Black Blood (Time Spirit Trilogy, #2)

by Melissa Pearl

  Who glances over their shoulder to check if the coast is clear when entering their own office?

  “Someone who doesn’t want anyone to know what’s in there.”

  She bit her cheek. She hadn’t been into her father’s office for a while now. As children they were never allowed in there without him. As teenagers they didn’t really care about going in there at all. But things were changing. If her father was hiding something, she needed to know about it and if Gabe had anything to do with it, she definitely would.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida – 2011 AD

  Gemma felt her fingers twitch as her hand hovered over the brass doorknob. The sense of dread soaking into her muscles was painful as she tried to strike up the courage needed to achieve this endeavor. Biting the inside of her cheek, she twisted the handle and let the heavy door creak open beneath her weight, wincing still at the sound.

  She waited a full minute, straining for any sound of movement before inching the door open far enough to squeeze her body through. The hallway was pitch black, but she still gave in to the urge to check over her shoulder before entering the room. Clicking the door shut behind her, she leaned against the wood and closed her eyes, steadying her heartbeat and praying that her parents didn’t wake up in the next few minutes. After several deep breaths, she fought off the nauseating worry, flicked on the light and opened her eyes, ready for action.

  Gabe’s training had intensified since her little mishap in Chicago. She had been a little nervous the next time around, but he talked her through it… by the end of the day, she’d made it back to where she’d meant to go originally. A week later and she was traveling with relative ease. The day before she had managed to make it all the way back to 1901. Gabe had been quizzing her relentlessly on all her trips, gleaning as much information as he could. As she recounted various tales she had been able to remember some so vividly that she’d made it there and back again without even breaking a sweat. The further back she went, the harder it was, but with the help of pictures and research, she was finding the distance manageable and was confident she could make it back to Canon City in two days time.

  Her mind tingled as the thought of seeing Harrison again was becoming more and more bona fide. They had spent hours researching and they now knew that Coyote had spent nearly a week in prison before walking to the gallows. Gemma had to go back to the same day he was captured in order to make sure he met Mary on the same night. They couldn’t be certain she would get the timing exactly right with history not specifically recording it, but they had counted back as best they could. If she got it wrong she would just have to come back and try again the next day. She despised the idea and was fervently praying that she would only have to cross to 1885 once. Her nerves twittered at the thought of what she was going to do and the fact she would be doing it alone, but she couldn’t afford to focus on that. Right now, she had a job to do.

  She took a few steps into her father’s study as she fulfilled Gabe’s final request before leaving him that day. Scanning the room, she took in the large, polished desk, piled high with papers and historic books. Next to his rounded back chair sat the old globe she used to play with as a child. She remembered spinning it around as fast as she could then stopping it with her finger and declaring that she wanted to go to whatever country her digit was resting on. She could hear her father’s laughter as he shot her a wink and promised “some day.”

  Running her finger along the edge of his desk, she snuck around the stacks of books on the floor and stopped in front of the large safe, which she was sure housed every secret her father had.

  When Gabe had asked her to find out what was in the safe she had out right refused, but his constant persuading over the last week had broken her, not to mention the lurking feeling that he just might be right about her birthmark. She hadn’t been investigating very hard, but sure enough, she found one on Dom too. It was behind his left knee. She had spotted it while surfing and wiped out sufficiently enough to have Dom hassling her for days.

  She had been trying to subtly inspect her parents over the last week, but had had no such luck with them. She wasn’t quite ready to buy the whole tattoo story and start gouging a hole in her ankle, but she was willing to find out more. So here she was pilfering through her father’s belongings.

  As the days passed she found herself able to believe Gabe more easily. His calm manner and honest gaze had nearly won her over completely. She wished, just occasionally, that he was her father. But then the idea of Alistair killing Lena and stealing her as a baby was so repulsive she didn’t want to believe it. So she would jump back into the safe zone of believing that Gabe was just a really good guy whose theories on her parents were a little askew.

  Pulling back the intricately carved wooden door, Gemma stared at the lock and wriggled her fingers in preparation. She had been in here only that morning, hiding under the desk as she watched her father dial the combination. At one point she thought she was going to faint, her body was so tense with the prospect of being caught, but thankfully she’d faded into gold dust just before he turned. She’d had to time it perfectly and it had really been a fluke to even be in the position.

  After spotting him entering his office the first time, Gemma had been keeping a close eye on her father whenever she was home and she just happened to notice him do it again one afternoon. Once more he gave away his motives with a little look over his shoulder. This time Gemma had noted the time and snuck up to the door, listening with a careful ear. As she’d leaned up to the keyhole, she had heard the spin of a dial and the click of a lock coming free. Upon mentioning it to Gabe she was made to promise she would sneak into the office and find out exactly what was in that safe.

  Her heart accelerated as her mind ran with the various prospects of what she might find. Her fingers spun the lock to eighty-three, then danced it back to twelve, before turning it towards fifty-nine and hearing the click of release. Holding her breath, she turned the handle and pulled the metal door open.

