The Anomaly Trilogy Boxed Set

by Hackett, Anna

  “Why do you do that bastard’s dirty work? He’s a criminal. A killer.” She spat the last word with all the hate and anger she felt for Gabriel Leven.

  Her hunter was silent. Something told her she’d struck a nerve. Her thoughts churned. She could use that. Somehow.

  Voices echoed down the hall. Bay braced herself, ready to make the mother of all commotions.

  “Open the door.” His fingers dug into her hip. Hard. “Scream or make a scene and you’ll regret it.”

  A smart-ass comment balanced on her lips. But somehow she knew he meant it and she wouldn’t like the consequences.

  She unlocked the door, ignoring the tremble in her hands. She refused to be afraid. She’d stopped being afraid the day she’d come home from school and been forced to watch her family being butchered.

  They entered the loft, shoes squeaking on the polished concrete floor. She’d rented a room for a couple of the months from the owner. She hated sharing a place, putting someone else at risk, but it was the best way to cover her tracks. No leases. No paperwork.

  Thankfully Mara was out.

  Her captor closed the door behind them. The click of the lock sounded loud in Bay’s ears. He pushed her away from him.

  She spun and backed up.

  Dark gray eyes took in the loft in one quick sweep. The industrial feel of the place was softened by Mara’s unique style. A pile of jewel-toned cushions sat in the center of the room around a low, intricately-carved wooden table covered with candles. A large canvas splashed with paint in Pollock-inspired chaos graced the exposed brick wall near the small kitchen.

  “Not your style,” the man pronounced.

  She cast him a sharp glance. “How the hell would you know?”

  He moved with that easy, fluid walk she’d noticed before. “I’ve studied you for months. Bold and colorful isn’t you.”

  The idea that he’d been watching her so closely made her uncomfortable. “Oh yeah, so what’s my style?”

  “Plain. Simple.”

  That stung. “Boring.”

  He faced her now. “No. Clean, uncluttered.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe the fact I’ve been on the run from Leven since my teens has something to do with that. No time to collect trinkets.”

  His gaze moved across her face in a way that made her want to rub her cheek. “You killed his people.”

  Something molten and nasty punched through her veins. “Only the ones who tried to kill me!”

  She fought back the guilt. She hated taking lives. But when it came down to her life or her attacker’s, she fought to survive.

  “That’s not what he told me.”

  Bay threw her arms in the air. “Oh well, take the word of the lying, thieving crime lord over an innocent woman.”

  He took a menacing step closer. “You’re not innocent.”

  The words were cold. A shiver snaked through her as she dropped her arms. She might see something human in this man, but she couldn’t forget he was dangerous.

  “You killed his wife.”

  God. Memories poured through Bay, ripping at her with sharp claws. “Yes. I did. And I’d do it again.”

  His lips tightened. He grabbed her arm in an unyielding hold. “I’m taking you in.”

  “To the police?”

  “No.” He pulled out a cellphone. “Your little…ability means the police can’t handle you. Leven can.”

  Fear was a horrible spill of bile in her mouth. But she refused to let this man see it.

  She lifted her chin. “The others he sends usually try to hurt me first. Knock me around, beat me.” She wrapped her other arm around her stomach. She didn’t want to remember the ones who tried to touch her.

  Gray eyes darkened as he lifted his phone. After a few curt instructions, he shoved it back in his pocket and towed her toward the door.

  Bay cast one last glance around the loft. Goodbye, Mara. Bay wouldn’t come back here. She’d miss the woman. The self-assured redhead had become the closest thing Bay had had to a friend in years.

  It seemed she was destined to always say goodbye to those she cared about.

  After checking the hall was empty, her captor dragged her back onto the street. A chill winter wind whipped along the sidewalk, tossing the ends of her hair across her face. He’d left his coat inside but appeared impervious to the cold.

  She studied his hard jaw. She had to find a way to get to him. It was her only chance.

  “You aren’t like Leven’s other goons.”

