Sable Book 1 of Chaos Time (Chaos Time Series)

by Marie Hall

  He snorted, glaring at her openly now. “Did Broderick send you? Well screw you and him. Deal was forty/sixty. He knew that going in and...”

  She shook her head, confused and flustered and she really wanted to rip Hunter a new one. Did he really think she’d be able to pull this off?

  “Peace,” Slayde muttered, dropping his gun back into his book bag and shrugged it on. He turned on the heels of his shiny yellow doc martins and walked away.

  She bit her lip, staring at the pile of guts and bits of body parts and she gagged. What the hell had that thing been anyway? What kind of place was this? It didn’t look at all like the Earth she’d known. Was this an alternate realm Hunter had mentioned?

  She didn’t want to be here alone. She could protect herself, but she hated being alone. She looked up to see the black tail of Slayde’s trench coat flap behind him when he turned out the entrance and down the sidewalk.

  “Wait!” she yelled after him, sliding on a puddle of sleek nasty bits and scrabbling for purchase on the pitted wood floor. She got outside as he was rounding the corner. “Wait, Slayde. I’m not...I’m not—”

  He turned wearing a scowl on his face. His forehead furrowed with lines of anger. Quicker than she could track, he had his gun aimed back at her. “Don’t follow me,” he warned, “I’ve killed younger than you.”

  She stopped on a dime, holding up her hands in a defensive posture. She heard the truth in his words and saw it scrawled on his face. He’d kill her and she’d seen what he could do. The power of that red stuff was scary.

  It dawned on her that it was the middle of the freaking day here, the sun at its zenith in the sky and he had a gun aimed square at her with no fear of being caught doing it. What kind of place was this? Where was she? When was she?

  “What year is this?” she finally asked. Her heart thudded so loud it sounded like gunshot in her head.

  He blinked and his gun tipped down. It was now aimed at her foot. She took a ragged breath, feeling somewhat relieved by that.

  “What?” he asked. “Who are you?” The gun was still tipping down, now barely dangling from his hooked finger. But the way he handled the weapon she knew she couldn’t afford to feel too comfortable. That gun was like an extension of himself, and could and would be up and aimed unswervingly back at her heart within a fraction of an instance if she so much as sneezed.

  She licked her lips. “My name is Sable Ray and...” Was she really doing this? Would he even believe her? She hadn’t believed Hunter? “I need you to come with me.”

  Yup, she’d known it. Like a skittish colt, that gun was back up before she’d even managed to blink. The cold look back on his face.

  “I...I don’t know who Broderick is, never met him or seen him in my life.”

  Funny how a brain works. Because at that moment she should be feeling terror at the possibility of being nothing more than gray matter smeared on the hot concrete beneath her feet. Instead all she could focus on was a sudden overwhelming itch in the middle of her back that she desperately wanted to scratch.

  “Who sent you?” he asked, but this time she could swear it held less venom.

  “His name is Hunter Gray.”

  He scratched the side of his face with the muzzle of his gun and her eyes almost bugged out. She knew it wasn’t loaded, but still. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “What year is this, Slayde?” she tried again, maybe if she could say something to convince him she was telling the truth. Whatever that truth was, even she was having a hard time dealing with all this.

  “Twenty-twenty four.”

  “The hell?” she breathed before she could censure herself, “Where am I?”

  Now he really looked confused and again those unbelievably gorgeous eyes were narrowing; and why was she suddenly so aware of his every minute detail? Who cared if he had nice eyes, he had a freakin’ gun aimed at her! What was wrong with her that she really didn’t care? Was she that jaded that reality no longer registered?

  She sighed. “Look, I’m not crazy and if you’d put that stupid gun down I could maybe convince you of that.”

  He glanced at the gun and the way he looked at it, it was creepy weird how she could almost read his thoughts. Like some part of her knew him so well she could tell verbatim what he was thinking.

