Silver Storm: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 2

by Michele Callahan

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  Tim held Sarah steady with one arm around her waist and pulled his pack closer with the other. He unzipped it and made sure his gun, knife, and cell phone were all within easy reach as he scanned the beach, the sky, and the ground around them continuously.

  Sarah’s body was like a live wire in his arms, buzzing against his senses with a constant flow of energy. Good news was his back and arms weren’t tired, the energy seemed to feed straight into his body so he wouldn’t tire, no matter how long he sat there. The bad news was he couldn’t let go of Sarah to move around. They were sitting ducks and his instincts were screaming at him to get the hell out of there.

  Hell of a time for his dormant alarm system to kick back on.

  “Sarah.” He spoke against her ear, hoping she would hear him, but knew it was futile. She was after something. He’d felt her attention shift, narrow, and focus on it a couple minutes ago. He wished like hell he was telepathic or something so he’d know what was going on with her. But no, all he got was this vague sense of dread and tightening in his gut.

  “Sarah, come back to me. We need to get out of here.”

  The hair on the back of his neck rose and goose flesh broke out on his arms. Final warning. He could sense a van moving toward them from the south. Someone was coming for her.

  As quickly as he could he scooted out from behind her and settled her on her back on the blanket. He took one of her hands and did his best to wrap her fingers around his ankle as he crouched beside her. He scanned the shoreline for a place to hide but knew it was futile. Whoever was coming at them was tracking Sarah by energy, not by sight. Hiding behind a bush would be like hiding a steak from a dog and counting on him not to smell it.

  Nowhere to hide. Maybe he could carry her to the truck and outrun them.

  What he needed was for little miss lightning bolt to wake up and zap their van into next week.

  “Sarah, come on. I need you back here.” Tim shook her shoulder and felt a faint stirring in his mind, but she quickly left him with the sense that she was doing something important and couldn’t come back right now.

  It was like getting a psychic answering machine…Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can…

  No matter. He didn’t want to have to fire his weapon on the unknown people coming their way, but he would if he had to. Blow a couple tires and he could outrun them, at least for now.

  That thought in mind, he swung his pack over his shoulder and, gun in hand, scooped Sarah up off the ground to run for the truck.

  Too late.

  A chopper approached from the southeast, heading straight for them.

  “Sarah!”

  Again all he got from her was a “not now” vibe. “Shit.”

  The loud roar of the helicopter got closer and the wind from the blades tugged at his clothing, sent Sarah’s hair into a soft sway where it dangled from her unconscious form. He couldn’t outrun or out-drive a chopper, and he wasn’t willing to kill a fellow soldier without cause.

  So, good news was the chopper was U.S. Military. Bad news was, when he looked down he saw the horrible light of a laser sight hovering on her chest.

  Tim froze and shook his head as the screeching wheels of the van reached his ears, followed by the sounds of doors and several people moving in on his position.

  A woman came into view first. Nearly as tall as Sarah, she had dark brown hair and eyes. She was slim, elegant, dressed like an uptight corporate executive in a navy business suit and white shirt. She held both hands up to assure him she posed no threat, frowned and waved off the helicopter.

  To his surprise the laser sight vanished and the chopper backed off far enough for them to have a conversation without shouting.

  The woman yelled across the twenty yards separating them. “Please put the gun down, sir. We just want to talk to you.”

  Yeah, right. He’d heard that one before.

  Tim glanced over his shoulder at the chopper and the sniper patiently watching him through his scope. The woman and whoever else she’d brought along were between him and the truck, and Sarah was, for all intents and purposes, comatose.

  He didn’t really have any options. The sniper on his ass and the woman in his arms made sure of that.

  “Throw down your weapon, sir.”

  Tim opened his fingers and allowed the pistol to fall to the ground at his feet.

  The woman took a step toward him and signaled behind her. Three men walked into view, all armed to the teeth.

  Tim hugged Sarah closer and leaned in close to her ear. “Don’t come back yet. Stay gone until we know what we’re dealing with here.”

