Stopping Time: Paranormal Fantasy Young Adult/New Adult Romance (Kerrigan Chronicles Book 1)

by W. J. May

  There was a spluttering gasp as he shoved the bottle of whiskey between her lips.

  “Do something useful with your mouth.”

  Like clockwork, everyone immediately averted their eyes in some other direction. Even Angel’s husband knew better than to interfere in a brother-sister spat. Instead, it was Luke who waited a few seconds before venturing forward as the peacemaker once more.

  “What do you think, Rae? Can you work the ink again? Get us back to our own time?”

  A brazen confidence rose up in her chest, but with stakes so high now was no time for a bluff. Instead, Rae found herself honestly considering the question.

  Since waking up to the supernatural world, she’d found herself doing things she never thought were possible. Things the fifteen-year-old girl who walked into Guilder all those years ago couldn’t have imagined. It seemed there was no limit to her powers. No boundary the magic fairy inked across her lower back couldn’t cross. She’d moved mountains, raised the golden standard, and saved the world from the dangers that threatened it more times than she could possibly count.

  But to alter the very fabric of time and space...?

  “I wish I knew whose ink it was,” she heard herself muttering, incredibly disconcerted that such an extreme power had somehow slipped unnoticed into her collection. “Maybe then I’d have a better idea of how to get it to work.”

  With my luck, I’ll accidentally take us back to some prehistoric tundra. Then we’ll have more than the occasional goose to worry about...

  “It doesn’t matter whose ink it was,” Devon squeezed her hand beneath the table, “it’s yours now. Yours to command. And there’s no one I know who’s better at that than you.”

  As daunting as the task was, his confidence was catching. She had worked the power once before, hadn’t she? Surely she could figure out how to work it again. Time only went one of two ways. Even if she missed the first few tries, they’d keep at it. What’s the worst that could happen?

  “Just don’t jump us too far into the future,” Molly added helpfully. “Otherwise we could all end up dead.”

  Oh. That.

  Rae’s face turned the color of sour milk and Luke had begun quietly reminding his wife of the importance of holding one’s tongue, when a tall man walked over from the bar and came to a sudden stop in front of their table. He wiped his hands on his apron, then gestured to the booth.

  “Are you enjoying the whiskey?”

  By now, Gabriel had finished about half the bottle. His eyes took an extra second to focus before he offered the man a faint smile, his golden curls shimmering in the flickering light.

  “Immensely.” He tilted it up for another shot. “We’ll need at least five more.”

  The man looked on with an amused grin before holding out his hand. “Well, that ain’t free, mate. That’ll be three pence for what you’ve already got.”

  Three pence?

  The friends blinked at him. Then they remembered they’d travelled back in time.

  “Three pence,” Gabriel murmured, tickled by the novelty. “That’s adorable.” He took another swig, looking as though the whole thing was rather quaint. “Devon, pay the man.”

  While open hostilities might have abated, that didn’t mean the two men didn’t still delight in tormenting the other in their ongoing cold war.

  Devon rolled his eyes, but reached automatically for his wallet. “How is it that your bar habit always seems to end up on my...my card.”

  He froze in place, holding the plastic between two fingers.

  The others stared for a split second, then realized the problem at the same time. Not only did most of them only rarely carry cash, but what paper money they did have with them was from another century. Nothing they could use in this bar.

  “Uh, actually...” Devon’s face transformed on a dime, melting into the charming smile that had gotten him out of so many jams before. “If we could just—”

  The bartender folded his arms rigidly over his chest. “Oh, this is going to be good. I can tell.”

  The smile faltered and Devon glanced down at his credit card. “I swear, it’s not what you think. I just—”

  “I only gave you the bottle because it was clear you could pay,” the man interrupted angrily, betraying the hint of a Scottish accent. “Seeing as you’d already purchased such fine company.”

  For the second time the table froze, blinking up at him as they tried to understand. Then the men looked down to hide secret smiles, while the women paled with identical looks of rage.

