by Hunter Blain
Moving to the tree, I crossed my arms as I leaned against the bark, the Fae silk of my coat rubbing together in a way that resembled thick leather. A light breeze carried the scent of the chemicals used to extinguish the last of the fires. Such a simple action reminded me why I was still here.
“You said we don’t have time for this,” I started, repeating the words used by Gabriel to wake me up. “Time for what?”
I could see Gabriel’s face now, and was somewhat relieved to see nearly all his wounds—which his brother, Michael, had gifted—were almost fully healed. Only the last bits of beige flesh remained, which would have been a scar on any mortal.
“I chose my words carefully, and you will understand soon enough,” Gabriel said with a degree of seriousness that made me take notice.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing for you to worry yourself over just this moment.”
“Forgive me, but if the Archangel Gabriel is worried about something, it must be of significance,” I challenged, letting my arms drop to my sides as I pushed myself off of the tree to stand straight in front of my friend.
“Trust when I say that all will be revealed…when it is time.”
“Let me guess,” I drawled, crossing my arms again and rolling my eyes, “now is not the time.”
“Now is not the important time to focus on, John,” Gabriel responded, throwing me off with his wording.
I made clear my confusion with his statement by piecing together a clear and concise rebuttal which requested clarification on the matter at hand.
“Huh-with-the-what-now?” I asked as one long word.
“Not what, when.”
“Right, right, right,” I grumbled, waving one of the hands that was still tucked under my crossed arms in a gesture that said hurry the F up.
“John, you are presented with two problems at this moment in time. Both of which must be solved if you are to win the grand prize.”
“Which is?”
“The continued existence of eternity,” Gabriel replied flatly.
My arms slipped from across my chest to slap my thighs as my chin rushed to meet the ground in surprise.
“How interesting it is to see you act like a pouty child who is indignant at being forced to sit at the kids table but then balks when allowed to even step foot in the same room as the gathered adults at the big table.”
“I…I don’t understand,” I admitted lamely, forcing my gaping mouth closed as the stinging words Gabriel had injected into my skin delivered their payload of venom.
“That is precisely my point, John,” Gabriel barked, somewhat harshly. His message, combined with the blunt tone, rocked me back.
Seeing my reaction, Gabriel’s tension noticeably eased before he turned away from me to peer at the destroyed warehouse complex some seven hundred yards away. I knew it to be merely a gesture to allow me a brief moment to catch my metaphorical breath.
“There is so much riding on you, John,” Gabriel spoke softly now as his gaze drifted to the ground beneath his feet. “If I were to be honest with you…I don’t know if you are ready for what has yet to come.”
“Then help me,” I pleaded with my hands out and palms up. I took a step forward, visibly begging for his guidance.
“We all have our parts to play,” he replied softly, and I got the impression he was hiding something very obvious just behind a sheer veil of subterfuge.
“I grow tired of these games, angel,” I quipped without meaning to do so. “I deal with enough deceit from the Father of Lies. So help me. Help…me…”
Gabriel seemed to nod at my words before sucking in a quick breath and saying, “You’re right. So let me be clear: ahead of you lies a forked road. On one road lies your friend, bobbing in an ocean of uncertainty, and mere moments from slipping beneath the surface. On the other, the reflection of one of your biggest shames distorts with each passing moment.”
“This is what you call clear?”
A corner of Gabriel’s lips curved in a sly smile.
“Depweg is lost in time while Magni is trapped within the Ether.”
“O…k-k-kay then…” I drawled, grabbing my hips as my head limply bobbed to my shoulder. “I, uh…don’t really know how to unpack all of that.”
“You don’t say,” Gabriel agreed sarcastically.
“Ah. Making a point, I see,” I realized before playing back his words again in an effort to decipher his meaning. “Wait…you’re saying Depweg is literally lost in time? So he’s, like, a when-wolf now? And…an-an-and Magni is in the freaking Ether? Where even is that?!”
“I do not envy your position, or the choice you will have to make.”
“Choice…” I whispered, feeling a crevice of consternation that was the depth of the Mariana Trench forming across my forehead.
The signal from my brain to my feet became jammed around my knees and I stumbled, slapping a hand against the tree and cracking the bark in my single-minded attempt to not collapse.
Gabriel looked into the wooded area around us, squinting, and changed his tone.
“You have to make a choice, and quickly. Depweg or Magni.”
“De—” I instinctively started before the dominating and clear image of Ludvig flashed in my mind. The passage I had read in Hell was next, reminding me that I was to become a father figure to Magni after Ludvig.
But that also meant that Magni would be alive…before I killed him.
“Depweg,” I stated confidently.
“Very good,” Gabriel mused with a half smile that failed to touch his eyes. “Learning to use destiny in your favor, I see.”
“Yup,” I affirmed, brushing off his comment right as Jose’s approaching steps became audible. “So what do I do? How do I save Depweg?”
The footfalls of my were companion ceased, prompting me to turn my gaze to him. Jose stood just beside a dense green bush which came up to his chest. Brown eyes were locked on the archangel.
