head,” Mom argued. “Do you know, Alice, I think that bodes well for her future. He’s totally different from all the other men she’s brought to see us.”

  “Really?” I asked, turning to her. “Do we have to have this conversation right now?”

  “All the other men?” Gregory asked at the same time, giving me a look that warned he had a lot to say about the subject. “Just how many other men has she brought home to meet you, madam?”

  “None of your business.” I spoke loudly and pointed with the sword to Frankie. “Can we get back to what’s important here, please?”

  “It’s not really that many,” Mom Two told him. “Maybe ten?”

  “Twelve, I think, dear. No, I tell a lie. It’s thirteen.”

  “Mom!” I gave her a long-suffering look. “I have not had thirteen boyfriends. Five, maybe. Six at most.”

  “Thirteen,” Mom said with a knowing expression on her face. “The first was that poet who wore all the lace and that smelly hair oil. He went down with the Titanic, didn’t he? Then there was the politician who supported the suffragettes. He was quite nice, but mortal. And then you fell for your alchemy instructor, and after that was an actor. Do you remember him? He was so good at charades.”

  “He was a very nice boy,” Mom Two agreed. “As was that young man in advertising she was with during the fifties.”

  I glanced at Gregory. His jaw was tight, and his eyes glittered like particularly pissed blue topazes. “Maybe we can do this another time—”

  “I do remember the clown.” Mom shuddered. “He was horrible.”

  “Then there was the dog trainer, and the accountant—”

  “He made her cry a lot. I didn’t like him at all.”

  “And the astronaut, and then those twins that she couldn’t decide between, even though they were both clearly quite, quite gay—”

  “Bi,” I interrupted, my cheeks hot. “They were bisexual, not gay.”

  “And the man who created that vacuum cleaner, and finally, that rock climber. That’s thirteen.”

  “Astronaut?” Irv asked, giving me an appraising glance.

  I waved it away. “Everyone was dating test pilots and astronauts in the sixties. Besides, it’s not like I was a fragile little thing living in an egg carton.”

  Mom caught the emphasis on the last words, and finished whispering her spell.

  “I’m more disturbed by the thought of dating a clown,” Ethan said from where he was, back at his laptop. “That’s just creepy.”

  “Thirteen,” Gregory said, his eyes glittering.

  The hairs on my arm stood on end.

  “It’s not important!” I yelled, taking everyone by surprise. Luckily, Gregory was waiting for it, and having gathered up enough electricity, called down the lightning.

  Right on top of Frankie and Irv.

  FIFTEEN

  Gregory did the best he could to shield Gwen’s mother from the lightning that exploded around him in a brilliant blue-white ball of light, jerking her out of the hold in which one of the no-necks held her, pulling her close against his body so as to channel the charge onto himself.

  She didn’t even jerk as the electricity crackled and snapped around him, and glancing down, he was astonished to see a protective glow of yellow light skimming her body.

  “Mom Two!” Gwen yelled and ran to them.

  “I’m all right. Your mother got that protection spell off just in time,” the woman said into his collarbone. He released her just as Gwen reached them. She hugged her glowing mother, ignoring the electricity as it embraced her, then turned a look on him that was so filled with admiration and gratitude, it had his chest swelling with pride.

  “Thank you,” she told him, gently touching his face. Her mothers embraced, their voices a low murmur that seemed to fade when he caught that sweet wildflower scent that always seemed to surround Gwen.

  He didn’t want her thanks. He wanted her. “My pleasure. It seemed you could use a hand. I hope you don’t mind that I interfered.”

  “Mind?” She shook her head in confusion. “Why would I mind that you saved my mom?”

  “Some women don’t hesitate to make it clear that they don’t need to be rescued by a man. I had an idea that you might follow that belief.”

  “There’s not being a victim, and then there’s being stupidly stubborn and not taking help when it’s offered,” she said, giving him a swift hug. “My mom’s life was at stake. I am more than happy to have your assistance saving her from that bastard.”

  “What the devil just happened here?” They both turned when Ethan marched over, scowling fiercely at Gregory. “You, sir! You stole the very lightning from the heavens and wielded it as if it was a weapon!”