  “Purchased such...” Molly slammed her hands on the table, leaning forward with an icy glare. “Listen, jackass, we are NOT prosti—”

  “The one with the dark hair,” Gabriel interrupted with a dismissive nod, “she’s all yours.”

  The argument screeched to a halt, and for a second nobody moved. Then they all turned to look at Rae, who flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet, chanting a silent mantra in her head.

  I must not set him on fire. I must not set him on fire.

  Though, to be honest, she was having a hard time remembering why.

  Devon flashed Gabriel a chilling look, turning back to the bartender with that same supplicatory smile. “I’m so sorry, friend,” he continued peaceably, “I seem to have misplaced my wallet. But I’m sure my wife can give you whatever you need.”

  Still reeling from being mistaken for a sex worker two times in the last ten minutes, Rae turned to her husband in shock.

  Oh, is that right? she thundered telepathically. I’m to give him WHATEVER HE NEEDS?!

  Devon met her look of indignant rage for only a second, closing his eyes with a painful grimace. Beside him, Julian was quick to turn his laughter into an innocent cough while Molly gave her a meaningful stare. It was only then that she understood.

  Oh. Right. I can make the money appear.

  With the skill of someone who had done it a thousand times before, she opened her palm and hid it in the folds of her dress, waiting for the telltale ink to rise to the surface.

  “You know, this really is a fine establishment. Very... plebian chic.” She babbled nervously and stalled for time, craning her neck to see the coins the merchants were gambling with. While she knew the basic size and shape, she was fairly sure the face printed on the front was no longer the same. “If I were you, I might invest in some basic sound-proofing, but that’s really more of a judgement call. Not that the sounds of the brothel don’t add a certain authentic flair...”

  Devon slid his face into his hands and Gabriel took a grinning shot, but she’d already gotten what she needed. A glimpse of the gamblers’ coins.

  Now just a little conjuring and everything will be...

  Her fingers flexed and trembled.

  ...everything will be...

  Her nails dug into her palm.

  ...terrible.

  A little gasp escaped her lips as she tried again and again. Then again after that. Trying to call upon ink that wouldn’t respond. Silently hyperventilating all the while. In an act of desperation, she actually peeked down at her open hand. Not that she need have bothered.

  There was nothing there.

  “Um... sweetheart?” Her voice was at least two octaves higher than normal. “It’s the funniest thing... I can’t seem to find my wallet either.”

  The others glanced over with sudden concern, and Gabriel set down the bottle for the first time. Meanwhile, the bartender seemed to have grown another ten feet tall.

  “Are you sure?” The smile was fixed on Devon’s face, but a bit of panic was leaking through. “Honey, check again.”

  “Of course I’m sure,” she snapped.

  Her usual buzz of a thousand active tatùs had diminished to a frightfully quiet hum, and all of a sudden they had a lot bigger problems than one angry bartender.

  “Right,” Devon said briskly. One second of hesitation, then all that PC training snapped right back into gear. “Sir, I’m so sorry to do this, but we’re going t
o have a raincheck.”

  The man stared like he was speaking French. “Raincheck?”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Come back tomorrow,” Devon explained, realizing the colloquialism probably hadn’t been invented yet. “You have my word, we’ll be here first thing in the—”

  “We don’t... raincheck.” The man flexed his fists, and out of nowhere ten more appeared by his side. “Do you know what we do to outsiders who don’t pay their bills?”

  FOR THE FIRST TIME in her life, Rae Kerrigan was thrown out of a bar.

  Literally thrown.

  There was a series of shouts and shrieks as the others landed in a heap beside her, arms and legs tangling together. They were sprawled on the ground in a single sliver of golden light, and when the tavern door slammed shut the world plunged into darkness once more.

