Later that same year… Helena’s father would die. Bloody.
Ethan cemented his friendship with Helena early on and right then and there by being there for her through the thick and thicker of tragedy. His family adopted her into their own, making her a sister of sorts.
“I gotta get to the bank before they close,” Helena said when they reached the bottom step. “Thank you, as always, for your help today.” They pushed through the metal barred doors and stepped out into the busy Chicago street.
“You know better than to thank me,” said Ethan with a lopsided smile as he shoved the door shut behind them and made sure it stuck. “I’ll see you tonight at Hungry?”
Hungry was the name of a club she and Ethan sometimes frequented because it was a place where… well, where their kind congregated. The more-than-human kind. Especially werewolves, since it was owned and run by a couple of them. Hence, it was a place where Ethan felt relaxed, and Helena could catch a moment’s peace with no judgment whatsoever.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the –”
But her last word was cut off by the tremendous sound of crunching metal and shattering glass.
Chapter Six
Ethan’s head snapped up, his attention instantly drawn to the source of the sudden commotion – a mess taking place at the intersection half a block down the street. The accident slowed to a crawl for him as his pupils dilated and his body prepared to shift. In situations like this, everything moved very fast for humans, and it was difficult to get a handle on what exactly was happening without taking too long to analyze it. Normally, it took more time than people really had.
But he was a werewolf, and he processed the situation in record time. He was moving before the second crunch happened, long before brakes were applied or horns were laid into. An SUV filled with what Ethan was fairly certain were children fresh from some sweat-inducing sport proceeded to go spinning out across the intersection. It had already impacted with a taxi cab, which lay crunched into a yellow box dead center in the crossroads, and a small Chevrolet compact was airborne. A domino effect of trauma was in the process of unfolding, all of it set into motion by a pair of faulty stoplights, which for some reason both glowed green.
Screeching tires signaled leaden feet on brake pedals, but the sound droned into a low growl in Ethan’s slow-motion world. Beside him, Helena raised her arms, moving just as fast as he did, and Ethan watched as the air-borne Chevy froze in mid-air. The screeching tires went silent. Every deadly device at the intersection froze in place.
Along with every human, every clock, every working mechanical device, every breeze of wind, and every beating heart. Frozen.
Shit, thought Ethan. She was using one of her powers, her strongest power, consequences be damned. But that was what she always did, of course. That was Helena.
Ethan didn’t try to stop her; there was no point. Instead, he rushed into the still-life fray, his body blurring with the werewolf speed that flowed through his veins. The faster this was cleared up, the sooner Helena could un-freeze the scene, and the less of an effect it would have on her.
His arms sustained slices as he broke windows and pulled people through them to safety, and Helena maintained a close proximity to him, using telekinesis to lift objects that were too large for even a werewolf to manage. She took the air-borne Chevy from its place several feet off the ground and moved it to the ground once more, cleared from the path of oncoming vehicles. When the pair of them had everyone free of the wreckage, they moved to the sidewalk, where Ethan watched his oldest and dearest friend use her mind and sheer will to un-freeze the vehicles and people she’d locked into place only moments earlier.
He knew what to expect when this happened. She’d been doing it for nearly twenty years. So when everything exploded back into chaotic life and the humans began to scream to one another, shouting orders and looking around in confusion, Ethan’s eyes were solely on Helena. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when she bowed her head and her silken black hair shifted like a blue-black waterfall to hide her face. He wasn’t surprised when she raised her hand and touched her forehead.
He was far more surprised that she didn’t lean against the wall or sit down altogether.
“Let’s get you home and hope no one saw anything,” said Ethan, gently taking her by the arm. She looked up at him, and Ethan froze. There in the depths of her maroon-black eyes, he saw what he was most afraid he would see: Shadows. Moving. Pieces of darkness coasting like danger across the luminous windows of her soul.
“Crap,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” she said softly, a little out of breath. “I can feel them coming this time.”
Ethan swore again, this time with more vehemence, and began walking Helena away from the scene. He scanned the area around them as he went, not only because of what they’d done and the inherent danger of such a thing, but because there was something….
He stopped. Helena was forced to stop abruptly next to him. “What is it?”
“Do you smell that?”
“Hello, my name is Helena Dawn, and I’m a human,” Helena deadpanned. But her voice was still too soft, too tired.
Ethan gave her a look and turned his attention to his surroundings. There was a new scent on the wind. It was faint, but it was arresting. He’d never smelled anything like it.
“What do you smell?” Helena asked, serious now.
“Honestly,” he said slowly, “I have no idea. This one’s new.” His tone was distracted, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Not only was this scent one he’d never before experienced, it was one that set off every alarm bell in his system.
“Let’s go,” he suddenly said, spinning around, and bending to lift a very surprised Helena into his arms.
“Wait – what the hell? What are you doing?”
“We need to get gone right now.”
Helena didn’t argue. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight as he broke into a sprint, putting good distance between them and the accident behind them. When they’d gone several blocks and turned a few corners, he finally put her back down.