  She’s crazy. Can I trust her? Should I? I should leave. But...(he looked at her, chewing on his bottom lip and her heart did that crazy thumping thing again and she shifted on the balls of her feet) there’s just something about her.

  Okay, so maybe that conversation was totally what she wanted to hear, but she still felt a flood of warmth at the final thought.

  “Fine,” he grumbled and shoved the gun back into his bag. “Have you eaten yet?”

  It wasn’t a date. But still, she felt a little lightheaded at the thought of going someplace with him. “I could eat again.”

  He rolled his eyes and turned on his heels. “Whatever. You’ve got until I’m done with my pizza to convince me.”

  She almost laughed remembering she’d given Hunter the same ultimatum. He hadn’t convinced her.

  “Impossible situations,” she muttered.

  She caught up with him, shoving her hands into her pockets. He glanced down at her, he was a good half-foot taller than her and she’d never considered herself a short girl.

  “So speak,” his voice was thick with gruff. She wondered why. “Where am I?”

  “Bird girl,” he growled, “you’d better not be sh—”

  “That sounds stupid. If you’re not gonna call me Sable then you can call me Phoenix. But that makes me think of some cheesy comic book character.” She made a face.

  “Fine, Nix you are.”

  Was he teasing her? And why did she suddenly want to stifle a stupid giggle? She never giggled. She glowered, hating how weird he was making her feel. “Whatever.”

  “We’re in New Skid Row,” he finally said a heartbeat later.

  She glanced up, confused for a second. “You mean Skid Row, right?”

  “If I meant Skid Row I would have said that,” he all but growled it.

  So clearly this was Skid Row post rift. “Oh.” She should have known it was someplace craptastic like that. What with the way the cinder block buildings were crumbling at her feet and most of the windows were boarded up with sheets of wood and thin metal. The sidewalk itself was raised in some spots, missing in others, and weeds were growing everywhere.

  This was crazy. The only other vanished place she’d been to had looked so beautiful and inviting. Now, only a few years from her time, this was the total opposite. Maybe humans, or meta humans (or whatever the hell they were now) were still capable of turning beauty into trash even in a planet that was semi-sentient.

  He turned down a couple of roads until finally stopping at a small, non-descript white building with an open window and a sign that read: Maggio’s Pizza. He ordered two slices of the works and then walked her over to a rickety table to the side of it.

  The sun was beating down, but she found she actually liked the warmth of it. She sighed. He returned her stare, questions in his depths but he didn’t ask anything.

  She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Look, this all sounds stupid to me too, took me a while to get on board and I’m not sure I’m totally there yet either, but whatever...” she waved her hand, not looking at him anymore when a man in a white cap sat the plates down in front of them and walked off. She picked at the oozing cheese. It smelled good, like sausage and peppers. But her nerves wouldn’t let her eat.

  He however had no problems. He was taking huge man bites out of his slice. With three ridiculously large bites he had it downed. He was licking his fingers and then started eyeing her slice. “It’s getting cold,” he said.

  She curled her nose and pushed it toward him. “Not hungry.”

  He shrugged, snatched it up and had it polished off in a matter of minutes. Then he sat back, bumped his fist into his chest, and gave a loud belch.r />
  Able to see beyond his looks to the piggish man he was, she curled her nose and shook her head. “You’re disgusting.”

  “Well,” he said, pushing away from the table, “you didn’t convince me. But,” his hot gaze traveled the length of her face, “I no longer want to kill you either. Just go away, girl. Take some meds, and I’ll pretend this never happened.”

  Her back straightened. “I’m not crazy.” Her fingers gripped the thin metal mesh of the table, fire seeped out her palms.

  He pushed the chair back, ignoring her and that was it. She saw red and was hurtling herself over the table, her hand wrapped suddenly around his neck as she squeezed.

  He looked shocked, not terrified, but amazed she’d been able to get the jump on him.

  Her muscles trembled as common sense finally caught up to her impulse and she snatched her hand back. He rubbed his neck, but she didn’t see anger or condemnation...she was surprised to discover a twinkle of what might have been admiration staring back at her.