  “I did.” Gregory considered the two men who lay twitching on the ground before them. Both their faces were blackened, their hair standing on end in unruly clumps, with the faintest hint of smoke emerging from one of them. “My apologies about the smoke stains on the carpet.”

  “You are not a thief as you said you were!” Ethan poked him in the chest. His other hand reached up and cupped his pectoral muscle in a surprisingly intimate gesture.

  “Down, Diego!” Gwen said, glaring at the hand. “He’s mine. That includes his fabulous chest.”

  “Er . . . think nothing about this.” Ethan grabbed his hand and pulled it back, quickly slipping in place the leather harness that held the hand down. “My hand gets confused about genders sometimes.”

  “Your hand has issues,” Gwen said. “And not just with genders.”

  “The fact remains that you lied to me,” Ethan ignored Gwen to tell Gregory. “You are not a thief. Therefore, you are up to mischief. You will tell me exactly what that is, and then I will call Holly and she will know how to deal with you.”

  “I have not lied to you,” Gregory said calmly, wrapping an arm around Gwen. One of the two men at their feet moaned. The other moved his arms and legs in a motion vaguely reminiscent of swimming. “I have been engaged by the king as a thief. It is not my normal form of employment, however.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “I’m with the L’au-dela Watch.”

  “They have no jurisdiction here,” Ethan told him, still suspicious. “And I have not heard that members of the Watch have lightning available at their whim.”

  “What is going on in here?” A slight woman with long black hair touched with dark green strode into the tent, her eyes angry and her movements sharp and fast. “There was a huge flash of light and—what happened to those two mortals? Who killed them?”

  “They aren’t dead,” Gregory said, nudging one of them with the toe of his shoe. The man moaned and curled up into a fetal ball.

  The woman swung around, her gaze pinning him. Her expression turned dark. “A Traveller! What business have you here?”

  “Holly! I’m glad you’re here—I was about to call for you. That man is here on the king’s command,” Ethan said before Gregory could answer. “He said he was here to steal that dog and deer statue, but the truth is much more frightening. He smote those two mortals with lightning!
He is a lightning-wielder, a manipulator of time and weather, and I for one intend to protest this breach of protocol!”

  Holly studied the two men briefly before leveling her gaze on Gregory. The look in her dark green eyes wasn’t at all friendly. “Indeed. That is a clear violation of the War Agreement of 1717 and, I believe, grounds for punitive action. We shall take this up with that blasted no-name knight. Come, Ethan. You must lodge the protest.”

  “Wait! What?” Gwen asked, looking confused. “Why is Gregory being a Traveller a violation? He hasn’t done anything wrong. Those guys had a knife on one of my moms!”

  “That is of no concern to me. Ethan!”

  Ethan had looked like he was about to slip away, but a sharp glance from Holly stopped him from sidling past them. “What is it, dearest?”

  “You have to go tell that knight of this atrocity.”

  “But I was about to start a new chapter, and you know how I need to concentrate when I do that—”

  Holly grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the private section of the tent. Silence fell around them, making it very easy to hear Holly chastising Ethan for lack of enthusiasm about his own martial campaign, and his feeble protestations.

  “Why are they so pissed about you?” Gwen asked Gregory.

  He shrugged. “To paraphrase the spiky Holly, it is of no concern to me. Do you have time to help me hunt for the missing bird, or must you report for duty soon?”

  “I’m not on until the afternoon shift, but . . .” Gwen cast a worried glance toward her mothers, who were huddled together, conferring quietly.

  “You’d prefer to spend the time with them?” He ignored the burn of jealousy, telling himself that he wasn’t so needy that he couldn’t share her with her family.

  Although really, they’d had her for over a century, and he’d only known her a few days. It was only right that his claim on her time should take precedence.

  “No, it’s not that.” His heart lightened at her words. She bit her lower lip and added in a near-whisper, “I don’t like them being here where I can’t easily keep an eye on them.”

  “They don’t appear to be in any danger now.” He nudged one of the two inert men, who made an involuntary rude noise. Gwen and Gregory moved away. “If it will make you feel better, I will bind them and secure them in a location away from your mothers.”