Time Jacker

by Aaron Crash

  Every kill filled him with what had to be Kairos. His head felt great. He felt great, full of the energy the cyclops birds had siphoned off the truck driver.

  Bailey rose from where she’d been crouching. Her eyes were on him as Jack stalked up to the last Fug alive. He jammed a bootheel into the thing’s skull, crunching through bone. He felt that energy wash up into him.

  Bailey nodded. “Oh, you killed more Fugs. Cool. I’m getting back into the car.”

  Jack watched as the creatures began to dissolve into a puddle and then vanish. He then slid into the driver’s seat. Bailey, in the back seat, looked better after getting rid of the desserts.

  Jack set his foot on the gas pedal, half pushed to the floor, and clicked the toy soldier to the right, and time started with a jerk. He’d kept the steering wheel straight, and they continued down the highway.

  Bailey leaned forward, talking to him from between the seats. “That was good shooting. You’re police, right? But, no, you don’t have the fancy uniform. Your other uniform was like a mall cop’s. So what’s your story, mystery man? It’s time you answered some of my questions.”

  Jack didn’t want to talk about himself, but he knew he had to play the game. Tit for tat. “I’m a security guard. My dad was a cop. I was going to be one, but fate had other ideas.”

  “Well, that’s pretty fucking cryptic,” Bailey complained. “Don’t wanna share your backstory?”

  “Maybe if you tell me what those things were back there.”

  Bailey caught his eye in the rearview mirror. Her makeup had run a bit, which made her look even sexier, if that were possible. “They were Fugs. Obviously.”

  “Are there different species or whatever?” he asked.

  “Like I fucking know. Why didn’t you follow in your father’s footsteps?”

  “What happened to Annie Blackburn at the bank?”

  “Annie who?” Bailey seemed thoroughly confused.

  “So, I saved Evelyn Mundi, right? From Horns. Only, I didn’t kill Horns—that was the Fug that was feeding off her. Annie worked as a bank teller, a pretty brunette with...” He was going to say she had a big ass, but he didn’t exactly want the sex demon thinking of Annie that way. “A pretty brunette who disappeared that same night. If you didn’t kidnap her, who did?”

  “Kerrata, probably,” Bailey said. Surprise, surprise, the sex demon seemed eager to help. Most likely, Bailey thought she’d wind up banging Annie, and that gave her some incentive. “You stopping time caught my attention. Then I noticed that whole thing between you and Kerrata. He’s not your normal Fug. Most of the time, the Fugs don’t have that much power. I mean, like those bird things, they snack on people’s Kairos and then move on. Probably shaved a decade off that driver’s life.”

  Jack had to think about that for a minute. When Fugs snacked on people, they removed the minutes of their life. “So with Evelyn, how long is she going to live after all that time with Kerrata?”

  “Dammit, Jack, I’m a sex demon, not a cardiologist. I don’t know. But I do know that Evelyn should probably invest in life insurance. The Fugs sometimes dine for a long time, the slow seconds, or they gulp down the quick minutes.”

  “So if Kerrata kidnapped Annie, where would he take her?” Jack asked.

  “An eon palace, maybe. It depends on what Kerrata’s endgame is. And before you ask, an eon palace is a special realm, outside of time and space. Where did they come from? Not something I know or care about. I stay clear. But if you’re any kind of royalty—angel, demon, or Interim—you might have your own eon palace. I know the duke has one, though he spends most of his time in hell.”

  “Tanichron, a duke of hell,” Jack clarified.

  “Bingo.” Bailey paused. “So you want to find Annie. I remember getting a read on her in the bank, but it all happened too fast, and I was all pumped up on your energy...because, dude, you don’t just leak Kairos, you have all the Septua energies.”

  “The seven energies of creation. Okay.” Jack was still shocked that he’d discovered a strange new world right in the middle of what he once considered reality.

  “Annie might’ve seemed like a nice girl, Jack, but she had some dirty thoughts. If she’s the one I’m thinking of. Brunette? Nice big ass? She had an ass for days. Don’t you just love the human female form? It’s all curvy and soft and it smells so good.” Bailey fanned herself. “Getting a little hot back here.”

