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Time Warper: Fated, A Sage Hannigan Novel

Page 8

by Peggy Martinez

Chapter Seven

  THE NEXT DAY, I found myself with a little free time before I had to go to Mrs. Howell’s class, so I went for a walk around the small courtyard and garden, glad to be outdoors after so many days of being cooped up inside. It was a beautiful day, and it seemed so peaceful and quiet compared to the city I was used to. Sure, there were noises of people bustling about and life flowing around me, but it was different—more muted. The air seemed a bit fresher, and life seemed a lot less rushed than in the twenty-first century.

  I found a little stone bench in an alcove of the wall surrounding the courtyard. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled the rich, heady scent of the overhanging magnolia tree warming in the sunshine and sat on the bench, letting the warmth of the day seep into my own skin, too. My worries slowly faded into the back of my mind, and I relaxed for the first time in days. I guessed I’d have to be content with visiting this spot for the next few weeks to keep from going stir-crazy indoors since I wasn’t going to be able to go out in public for a while—all part of the big plan. I sighed.

  I was going to be training hard for the next few weeks to prepare myself for my warper duties. At the moment, I didn’t feel powerful or destined to do anything but survive. No, most of the time I felt like myself, an eighteen-year-old girl—a little scared and a lot uncertain. I shook my head. Instead of being myself, here I was, in training to join members of a secret government society to save the future I held dear.

  Cerberus’ plan was quite simple, really. I would train and keep hidden so I could take on the persona of a young widow who needed employment to help make ends meet. Evidently, I was going to let it slip to the gossip mills that I was hunting for a husband. I grimaced at the thought of men courting me while I had so much going on, but they told me it would make my entire cover more believable. I also couldn’t be tied to Mrs. Howell and the other Cerberus members, which meant I had to become a very convincing young woman from 1904. Once accomplished, I would wiggle myself into the employ and good graces of one of the oldest and most powerful vampires in the city.

  Before my garden walk this morning, I’d had the good sense to finally ask Travis what kind of position Soren needed filled. Evidently, the vampire had a soft spot for pretty young women reading to him every night and attending public outings with him. I had thought Travis was joking, and I’d laughed so hard I had tears running down my face—until I realized he was serious. Then, I’d laughed even harder. I mean, seriously? A big, scary-ass vampire who liked to be read bedtime stories?

  When Travis had reminded me of the danger of the situation, I quickly sobered. Soren might share my love of reading, but he was also strong enough to snap my neck with one hand if he thought he was being betrayed or spied on. I’d be “pretty safe,” though—at least, that’s what Travis had said.

  As safe as one can be while working for a monster, I’d thought.

  I would have to watch my every step and word if I ever wanted to get back home… if I ever wanted to make it out of this mess alive.

  A shadow fell over me. I snapped my head up and sprang to my feet. I must have been dozing because I hadn’t heard anyone approach. My heart skipped a beat when I found myself staring into Dr. Blake’s scarred face, and I’m pretty sure my fluttering heart had nothing to do with being startled.

  “Miss Hannigan, it seems Mrs. Howell is on a rampage looking for you,” he announced dryly.

  Holy crap! What time was it?

  He smirked. “From what I gathered, you missed your class with her, and she was muttering something about women from the future being ill-mannered, stubborn, and uncooperative.”

  I sat back down, biting back a groan. I hadn’t meant to miss her wretched class. Much to my shock, Dr. Blake sat down on the bench beside me so closely I could smell his unique scent of musk, fresh herbs, and honey.

  “Thank you, Dr. Blake. I didn’t realize I’d been out here that long. I needed some time to think in the fresh air, but the sun relaxed me too much.” I smiled over at him.

  The wind blew faintly around us, ruffling strands of hair out of my loose braid and into my face. He reached over and tucked a strand behind my ear. I sucked in a breath as his fingers skimmed my cheek and behind my ear, over the mark of Amerach. I felt a fluttering deep in my stomach, and my breathing became shallow. Biting my lip, I looked into his face to see if I could decipher what I saw there.

  The strangest string of emotions crossed his face, as if he were fighting within himself.

  My heart was pounding erratically now, and I felt a little lightheaded. That’s the only explanation I could come up with for what happened next—that I was dizzy and a bit delusional.

  I felt slightly weightless, as if I could let go of reality and float away like a wayward balloon by looking into Dr. Blake’s eyes. The air shimmered around him, kind of like the fumes in the air when you’re pumping gas into your car. Everything became a bit hazy, but instead of becoming blurry, Dr. Blake’s face came into sharper focus. His skin seemed to shine, almost glow, and his eyes were an even more brilliant blue than usual. His skin shimmered and looked sun-kissed. I wanted to press myself against him just to see if it would rub off on me.

  His scent exploded in my nostrils as I inhaled, and I found myself wondering if a lick of his skin would taste like warm honey. I might have tested out my theory, since I had leaned completely into his personal space, if Dr. Blake hadn’t jumped up with a look of horror on his face.

  What the hell? I shook my head and swayed a little.

  Dr. Blake cleared his throat and asked softly, “Sage, are you ill? You look a little pale.”

  “Yes, I think I am. Maybe I’ve been in the sun too long,” I murmured as I reluctantly looked up at him. Everything seemed back to normal. I tilted my head left and right and then squinted at him to see if I could recreate what I had just experienced. Nope, and now I definitely felt like a moron. His eyes narrowed.

  “Definitely too much heat,” I replied, still a little uncertain.

  He seemed relieved and let out a long breath. “Let’s go inside, then, and find Mrs. Howell to let her know you just lost track of time.”

  He smiled and offered me his arm. I walked inside with him, the phantom scent of honey still teasing the back of my tongue.

 

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