Fix what? I wanted to ask. There was nothing to do for my withdrawals besides ride it out. It wasn’t like I could go to the drug store. Nor did I want to. I wanted all these things out of my system, and if it hurt to get them out, then that’s how it went. Discomfort was something I was used to.
We got inside, and I was immediately hit with a wave of homesickness I hadn’t expected. Everything was the same—from the ceramics on the side table, to the mail our housekeeper left next to the house keys. It even smelled the same.
Shaking my head, I walked a little further inside. No one would ever know I lived here. There were pictures of my mother and stepfather, a picture of my mother and the dog, but not one of her and her daughter.
I let my hair fall into my face, hiding—I hoped—the tears that were starting to gather in my eyes. I didn’t want the masks to see this. Here I’d thought my life was one way—a mother who was disappointed in her daughter, a father who couldn’t be bothered—but it turned out to be something so different. At one point in her life, my mother had loved me enough to step through a portal into a new time. All just to protect me.
“Did she know?” I asked. I didn’t bother to be quiet. My mom had probably taken a sleeping pill or two, and wouldn’t wake until the morning housekeeper shook her awake. “When she took that pill, or whatever it was to make her forget, did she know what she’d turn into?”
“I don’t know,” Scott answered. “The pill wipes all episodic memory—memories of anything personal. She was, for all intents and purposes, a blank slate when she arrived here. Essentially, this world made her who she is.”
What a shitty choice she’d had.
“I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower. Then I’m going to talk to my mom.” If I could rouse her. “Feel free to snoop. In fact, take anything that looks interesting to you. Maybe you can use it to trade when you get back to your world.”
The masks stared at me, a little dumbfounded. It was probably the bitterness that was beginning to leak into my voice. But the withdrawal combined with the emotional upheaval of today was stripping me of all social niceties.
I didn’t wait for them to reply. I took the stairs as fast as I could to my room on the third level of the house. A musty smell hit me when I opened the door, and I sneezed. I flipped on the light and saw that everything was covered in a fine coat of dust. Even the bedspread. Wow. They’d really pretended I didn’t exist. It was hot up here, stifling. The heat did it. My stomach rebelled, and I dashed to the bathroom, emptying it of the small amount I’d eaten.
“Chaney?”
I flushed fast before leaning back on my heels and dropping my head to the toilet seat. “Give me a minute.”
Scott knelt next to me. I could feel him, the heat of him, all along my left side, but I couldn’t face him. My beautiful, unattainable masks. When I’d snuck out of the inpatient facility, I hadn’t thought I’d be revealing all my flaws to them.
His skin grazed mine as he took my hand. Tingles raced along with goosebumps everywhere he touched. I thought he was offering me support, but a quick prick on the tip of my finger had me pulling away. A bead of blood welled up, and I stuck it in my mouth. “What was that for?”
In his hand, Scott held a small black device. It was palm size with a small screen. He stared at it, waiting. A moment later, the thing ejected a tiny slip of what looked like paper. “Here.” He held it out. “Put this under your tongue. It will give you just enough of what’s in your body to keep you from getting sick. A few days of this, and those drugs will be totally out of your system.”
I didn’t take it. Instead, I stared at the tiny paper.
“Usually, it only takes one of these to get a person back on track, but wherever you’ve been taking has depleted you of basic vitamins while overloading you with mood-altering prescriptions.”
He didn’t push the slip forward. He waited patiently, hand outstretched. I lifted my gaze to his, and he smiled, a quick flash of dimples and twinkling blue eyes.
Hesitantly, I took it and put it under my tongue. The relief was instantaneous. It was as if I’d been given a shot of sunshine and chicken soup and the best hug in the world. “God. I hope that’s not addictive.”
Scott laughed. “No. We’ve been able to remove those parts of medicines that activate the parts of the brain that—” He stopped himself. “Sorry. It’s the science. I can ramble.”