  He didn’t know if she heard him or not, but she didn't move or open her eyes.

  “Timothy Daniel Tucker. The Prophet. Why am I not surprised to find you here?” The man who spoke pulled his hat and mic from his head to reveal a face Tim had hoped never to see again.

  “Walter.” Tim glared at the man he and his team had simply referred to as “The Weasel” and waited. The Rear Admiral’s involvement eased Tim’s worry over being killed outright, but roused the primitive animal inside him. The man was a liar and master manipulator. He was also freakishly intelligent and so high up the food chain everyone knew The Weasel answered directly to Sec-Nav.

  Shit. Maybe they knew about Chicago after all. “Why are you here?”

  “That’s a question for you, Tucker. What are you and this lovely lady doing out here?” The Rear Admiral glanced at the tall brunette beside him and she gave the barest hint of a nod before zeroing her gaze in on the still unconscious woman in his arms.

  “Just enjoying the sunset. My date had a bit too much to drink. We were headed home when you arrived.”

  “We can help you out with that. Why don’t you and your…date come with us? We have a few questions for you.” The Weasel swept his arm back toward the waiting van and Tim calculated the odds of making a run for it. His muscles hummed with energy, like he could run with Sarah in his arms forever and not feel a twinge of exhaustion or pain.

  But there was the chopper, the sniper, the brunette’s intense gaze, and the two men fanned out from their position to block any attempts at making a theatrical exit. This wasn’t the movies, and if those two brutes shot at him, they wouldn’t miss. If by some miracle they did, there was another asshole in the driver’s seat of the van.

  On the other hand, with this crew it had to be a legit operation, and that meant the jerk had to abide by certain rules. “Thanks, anyway, but I think we’ll pass. We aren’t breaking any laws, just minding our own business, having a bit of a picnic.”

  The female stepped forward. “You pointed a loaded weapon at me, hotshot. You have a permit for that gun?”

  “Yes. I do.” Tim jerked his head in the direction of the helicopter. “Do you have a permit for assassinating a U.S. citizen?”

  The weasel crossed his arms. “Let’s not get cute, here, Tucker. I don’t know why you’re here with her, but we both know she’s coming with me.”

  “I disagree. We haven’t broken any laws. I’m a U.S. citizen in a public park. You have no grounds to take us in.” Tim shifted around, placing his back squarely between the sniper and Sarah’s body. They wanted Sarah. Why? What did this asshole know?

  “I’m taking her in. You can set her down and walk away, or you can get in the van and come with us. Those are you’re only two options.”

  “Why do you want her?”

  Silence greeted his question, until the woman spoke again. “You know why.” The wind whipped up all around her like a miniature tornado and electricity sparked between her hands and her thighs.

  Shit. She was like Sarah. What the fuck was going on here?

  “Enough, Commander.” The Rear Admiral waved his hand at her and she took a step back before turning her face away. The wind died down and Tim released a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Let’s not play games, Tucker. This isn’t a standard military op. This is
my unit, and as the Commander demonstrated, we don’t play by anyone’s rules. You can come with me, or I can kill you and take her. No one will miss you, Tim. But it’s your choice.”

  “All right. But you don’t fucking touch her. Give me your word.”

  The Rear Admiral snorted, and Tim was considering his options until the female stepped up, stopping within arm’s reach. “No one will hurt her. I give you my word.”

  Tim looked her in the eye, soldier to soldier, and she meant it. That didn’t mean the Weasel wouldn’t take her down, too, if she got in his way, but that was the female’s problem. “You need to fucking wake up and realize who you’re working for, sweetheart.”

  She raised an eyebrow, clearly out of platitudes. Trusting the woman wasn’t ideal, in fact, the entire situation sucked, but it was the best he was going to get. He had to stay alive and protect Sarah long enough for her to wake up and fry the bastards.

