3 Ways to Wear Red

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3 Ways to Wear Red Page 22

by Janet Leigh


  “Signed in blood?” I asked as he dipped me in rhythm with the music.

  He brought me in close again and slipped something on my finger. It was the ruby ring he’d taken from the Flaktürme. The ring sparkled on my right hand, and I raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction.

  “A ring of trust, because ye look stunning in red. And it’s a ruby, so ye can always find yer way home.”

  The Wizard of Oz reference had me holding back tears. “You took the ring for me?”

  “I did.” He moved me around the dance floor, and I felt like Ginger Rogers on the arm of Fred Astaire. “Do ye forgive me for not being entirely truthful?”

  “I do.”

  Epilogue

  I stepped out of my vessel into the warm May sunshine. Spring was blowing good-bye kisses in the form of dandelion seedpods floating through the air.

  As I walked to Aint Elma’s house, I bent down and pulled a dandelion puff from the ground, blowing its cottony wisps from the stem as I had as a child. I wondered if we were always going to call the little white house tucked back in the woods of Mount Vernon Aint Elma’s house.

  Mamma Bea had sent an invitation to come see her—no excuses. When Mamma Bea sent a handwritten invitation via snail mail, you went.

  I entered the backyard through the gate and glanced at the barn, where only a few weeks ago, Melissa Jo had been married and Caiyan had slipped a ring on my finger. It hadn’t been an engagement ring but a promise to be truthful. No more secrets. It was a step in the right direction.

  Mamma Bea was sitting in a rocking chair on the back porch.

  “Howdy, child. Come sit down with me,” Mamma Bea said as she stood and wrapped her arms around me. The scent of White Shoulders perfume added to the smell of flowering buds, and the fresh breeze had me sitting back and relaxing. I was about to ask why she’d sent for me when Eli came out of the house.

  “Good. Now you’re both here,” she said. She hugged Eli and insisted on getting us some refreshments.

  “Did she send for you too?” I asked after the screen door had slammed behind Mamma Bea.

  “Handwritten.” Eli smiled and turned to let out a loud achoo. “Sorry—allergies,” he said, wiping his nose with a tissue. “Do you know what this is about?”

  “No,” I answered truthfully, but I had an idea. Our gun-toting grandma had been hiding secrets for years, and I was guessing she had one she couldn’t keep any longer.

  Mamma Bea returned with a tray containing a jug of sweet tea and three glasses filled with ice. She poured Eli and me each a glass, filled her own, and sat down. She took a small sip and cleared her throat. “Both of you have the gift of time travel.”

  “Yeah, and so far, it’s gotten me seduced, kidnapped, pestered by the WTF to become a secret agent, and brought down here on my day off.” Eli shook his head as if he needed to pinch himself to know it was all real.

  The WTF had sent Jake to try and recruit Eli. Jake needed more travelers, but he wasn’t too keen on enlisting another of his childhood friends, and Eli didn’t make it any easier. His gift revolved around healing, and he enjoyed his work as a chiropractor. He didn’t think chasing bad guys around during the full moon went with his code of ethics. It would take him away from his patients, and that was a deal breaker.

  “I just don’t get what all this is about,” Eli said.

  “It’s in your blood.” Mamma Bea put her glass down and gathered Eli’s hand in her own.

  “All this time, and I didn’t know you knew,” I said.

  “It’s a long story, dawrlin’. One day I’ll tell you everything, but for right now, you only need to know your pawpaw John was a traveler and did a lot of good. He helped keep the world safe, but he didn’t want his grandchildren to travel.”

  Eli looked as surprised as I felt. I hadn’t known my grandfather was a traveler until Mamma Bea let the cat out of the bag at the wedding.

  “The problem was…it also got him killed.”

  “Maybe we could go back and save him,” Eli said, holding tight to Mamma Bea’s hand.

  “No, honey. You can’t go back and change what was.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “Every time we go back in the past, something gets screwed up, and Jake has to pick up the pieces.”

  “Jennifer’s right,” Mamma Bea said. “It’s the main reason the WTF exists. Those asshole brigands think they can go and do as they please.”

  “We try to stop them,” I added for good measure. Mamma Bea looked over at me, and a crease formed between her brows.

