by Kali Argent
Standing only inches away with the streetlamps at his back, Don towered above her like a giant shadow. The skin on his face and neck rippled—clearly a trick of the dim light—and she could practically feel the annoyance flowing off him.
“Stop talking and follow me,” he demanded, a low snarl distorting the last word.
“How did you do that? You were there.” She pointed to the cathedral doorway. “Now, you’re here.” Her heart pounded up into her throat again, and her hands shook as she stumbled away from him.
With a growl that sounded more animal than man, Don grabbed her elbow and jerked her against his broad chest. “Remember the part where I didn’t want to hurt you?”
Swallowing hard enough to make her throat burn, Charli pressed her lips together and nodded. No matter what she did now, this wouldn’t end well for her.
Don stared into her eyes unblinkingly. “Now, stop talking and let’s go.”
Charli’s mind slid into darkness, completely void of all thought, and quiet static hummed in her ears. “Okay,” she mumbled.
“Not going to happen, Morph. Let the girl go.”
The static vanished, and Charli jerked her head toward the sound of the voice. Reality came crashing back, flooding her with panic, and she nearly sobbed in relief at the sight of the newcomer. Just as big and imposing as her psycho date, he stood beyond the entrance of the church, his eyes fixated on Don.
Acting on instinct, she slammed her heel down on Don’s toes, distracting him long enough to wrench her arm out of his grasp. Without looking back, she sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and ducked behind her rescuer.
“I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but just consider me your biggest fan.”
The guy responded with a low grunt, but he did pull her closer to his muscled back, positioning himself between her and Don. “Give it up, Morph. The jewel is worthless without the girl, and you know it. Just hand it over.”
“Girl? What girl? Me girl?” I’m never dating again. If I make it home alive, I’m going to adopt six cats and learn to knit. “What jewel? What do I have to do with this?”
“Not now,” the new guy answered with a quick shake of his head. “I’m a little busy saving your life, if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, right, sorry.” Charli gripped the fabric of his black, leather jacket in her fists and pressed closer to his back. “Proceed.”
Staring up at his profile, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought the corner of his lips twitch into a fleeting smile before he addressed Don again. “What’s it going to be, Morph? We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but both end with that jewel in my hand.”
“Oh,” Charli praised, “that was good.”
There it was again, no mistaking it this time, a subtle, blink-and-miss-it, twitch of his lips. Pushing up on her tiptoes, she peered over his shoulder to see Don’s reaction. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but seeing her date turn into a plume of smoke and then vanish certainly hadn’t topped the list.
Her savior just sighed as he threaded his fingers through his long, golden hair. Charli, however, was in the midst of a panic attack.
“Did you see that? What was that? Holy smokes, and I guess I mean that literally since we’re in front of a church, and he just, well, you saw him. Did that really happen?” Her pulse pounded frantically in her throat, making her voice shake. “This can’t happen.”
Prying her hands from his thick, leather jacket, the guy turned and took her by the shoulders. “Charlotte, I need you to take a deep breath and relax.”
“I’m relaxed. Why? Do I not seem relaxed? I guess I’m just not used to people turning into freaking clouds of smoke in the middle of the French Quarter.” Extracting herself from his grasp, she shook her head and stumbled back. Charli dropped her purse and bent at the waist, resting her hands on her knees as she sucked in deep breaths of cool air. “It’s a character flaw. I’ll work on it.”
The guy, whoever he was, actually laughed as he held her shoulders again and pulled her upright. “You are very unusual, even for a human.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? For a human?” Great, only with her luck would the hero turn out to be just as insane as the villain. “Wait, how do you know my name?”
His gaze traveled along the curve of her neck, over her jawline, and finally up to her eyes. “I know a lot about you, Charlotte Rousseau.” Capturing a flyaway strand of hair, he tucked it behind her ear with a peculiar twist of his lips. “I am Lieutenant Vane Schiva, and I was sent here to protect you.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Lieutenant? Okay, so you’re military.” She stooped to retrieve her handbag and brush the dirt and water from it. “My dad was in the Navy, and I have a friend in the Marine Corps. Jar heads, they call them. I don’t really get it, but—”
“Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
Vane resisted the urge to laugh at the female again. “We need to go.”
“Oh, right. I live a few blocks down that way.” She pointed toward the northeast, stopped, turned half a step, and frowned. “Or is it that way?” Then she shrugged and began walking. “I’ll get us there.”
Vane had followed the Morphling through the time rip the demon had created to protect a woman he’d never met, because that was his assignment. He’d led countless missions, rescued numerous damsels in distress, and had fought in more battles than he cared to remember. None of his training had prepared him for the likes of Charlotte Rousseau.
“Do you always talk so much?”
Charlotte rounded her shoulders and tucked her arms close to her sides as she led him through the mostly deserted streets. “Yes, and before you ask, yes, I talk to myself a lot, too.”
“Why would I ask that?” The female confused him, but she also fascinated him. Vane couldn’t remember meeting anyone quite like her in his nearly five thousand years. “Wait, why do you talk to yourself?”
“Because I’m fascinating and insightful, and I enjoy my own company.”