  Tim walked slowly behind the Commander, carrying Sarah to the waiting vehicle and climbed inside with her head nestled against his neck. He hoped like hell she’d stay gone for a while. He wouldn’t tell them anything. Hell, maybe he could gather some intel of his own. If they got nasty, he could take it. It would be hell, but he’d been drugged, beaten, and put through it with these assholes before. He was more sure now than ever before that is was the Casper Project who’d captured him. They could fuck with him. He’d survive. Sarah was a different story.

  If they hurt Sarah, he’d find a way to kill every single one of them.

  The woman slid into the passenger seat and the two goons from the beach sat one on his right and one behind him with a pistol pointed at the base of his skull in case he decided to get cute. The driver started the engine and the Rear Admiral slid onto the empty bench seat directly behind the driver. Goon number one slid the door closed and Tim sat back in silence, completely ignoring the final two men who had mysteriously appeared and filed into the cargo area behind the third bench seat. It appeared the Rear Admiral didn’t want to talk in front of his men, so he had some time to figure out how the hell they’d found Sarah.

  As if in answer to the unspoken question the brunette’s eyes shifted back over her shoulder to study Sarah’s face and he saw a flash of recognition in the woman’s too serious eyes. She glanced to his face, then quickly away. Whatever she’d seen had surprised her, but she didn’t say a word as they rode to God knows where.

  Had she actually recognized Sarah? Shit. This wasn’t good at all.

  Chapter Ten

  Sarah hovered over the beach, energy coiled and ready to strike should anyone make a move to hurt Tim. She could take out the helicopter in a heartbeat if she needed to, but she hesitated to kill these guys. They were obviously U.S. government and Tim appeared to know this Walter character personally. Best not to kill innocent people, especially soldiers like Tim who were, hopefully, the good guys.

  Tim warned her not to come back into her body yet. She toyed with the idea of zapping them all unconscious with a jolt of electrical current to the brain, but she was about blowing ships out of the sky and throwing large energy webs over thousands of beings so one small child could disappear in a crowd of thousands of souls, not small, controlled surgical strikes. She’d have to practice in case this kind of situation ever came up again, but she wasn’t willing to lobotomize these people for wanting to talk. Maybe they’d have some information about the Triscani or the attack. And she wanted to talk to Katherine, find out how she’d been surfing the skies with her. So she waited, and listened as they talked Tim into the van.

  He carried her cradled against his chest with tenderness, shifting to make sure her limbs weren’t hanging at uncomfortable angles and her face was protected from the scrutiny of the strangers confronting him. He couldn’t know she watched his every move and could feel his determination to protect her. He was fierce and fearless. And he was hers.

  She loosened the lockdown she’d had on her emotions and admitted to herself that she loved him. He might not love her back, might never love her back, but that became irrelevant. She loved him. She’d melt the brain of anyone who laid a finger on him, practice or no practice.

  Freed by the thought, her spirit laughed and she watched Tim stiffen in his seat and shake his head as if he heard her and disagreed with her assessment of the situation.

  Sarah zeroed in on the energy pulsing from his Mark and used it to trickle a thought into his head and a tingling caress to his cock. Don’t worry, baby. If they touch you, I’ll melt their brains.

  He smiled, shifted in his seat again and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. She wished she could feel it, and his arms as they tightened around her, but the grin on his face was enough.

  Joy flooded her as she realized she wasn’t alone anymore. Never again. He was hers, and she’d lie, cheat, steal, or kill to protect him. If these people thought they were going to prevent her from accomplishing her mission, they were in for a big surprise. She had a little over twenty-four hours until the attack on Chicago. She was going to assume that the child was in the area, and the reason behind the attack. She needed to find out more about these people, what they knew, and Katherine’s particular talent. Maybe the woman could help when the time came? If she were a gung-ho soldier type, it was probably safe to assume Katherine would be willing to fight to save the lives of roughly nine million civilians.

  If she could be trusted with the truth. That was a very big if.

  They got caught in traffic caused by an accident and spent several hours heading east out of the city. They drove into an underground parking garage at Fermilab to Tim’s whispered, “Why am I not surprised?”