  “I don’t like that my grandchildren are involved, and I tried to keep Elma from giving you the key. In fact, I might have told your parents a few tall tales to keep you from seeing her.”

  “You lied to our parents?”

  “Everything was going smoothly. None of your cousins showed any signs of the gift, and Eli didn’t even spark when Elma went near him.”

  “What do you mean ‘spark’?” Eli asked.

  “Elma was what they called a reader.” Mamma Bea took a sip of her sweet tea.

  “It means when Elma touched someone with the gift, she felt the person’s emotions,” I said.

  “Yes, that’s right.” Mamma Bea seemed surprised I knew.

  “I’m a reader too,” I said.

  “Oh, Jen.” Mamma Bea teared up, and Eli handed her a pack of tissues from his pocket. “When you were nine, Elma felt the gift in you, and I knew it was going to be difficult keeping our secret. I was lucky Elma loved to travel and wasn’t ready to give up her key.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. “Until it was too late, and she lost her life.”

  “These people died because of the gift of time travel?” Eli asked.

  “That’s right, and I’m asking both of you not to do it. Don’t travel. Don’t chase the brigands.”

  I was torn. I wanted to do what Mamma Bea asked, but I couldn’t. Even though my time traveling skills could use a little work, I didn’t want to go back to my dull, ordinary life. I wanted adventure, I wanted to be Caiyan’s transporter, and I wanted to make a difference.

  “I can’t,” I finally said. “It’s my destiny.”

  “I was afraid you would say that.” Mamma Bea hugged me tightly.

  “I know I want to help sick people get well, and I want to keep them well. I don’t think I’m cut out to chase bad guys.” Eli frowned. “Even if I could travel, I don’t have the equipment.”

  Eli didn’t have a vessel or a key. The WTF had Mitchell’s key, but we didn’t have the vessel.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Mamma Bea said, and she stood and went into the house. Eli and I looked at each other and shrugged, not sure if we should follow her.

  We met her in the small den. The scent of vanilla wafted over from a candle burning on her breakfront. She returned with a Macy’s shopping bag that looked like it contained a shoe box.

  “Shoes?” I asked. I could feel my inner voice getting excited over our favorite word.

  “No, dawrlin’,” she said and pulled a mahogany box from the wrappings. “I’ve been keeping this for Eli. Elma thought he might have the gift, but I couldn’t let her drag him into that world. The wounds were too fresh.” She opened the box and took out a key. The moonstone glowed like water reflected off a calm pool. A snowcapped mountain was engraved on the stone, with blue diamonds forming a waterfall that cascaded down the face of the mountain. Mamma Bea leaned forward and handed the key to Eli.

  “It’s the necklace Elma kept trying to get me to wear when I was a boy.”

  “Yes,” Mamma Bea said. “It can be a good part of you, or it can turn you into a greedy, backstabbing son of a bitch.”

  I thought about the two faces of Caiyan. Sometimes he was a ruthless defender and destroyed anything in the path to his goal, and other times he was my knight in shining armor.

  “I know Mahlia used her motorcycle to cart me around. How do you travel?” he asked, his blue eyes full of questions.
<
br />   “Remember that outhouse Aint Elma sent me for my sixteenth birthday?”

  He laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Well, not everyone gets a Harley. And speaking of that”—I turned to Mamma Bea—“do you know the vessel that goes with this key?”

  “As a matter of fact…” She walked over to her curio cabinet, opened the glass, and produced a miniature tepee.

  “It’s cute, but I don’t think Eli is going to fit inside,” I said, peering at the tiny tepee.

  “Let’s go outside, and we’ll just see about that.” She handed the teepee to me, and a smooth flow of energy transferred from the small object into my palm. The painted wolves howling at the moon on the canvas of the tepee suddenly became familiar to me.

  A recollection of Caiyan and me rescuing my key from Pancho Villa and returning it to my great-grandma Mahala Jane flashed across my mind. Her husband, my great-grandfather Jeramiah Cloud, had traveled in a tepee very much like this one.

  Mamma Bea looked around as we entered the backyard, as if a brigand might jump from the shadows at any second. We followed her to the old red barn tucked back in the knotty pines—the same barn Mamma Bea had cleared out for Melissa Jo’s wedding.