“You’re being facetious?”
“More sarcastic, but I suppose facetious works as well.”
Vane stared down at the sidewalk with a furrowed brow. “You’re angry?”
Humans were so very strange. Rarely did they say what they actually meant. Instead, they relied on body language and awkward subtext to illustrate their emotions, which all seemed rather unnecessary and confounding.
“No.” Charlotte huffed as she swiped her wet, raven-colored hair back from her face. “I’m tired. I’m cold. I’m hungry. I just had the mother of bad dates, and I think I might be going crazy.” She bit down on the corner of her bottom lip and breathed deeply through her nose. “I’m not mad, though.”
That explanation, Vane understood. Presented with specific problems, he at least had a chance of correcting a few of the woman’s grievances. “Just a minute.” Sliding his jacket off, he draped it over Charlotte’s shoulders and pulled it tight around her. “Now, you’re warm. What was the next complaint?”
“They weren’t complaints,” she argued, but she snuggled down into his leather coat and sighed. Light spilled from the windows of a nearby café, illuminating Charlotte’s flushed cheeks and reflecting off the water droplets in her hair. “Thank you…Vane. Can I call you Vane? I mean, I know it’s your name, but maybe you prefer Lieutenant or Shiva or Lieutenant Shiva. I don’t want to be presumptuous. If you don’t like—”
“Vane is fine,” he interrupted. Great galaxies, she can talk. “I believe you said you were also tired, hungry, and…crazy.” He didn’t quite understand that last one, but the other two he could rectify. “This place serves food, correct?”
Charlotte nodded, and for once, she did so silently.
“I don’t have any currency from your…um, from your country, but I could sit with you while you eat and rest.” He watched her nose crinkle as she smiled—such an odd thing for him to notice. “Is that acceptable?”
&nbs
p; “That’s perfectly acceptable.” Instead of entering the building, she started walking again. “I really just want to go home,” she said when he fell into step beside her. “When I get there, I might never leave.”
“You’re scared.”
This time, he didn’t have to question her emotion. The female’s lower lip quivered when she spoke, and tension bled from every word as she clutched her bag to her chest like a lifeline.
Vane wanted to say something to reassure her, to comfort her. Until he retrieved the Jewel of Atrea and delivered the Morphling to Nekron to face charges, however, nothing was certain. In fact, the longer he remained in the past, the more uncertain the future became.
“Charlotte, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Damn it. Vane didn’t know what had compelled him to say it, and worse, now said, he couldn’t take it back.
“Because that’s your job?”
“Yes.” The half-truth tasted bitter on his tongue. “I was sent here to protect you.”
“You said that before, but I still don’t know what it means. Who sent you?”
“My commander.”
“Are you being purposely evasive?”
Yes. “No.”
“So, are you Navy? Army? I’m betting Marines.”
“Special forces,” he interjected. Dishonesty had never suited him, but he couldn’t very well tell her he’d traveled through time from an alien planet. “Uh, very top secret.”
Humans had made great strides during the twenty-first century, but intergalactic communications hadn’t been one of them. In fact, it would still be another hundred and twenty years before they discovered they weren’t alone in the universe, and many years after that before they accepted it.
Coming to a stop beneath a hanging wooden sign, Charlotte looked up at him and nodded. “This is me.”
“You live in a bakery?”
“It’s really more of a candy shop with fudge and pralines and assorted chocolates. Although, I have cupcakes on Thursdays and sticky buns on Saturday mornings, so I suppose I’m something of a baker as well.” Her brow furrowed, creating a cute dimple above the bridge of her nose. “I made caramel apples for the trick-or-treaters tonight. Did you know vampires like apples?”
Vane blinked. He didn’t even know where to start trying to make sense of the question. He remembered only minor details about Halloween from his Earth Culture courses during cadet training. Something about disguises and candy, though he didn’t quite understand how the two fit together.
“Well,” Charlotte said when he continued to stare at her without speaking, “I should probably…” Trailing off, she tilted her head to the side and made a clicking noise with her tongue. “So, uh, thanks for the assist back there.”
“Will you be okay?” Physically, she’d be safe. If Vane had to stand watch all night in the rain, he’d make sure of it.
Though her smile wobbled, she nodded again and produced a single silver key from the side pocket of her bag. “Do you like cinnamon rolls?”
“I’ve never tried one.” What he knew about Earth and its inhabitants mostly involved military alliances and economic trade. And the majority of that knowledge applied to thirtieth-century Earth.
“Well, that’s a shame, and easily rectified.” Charlotte unlocked the door of her shop and pushed it open. “That is, if you’d like to join me?”
Vane reasoned that maintaining a visual on the female would make it easier to protect her. She was, after all, just a job—or so he’d been reminding himself since they’d met.
“I’d like that.”
It worried him how easily she trusted. The girl had barely escaped a kidnapping, and yet, there she stood, inviting him inside her home for pastries. She didn’t even appear to be that upset about the ordeal, either. A hint of fear still rounded her shoulders and tightened her muscles, but Vane had expected full-blown hysteria by this point.
“You won’t be uncomfortable?”