  It took her a moment to open her eyes. The fear of having her growing suspicions confirmed was terrifying. When she did squeak her eyes open, she was relieved to find the safe filled with tattered journals and a wooden box as opposed to various potions and weapons.

  She snorted with mirth at her own imagination as she reached into the safe and pulled out the ancient looking box. It was about the size of a Kleenex box and decorated with exquisite carvings. Handling the piece with the utmost care, she pulled it into the light and studied the rich design. On the top of the box was a circular shape set into the heavy wood, obviously some sort of lock. Gemma ran her fingers over the indentations. It looked like a star with six points and a cogwheel shaped middle. She could almost taste the familiarity of the shape, but couldn’t quite place it. Setting the box aside, she reached for the leather pouch that had been resting under it. Untying the string, she emptied the contents into her hand and gasped.

  Picking up an arrowhead with shaking fingers, she held it to the light and recognised the Roman letters.

  “Tita,” she whispered before picking up another one.

  “Gaia.”

  And then another.

  “Titus.”

  And then another.

  “Mania.”

  And the last.

  “Manuius.”

  These arrowheads belonged to the electus. She grasped them in her fist and felt the pinch of pain. Whatever her father was up to, it felt wrong. Opening her palm again she looked at the arrowheads. They had had their leather bands removed. Her eyes traveled to the box.

  “A puzzle.”

  Lifting the first arrowhead she placed it in the depression of one of the star points. It didn’t quite fit and she had to try three more points until it slotted in perfectly. Pulling in a sharp breath, she quickly rifled through the rest of the arrowheads until they were all placed in their spots. All that remained was one more arrowhead and the centerpiece.

&nbs
p; “Gaius and Decimus.”

  Biting the inside of her cheek, she felt her brain exploding with questions. How long had her father had the box? How far off was he from collecting the last two pieces and if he did, what would the key be unlocking?

  She felt the power of its contents, even if she didn’t know what lay inside. It must be important if the seven parts of the key had been scattered far and wide.

  Am I holding Pandora’s box or a treasure chest?

  The creak of floorboards above made her jump. Scrambling with lightening speed, she dug the keys out of the lock and shoved them back into the leather pouch. Placing it in the safe, she tried to leave it exactly as she found it.

  Moments later she had the lock bolted and was diving for the study light. Standing against the door, she held her breath as she listened to the shuffle of feet coming down the stairs. She knew she couldn’t risk opening the door, so instead waited in rigid silence until, after what felt like a millennia later, she heard slippers scuffing over the tiles once more and the soft thud of feet on stairs.

  Leaning her head against the wood, she ordered oxygen through her nostrils. Whatever her parents were up to, she knew without a doubt that it wasn’t good.

  Gabe was right. Bad things were brewing.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  St Augustine, Florida – 2011 AD

  Gabe’s face was so impossibly hard to read sometimes. Gemma bit the inside of her cheek as she watched him soak in the news from her midnight escapade.

  “Astrum arca archa.” He nibbled on his lip. “Damn, I thought that was just a legend.”

  “Star box,” Gemma translated. “Well, legend or not, Gabe. I held the thing in my hands.”

  He let out a heavy sigh as he reached for his coffee.

  “What’s in it?”

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure.” He took a sip and winced as the hot brew hit his throat. “But if legend’s true, it holds seven vials of gold dust.”

  “Like what the priest stole from Decimus?” Gemma’s voice was a whisper as she watched Gabe’s head bob.

  “The power of that thing is terrifying, especially if it’s placed in the wrong hands.”

  He gave her a pointed look, making it all too obvious what he thought of her parents’ hands.

  “So the priest found each of the electus and stole from them?”

  “From what I’ve heard it was more than just one man, but some sort of secret society. By the time news of what they were doing reached each of the electus, it was too late. Lucia must have been heart broken. All those years she had spent trying to protect them.” Gabe shook his head.

  “Lucia,” Gemma whispered. “I like that name.”

  The cup in Gabe’s hands stilled and he gave her a long, deep look. She gazed back at him with a quirked eyebrow.

  His eyes began to shimmer with pleasure. “I’m glad.”

  Gemma was about to ask why when the phone in her pocket rang. Pulling it free, she gazed at the number and felt her body slump with a sigh. Rolling her eyes, she pressed the screen and forced an airy tone to her voice.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Sweetheart, where are you today? Ruby and I are going shopping. You should join us.”

  “Actually, I don’t really feel like shopping today.”

  “Why? What else will you be doing?”

  Oh I don’t know, heading back to 1885.

  She bit her cheek and waited in silence.

  “Gemma, what are you up to?”

  “Nothing.” She felt herself blush with a lie and noted Gabe’s broad smile. “I just don’t feel like shopping, that’s all. We spent the whole day together yesterday. I just feel like hanging out on my own for a while.”

  “You’re not still moping over that boy are you?”

  The question was said with such scathing that Gemma had to bite back a very sharp reply. The woman had no idea. Breathing in through her nostrils, she fought against the red haze of rage and plopped a cube of sugar into her voice.