  “What the heck was that?!” Molly demanded, spitting out a mouthful of Angel’s silvery hair as she pushed to her feet. “Rae, of all the times to go on that moralistic counterfeiting kick, that was honestly the worst—”

  “Something’s wrong.” Devon stumbled backwards, but managed to land on his feet. Barely. He looked down at his hands in astonishment. Like they didn’t belong to him, but answered to someone else instead. “Rae, I can’t...” He flexed them again, then paled. “I don’t have my ink.”

  One by one, the others succumbed to similar panic. Rae got shakily to her feet and reached for her husband, turning automatically to their shared best friend.

  “Jules?”

  Julian’s eyes flashed white before darkening back to the present—dilated with apprehension and dread. “I have mine. Are you sure...”

  With frantic fingers Devon rolled up his sleeve, then froze in the moonlight. As pale as Rae had ever seen him. The tan skin on his arm was completely bare. His tatù was gone.

  “No,” he whispered, touching the skin with the tips of his fingers, like he could bring it back through sheer force of will. “No... this can’t be.”

  A little wail pierced the air and Rae whirled around to see Molly hunched over at the waist, staring down at her coiled hands. “Nothing’s happening,” she whimpered, eyes watering involuntarily as they locked onto Rae’s. “I can’t make it work.”

  A feeling of ice-cold panic settled in the pit of Rae’s stomach as she started scrolling through her collection at the speed of light. Sure enough, there were gaping holes where her faithful tatùs used to be. Some of them were still there, but most of them—the powerful ones that she used the most often—had vanished into thin air. Leaving her cold and empty in their wake.

  “Sweetie, it’s okay.” Luke cupped the back of Molly’s head, holding her helplessly against his chest. “It’s just while we’re here. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  But Luke didn’t have a tatù. And he had no idea how it felt when one was taken away.

  Electricity, telekinesis, strength, speed, conjuring... all gone. Rae hardly dared to breathe as she tried to summon her mother’s deadly fire. Tried and failed. That’s gone, too.

  “You’re fine,” Julian was saying quietly, his hand on Devon’s back. Stripped of her usual sensitivity, Rae had to take a step closer to hear. “You didn’t have it in the bar either, and everything was okay. It’s just a shock—that’s all. And it’s temporary, Dev. It’s only temporary.”

  Angel was standing silently by his side. Whether she still had her tatù or not, Rae couldn’t tell. But her lovely face was as tense and worried as the rest of them.

  “What about the ability to jump through time?” Molly asked in a panic, breaking away from Luke with thoughts of Benjamin dancing in her eyes. “Rae, tell me that you have—”

  “It’s okay,” Julian soothed, catching her gently by the shoulders, “she has to have that one. It wouldn’t let her take us back to a time before the ink was in play. All the others... your ancestors must not have gotten the tatù yet. It’s the only explanation.”

  Still visibly trembling, Rae lifted her eyes to the man standing silently in the shadows.

  “Gabriel?”

  He alone hadn’t put up much of a fight when they were thrown from the tavern. Perhaps it was because he’d had so much to drink. Perhaps it was because he’d sensed an easy opportunity to skip out on the bill. Either way, he certainly looked sober now.

  He didn’t look at his arm. But he didn’t seem to need to.

  “I have my tatù,” he said quietly. “Now we need to get out of here.”

  Rae nodded shakily, smoothing and re-smoothing her dress as she tried to get her nerves under control. It was one thing to get trapped in the 1600s. It was another thing entirely to get trapped in the 1600s without one’s powers.

  “Yeah, I just—”

  “Rae,” he said again, bringing her methodically back on point, “we need to leave.”

  Like a shadow, Angel flitted noiselessly to his side. “The bartender isn’t going to content himself with eviction. We’re outsiders, so this is sport. They’ll be back with a mob.”

  Gabriel finished her thought, two sides of the same coin. “They’ll be back with a mob, and we’re not allowed to hurt these people past what they’d be able to believe. The only option is to leave.”

  Not allowed to hurt these people past what they’d be able to believe?

  Rae knew they were right. She was even strangely grateful for their ability to hold themselves above the emotions of a situation and approach it dispassionately. But, logical as it was, convenient as it might be—it was still hard to reconcile the way the adopted siblings saw the rest of the world.