  Silence. He didn’t take his gaze off the road.

  “You’re military.” Wasn’t hard to guess. The guy moved with trained precision.

  “Was.”

  God, how could one word hold so much anger?

  “Why are you doing this? Working for Leven?”

  The man turned his head slowly. “Because he promised me the chance to hunt and kill time thieves.”

  Bay’s rapid heartbeat thudded in her ears. She was wrong. This man wouldn’t help her.

  Hunching her shoulders, she stared down the street. Saw the black SUVs speeding in their direction.

  “He lied to you.” She lifted her face to the cold wind. “He’ll let you hunt us, but he won’t let you kill us.”

  Her hunter frowned. “Of course he will. That’s what this is all about.”

  She gave a painful laugh. “No. The only thing Gabriel Leven wants is control of my power.”

  ***

  She was lying.

  Sean tightened his grip on her as Leven’s men screeched to a stop at the curb.

  Leven had promised Sean revenge.

  As the car doors opened, Sean combed through his conversations with Leven. The man had never actually said what he’d do with the thieves once they were captured. He’d just told Sean he’d have all the resources he needed to hunt them and bring them in.

  Damn it. Now was not the time to let doubts creep in. He’d finally caught her. A dangerous time thief he’d been tracking for months.

  Remember the guys. The ones he’d promised to protect, who’d been butchered without a chance to defend themselves.

  Leven’s men got out of the vehicles.

  Sean saw them raise their guns.

  He didn’t stop to think. He pushed the thief sideways. As she stumbled, he followed her, pushing her to the ground.

  Automatic gunfire sprayed the footpath with a roar.

  The thief was already moving. She scrambled across the ground, headed for a parked car ahead of them. Sean followed.

  His mind registered that the men weren’t shooting to kill her.

  Sean crouched with his back pressed to a late-model Chevy. He drew his SIG-Sauer and returned fire. He sent a few well-aimed bullets into the engine block of the lead SUV.

  Then there was silence.

  “We just want the thief, Archer.”

  Sean recognized the voice. One of Leven’s inner circle. “Then why the hell are you shooting, Gordon?”

  “You’ve outlived Mr. Leven’s employment. Now send the thief out.”

  Sean looked down at the woman beside him. Her pale green eyes were wide. He saw fear buried in their depths. Something told him this woman hid her fear from everyone, even herself.

  Why the hell had Leven turned on him like this? Sean studied the woman. Maybe Leven knew she’d talk. And what she had to say wouldn’t match Leven’s story.

  “Why’d you kill Leven’s wife?”

  Her eyes closed, a spasm crossing her face. When her eyes opened, they were blank. “She was a murdering, torturing bitch. She killed my family. In front of me. She sliced up my baby sister.” Her voice caught. “Lily was nine.”

  God. He’d been so stupid. Letting his burning need for revenge drive him to work with a man like Gabriel Leven.

  Another spray of bullets hit the car.

  Sean’s focus narrowed. He scanned the street. “When I return fire, you run across the street. Through that alley.”

  She followed his gaz
e. Nodded.

  “Run and don’t look back.”

  “I’m good at that.”

  “Good.” He lifted his gun. “Ready?”

  Sean didn’t wait for a response. He broke cover and picked his targets. He shot the men on the road side of the car first.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her move.

  What’re you going to do now, Archer? He fired again. Bullets impacted near him. How about just survive?

  A window shattered above him, showering him with lethal shards of glass. There was a sting above his eye, the warm slide of blood. He swiped at the flow then ignored it.

  But after trading more gunfire, he realized he was going nowhere. He was pinned down.

  There was no panic. No fear. He’d always thought he’d face his death with a roar, fighting it all the way. But those bloody moments in the desert had changed him. Now he welcomed death.

  Now he wouldn’t be the only survivor left to drown in his guilt.

  Suddenly a small hand gripped his forearm. He jerked around.

  She was back.

  “I told you to run.”

  She heaved an aggravated sigh. “I couldn’t leave you.”