  Discombobulated, she frowned, tucking her hand behind her back. “Look, I’m not crazy. I’m from the past. Hunter’s my...our,” she huffed, “I don’t know, he was our leader from the future.”

  She knew she was totally screwing this up and was fumbling her way through but he stood there, so she continued.

  “We all died, and some awful douche bag is wreaking havoc and killing folks and we screwed up the first time and now we have to do it again.”

  He smacked his lips. “Okay, one,” he held up a finger, “I’m confused totally. But two,” he ticked up another, “don’t give a damn. Not my war.”

  “Ugh!” She threw up her hands and jumped off the table. “Look, I can’t explain this right and I don’t know why he sent me here without him, he would have been much better at this than me. He would have told you all about cancer and black hole quantum physics and time jumping and—”

  He shook his head with a deep rumble of laughter. “He sounds like an arrogant prick to me and I can already tell I would have hated him.”

  She stopped and couldn’t help the half-chuckle. “He’s much better in person.”

  “But the answer would still be no.” He shrugged with a completely unapologetic snort of derision. “I still wouldn’t care. Not if twenty thousand people were gonna die—”

  “But...”

  “Nope. Not even if you told me a black hole was getting ready to suck my father up. The answer would still be no. I’m not a hero, don’t want to be.”

  This was beginning to feel like an impossible task? You couldn’t convince someone to save the world when they didn’t seem to give a crap about it in the first place.

  And his dad? That was just cold. Much as she hated her mother she still would have tried to save her. She could not understand for the life of her what she found so intriguing about him; he was an asshole. But then he hadn’t pretended to be otherwise.

  She remembered what Hunter had said right before he’d dipped out with his little healer.

  Slayde had already begun walking away.

  “You’ll be paid!” she yelled it, not caring who heard her.

  Like night to day, he turned and the smile on his face was pure greed. “How much?”

  Hunter hadn’t told her. But she assumed it would have to be enticing enough to get him to follow. “A lot.”

  “A lot is an arbitrary number. A lot to you, could be nothing to me,” he said it with a twist of his lips, but she sensed him weakening.

  “All I know for certain, is when he sent me to you he knew you’d only come for cash. If he knew that, he must know you don’t come cheap.”

  She twisted her fingers behind her back, hoping she’d said the right thing. Hoping it was enough, because she honestly had no clue how much Hunter planned to give him. Her heart pounded so hard she could taste the adrenaline surge.

  He grabbed his chin. “You drive a hard bargain. There’s nothing I hate more than a mystery.” He took another second to study her and just when she thought she might snap from the nerves he finally nodded. “Fine, but if it’s not to my liking, I walk. Got it.”

  She almost sank to her knees in relief. “That’s it? I don’t have to convince you? You’ll come?”

  “Pretty bird speaks my language. Far as I’m concerned the rest is incidentals.”

  “Wow,” she smirked, “you really are a heartless uncaring bastard, aren’t you?”

  He laughed. “Yup. Yup. And yup. So let’s go, kid.”

  She bristled and knew that was how it was always gonna be with him. One second she’d be laughing, the next pissed to no end, but always, always pulled in against her will. She hated him already.

  “I’m not a kid.”

  His look said: whatever you say, bird.

  “Hunter!” she roared in frustration, “take us out of here!”

  Chapter 13: Times...they are a’changin’

  Sable had already been gone two days. Not unusual. Time travel was such a crazy thing. Where she was at, she’d probably only feel as if hours had passed. But he was grateful for the time, he’d had the chance to explain things to Arianna—that name felt strange to him, he’d always known her as Synn. She’d been a little less disbelieving than Sable had been, but unlike Sable, Synn knew she had no place else to go.

  She wasn’t happy. And that was the understatement of the year. Her family had been murdered in front of her eyes, she’d killed for the first time, and the worst part of it was, he’d known.