Helena straightened her clothes, but her hair that had always reminded him of an anime character was still wind-tossed and beautiful, and her eyes were shining with excitement and fear. She was an arresting vision, even now, even here, just past disaster. She took a deep breath and pinned him with a demanding look. “Okay. Explain.”
Ethan shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked over his shoulder. “But whatever it was, it was bad. Bad enough that I can honestly say I don’t know if that accident was an accident at all.”
Helena moved a few steps away from him to the corner of the street and peeked around. She wouldn’t see anything; they’d left the scene of the accident blocks away. Her brow furrowed and she turned back to him. “Ethan, if it was that bad, we should go back.”
Her eyes were pleading. And without even meaning to be, they were damning. He should have known that if he’d told her that, she would want to go back. Fighting evil was everything to Helena. He’d never known a stronger woman, or a more stubborn one.
“No.”
Helena stared at him. Her eyes got wide and her mouth fell open. “Why the hell not?”
“Because you’re already in a heap of trouble,” he told her, recalling the shadows he’d seen moving across her eyes. “You’ve already crossed the line with your powers today, and I can’t fight whatever this is alone.” And… because as weird as it was, Ethan couldn’t shake the sensation that whatever had caused that accident had been after Helena. She was in danger. He didn’t know how or why or even what kind of danger, but she was absolutely the target. He was certain of it.
Helena lowered her head and seemed to think. But when she lifted her hands and turned them over, he realized she was actually looking at them. Something was wrong.
Before his eyes, she began to fade. Within a few seconds, her body had become literally transparent, and he could see the sidewalk t
hrough her arms.
“Helena, what –” but before he could finish asking the question, Helena Dawn vanished entirely.
Ethan Holloway James lifted his head. He blinked a few times and looked around, a little confused as to what he was doing on that street corner at that time of day. The sun was low in the sky; it was a weekday. He’d just finished teaching the self defense class he held in a studio several streets from here. Normally, he went home by another route.
In the distance, he could hear sirens. They were headed his direction. He also caught something on the wind. It smelled like gasoline and oil, hot metal, fear, and even a little like blood.
There had been an accident nearby. That explained the sirens. He hoped everyone was okay.
And with that, Ethan shrugged off the odd black-out, chalked it up to getting lost in his thoughts again, and slid his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He felt his phone there in his right pocket, and on a whim pulled it out to check for messages.
Nothing much from any of his friends except an invite to Hungry, a werewolf bar downtown. He shot back a quick reply, slid the phone back in his pocket, and headed for home.
Chapter Seven
Julian watched in contemplative silence from where he remained unseen in the darkness of the alley. He looked on as beyond the wreckage, the lanky werewolf picked up his very special, very beautiful friend and carried her with blurred speed from the accident scene behind him.
Julian lowered his head, his gaze glowing through the tops of his striking eyes. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. This was different. This was entirely new.
Helena had powers. She had never before been born with inhuman abilities. Things had changed. And these were not just any powers it would seem, but enormously strong powers. Not only that, they were telling powers. She had the ability to affect time.
It was too fitting for his tastes. It sent up too many red flags and insinuated something Cain could not abide.
She’s not meant to be with him, he thought coldly. Then, with more force, he pushed the words into the red. She is not Solan’s. After all, if she was, this would have ended long ago. He smiled darkly.
“Mr. Cain,” said the vampire standing beside him. His tone was down-right disbelieving. “Did Helena just do that?” Harley nodded at the scene now sliding back into time-turned life.
But Julian said nothing. Instead he stepped off the curb and into the street, his boot sounding clearly in the ripening destruction of the accident he had maneuvered. Killing the traffic lights had been easy. The death of anything was a simple affair for Julian Cain. Technology was especially vulnerable to off-switches. It was tentative and flighty, as if it were waiting for an excuse to wreak havoc by simply ceasing to perform.
He moved through the dislocated vehicles, the confused passengers, the strange after-magic breeze that moved locks of disheveled hair across wide eyes and stricken faces. People began to speak, on-lookers ran into the street to help, and some pulled out cell phones to communicate the situation to the world beyond.
It was possible one or more of them had seen Helena execute her impossible feat. She and her werewolf companion had been careful. But… there were always loose ends. Julian excelled at tying those up. And cutting them off.
He finished his straight-line trek through the tangled mess and stepped calmly onto the sidewalk on the other side, following the direction Helena had taken. Harley the vampire stepped onto the curb behind him, but he asked no more questions. He was a smart man. He just might prove useful.
Cain could feel her there still, all around him. The air was literally softer when it brushed against his skin. There was a sensation like hope and possibilities, with the slightest scent of cherry bark and almond. It was the sweetest, most promising perception, and he would do anything to protect it.
He glanced over his shoulder at the unfolding intersection catastrophe as police vehicles began to pull up, and an ambulance nudged its way down the street. His eyes flashed an unholy hue, and his smile turned cruel.