“That’s okay.” I liked his voice. It was soothing, deep and smooth, with a hint of an unplaceable accent. I got to my feet, and my legs held me easily now. Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I winced. “I’m going to…”
A blush bloomed over his cheekbones. “Right. Sorry. I’ll wait for you in your room.”
I nodded, watched him go, and stripped out of my clothes. I turned on the shower and jumped in before it warmed up. The bottom of the tub was gray, but the water quickly sluiced all the dust away. My parents hadn’t cared about me, and it was clear from the way this room looked—they counted on me never coming home.
I grabbed some body wash, the same half-full bottle I’d used before I left, and dumped it into my hand. There was a sort of detachment that overtook me as I went through the motions of washing, shaving, and conditioning. By the time I finished and stepped out of that shower, I’d come to a few decisions about my life.
The first was pretty pathetic. My parents weren’t enough to hold me here. The second was just depressing. If I stayed, they’d lock me away again. My stepfather had enough money and enough clout to make that happen. I could disappear. If I ran away to another town and never, ever contacted them, he’d probably let me stay gone.
Probably.
If he were afraid I’d one day end up on their doorstep, he’d find me and lock me away again.
Then there were the masks. If I stayed here, I’d forget all about them. Whatever that machine could do to heal my body from withdrawal, it could also give me a drug that would turn those three men into dust. And I didn’t want to forget them. I didn’t know if I wanted to go to another world, but I knew I really, really wanted to remember their faces.
There was a quick knock on the door. I hooked my towel a little tighter around me and cleared my throat. “Come in.”
Scott opened the door and stood there, holding my clothes. His gaze went from the top of my head down to my bare feet. “Uh. Clothes.” He held them out to me, and I took them.
“Thanks.”
He shut the door quickly, and I giggled. For a scientist, the human body appeared to be a bit overwhelming. It certainly wasn’t because of how I looked. Even clean, I was too gaunt and pale.
I took my time getting ready. My own clothes. I would never take having choices for granted again. Sure, Scott had chosen these for me, but every piece of clothing in my wardrobe was something I’d chosen at one time.
He’d chosen a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt. Also black. I laughed. The outfit wasn’t so very dissimilar from what the masks were wearing. By the time I was finished, I’d blown my hair dry, put on a little makeup and slid some earrings into my ears.
And there I was. Almost the girl I remembered.
In my room, I could hear Scott’s voice and the low tones of Robert and Matthew, though I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I opened the door and stepped out of the steamy bathroom, pausing when they all stopped to stare at me. It only lasted a second, that silence, before they gathered themselves and spoke.
“Do you still want to talk to your mother?” Matthew asked.
If I could wake her up, I did. It seemed important to say something. Goodbye, definitely. And then maybe the rest would come to me in the moment.
“Here.” Scott handed me another tiny slip of paper, except one side was smooth. “Just pull that smooth piece off and stick it to her skin. I took a look in her medicine cabinet. You’re not going to be able to shake her awake.”
Yeah. I guessed that was probably wishful thinking. I stared at the paper, backing up until I coul
d sit on my favorite reading chair. It was soft, comfortable, but the dust poofed out of the fabric, making me sneeze.
“If I go with you, what am I supposed to do?” I stared at them. “Do I get a job? You said it was dangerous for females. Do I need to worry about being kidnapped or—I don’t know, a slave?”
Scott and Robert shook their heads, but it was Matthew to whom I looked. I had a feeling he’d share with me the worst-case scenario. “Is that something you’re considering?” he asked.
Time to come clean. “If you’re going to be with me it is.” But if they were just glorified taxi drivers, then no. I could just as easily be alone in—I didn’t know—New Hampshire, as I could three hundred years in the future.
“Yes,” Robert answered immediately. “We would.”
“Why?” They’d hinted at so many things before. At how I called to them. About how I was their responsibility. But what did that mean? What was the point of it all?