  “Don’t tell me about Annie’s secret sexual life. I don’t want to know.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I do. But I’ll hear it from her once I find her, and if we click.”

  Bailey sang out, “Jack and Annie, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes an orgy in a horse-drawn carriage.”

  “You can’t have an orgy in a carriage, I don’t think.”

  Bailey tsked him. “Believe me. You can. I have.”

  He did believe her.

  “Uh, Jack, where are we going?”

  “I’m going to rob a rich asshole.”

  “Sounds like quality wrongdoing.” Bailey grinned. “As a soulless sex demon, I approve of any immorality. But won’t you feel guilty?”

  “Depends on a few things,” Jack said. “How rich are they? Are they evil assholes? And how much will it hurt them? What can you tell me about Tim Tarrington and his son, Preston?”

  “Dammit, Jack, I’m a sex demon, not Google.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “What?”

  “That you’re this and not that?”

  “It’s an old joke, as old as the world—at least as old as the 60s. Reminds me of a joke. A guy gets up to go to work and his wife tells him the sink’s leaking. He tells her, ‘I’m a banker, not a plumber,’ and leaves her to deal with it.”

  “What a dick,” Jack said, changing lanes.

  “Yeah, he was, Anyway, he gets home, sink’s fixed, her hair’s up, and she has what looks like cake batter on her cheek. The banker asks her, ‘Did you call the plumber?’ and she says, ‘Yeah, but when it came time to pay I realized I didn’t have enough cash, so he told me I could either let him come on my face or bake him a cake.’ The banker asked, ‘What did you do?’”

  Jack snickered. He had a pretty good idea where this was going.

  “She wiped her cheek and said, ‘I’m not a baker, and this isn’t cake batter.’” Bailey laughed until she was almost crying, but she stopped so the tears wouldn’t ruin her mascara. “Oh, that joke is funny, but that’s not why I have my catchphrase.”

  Jack glanced over at her. He was pretty sure the joke had been a true story. From his time in the women’s showers, it certainly sounded like Bailey’s handiwork. “You were going to tell me about the Tarringtons.”

  “I wasn’t. I don’t know. I have to be near them or their shit to get a read on them. And mostly I can just tell you about their kinks.”

  “I hope they’re sick fucks,” Jack said. “Because then I’ll rob them blind.”

  Bailey let out a happy breath. “You’re so hot when you’re immoral.”

  His phone led him right to the mansion of the Tarringtons, one of two houses they had in an exclusive neighborhood. Preston lived in one, the older Tarrington lived in another. Jack went to Preston’s place. He’d seen firsthand how much of an asshole that guy was.

  However, Jack also knew his hatred of Preston Tarrington grew out of his loathing of Plum Creek’s Malcolm family. In a very real sense, the Malcolms had destroyed Jack’s life.

  He shook off the memories. If he never thought about the Malcolms again, it would be too soon.

  Jack didn’t park. He didn’t want his car on any security cameras, but he had the perfect solution for that. A click of the soldier, and his car and all of time came to a screeching halt.

  He and Bailey got out. When it was time to start up the Influunt, yes, his car might be spotted in the neighborhood, but it wouldn’t have appeared to stop at all.


  He and Bailey approached the house, and Jack tried the front door. It was locked. There was no help for it. He’d have to smash a window. Well, in the grand scheme of things, it was only glass.

  “Keep an eye out for Fugs,” Jack said.

  “Always,” she agreed. “Fugs like demon Kairos as much as they like humans. They’ll even eat angels. I don’t blame them. I’d eat an angel.”

  Jack shot her a quizzical look. “Literally?”

  Bailey rolled her smoky eyes. “No, not literally. I was talking about oral sex. I bet angel pussy is sweet.”

  “Spoken like a true sex demon.”

  He went around to the back of the house, took a block from a retaining wall, and got ready to throw it through the back patio door.

  A voice stopped him. “Jonathan Andrew Masterson. What do you think you’re doing?”

  With time stopped, he expected he might get attacked by some Interim monster. But to be admonished by a beautiful blond woman who could see him? That was new.

  Chapter Twelve

  JACK DROPPED THE HUNK of retaining wall rock into the grass. The voice of the woman was one thing. Her appearance was another.