One by one, as they were struck with a wave of vile influence beyond their comprehension, the humans in the street dropped lifeless to the ground. The slaughter was quick and quiet. Within less than half a minute, the area was still, oddly peaceful and serene. But Cain wasn’t quite finished.
Phones, pagers, radios and car computers sizzled and fried, popping with wayward electricity, some catching fire. Finally, the intersection smoked calmly and a gentle breeze picked up the ashy air and carried it away.
It was done.
Satisfied, Cain turned back around and moved down the street, following the pull of Helena’s fading scent like a wolf to its prey.
*****
Harley Nash peered across the field of dead bodies and tried desperately to compartmentalize. It was the most difficult thing the vampire had ever attempted. Nash had been at this job for centuries, acting as detective, bounty hunter, and assassin to the “otherworldly” races of the many realms. He’d seen a lot of things. He’d done a lot of things.
He’d once tracked a rogue alpha werewolf serial killer… who later turned out to be innocent and was now a famous author, happily married, and one of the most influential werewolves in their community. But the alpha was cold and calculated and extensively powerful, and tracking him down had been next to impossible. The murders he’d witnessed over and over, just a hair too late to stop them, were unspeakable.
This was so much worse there were no words to speak in the first place. What… was he even seeing? Inside his mind, drawers opened for him to fill, but shut again, empty. Because he couldn’t process what his eyes were taking in, there was nowhere to put it all.
The man who had hired him had just snuffed out fifty people with no more than a glance. There had been no warning, no outward sign of so much as an effort. Just a literal glance over his shoulder – a glimpse with those ever-changing thoroughly powerful eyes – and every single human being at that intersection had fallen lifeless to the ground.
And he was smiling.
Harley tried to swallow, but his throat had gone dry. He wondered if he should tell the Vampire King about this man. It would be the first time in centuries that he betrayed an employer. But….
Cain was dangerous. He was walking death.
That was what Harley had sensed from him all along. Now he understood why he’d been so unnerved by him. Cain was radiating an end to life, an unfortunate fate. He was radiating death.
Everyone has the capacity for death, Nash, his inner voice suddenly said. And it was true. Human serial killers had done more damage than this in the past. And with much more imaginative cruelty.
In fact, of all the monsters Nash had hunted down over the years, the human ones were always the worst. They always went the craziest. There was something about the human mind that afforded it just enough leeway to well and truly break. And a broken human mind was more deadly even than this.
Harley swallowed at last, turned away from the span of leveled bodies, and watched Julian Cain walk calmly down the sidewalk. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket and made a decision. He finally found that drawer to put everything into, shoved the drawer tightly closed, locked it up, and threw away the key. Then he followed his employer down the street.
When they reached the end, Cain turned to him. “You made the right choice, Nash.”
Harley narrowed his gaze on the man. Cain had known he was struggling. Maybe he’d known Harley had been considering turning him in to the Thirteen. Hell, maybe he’d been reading his mind, just as Harley suspected he could do. But it didn’t matter. Nash had nothing to hide.
“I hope so,” he said simply.
Cain smiled. It was an unexpectedly reassuring smile. “We must protect Helena Dawn at all costs, Mr. Nash. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Harley blinked. He looked back at the serene scene of death, then met his employer’s gaze once more. “I would.” It was true. Gods help him, it was true.
> Now Cain’s smile was almost proud. He patted Harley on the shoulder like a father would a son before continuing down the sidewalk. They rounded the corner and had gone half-way down the adjoining street when suddenly Cain stopped and glanced down, lifting his hands before his face.
Nash watched as his employer’s body slowly faded before his eyes. In a few short seconds, it was transparent – and all Harley could do was stand there and watch. A few seconds more, and Julian Cain vanished completely.
Harley Nash blinked again. Then his handsome brow furrowed, and he turned in place. What the hell was he doing standing in that location? He looked up at the sky. The rain had stopped. That was good. But he still had no idea why he was where he was. He must have blacked out, walked without thinking. There had been a lot on his mind lately… maybe that was it.
Plus, he was hungry. It had been too long since he’d fed well. He touched his gums with his tongue and felt the press of fangs waiting to slide from their hiding places and sink into dinner.
Time to eat. He slid his hands into his pockets and walked away.
Chapter Eight
…A clean slate…
Words whispered around him in the miasma of new opportunity, not quite formed but somehow still intelligible. William floated in the new not-quite-darkness that was the nothing just before something, and waited to be reborn.
…Family…
Things he’d always wanted teased and tempted and reminded him, and his brand new heart formed in his brand new chest. It beat once, twice.
…New chance, new dawn…
New brain cells formed, new synapses, and information filled the memory of his new mind.
…No longer alone…
Love is the same in any realm, Will. It’s time to trust your fate.
They were different, unexpected, and they were the last words Time said to him before he forgot who and what he was and opened his eyes upon the new world Time created for him. William Balthazar Solan was no more. He did not exist here, in this place, in this realm.
The Time King (The Kings Book 13) Page 5