“In our time, things have changed,” Robert began. “Not just technology, but what we understand about people. There’s a connection between us. It’s the thing that called us through the orb. It’s something—down to a cellular level—that activates something in us. Some people go their entire lives without feeling this. I never believed in it.”
I lifted my eyebrows, part amazed, part disbelieving. What were they feeling? Love? Or just obligation?
I knew how I felt—obsessed. Worshipful. Entranced. They were a bright spot in my life when I had been really lonely. I went home to an empty house and an empty-eyed mother, but the thought of these three had sustained me through years. And then they’d returned again, and I was hooked. No one had ever made an effort for me, and my masks had traveled through time.
“What do you feel?” I played with the hem on my shirt. They couldn’t know how much rode on their answer.
“We—” Shrieking sirens filled the air, cutting Robert off. Blue and red lights flashed through my windows like a disco.
“Police.” I ran to the window. Police rushed out of their cars and ran toward my house. We were going to be surrounded. “Here.” I must have entered the code wrong. Or else it had changed. Or else this was all a set up. Canyon Cove, the facility where I’d spent the last two years, had expected me to come home.
My masks moved fast. Robert took my hand, dragging me toward the window. He shoved it up, stuck his head out, and came back inside. “We can make it to the roof. No problem.”
Yeah. No. Maybe he could get on the roof. He and the others filled out those skin tight black shirts, but I groaned when I rolled out of bed. There was no way I could pull myself up there.
But apparently, I didn’t need to. Matthew went out the window first, then Robert.
“Here we go,” Scott whispered. I barely had time to take in his grin when he pushed me out. Robert and Matthew had made a human ladder, and they passed me easily from one to the other. Scott merely jumped from the sill to the roof and swung himself over the edge like some kind of monkey.
The roof of our house was flat, so it was easy enough to run across, but there were huge trees between our house and our neighbors. Not to mention, a yard full of cops. I hesitated, but the masks didn’t. Scott leapt, clearing the more than twenty feet between our house and the next, and landed softly on the roof.
“Close your eyes.” Matthew grabbed my hand, slung me over his shoulder like he was a fireman, and jumped. Wind whistled in my ears, and my stomach dropped like I was on a roller coaster before he landed. There was a soft thud that must have been Robert, but I hadn’t opened my eyes.
Or I couldn’t.
“You’re doing great.” Scott’s encouragement made me snort. I was going to need new pants at the end of this. Before I could open my mouth, we were in motion again, and again. Finally, there was one more jump that had my stomach reaching for my throat, and we were on the ground.
Matthew didn’t let me down. He just ran. The three of them were quiet. In fact, the loudest sound was my breathing and one or two grunts when his shoulder dug into my stomach, heaving the air out of me.
When we finally stopped, Matthew carefully set me on my feet. He held my elbows when I bobbled, keeping me upright until my legs would support my weight. “Better?”
If I opened my mouth, I might puke, so I nodded and opened my eyes. We were back where we started. I gave a quick, desperate look around to see if we were going to be surrounded like we’d been at home, but there was only the sound of revelers.
“We have money,” Robert said, digging into one of the pockets of his pants. He pulled out a thick wad of cash and held it out to me. “You can take this and disappear.”
They were leaving. Leaving here. Leaving me. I blinked hard when tears threatened. They were doing the right thing. I was a danger, not worth whatever the connection they’d thought we had.
“I don’t want it,” I replied, stepping back. “You should get going.”
Scott pushed in front of Robert. His hair was messy, and a faint sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. Using his body, he forced Matthew away from me and took his place. “You won’t come with us?”
“You can’t stay?” I asked.
Scott shook his head. “We’re not like those people who can leap from one time to another, take a pill, and live a new life. We weren’t designed for it. As much as we’d like to be. As much as we’d want to stay.”
He was speaking in hypotheticals, but I’d had enough fantasy and dreams. I wanted real. I wanted tangible. He gave me a small smile, one that made that dimple appear in his cheek. Before I could stop myself, I touched it, placing my index finger right in the little divot. Those wonderful tingles shot up my arm, and I shivered. “See?” he whispered. “Connection.”