  Standing before him was an angel. How could he tell? A golden halo of righteous light illuminated her shining blond hair. That halo shone as brightly as her eyes. Her wings were big, fluffy, and white, and she wore a gleaming white tunic. A sheathed sword hung off a solid gold belt. On the other side was a curled golden horn. She also had several golden rings and two thick golden bracelets.

  “Who am I?” The angel had perfect pink lips. They seemed even pinker, her skin seemed whiter, in all the light. “I am Gabriella Jibra Jibril of the Pinturicchio Legion. And I’ve been watching you, Jonathan, and so far, I can’t accuse you of any wrongdoing. But this? This is an example of wrongdoing.”

  Jack had to take a minute to think about the last few days. He was pretty sure he did something not quite right every day. Then he remembered. “What about what Bailey and I did in the shower with Wanda?”

  The angel kept her halo, but the glow left her eyes. They were a sweet cornflower blue, so light, so soft, so different from Bailey’s single icy blue orb. “The sin of lust wasn’t yours, Jack.” She sighed. “It was this rogue sex demon’s lust. And really, Beyazul Baal? It’s not BB? Name change or not, it’s not like heaven will forget what you are and what you’ve done.”

  Bailey marched right up to the angel. She stuck a scarlet fingernail up in the air. “All I’ve done is eat. I mean, your boss created me to fuck. And believe me, I’ve fucked. You should try some Ijjinaya, sweet tits. You might enjoy the tingle you get in your little yellow whisker biscuit.”

  The angel put a hand to her mouth. Her cheeks glowed with a blush. “That’s lewd! Why must you debase the holy act of lovemaking with such foul language?”

  “Because sometimes it’s lovemaking and sometimes it’s fuck-making.” From out of nowhere, Bailey pulled a black war pick, some medieval-looking weapon with chains on the shaft and dual heads, one under the other. “Out of our way, angel!”

  “I will not let you corrupt him, demon!” The blonde unsheathed her sword, which, of course, was imbued with a magical glow.

  Jack stepped between the angel and the demon. “Hold up. I know you two were built to fight, but I don’t have much time, and I need to get into that house.”

  “Why, Jonathan?” the angel asked, a hurt look in her soft blue eyes. “Why would you choose to go down the wrong path?”

  “It’s probably not so black and white as that,” he said. “Unless you can get me cash in other ways.”

  Bailey’s tail flashed out from under her dress and shoved Jack to the side, and that war pick came down. Those twin spikes almost found a bloody home in the angel’s chest. At the last minute, however, Gabriella Jibra Jibril brought her sword up and caught the pick.

  Bailey whipped the sword away and shoved the angel back. The demon let out a scream, a single word: “Exoria!” And the angel vanished. Gone.

  “Bailey? What the hell?” Jack asked.

  The demon shrugged. “It’s fine. She was getting in the way of our fun. Don’t worry, it’s not like she’s under Marianna. I don’t know what this Pinturicchio Legion is, but it’s probably one of the lesser armies. Heaven has all these armies, and some you gotta take seriously, but others you can ignore.”

  “And what’s Exoria?” he asked.

  Bailey winked at him. “Old school banishment spell I learned from this nasty witch in Italy a few centuries ago. We have a second. To be honest, I didn’t think it would work. She must be new. Which means no one is going to listen to her. The angels are ridiculously hierarchical.”

  Jack pointed at the war pick. “And where did that come from?”

  “It’s my tooth,” she said. “All demons are made with a weapon we call our tooth. Back when I was new, all of hell was trained for the Tempus Bellum, whether we wanted to fight it or not.” She flicked her hand, and the war pick vanished in a cloud of smoke. Her tail was gone as well.

  Jack retrieved the big stone block off the ground. Now that he knew heaven was watching, he had to pause for a minute. What kind of a man did he want to be?

  He didn’t know. But he did know that both Preston and his father had screwed their fair share of people in their time. The lawsuits had been endless, and there had been some really tragic stories. Bottom line, Preston Tarrington could afford to fix the glass, and he could afford to lose some of his pocket change.