  Then she closed her eyes.

  Disorientation hit. Sean’s head spun and he felt a quickening inside him. Like a surge of adrenaline.

  Everything around them froze.

  Holy hell. He stood, barely aware of her rising beside him. There was no sound. It was eerie.

  In front of him, he saw multiple bullets hanging suspended in air. Leven’s men were standing beside the SUVs, guns raised, looking like suit-covered statues.

  “Time just stops.” His men had looked like this. He’d looked like this. Lambs to the fucking slaughter.

  “No. Time’s still progressing, just slowly. Or we’re moving quicker. I don’t really know.”

  Her voice wavered and he looked at her. Her face was white, her lips pinched. Her hands were shaking and as he watched, she shoved them in the pockets of her jeans.

  “It hurts?”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “Not usually, just if I do it again too soon.” That intriguing moss-green gaze linked with his. “I can’t hold it long. We need to get out of here.”

  They took off for the alley. It was strange to see the cars in the middle of the street just stopped. As he and the woman moved between the two brick buildings, the stench of rot hit them. Then she stumbled.

  Sean grabbed her before she hit the ground. She was shaking. He saw blood on his hand and cursed. “You’re hit.”

  “Just a graze. Go. I’ll be fine.” Her voice was the barest whisper.

  “Lady, you’ve run circles around me for the last three months. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” He hauled her up—there wasn’t much to her—and slung her arm over his shoulders. “Now move.”

  Chapter Three

  Bay fought to hold time.

  Every muscle in her body burned. Dizziness clamped down on her and nausea swirled in her belly.

  She’d expected her captor-turned-ally—what had they called him? Archer?—to run. Instead he’d dragged her across downtown with dogged determination.

  She did what she could to help but her stumbling steps were slowing them down.

  Her leg muscles cramped and she dug her fingers into his shoulder to keep from crying out.

  “Let it go.”

  “What?” She blinked up at him.

  “Time. Let it go.”

  “Just a bit long—”

  He gave her a light shake. “I’m practically carrying you. It’s tearing you apart. Just let it go. We’ll get out of here.”

  She wasn’t used to taking orders. She wavered for a second, keeping her tenuous grip on her power.

  Then she released her hold.

  Time clicked back in.

  Cars motored past them, pedestrians poured along the sidewalk, traffic lights changed red to green.

  She sagged against him, her energy gone.

  He hauled her up against his side. “We can’t risk a cab or stealing a car. Leven’ll check.”

  “Just leave me.” She didn’t know this man’s story but regardless of whatever had sent him into Leven’s dubious employ, he didn’t deserve to lose his life because of her.

  Too many people had already.

  He ignored her and dragged her onward. Bay just focused on one step, then the next.

  They reached Colfax and headed west. The tidy wealth of the city slowly gave way to seamy decay. Shabby storefronts housed bail bonds agencies and pawn shops. Gas stations and used car dealers with gaudy signs.

  A good place to disappear.

  They must have been a sight. Stumbling. Bleeding. By the time they reached a motel Archer obviously decided looked seedy enough, he was all but carrying her.

  “Just a bit farther,” he said.

  She gave a fierce nod. She’d goddamn make it. No way she’d let Leven win.

  Archer propped her against a parked car. “I’ll rent a room. Stay out of sight. I want the clerk to only remember seeing a man, not a couple.”

  She gave him another nod. Stealing time twice in such quick succession had wiped her out. She usually needed a day or so between using her powers to recover.

  As he stalked off, she probed her bleeding arm. Winced. It looked worse than it was, but now she was close to being safe, pain was creeping in like a hungry wolf for the kill.

  Then Archer was there again, leading her to a room at the end of the row. He unlocked the door and flicked on the light.

  Ouch. Even exhausted and in pain, she had sympathy for the worn, rundown room. Threadbare carpet, thin floral spread over the sagging double bed and the musty scent of old cigarette smoke.

  “Let me take a look at your arm.”