  “I still miss him, Mom… and I’m allowed to do that. Just give me a break and let me have today, okay?”

  Her mother relented with an indignant huff. Gemma rolled her eyes again and listened to firm instructions about being home for dinner before hitting the screen and throwing her phone into the caravan’s small sink.

  Gabe let her simmer in silence for a while, but didn’t take his eyes off her.

  She eventually let out a sharp sigh and shook her head. “Can I just go and get my boyfriend back please?!”

  Gabe’s smile was slow and broad. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  Gemma’s nerves steadily grew as they went over the plan. Gabe quizzed her on what she could see, hear, smell, feel and taste as she prepared to send herself back to Canon City.

  “Okay, now just stop and take a deep breath.”

  Gemma opened her eyes and gazed at him as she pulled in a few decent mouthfuls of air.

  “I’m going to be gone a lot longer than a few minutes this time. Do you think Alistair will feel it?”

  Gabe shook his head. “I really can’t say. It’s a risk you’re gonna have to take.”

  She nodded, happy to accept it.

  “You know… this isn’t a guarantee, kid. He may not be waiting for you when you get back.”

  Her insides rebelled against the idea, but she knew she’d be a fool to rule it out. “I know Gabe, but I have to try.”

  He shot her an accepting smile and slapped her shoulder with affection.

  “Just, um, remember everything I’ve told you, watch your back and… return in one piece, okay?”

  “I will.” A lump formed in Gemma’s throat.

  Gabe’s eyes melted to soft butter as he studied her. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest.

  “Thank you.”

  He squeezed her tight and kissed the top of her head. Pushing her back by the shoulders, he held her at arms length.

  “You better get going.”

  “Okay.” She watched the birthmark on his collarbone pulse bright and shot him a nervous smile.

  “Close your eyes and visualize.”

  Gemma breathed in through her nose and let it whoosh through her teeth as she closed her eyes and pictured the outskirts of Canon City. As if picking up the crumbs of a cookie, she gathered them into her hand and crushed all her senses together forming a crystal clear image of where she had been.

  “Midday, September 20th, 1885.”

  She felt her body begin to quiver and tingle as her mind drew her back over one hundred years.

  “I love you, Lucia.”

  Just before her body shimmered to dust she caught Gabe’s whispered words and felt her body jolt with surprise before landing with a thud in the mid-western dust.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Canon City, Colorado – 1885 AD

  Gemma’s mind reeled as she rolled onto her back.

  My name’s Lucia?

  She scrubbed a hand over her face as the sound of distant hooves thundering over the dust threw her into 1885 with a jolt. She’d think about her name later. Scrambling to her feet, she hid behind a nearby shrub just in time to see a posse of riders heading out of town. She recognized the Sheriff and felt her hopes soar. She had the right day! Those riders were chasing after Coyote Granger and were about to come across the sight of her family leading him back to town.

  She bit back her grin and forced her mind to stop dancing and start focusing on what she needed to do.

  Clothes would be good, Gem.

  Sneaking out from behind the bush, she moved towards town with as much stealth as possible. Minutes later she came across a wooden farmhouse. Ducking beneath what smelled like the kitchen window, she listened for domestic noises and tried to decipher where each member of the household was. Bobbing up from her spot with lightening speed, she assessed the room with a quick scan and dropped back down to her haunches. It was lunchtime by the looks of t
hings. Creeping around the side of the house, she nearly cried with relief when she spotted a drooping clothes line adorned with various garments. Glancing over her shoulder, she snapped a shirt and some trousers from the line and dove for cover as she sensed the front door opening behind her.

  Scrambling into her new attire, she stood and found the pants heading for her ankles. Pulling them back up to her waist, she rolled the waist band over on itself until it was a smidgen tighter then shoved the bulky shirt into them to make them fit better. Her efforts were fruitless; as soon as she took one step the pants started heading south. There was no way she could bust Coyote out of prison if she had one hand clamped around her trousers. Peeking out from behind the bush, she noticed a young teenage boy stomping towards the barn. She eyed up his size and decided he would have to do.

  She ran towards the barn and snuck in behind him. His mumbles of complaint could be heard wafting over the stable wall as he scooped up piles of dirty hay with his pitchfork. Scanning her surroundings, Gemma formulated a plan and reached for the spade leaning against the wall. She was loathed to use it, but she filled her mind with thoughts of Harrison and approached with determine steps.

  Standing from his stall with a huff, the boy turned just in time to see her raise the spade high. She paused in her action, taking in his dusty skin and wide eyes.

  Lowering the spade with a loud sigh, she leaned against the handle.

  “I’m really sorry to do this to you, but I need your clothes.”

  He eyed her attire and Gemma was fascinated to watch his lips quirk and his shoulders begin to quiver with laughter.

  “I’m guessing you’d like my boots as well,” he drawled.

  “A horse would be good too.”

  He nodded, his eyes misty with contemplation. Tipping back his hat, he scratched his head. “I don’t really have a say in this, do I?”