“What am I, your bleedin’ bellhop? And why do I get the couch?”
“You’re holding the cases, ain’t ya?” Frank pointed out. “Anna I’d done all the drivin’.”
“Oi, like driving an hour outta New York is really strenuous. Try riding that distance on horseback.”
“Don’t like horses,” Frank remarked as he left.
On his way out, he heard Baxter saying, “You still ain’t learned how to drive? Hells bells, Isaac, my eleven-year-old niece knows how to drive.”
Frank chuckled low in his throat.
He was about to collect the last boxes from the trunk when something moved. He saw it from the corner of his eye. He shot up and reached under his jacket for his gun. He eyed the icy woods. He waited and listened for any sound.
Frank was no fool, even if he acted like one at times. Beyond the money and the women, he understood the dangerous life he led and all the gritty surprises that waited around every corner. Even out here in the forest, someone like Leon Clark or Violetta Romano’s goons could be lurking about. Maybe even the bull.
After a few moments had ticked by with nothing happening, Frank retrieved the rest of the boxes.
Kayden watched from the tree branch she was perched on as the large human entered the cabin. Her excitement had caused her to get too close and she’d nearly been seen. Although that didn’t matter to her, she still wanted this hunt to be between her and Pierce and devoid of any interference.
Traveling through time had left her needing to recuperate.
The moment she had exited the wormhole, she plummeted straight down toward the frigid ocean. She used her ability to vanish and reappear closer to the water rather than crashing into it from the great height. It was the only thing that saved her. The mist had left her weaker than she’d believed it would, and she was unable to transport herself very far, so she did small skips through the air until she hit the water. As she’d descended, she’d spied a city in the distance, and once she’d landed, she vanished and reappeared several times as she headed toward land until the cold water cut into her core, stopping her from vanishing any farther. She’d had to swim to shore, almost drowning more than once.
Kayden had managed to stay out of sight as she traveled through this new metropolis. It had fast moving machines and strange objects in the sky. She eventually found a sanctuary called Central Park, where she hunted for small game and rested amongst the treetops. From one of the tallest trees, she surveyed the city. It seemed never-ending, which was most likely why the Trickster god had brought Pierce there. Kayden assumed little fox was somewhere in the urban area where he could hide among thousands of his own kind. She didn’t suspect the god would be with him. If he had gone through the trouble of traveling through time, he probably wanted to plant Pierce somewhere where he could come for him later. And come for him, he would, for based on what the mare had told her, the boy would have to be returned to his rightful era in order to be killed by the witch. Kayden needed to act quickly before the god returned or she’d lose little fox forever.
To search among the people without drawing attention, Kayden helped herself to a long fur coat and hat from a department store during the night. After a day of rest, the wild elf continued with her hunt, starting from the tall statue of the woman standing upon an island, her torch raised high.
Kayden suspected the Trickster would have come here. While the wild elf stood upon the torch, she searched it by touch. Her instincts proved correct. The god had stood where she was at that moment. He didn’t have the boy with him, though. Instead, he was looking out toward the city. It was night, and everything had been aglow with burning energy fuel. The Trickster left and she followed.
He could have vanished, but he was apparently storing up his strength. When he landed, the god strolled onward through an area trimmed in festive décor. The Trickster arrived at a building now ravaged by a fire. The upstairs had been completely burnt up. Parts of the roof had collapsed and the skylight had been shattered. The room had been utterly gutted by flames and was now unrecognizable. In the building’s last moments, though, Kayden saw the Trickster speaking to none other than little fox. Through their brief conversation, she learned the god hadn’t come for the little fox after all, which gave her great relief.
A siege had occurred, and people had tried to flee. Pierce had started the fire before escaping through a hidden passageway. The elf followed him up a ladder and to the roof. The unsteady rooftop nearly caused Kayden to fall over. She watched as Pierce and the other humans scaled down the building and entered one of those fast-moving machines.
Now, the real chase began. To prevent the connecting thread she had from being broken, Kayden needed to stay close to little fox’s echo. Following the thoroughfare where the wheels of the machine had touched, she ran down the street. People who saw her gawked in shock at witnessing a woman in a heavy fur coat running down the middle of the road, leaping over any moving machine in her path. The chase eventually led her to an eating place and then to the home of a man named Kelly Quinn. Pierce spoke to him about rebuilding his business.
Kayden then followed Pierce to his small dwelling. When she arrived, she found he was not home. As she waited, she discovered a manmade mantis. It tried to act like a figurine, but Kayden sensed the life within it—a life given by a once powerful being. The thing was unnatural and made her feel uneasy.
When little fox’s echo finally left his dwelling, Kayden followed him, and the humans he went with, to an abandoned building where they spoke about many things, including a cabin. She returned to Pierce’s apartment and decided to wait until the real man arrived. After hours of waiting, she used her blade to carve two lines with arrow tips on either end crisscrossing each other into the wall beside the bed. It was the old spelling of her family’s name, and she’d carved it into every weapon she had ever created.