  Sarah’s soul buzzed with the masses of energy coming from the collider. Oh, yes, she’d have to be careful now. That kind of power would allow her to vaporize Lake Michigan with a snap of her fingers. What the hell were they thinking, playing God with that kind of energy?

  Tim stoically went where they told him to go and carried her to a windowless room with a large metal desk and four plain, armless chairs that looked like they belonged at a high school assembly. One was behind the desk, two in front of it, and one against the bare white wall a few inches from the door. She guessed that was where the guy with the gun would sit.

  Fat lot of good a gun would do them if they touched her man.

  They shoved Tim inside and locked the door, left them alone for a couple of hours while they sat in front of their computer monitors like vultures, hoping she’d wake up, hoping she and Tim would be stupid enough to talk in the room and give them more information. What idiots.

  Finally, the jerks gave up and headed down the hallway. The leader, Walter, was joined by two well-armed soldiers with really big guns. He opened the door and waltzed into the room with Tim like a king entering a dungeon. He really thought he was in charge. Tim stood between her body and the invaders, protecting her, and again she considered frying the creep’s brain into mush.

  Cold-blooded murder didn’t appeal. Darn it, anyway.

  “Sit, Tim.” Walter indicated the chair next to the one her unconscious body slumped in, but Tim didn’t move.

  “Get comfortable. Please. I just want to talk to you and the girl. I’ve got some questions and we’re all on the same team, here. Aren’t we?” Walter returned to the hallway, door open but leaving goon number one behind. “I’ll bring you some coffee while my guys check you for weapons. Then we’ll sit down and have a civilized conversation. All right?”

  The door closed and locked the three of them inside.

  “I’ve got to check you for weapons, sir.”

  “You’ve got my pack. Knife in the bag. And I hope like hell you picked up the gun I dropped on the beach. I’m not armed.” Tim’s voice was devoid of emotion.

  “I’ve still got to pat you down, sir.”

  “Fine.”

  “I need to check her as well. I need you to step away, sir.” There was no apology in the man’s voice, just a statement of fact.

&nbs
p; “Not going to happen.” Tim shook his head and waited for the man to make his decision.

  “I’m sorry, those are my orders.”

  Tim put his arms loosely at his sides and waited like a coiled cobra, kept his leg just barely pressed to hers. “You will not touch her.”

  The big man eyed Tim’s stance and the tone of his voice. “I don’t want to fight you, sir. I’m just following orders.”

  “Then tell the fucking Rear Admiral I said I’d kill you if you touched her. How’s that for an order?”

  The big man grinned and backed to the door, amusement, not fear in his eyes. “May I quote you on that, Captain?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The door buzzed and the grinning fool opened and closed it behind him followed by the electronic lock that buzzed and clicked into place. Two cameras were located on the walls with a clear view of the room from both directions. Small fry. Sarah zapped them until their cords were smoking inside the walls and no more energy flowed along the wires connecting them to the spies sitting in front of their computer monitors. Tim didn’t step away, and she was glad for the grounding touch of his leg against hers as she overloaded the monitors and their hard drives next, enjoying the loud pop as their surge protectors blew and the insides of their machines melted. With a decisive bolt of energy, she took control of the lock on the closed door so no one could interrupt them. Satisfied, she finally settled back into her body.

  Her eyelids felt heavy, but she forced them open and tipped her head back to take in the strong jaw and stubborn profile of the man standing over her like a guard.

  “Hi.”

  Tim met her gaze and the heat she saw there nearly robbed her of breath. “Hi.” He bent over and planted a too brief kiss on her lips. “Don’t say anything, we’re in a holding room and there are cameras and mics recording everything we do or say.”

  “I fried them.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug.

  “You did?” His arms came around her immediately, as if he hated the separation as much as she did.

  “Yep.” She snuggled her face into his neck, and inhaled the scent of his skin, ran her hands along the back of his neck and up over his bare head, over the intense ridges and angles of his scar and the sensual heat of the Mark buried within it. “Locked the door, too. They can’t get in and they can’t see or hear us. We are very much alone…”