“What about him?” I asked, returning my eyes in time to see Gabriel turn to the werewolf.
“You must be Jose.”
“I am,” Jose returned, straightening his stance and slowly coming around the bush to stand in the clearing on the hill. Without another word, he crossed his arms and lifted his chin, silently asking a question.
“I—” the angel started.
“Wait, isn’t Gabriel the ‘angel’ that sent you to Germany?” I interrupted with squinting eyes and air quotes. Something didn’t feel right.
“I believe it was one of my brothers,” Gabriel offered.
Jose simply stared at Gabriel with an unreadable expression.
“Oh…” I breathed, relaxing my accusing gaze. “This is Gabriel. He’s a friend who’s gonna help us find Depweg.”
“If he’ll help us find my maker, then I don’t care who he is…” Jose casually said as he made a show of sniffing the air, “or what he is.” Uncrossing his arms and sauntering between Gabriel and myself, Jose looked over the destroyed warehouse complex, signaling that he didn’t care about the specifics of our conversation.
“So, ah…how do we, like, go back in time?” My voice trailed up at the end, giving away how unsure I was about the whole situation. “Do we have, like, a DeLorean or somethin’?”
“I will take you to where you need to go. The armor will do the rest.”
“And, um…what about him?” I asked, thumbing over to where Jose continued to show us his back.
“I believe the Faerie king has already taken care of that for you.”
“TayTay?” I asked as my hands began patting at my pockets without my brain telling them to do so. Understanding clicked in my mind as I felt something small and hard in my pocket.
“Heh, small and hard,” I said above a whisper as I pulled out the crystal that had belonged to Depweg.
My face went flat as I lifted the necklace, letting the Fae stone dangle in front of my purple eyes, glinting in the light of the sun. From the corner of my vision, I
could see Jose turn his head and look over his shoulder to see what had quieted the party.
The situation became serious as the notion that this was happening clouded my mind, preventing any other thoughts from growing.
“Time travel…” I whispered, awestruck.
Jose walked over to where I stood still inspecting the crystal that hung from a long leather strap. My eyes glided down the length, seeing where it had been cut or torn and then tied back together in a few places.
The were stuck out his palm, and I watched as my hand moved to drop the crystal in his grasp.
Jose tied the loose portions of the leather together from where it had been torn from Depweg’s neck in the explosion, forming yet another knot.
“You must understand something, John,” Gabriel said, putting emphasis on my name to draw my attention. “Your armor and that necklace will allow you to exist outside of the normal flow of time. You will not be able to alter the living world around you, only observe it in search of Depweg.”
“And how’s that?” I asked, thinking about every time-travel movie ever. “Will we be in a higher dimension or something?”
“Not exactly. Think of it as being an observer.”
Something tickled my mind, and I blurted out, “Wait, so if he isn’t in the exact point in time that you drop us at…will we just, um, stay there and have to wait as time passes?” Nodding my head toward Jose, I continued, “I mean, that’s not really a big problem for me—minus the boredom—but Jose here…”
“I’ll show you how to move forward through time,” Gabriel reassured. I could tell there was a measure of hesitation in his voice, as if he were explaining how to handle Fabergé eggs to a man with hammers for hands. Heh, Johnny Hammerhands. Tim Burton, if you are reading this, call me.
“I can shift time around me?” I excitedly asked, inexplicably wondering at the same time what it would be like to have to pee with hammers for hands.
“Not exactly,” Gabriel explained. “You’ll be able to alter the speed at which time flows, but only in the forward direction.”
“So how are we going to go back, then?”
“I will take you both to the center of this galaxy, and to the supermassive black hole that awaits.”
6
Depweg - Grand Island, Nebraska, 1983
Tiffany pulled toward a detached single-car garage belonging to a modest light-blue house. Depweg noticed small AC units poking from windows attached to various rooms, bringing back a nostalgic reminder of simpler times. He wasn’t sure why he equated window units with the time in his life before the sword of Damocles was perpetually poised to strike due to John the Vampire, but here we were.
Tiffany parked the little Bug just outside of the garage but left the engine running.
“Wait here,” she instructed before getting out to manually open the garage door.
Climbing back in, Tiffany put the Bug into drive and eased into the tight spot that was flanked with clutter, most of which were marked boxes.
Turning the engine off, Tiffany got out and pulled the garage door closed, leaving the small space cloaked in darkness. Only a few slivers of light polluted the otherwise shadow-encased room. Small clouds of dust were illuminated by the sneaking sun, creating an illusion that reminded Depweg of 3D tiger stripes.
Getting out of the little yellow Bug, Depweg glanced at Tiffany, who seemed somewhat flustered all of a sudden.
“Um…ah…wait here, ’kay?” Tiffany asked with a nervous chuckle.
“Roommate?” Depweg inquired softly, not wanting to give his position away before Tiffany did whatever it was she intended to do.
She nodded before scooting past the stacked cardboard boxes labeled in thick, black marker. Several of the containers were labeled Melissa.
Casually glancing around, Depweg could hear Tiffany calling out to her roommate, though the sounds were muffled from inside the detached garage.