  “I’m fine.” She turned away from him, heading on shaky legs to the tiny bathroom. “You look worse than me.” Blood crusted his temple and the left side of his face.

  “I’m a trained field medic.”

  Bay tucked her bedraggled hair behind her ears. “You’ve been trying to kill me for three months, why the hell should I trust you?”

  “I helped you escape.”

  “And I saved your life, so consider us even.” She grabbed a thin towel off the rack. Ignoring its disturbing gray tinge, she pressed it to her arm.

  “God, you’re stubborn.” He released a long breath. “Let me help.”

  She always dealt with her injuries alone. She glanced at herself in the cracked mirror above the sink. Her face was pale, her eyes underscored by dark circles.

  Behind her Archer stood, a solid demanding presence.

  He’d been her hunter for months, now he was helping her. She gave a mental shrug. He wouldn’t be in her life long. What was the harm in letting someone else take care of things? Just for a little while.

  “Fine. Do your worst.” She sank onto the closed lid of the toilet and lowered the towel.

  He washed his hands, then sank into a crouch and prodded her wound with gentle fingers. “Bullet just nicked you.”

  When he hit a tender spot, she grimaced. “Not the first time.”

  His jaw tightened. He stood and she watched as he wet a towel and cleaned the gash.

  How often had she been holed up in some tired motel room washing off blood? She watched his strong fingers as he tended her. When was the last time someone had taken care of her?

  His hand stilled. “What’s your name?”

  She blinked. “You don’t know?”

  “I didn’t want to know.” His tawny head bent back over her arm. “Probably a sign I knew hunting you wasn’t right.”

  He hadn’t wanted to humanize her. “My name’s Bay. Bay North.”

  “I’m Sean.”

  Their gazes met for a moment. A recognition they were no longer enemies.

  He rifled through one of the pockets on his cargo pants and withdrew a tiny first aid kit. He held up a small tube. “Antibiotic cream.” After he’d r
ubbed some on, he took out a bandage, covered her wound then sat back. “Best I can do for the moment.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat, fighting back aches that were refusing to be ignored. “Thanks.” She studied the gash on his forehead. “Let me take a look at your cut.”

  He didn’t argue, just perched on the edge of the cracked tub.

  After wetting another towel, she moved over to him. As she washed away the dried blood and cleaned the cut, she realized how close she was to him. Standing between his thighs, feeling the heat coming off his body. He smelled of dangerous man—sweat, metal and leather.

  She dabbed a little too hard and he hissed out a breath. “Sorry. Nursing’s not my forte.” She gentled her movements. “So, Leven turned on you?”

  “Yeah.”

  He didn’t sound happy. “I suggest you leave Denver and get as far away from Leven’s organization as you can. Find a nice island, a white sand beach and a cozy beach house. Forget you ever heard of Gabriel Leven.”

  “Is that what you’d do?”

  She sensed Archer studying her but kept her gaze on his cut. He didn’t know it, but she’d confessed her deepest fantasy. Hearing the gentle wash of waves and feeling the lovely heat of the sun. Peace. “Yeah, if I knew the bastard wouldn’t follow me.”

  “I didn’t know—” Archer sucked in a breath “—I had no idea he killed your family. That he’s trying to use you.”

  He sounded sincere. Not that she cared. “Why’d you join Leven?”

  “He offered me a chance for revenge.”

  Revenge. A word she understood all too well. “Against time thieves?” What the hell had happened to him?

  “Yeah.”

  Maybe he just thought time thieves were freaks. Aberrations of nature. Didn’t she think the same in the darkest part of her sleepless nights?

  The bathroom suddenly seemed too small. She shoved the towel at him. “You should put some of that cream on it.”

  He surged upward, pushing the towel away. For a second, they were pressed together, gazes locked.

  Bay felt a traitorous curl of something she refused to name. Her life left no time for romance, and sex was a rare indulgence—a quick, anonymous release of tension when she felt safe enough.

  She didn’t want to feel any sort of connection with this hard, damaged man.