She mulled over what she’d learned about the cabin in the forest that was east of the city. It took her only a day to locate it. The human living there was one she recognized as the man with the mechanical arm from the burning building. Searching through the echo, she learned that Pierce would return. In fact, he had a couple of times already. He had stated to the incomplete human with the robotic arm exactly when he’d come by again.
Kayden decided to wait, and soon a mechanical carriage arrived. There, in the flesh, was Pierce Landcross.
Now, it came down to the right time to claim her prize.
That night, the wild elf observed him through the windows as he played a card game with those men.
“Call,” the human with the missing arm named George said with one of those foul smelling smoking sticks hanging from his mouth.
The large male, Frank, put down his cards. “Fold.”
Pierce looked again at his hand for a while.
“C’mon, Isaac,” George urged.
Pierce took a drink from a glass jar. “Right.”
George smiled at his cards and threw them down. “Full house, boys!”
“Fuckin’ hell,” little fox moaned.
To Kayden’s amazement, a section of the winning human’s mechanical arm extended outward toward a pile of money, coins, and more foul smelling smoking sticks. Never in all her years had she seen such a thing. Were it he that she was hunting, no doubt she would have claimed his artificial arm as a trophy.
“Seems to me I won’t be worrying ’bout smokes, after all.”
“Tosser,” Pierce griped, plucking a smoking stick off the table.
“That’s mine!” George stated.
“Consider it a loan, eh?” little fox said before lighting its end.
He then admired the metal object that had produced the fire almost fondly.
“Youze lookin’ at dat lighter like youze ain’t ever seen one before, Chaplin,” Frank observed.
“Well, he is from the last century,” George remarked unexpectedly.
Little fox snapped his head up, his eyes wide. “Come again?”
The incomplete human laughed and got up from his seat. “While I’ve been up here all by my lonesome, I’ve been rummaging through the attic. Dunno how long Mr. Quinn had this place—”
“It’s been in his family since his father built it after emigrating from Ireland,” Pierce informed him.
“All right.” George shrugged. “Anyway, there’s a whole mess of things up ’ere.”
He grabbed a book from a small table that stood in the corner of the room between an armchair and the couch.
“Youze better not let de boss know you’re up dere messin’ ’round with dat stuff of his, youze crazy hick,” the large crooked-nosed male warned as he shuffled the cards.
Pierce took another drink from his jar and eyed the book. “What is it?”
“Open it,” George ordered, tossing it onto the table. “Where I done dog-eared it.”
Pierce picked it up. It appeared to be heavily damaged.
Little fox suddenly became edgy after reading the title.
“The Adventures of . . . Pierce Landcross,” he recited.
Kayden cocked her head curiously.
“Youze recognize the name?” Frank asked him.
Pierce took a few beats to answer. Kayden could sense his shock through the window. “Er. No.”
“Go on,” George urged. “Open it.”
Pierce did so. Kayden was unable to see what he was looking at clearly, but it appeared to be one of those images that some human had done of themselves.
“Bloody hell,” little fox gasped.
Frank snatched the book away. “Lemme see.”
He studied the book, turning his attention to Pierce and then back to the page. “It’s the spittin’ image of you, Chaplin.”
“I know,” George agreed. “Strange, ain’t it? I reckon he’s a relative of yours.”
“Dere’s more pictures on da next page,” Frank informed them. “Dey’re stuck.”
He tried pulling the pages apart, a ripping noise coming from a page.
“Don’t, you big mook!” the incomplete human shouted. “Didn’t nobody ever tell you that paper is liable to rip?”
Pierce stood.
“What are you fixin’ to do?” George asked him.
“I’m fixin’ to check in on the stew, Tin Man,” he retorted.
“I hate it that you gave me that nickname. Now everyone calls me Tin Man.”
“Bloody hell. Sorry, mate,” little fox said, stabbing his cigarette out in the ashtray. “Are you cranky ’cause you lost your oil can or something?”
The incomplete man took a step toward little fox, who then darted into the kitchen. Kayden went to the front porch and to the only window in that room. Little fox stirred the stew while holding a very worried and bewildered expression on his pretty face. She would need to have a look into the book for herself.
She waited until Pierce fell asleep and then stood over him with her blade in hand. He was lying on his back, his head turned away, exposing a scar across this throat. Kayden was tempted to add to it. The thrill of it all washed over her. Could she actually do it? Could she take a life protected by the Fates? Her untamable nature granted her liberation from having to obey such old laws, but it still didn’t mean it could be done.
She crouched down and looked through his traveling case where he’d put the book. The tome was badly tattered. It had been published in 1847. She assumed it was a story written about him before he traveled through time, but there were photographs inside that showed Pierce as an older man. There was also a dark-skinned woman who appeared in a standalone photograph and in another one with him. Was she his mate? It mattered not if the book was a glimpse into his future; that was all about to change.
However, it didn’t seem right to take him so easily after such a long and exhausting hunt. After all, she’d traveled through time to kill this boy, nearly dying just to get to him. Why not have a spot of fun before ending it all?
She opted to wait.
She would slay the other two if they interfered, and she’d do so with ease since no human was attached to Fate threads here. Something that she had sensed when she’d arrived. Why the Fates had abandoned their duties was inconsequential to Kayden. It simply made things more convenient.