  He took a deep breath. But just because he’d known and knew he could have stopped it, could have gone in and whisked her family to safety, prevented a true healer from the necessity of taking life, he wouldn’t stop it.

  He’d learned that lesson the hard way. He hadn’t lied to Sable, the future as he knew it and knew how to stop it from happening, depended entirely on not changing what must be. He could play God, but with disastrous consequences.

  Hunter steepled his fingers, his chin rested on his hands, his elbows on his knees as he studied the sleeping form of Synnergy laying pale and silent atop the gaudy Cleopatra themed chaise lounge. He’d remembered an old abandoned props warehouse in Hollywood. It would serve as their temporary hide out for now. A large metallic, hastily built structure at the turn of the twentieth century divided up into many different sub rooms depending on themes. They were presently in Egypt.

  She almost looked like Cleopatra with her deep hued black hair trailing along the cold cement floor. Her burnished bronze skin gleamed beneath the fluorescent lights.

  She hadn’t stirred since he’d told her what they had to do. Just curled up on the bed and slept. She’d follow him; he knew intimately how her mind worked. But it was a hollow victory.

  He sighed, drawn against his will to the sleeping perfection of her face. Even now, if he closed his eyes he could remember every dip, every curve. The roundness and smoothness of her cheeks, the hollow at the base of her neck that made her break out in a wash of goose bumps if he kissed her there. The way her brown eyes would gleam with heat and something more, something secret when he’d touch her. She’d been his.

  She began to stir again, moaning and draping her arm over her face.

  But that was then. She could never be his again. She’d been his heaven and his hell.

  “Where are the others?” she asked with a lilting accent that shivered molten down his spine and made him jerk out of the seat with blinding speed. He took ten steps away from her, but even that wasn’t enough. There wasn’t enough time or distance to take her out of his head.

  “Coming soon.”

  Slowly she sat up and moaned, grabbing her lower back. “Dios mio, me siento como un vieja.”

  He couldn’t help the grin that tipped the corner of his lips.

  “You’re only eighteen, Synn. Not old yet,” he couldn’t stop himself from teasing her.

  “You understood me,” she said it as a statement, not a question and with a hint of anger. “You say you knew me before
, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Fine. I need willow bark.”

  She said it with such antipathy, such disregard that he knew she didn’t believe him. More than that, she didn’t care, maybe she even wished a part of her were dead and laying peaceful with her parents. He felt the overwhelming desire to throw his caution to the wind and wrap her up in his arms, tell her she wasn’t alone. Would never be alone again. But he kept his feet rooted and refused to budge. This time he could not afford the temptation of giving in.

  She was stumbling and tripping her way toward the bathroom, the shreds of leaves around her waist did nothing to hide the firm, shapely thighs and smooth contours of her back. He blew out a heavy breath trying to block out the image of his hands gliding down her naked skin, her gentle moans like a song in his ears.

  Hunter! Take us out of here!

  Sable’s voice ripped through his skull and he winced at the brittle sharpness of it. But at least it helped clear the lust.

  He swiped his hand, opening a hole and she and Slayde fell through. Slayde handled the jump much better than Sable. Still on his feet, only the flaring of his nostrils gave away that he’d been affected at all.

  Sable on the other hand was bent over, head between her knees and gulping in air like her life depended on it. At least she wasn’t green this time.

  “Nice digs,” Slayde said, eyeing the place.

  Hunter lifted his brows, hearing Synn splashing water. He needed to find her clothes soon. The thought of Slayde seeing her practically nude made him want to rip the red bolt freak in half.

  “So you’re here,” he said it without any attempt at niceties.

  Slayde cracked his knuckles, eyeing Hunter with the look of a man sizing up his competition. Slayde had always been impressively built, nothing but lean, ripped muscles and bone. Not an ounce of fat on him. Taller than Hunter by a good four inches, but that had never phased him, the guy thought with his fists, his intellect used only if he couldn’t bash his way out of a situation. Much as Slayde had despised Hunter, he’d never been able to get the one up on him.