  Mamma Bea walked to the center of the barn and stood in the huge open space that the month before had held a dance floor and fifty wedding guests. She took the tepee back from me and set it down in the center of the wood floor. She turned to Eli.

  Eli secured the key around his neck, and it glowed, creating an aura around him. Mamma Bea backed away from the tepee, grabbing my arm and pulling me to the side of the room with her.

  Eli didn’t need any direction. He brought his hands up in the air, and a whirlwind began churning around the barn. A tiny tornado formed at the tip of the tepee, stirring up dust and glittering remnants from the wedding. The tepee began to rotate and distort until, with a loud roar not unlike a wolf’s howl, it transformed into a full-size vessel right before our eyes.

  “How did you do that?” I asked him.

  “I don’t know. I just felt a pull toward the tepee.”

  “So this is the Tribal key?” I asked Mamma Bea.

  “Yes, it was your great-grandpa’s and his grandpa’s before that.”

  I could feel the magnificent power emanating from the vessel. It was much more potent than it had been in its small form. “It has strong power,” I told them.

  “I kept it hidden all these years.” Mamma Bea wiped at her eyes with the tissue. I wasn’t sure if it was sadness or dust that made her eyes tear. “I couldn’t live with myself if Eli was killed over something he didn’t know about.”

  “How does it work?” Eli asked, amazed at his new power.

  I reached out and ran my hand over the smooth buffalo hide that formed the walls of the tepee. We entered the vessel, and I showed him the word etched on the inside of the teepee, hidden in the Ancalites’ ancient script. “Normally, the defenders track and capture a brigand who has traveled to the past. I’m a transporter, so the defender will summon me to bring the bad guy, or what we call a brigand, to our headquarters to keep him from screwing up the past. Lately, I have been working as a team with my defender and traveling with him.”

  “Dang, I knew you were looking more buff, but I didn’t know the reason behind it.” He frowned. “I don’t know if I want to give up my life to travel.”

  “It’s your decision. I won’t divulge that we have the Tribal key. If they find out, they will take it from you, most likely. If you decide not to travel, it’s yours, but anyone with the gift can use it, and I don’t want to see it used for no good.”

  “I’m not sure how much longer I can protect it,” Mamma Bea said. “Somehow the Mafusos figured out it was here.”

  “That’s why they wanted to meet here.” I stomped my foot.

  We stepped out of the tepee, and Eli made it small again. He bent down and picked it up. “I remember playing with this when I was a kid.”

  “Elma was always trying to sneak it to you to see if you showed any signs of having the gift.”

  “I remember,” I said. “The time I cut off my eyelashes. Mom and Dad were so mad they wouldn’t let me stay with Elma after that.”

  “You didn’t see her again until you were nine and not again after that meeting. I’m afraid that was my fault. I was trying to protect you.”

  Mamma Bea pulled me into an embrace. The scent of her White Shoulders perfume made me feel safe, protected. There was no doubt if it wasn’t for her I would have been traveling much earlier, and I knew I wouldn’t have been ready.

  “I don’t know if I want to travel, but I don’t want Mamma Bea to be in danger,” Eli said holding the tepee out in the palm of his hand. “I’ll keep them safe.”

  Mamma Bea and I agreed. The best place for the key was with Eli. If a brigand came after the key, he had the power to keep them at bay.

  The key around his neck twinkled slightly, and I knew everything was as it should be.

  Eli smiled, and his blue eyes danced as he touched his key. “Looks like I’m going to wear a necklace after all.”

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at In Style 4 Now!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Mitchell Mafuso is a lanky, sneaky brigand a few years younger than me. I met him when he was wet behind the ears at time traveling and jockeying for a position ahead of his older siblings. This ambitious attempt to rise in power led to his downfall. When he’d been captured, they forced him to turn over his time-traveling key in return for a slap on the wrist. He should have at least done cell time, but my opinion doesn't matter when it comes to punishment.

  I’m Jennifer Cloud, transporter for the World Travel Federation, or what I like to call the WTF. I was perfectly content in my job as an assistant shoe buyer for a well-known designer until the moon gods thought it would be funny to throw some bad karma my way. My boss was arrested for tax evasion, my job was incinerated, and I began working for my brother, Eli, at his chiropractic office.