  Jack flung the stone through the patio door near the lock. The window shattered. Everything was still silent, so time hadn’t started again.

  Jack walked across the broken glass.

  Bailey followed. “Wow. I thought all that angel talk might stop you.”

  He turned. The headache was starting—probably because he’d had to stop time for all of Bailey’s puking. If only he could track his powers better. He needed a dashboard. “What about you, Bailey? You saved Evelyn Mundi and you didn’t need to. Are you evil?”

  Bailey gave him a withering look. “Of course I’m evil. Duh. I’m one of hell’s minions. It’s just...sometimes...I find myself liking humans. They’re interesting, and I like all the sex, and really, you have your tragic backstory, and I have mine, okay?”

  She pulled off her red dress and dropped it into a pile in the kitchen. She was just wearing her stilettos. She walked past him, her hips wobbling, her ass moving up and down with every stride. So very hot.

  She turned and he got a nice view of her tits and her eyes. “Well, now, let’s go up to the bedroom, and I can tell you all about these horny people.”

  The house was gorgeous, and sure, they had alarms, but with time paused, the alarms weren’t going to be working any time soon.

  He checked the office, and no one was there. After going through the many rooms, it was clear no one was there, so grabbing a wallet was out of the question. He checked where most people kept money—various drawers, the freezer, and, yes, there was a safe in the closet, but it was locked, and he couldn’t magic it open.

  Jack could’ve stolen some of the electronics, or the art, but he wasn’t about to deal with fencing shit. This was turning out to be a waste of time, which was ironic for a guy who could stop time.

  Besides, someone like Preston Tarrington might not be liquid. He might have every nickel of his money either in the bank, in stocks, or in land.

  Jack thought of the angel again, and how she’d come to stop him. He pinched his eyes close. Fuck. All this shit wasn’t feeling right. His moral compass wasn’t happy about the breaking and entering.

  “Jack!” Bailey’s voice came from upstairs. He stopped in the kitchen and picked up her dress. The house smelled like rich people—there was a definite smell. Did the wealthy hire the same cleaning staff for everyone?

  He went upstairs to find Bailey squatting naked beside a chest at the foot of a massive king-sized bed. She’d showered, her hair was wet, and her makeup was even more smeared
. He liked the wet, slutty look.

  “How did you shower?” he asked. The water would’ve been stuck in time.

  The demon gave him a withering look. “If I can pull hot volleyball out of the timestream, I can fucking take a shower.”

  “Good point. Find anything valuable?”

  Baiely turned with a huge black dildo, one with a suction cup at the bottom. “Only Vicky Tarrington’s sex toys. Vicky likes ’em big and thick, Jack. It seems Preston has a little dick, but he likes to use it. A lot. He has a thing for prostitutes...I mean, he literally likes to pay for pussy. The wife kinda knows, but they don’t talk much. Besides, she’s screwing the pool boy. Cliché much? Talk about eternal truths. And if thee ignores thine wife, she shall sucketh the pool boy’s cock. So say we all.” She shook the fake dick at him. Then she showed him a few other toys in there: butt plugs, vibrators, a whole treasure trove of sex toys.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know the combination of the safe downstairs, would you?”

  She shook her head. “I just get their sex life and their kinks. No numbers. No other information. Like I’ve been telling you, I’m pretty focused on one thing, and one thing only.” She knee-walked over to him. “Smelling the Tarringtons, taking a peek into their lives, has me all horny, Jack. How about you and I seal the deal? We both know it’s going to happen. We both want it. And it’s not like you and Annie have exchanged rings, or vows, or whatever. Humans still marry, I know that, but I don’t know much about the ritual. Is the chicken dance still a thing?”

  “Still a thing.” Jack stared down at the naked woman squatting in front of him, gazing up at him with her strange eyes, and that smoky makeup, smeared from her shower. It was all just a part of her getting used to having a body again. His head was hurting a bit, but it wasn’t bad.

  She set the dildo on the floor next to her. “What do you say, Jack?”

  Seeing her tits out, her nipples tightening, had him hard. “Why are you doing this? To snack on my Ijjinaya?”

  “A little. Mostly, I like you, and I want you to like me.” She reached out to caress his bulge. Her touch was electric.