“You mean because of what happened with Don, and the fact that I don’t know you?”
Is she serious? She sounded serious. “For starters, yes.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I figure if you wanted to kill or kidnap me, you wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to save the day and walk me home.”
True in this case, but still, incredibly naïve. “We should get inside.” Vane ushered her across the threshold and locked the door behind them. “It’s just a precaution,” he explained so as not to frighten her.
Again, Charlotte shrugged. “I’m not scared of you, Vane.”
You should be. He’d never hurt her, not purposely, but just knowing him came with dangers of its own. The Morphling would return, and he wouldn’t be forgiving of Vane’s intrusion.
“Charlotte—”
“Charli,” she interrupted. “Everyone calls me Charli.”
“Why?”
“It’s a nickname.”
Vane shook his head. “I like Charlotte.”
Even in the harsh, fluorescent lighting, her fair, flawless complexion glowed. Her dark, wet hair hung straight down the slope of her back, and water dripped from the ends and splashed against the floor. Standing so close to her now, Vane winced at how small she appeared next to him. The top of her head brushed just under his chin, and her tiny frame had been swallowed by his jacket.
Humans—so fragile and finite. He’d stand guard over the girl, and keep her safe from the Morphling. In the end, though, it wouldn’t matter. In a few years—just a blink of existence for him—she’d be gone, defeated by age and claimed by death.
“Vane?”
“Hmm?” Blinking, he pushed away his morbid thoughts and tried to focus. “Did you say something?”
“I asked if you’d like something to drink.” She pointed toward a swinging door at the back of the room behind the counter. “I was going to make coffee. I also have water and milk in the fridge if you’d prefer.” She tapped the center of lips while her brows pinched together. “I think I have some sodas upstairs.”
“Coffee will be fine.”
Like the cinnamon rolls, he’d never tasted coffee, but Earthlings seemed to love the damn stuff. They’d created entire industries around the drink, and even something called a Starbucks, which surprisingly, had nothing to do with stars or deer.
Sliding Vane’s jacket off her shoulders, Charlotte held it out to him, combing her fingers through her damp locks when he took it. “I’m going to run upstairs and change out of these wet clothes. I’ll just be a minute.”
Vane draped the jacket over the back of a chair that sat near one of the circular tables and turned to follow. “Lead the way.”
Her pink lips parted, but then she pressed them together again and shook her head. “I won’t take long.”
“I need to make sure it’s safe,” he explained. He doubted the Morphling would return so soon, but he wouldn’t leave anything to chance.
“Right, of course.” She tilted her head toward the double doors behind the counter. “This way.”
He should have been out tracking his adversary, but that would require leaving Charlotte alone and unprotected. On the other hand, he had no doubt the Morphling would return for the female, and when he did, Vane would be waiting.
The female led him through the swinging doors and past a small kitchen with gleaming stainless steel counters and appliances. When they reached the staircase in the back corner, Vane stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and eased her behind him.
Taking the lead, he crept up the steps, cursing internally when the wood creaked beneath his boots. Vibrating with impatience, he strained to hear anything out of place inside the apartment while he waited for Charlotte to unlock the door.
“Stay here.” It took him less than two minutes to search the tiny one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment and declare it safe to enter. “Go ahead,” he said when he met her back at the door. “I’ll wait downstairs.”
He didn’t like leaving her alone, but
he hadn’t done a full check of the lower level yet. Not for the first time since his departure from Nekron, he wished Xavian had been well enough to accompany him. Vane couldn’t be in two places at once, couldn’t watch over Charlotte and track the Morphling.
Plus, his friend knew far more about the humans than he did, which made his assistance in capturing their target invaluable. However, it wasn’t his first solo mission, and he’d make do with the resources at hand.
After doing a sweep through the kitchen on the lower level, and then another through the front part of the store, he ducked out into the rain to do a quick perimeter check. Satisfied when he found everything quiet, he returned inside to wait for Charlotte to finish changing.
Lowering himself into the chair he’d draped his jacket over, he leaned back and studied his surroundings. The pale pink walls with depictions of brightly colored candies reflected Charlotte’s personality so perfectly, he couldn’t help but smile.
Above him, the support beams creaked under Charlotte’s muffled footsteps as she moved around in her apartment. The overhead lights buzzed, just a quiet hum, and from the far wall behind the counter, the ugliest clock he’d ever seen ticked down the passing time. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled across the sky, heralding the coming storm. Wind battered against the front door of the shop and whistled through the cracks, while fat rain drops plinked off the sidewalks and storefront windows.
Vane found the symphony of sounds relaxing, a bit too relaxing. When his eyelids began to droop, he rose from his seat, rubbing both hands over his tired eyes. Frustrated with his body’s limitations, he grumbled a string of curses under his breath as he paced the pink and white checkered tiles in front of the display cases.
After the meeting with his commander, he’d received details about Charlotte and a refresher course on Earth etiquette. Then Cato had given him the standard lecture about the dos and don’ts of time travel before sending Vane on his merry way. He’d been coming to the end of a twelve-hour shift when the Morphling had appeared, and he’d been awake for another twelve hours before that.