However, she didn’t need to waste her energy on the others, for in the morning, little fox stepped outside alone. She approached him with the bow and arrows that she’d crafted overnight, her family’s name carved into the recurve. She was ready for a good chase.
After putting a box into the back of the mechanical carriage and closing it, Pierce saw her and jumped. To him, she must have looked very intimidating. He started backing away, breathing heavily and looking petrified. He wore no jacket or coat, which proved he had no weapon on him.
Perfect.
“Haven’t you ever seen an elf before?” she asked, continuing her steady approach.
Pierce nearly slipped on the snow when he stepped off the lane. “I believe you’re my first.”
She grinned widely, bearing her spiky white teeth at him.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m one of your cousins.”
His body sagged with relief. “Oh,”
He must think he’s safe. What a naïve child he is.
“I’ve gone through a lot to track you down. It took a while to figure out that they had brought you to another time.”
“Tracking me? Why?”
“To kill you, of course.”
The boy’s demeanor stiffened. “You were sent by the mare, eh?”
She nodded. “Since you have been a trial to hunt down, I deem you worthy of a head start.” In a blink, she withdrew a bolt from her quiver and fixed it in her bow, aiming it at him. “You have thirty seconds.”
Pierce stared at her before hurrying toward the house. She was quick and leaped into his path. “Uh-uh, little fox. Into the forest, you go.”
She watched him dart off into the forest. She already knew where he would head—around the house and then inside for his weapon. Predictable.
As Pierce made his way toward the rear of the house, Kayden pounced.
“Got you!” she yelled, grabbing him and tossing him and herself down an embankment.
Her aim was to get him away from the cabin where she could extend the hunt. She wanted to toy with him, make him fearful while constantly offering a shimmer of hope that he’d make it out alive. Eventually, she would grow tired of the game and end it. Kayden would then cut off whatever part of him she so desired as a trophy and then explore this new era.
Before they reached the bottom, she let go. After the boy came to a rest and quickly sprang to his feet, he searched around dizzily for her.
“You’re fun,” Kayden said, catching his attention. “I like this game.”
He snarled and armed himself with a fallen branch.
He’s got spirit. Not the sort to beg, I see.
She fixed another bolt and let it lose. The arrow hit its mark, penetrating right through the branch.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he exclaimed fretfully.
She had another arrow ready and pulled the string back tight. “Start running, little fox.”
His fearful expression turned angry. He seemed to grasp what she was doing. He threw the branch away. “I’m not running anymore. You want to do me in? Then do it.”
He spread his arms out to show her he was serious.
Heaviness pressed upon her chest. She lowered her bow. “Pity. I looked forward to playing around with you some more.”
If he’s not going to play along, then I’ll just put my arrow into his heart.
She had raised her weapon when another bolt flew past her face, ruining her shot and sending hers whizzing by Pierce’s ear.
“Shite!” Pierce shouted, falling over.
There are others here!
In the snowy woods, elves were aiming their arrows and firing. Thinking fast, she guarded herself with her own bow, letting it take each bolt as it came�
��except for one. The instant the onslaught ended, she vanished.
The arrow in her side prevented Kayden from traveling more than a few miles. She found a place in the treetops where she could pull the bolt out of her body and toss it. The wound was bad, but she would recover from it if treated properly. It wasn’t the first time she’d suffered a hit this severe.
Kayden took a moment to sit on a branch. While pulling the arrow out, the jagged arrowhead had caught on her rib, which had caused her an incredible amount of pain.
“Kayden,” called a strong voice.
She knew that elf.
“I know you’re here,” Durothil called as he neared the tree. However, he wasn’t entirely sure where she was hiding. “I can smell your blood.”
Kayden crouched so she could see the old elf clearly approaching her far below. She fixed an arrow in her bow.
“Stay where you are, Durothil,” she warned.
He did and tilted his chin up at her.
“You shall not have him, Kayden of the Wild Elf. The mare has sent you on a fruitless quest.”
“How do you know about the mare?” she demanded.
Warm blood trickled from her deep wound. She needed to bandage it before the blood loss caused her to fall—assuming the pain didn’t do that first.
“I spoke to Pierce many years after he returned to his own time. The witch has gotten ‘The Story of the Priest’ wrong. There is no threat in letting him live. Do you understand?”
Kayden thought briefly about the book she’d seen last night. Granted, it had forced her to rethink the hunt. In fact, she had questioned what the mare had told her. Still, she had gone through so much to find her quarry, and the challenge to kill him had become the greatest pursuit she’d ever had. No, she wouldn’t renounce the time and precious energy she’d spent over a misunderstanding. Whether the mare’s tale was true or not, Kayden wasn’t going to let it go so easily.
“I don’t care about the story,” she declared, pulling the string back even more. “I’ve come for Pierce Landcross, and I shall not stop until his blood is on the blade of my knife.”
The bloodlust in her grew with her words. She was a huntress, after all, a predator that abided by no rules. To have anyone attempt to throw a leash around her and try to hold her back from her desires only intensified her need to go on.
Boom Time Page 28