After about two minutes, Depweg heard the house door open and close before Tiffany returned.
“Okay, so, she’s not home yet,” she informed with relief while tossing him gym shorts and a tank top.
Slipping on the shorts, Depweg was quickly reminded about the near salacious amount of cloth used in ’80s gym wear. John probably would have made the comment about having undies with more material and length than these gym shorts; Depweg didn’t wear underwear, being a shifter and all. He had heard of some werewolves with special boxers for when they shifted, but had never cared enough to invest in some himself.
Making their way into the house, Tiffany pulled out two packets of ground beef wrapped in cellophane. As she closed the fridge, her eyes flew over Depweg’s wounded body, and two more packages were removed.
“Don’t suppose you have any cash on ya, huh?” Tiffany asked with a knowing smile.
In response, Depweg made a show of patting the shallow pockets of his shorts before shrugging with his palms up.
“Thought as much.”
Juicy, raw beef slapped against the skillet as the gas stove clicked to life.
As Tiffany opened another package, she asked over her shoulder, “Seasonings?”
“Nah.”
A single nod of appreciation and acknowledgment suggested both weres shared a minimalist viewpoint when it came to adding various flavors to their meat.
Depweg leaned against the used and abused yellow tile with the dirty grout, slightly scowling at the hideous wallpaper that announced he was most assuredly trapped in the ’80s.
Tiffany snuck a sidelong glance at the muscular were with the rapidly healing skin.
“You must be starving,” she guessed, both weres knowing the absurdity of the question. Depweg only nodded in affirmation while staring off into space.
The wolf inside his head was absorbing the aroma from the cooking meat, and began pacing in the way that predators do when eyeing their next meal just outside of reach. At least the hourglass had stopped flowing with the promise of sustenance.
Tiffany recognized the expression and yanked her exploratory gaze from the handsome and powerful beast that was standing in her kitchen to focus on getting him fed. Even though her hands were busy, her mind began slipping from the task in front of her, letting her imagination run wild.
A new, primal scent filled the air, making Depweg’s nostrils flare, prompting the wolf inside his mind to stop in place and begin licking his chops for a reason other than the cooking meat. Unfocused eyes snapped to the were-woman just feet away, and Depweg could see blood flushing her cheeks as she bit her lower lip.
All of a sudden, the lack of material in the gym shorts became almost overwhelmingly obvious.
The sound of a bicycle being dropped against the house made both weres snap out of their fog.
“Don’t worry. That’s just my roommate,” Tiffany said before her face lifted from the food to stare forward. “Be right back. Can you watch this?” she asked, gesturing toward the food.
“Sure.”
Tiffany jogged out of the small, boxed-in kitchen and through the living room to where the front door was opening. Depweg took note that they didn’t bother to lock their doors, and all of a sudden longed for simpler times. Living near Houston during the 2000s meant Depweg had learned to always lock his doors when leaving his home, even if where he lived had been considered rural. It hadn’t always been like that, but as the human population grew and people flocked to Houston and the outlying areas, so too did the crime. Then again, living in a modest, hand-built cabin surrounded by woods probably only drew the attention of curious, bored teenagers rather than actual criminals. Either way, Depweg valued his privacy and had made locking his doors a habit if he had to go into town.
Realizing he was fixating on such an insignificant idea as locked doors, Depweg convinced himself it was more a symbol of how stress-free life used to be.
“Hey, roomie!” Tiffany greeted in a nervous, high-pitched tone.
“What have you done?” the voice of her female r
oommate came back with a flat tone. Depweg could hear in her voice that she was probably crossing her arms and glaring with one eyebrow raised toward her friend.
Depweg thought he had heard the voice before, but shrugged off the notion as ridiculous.
“Um…you aren’t going to believe this,” Tiffany began with a chuckle as she played back the events of the day. Even Depweg couldn’t believe what had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
With a relaxed posture, Depweg lifted the stainless-steel spatula marred with discolored spots and began expertly shoveling the two pounds of meat around to ensure even cooking. The remaining two packages sat nearby, as the metal pan with the black plastic handle was already at max capacity. Depweg noticed the cookware resembled the spatula in design, and guessed they had been purchased as some box set at a discount store.
“I don’t care what he is!” the roommate with the familiar voice scolded after Tiffany had tried to quietly explain the situation. “You can’t just invite strangers into our home!”
The arguing voices grew louder right as the first of the cooked meat was dumped into a mixing bowl used for baking that he had found on the drying rack. A scoop of meat provided by the spatula attempted to burn the inside of Depweg’s mouth, but he just couldn’t wait any longer for life-giving sustenance.
Both sets of footsteps halted as Depweg turned to see the two women staring at him.
From around a steaming mouthful of meat, Depweg nearly choked as he recognized who Tiffany’s roommate was and why she sounded so damn familiar.
“Meli?!” Depweg coughed as wide eyes locked onto the werecat he had met less than twenty-four hours ago…more than fifty years in the future.
7
Locke - The In-Between
After Nurse Isaac had checked Locke’s vitals one last time, the IV was removed, and Locke changed back into his battle-worn clothing.