Stay or go? “What do you want me to do?”
Matthew’s gaze went flinty. Hard. “When did you turn into someone who had to follow directions? You are strong and find your own path.”
“I don’t want to be alone.” The words slipped out of me, and I clamped my lips shut.
Matthew approached me, all lean and powerful, and slid his hand behind my hair to cup my neck. “You won’t be alone. We won’t leave you alone.”
“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Robert asked. I noticed his long dark hair was wild and stuck to his face. He pushed one hand through it before shaking his head. “If you come with us, you’ll stay with us.”
Okay, then. “Bring me to the future.”
Four
Matthew blinked and took a step away from me. “You’ll come?”
“You’re sure?” Scott asked, but he was already opening the door to the theater. “It’s not bad. If I had a choice of a time in which to live, I’d choose mine. It’s not easy, but it’s not bad.” Who was he trying to convince? Himself? There was nothing here for me. And they were there. And they promised they’d stay with me.
“Yes. I want to go.”
Scott took my hand. His grip was firm, but it didn’t hurt, and he tugged me through the door. It was almost as if he were worried I’d change my mind
Robert and Matthew strode behind us. I cast a glance over my shoulder, found them studying the theater, staring hard into dark corners. I didn’t know what they were watching for, but their entire demeanor had changed. Matthew, if possible, was even more serious, and there was no sign of Robert’s smile. I chalked it up to preparing to go through the orbs.
Scott pulled open the door to the theater where I’d left their masks, and paused. He let go of my hand, hurrying away from me, taking off at almost a sprint down the aisle.
“What is it?” I asked.
Matthew and Robert ran around me, following Scott to the stage. “They’re gone.”
The masks. The orbs. Why hadn’t I felt something when we’d left? An urge to hide them or put them somewhere safe?
“Look around,” Matthew directed, to which Scott and Robert immediately fanned toward the edges of the stage. I started to look as well, systematically going fro
m one aisle to another, up and down and around any seats that had been left bolted into the floor.
As I made my way back, I thought I saw something. A flash of white that reminded me of the porcelain quality of their masks. Or orbs. I had a hard time thinking of them as orbs, let alone portals. It was dark in the corner, and I squinted. A quick peek over my shoulder revealed the guys were still searching. Matthew had pulled out some kind of device and was staring at it intently.
“Chaney.” A low voice, just above a whisper caught my attention the second before a hand wrapped around my wrist.
“Someone’s here,” Matthew called out.
I stood frozen, gaze caught in the same gray-eyed stare I saw each time I looked in the mirror.
“Chaney!” Footsteps pounded behind me. The man holding my arm looked past me, grinned, and yanked me forward—into nothingness.
I came awake to a warm, humid breeze blowing over my face. My body rocked side to side, like I was on a boat. How did I get on a boat?
The masks!
I opened my eyes, immediately awake, and jerked to a sitting position. The same man who had been in the theater steered a boat one handed, but was looking at me. I pushed myself to standing, holding on to the side of the boat as I tried to find my center of balance.
What the hell was going on?
“Chaney.” Out here, wherever—or whenever—this was, it was a lot easier to see the resemblance between this man and myself. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”
We hit a wave, and the boat lifted and slammed into the water, throwing me off balance. I held on tighter while studying our surroundings. It looked like we were in the middle of the ocean, but beyond the man, I could make out a line of land.
Long ago, I learned that being emotional got me nowhere. So even though I was freaking out about being with someone I didn’t know, in a place I didn’t know, in a time I didn’t know, I decided to appeal to this man logically. “I’m supposed to be with someone else,” I said. It struck me that the only sound was the wind. The boat was utterly silent as it sliced through the water. There was no flapping sails, no smell of gasoline or diesel. The man barely had to raise his voice for me to hear him.
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 4