  The moon gods weren't satisfied with ruining my life. The gods added hilarity to injury when they activated my genetic gift of time travel. A gift I accidentally discovered my senior year in high school when I arrived in the year 1568 wearing a kilt and a pair of loafers. It didn’t take me long to figure out I wasn’t in Texas anymore. It also didn’t take long for the handsome Scot I met to romance my socks off.

  The gods kept me in the dark about the inner workings of time travel until the WTF found me a few years ago. Now, I moonlight for them by transporting bad guys, or what they call brigands. These nasty brigands go back and try to screw up the past. I’m a sidekick to the traveler who catches these brigands, also known as my defender. At the moment I have two of these. Caiyan McGregor and Marco Ferrari.

  Call it luck or bad timing, I have two gorgeous men who round up the brigands and summon me to transport for them, and a third man who keeps me in line. A girl should be so lucky right? Thinking about the classified sector of my life and the men that turn it upside down makes my palms sweat and my heart rate go up.

  My secret identity became easier to manage when Eli found out he also had the gift. Inheriting the gene for time travel wasn’t an easy thing for my brother to understand, but he took it in stride, refused to join the WTF, and buried the gift deep inside himself. I couldn’t say I blamed him. He spent years studying to be a doctor, and spending the weekend chasing bad guys makes it difficult to keep your eyes open on Monday morning. Nonetheless, he covers for me at the office and at Sunday dinner with my parents.

  I sipped my Starbucks vanilla bean latte and read the file in my lap as I waited for Mitchell to exit his terminal. He spent his time between an apartment in New York City’s Greenwich Village and the multimillion-dollar Hampton mansion owned by his thieving family of time travelers. I flipped the page, perused photos of his home, places he liked to hang out, and a black and white mugshot from his last arrest. His picture was a few years old and resembled Justin Bieber in his
Never Say Never days. I knew through the grapevine Mitchell had graduated high school, barely, and worked for his father’s so-called export business. His father may be Mafia connected, but his grandfather was the one who made my knees tremble.

  The thing about time travel is it normally skips a generation, and the family members in between are unaware their kids go flitting through time under the guidance of a grandparent. In Mitchell's case, his grandfather was Gian-Carlo Mafuso. Not only was he a prominent Mafia boss, but he ruled his time-traveling grandchildren with the fist of Don Corleone.

  A photo of Mitchell’s back showed a tattoo of a cobra with glowing yellow eyes. The snake’s head perched on his left upper back, hood spread, forked tongue extruding from the mouth hinged open and ready to sink sharp teeth into its prey. The body of the snake slithered down his spine and coiled around the bottom of his shoulder blade. Creepy. Apparently the Mafusos didn't have the same restrictions on tattoos as the WTF.

  Normally, I wouldn’t give a rat’s behind about Mitchell, but my boss at the WTF ordered me to follow him today. Mitchell took the 7 a.m. flight to Dallas instead of doing a lateral travel in his vessel. Lateral travel was the bomb. I could travel anywhere, anytime in the present.

  Every traveler has a vessel powered by a combination of a moonstone key and the genetic gift within themselves. My vessel came in the form of a rusty old outhouse given to me by my great-aunt Elma Jean Cloud—another jab in the ribs from the gods. My coworkers have way cooler rides than mine. The vessels must remain confidential, a difficult task for some whose vessels don’t exactly match the era of travel. If a brigand gets his hands on a key, they can’t do much with it if they don’t know the traveler’s vessel. It’s like a having the key to a car, but without the luxury of walking through a parking lot beeping the remote to see what it unlocks.

  Since this was my neck of the woods, the WTF chose me to do the recon. My orders were to follow at a safe distance, find out where he was going, and why he flew first class to Dallas. Admittedly, following a brigand in secret made me feel like James Bond or Batman. My boss, Special Agent Jake McCoy, would put me in the category of Maxwell Smart because he was sure the brigand would make me. Jake still considered me a newbie at time travel and didn’t have much faith in my stealth abilities. I admit, I’ve had a few minor setbacks in my quest to become a transporter, but Jake keeps testing me. He has fellow travelers on standby in case I need help. Whatever.

 

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