  As a casualty waiting to happen. As a delicate balancing act. One in which you had to weigh how much right you could do against how much wrong.

  “Okay.” She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Now was no time for moral quandaries. He was right. They had to go. They had people waiting. “Guys, get closer.”

  They huddled together in the darkness. Those who’d been stripped of their ink leaning heavily on those who hadn’t. It was a desperate situation, but one she was hoping to rectify. Julian was right. The ink was only temporary. The second they got back, everything would be fine.

  ...if we can get back.

  Through sheer force of will, Rae silenced the nagging voice and banished it firmly from her mind. Positivity was the name of the game here—no time for doubt. Then, like one preparing to jump from a plane, she spread her legs shoulder-width apart and lifted her hands. Closing her eyes, she focused on the task at hand.

  “All right, here we go... back to the future.”

  One eye peeked open, to see the rest of them caustically staring back.

  “Oh, come on,” she muttered, “like I’m the only one who thought that was funny.”

  “Darling,” Devon’s teeth were clenched and his voice was strained, “now’s not really the time for that famous sense of humor.”

  She nodded quickly. “Right.”

  Closing her eyes again she let every thought, every possible distraction, slip from her mind. Her body both tensed and relaxed at the same time. Her pulse slowed and her breathing steadied. Every nerve ending was standing on alert, just waiting for the magic to sweep them away.

  And waiting...

  And waiting...

  “Damnit, Rae!” Angel cursed. “You can’t do it, can you?!”

  Come on... please work!

  “She can do it,” Devon growled. “Just give her some time.”

  Why isn’t this working?

  The beautiful girl threw up her hands, plopping down on the porch of a store front and muttering, “Well, we’ve got plenty of that...”

  COME ON!

  Meanwhile, Rae was giving herself a silent aneurysm. The positivity was gone and panic had set in to a debilitating degree. She could not leave them stranded in another century, when their lives and their children were hundreds of years away. She could not leave them powerless and alone in a city she no longer called her home. She had to figure t
his out. She had to do something!

  “Rae, focus,” Julian urged in a soft, compelling voice. “You already did it once, you can do it again. Just try to relax and breathe—”

  “Come on, Kerrigan.” Luke shifted anxiously on his feet. “You got this.”

  “Do it, Rae,” Molly commanded, zeroing in with laser focus. “And don’t mess it up.”

  “...relax and breathe...”

  JUST WORK—DAMNIT!

  “If she breathes any more, she’s going to pass out,” Gabriel interrupted, bringing the manic momentum to a sudden halt.

  With a quiet sigh, he stepped out of the shadows and stood directly in front of her. He was a good ten inches taller, and the moon haloed behind his golden hair as he stared into her eyes.

  “Truth, Rae.” The corner of his mouth curved up in a soft smile. They’d always had a shared understanding, the two of them. A kind of honesty that neither would betray. “Can you do it?”

  Her breath caught and her body trembled. Oh, how she wanted to say yes. She wanted it more than anything. But it wasn’t that she couldn’t work the ink. She couldn’t even find it.

  A stifled sob caught in her throat and she shook her head.

  No. I can’t.

  A series of muted reactions followed this pronouncement. A series of reactions she couldn’t bring herself to see. But none of them came from Gabriel. He simply stared steadily into her eyes before stepping back with a brisk nod. Already moving past it in his mind.

  “All right. Then we need to figure out where to stay tonight.”

  Rae blinked in amazement as the rest of them slowly came round.

  “Where to stay?” Molly repeated slowly, her eyes flitting from one to the other in dismay. “So, we’re definitely staying the night?” A look of panic washed over her face, and she reached out to take Rae’s hand. “Just try it again. None of us will talk this time. Just try it one more time, and—”

  “Molls, this is time travel.” Gabriel rarely used nicknames; it was enough now to catch her attention. “It’s dangerous stuff. Not something you want to force in a panic.”