Synnergy, Chaos Time Book 3

by Marie Hall

  Synnergy: Chaos Time Serial, Part 3

  Copyright December 2013 Marie Hall

  Cover Art by Damonza Copyright October 2013

  Formatted by Author's HQ

  Smashwords Edition

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. Many of the locations within Austin are purely from the author’s imagination.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning, or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Marie Hall, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in the context of reviews.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of all people involved with the creation of this e-book.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Marie Hall. Unauthorized or restricted use in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patent Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2013 by Marie Hall, Honolulu, Hawaii, United States of America

  Synnergy

  Arianna Morena, aka Synnergy, has known pain in her life. It’s only been a few weeks since the brutal slayings of her parents by the hands of a drug cartel. She’s barely had time to process all the changes around her, when a mysterious stranger shows up on her door to tell her that the fight to save humankind cannot work without her in it. She’s a healer, life is sacred, special. Meant to be treasured and valued above all else, but her father always warned her, if a healer ever used their power for anything other than to save, there would be dire consequences. Synnergy has killed.

  Now she’s haunted, tormented by the souls of her victims. Slowly sinking into the madness of their vengeance. She’s not sure she can survive this, she’s not even sure she wants to…

  Part 3: The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living

  ~ Macrus Tullius Cecero

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: History will not repeat itself

  Chapter 2: Chameleon

  Chapter 3: There's gold in them thar hills…

  Chapter 4: Haunted and Hunted (Synnergy)

  Chapter 5: Caught (Sable)

  Chapter 6: Suspicions and Red Herrings

  Chapter 7: I'll do whatever I want… (Slayde)

  Chapter 8: The Bandit

  Chapter 9: In which our heroine discovers an unlikely ally

  Chapter 10: The Black Devil (Slayde)

  Chapter 11: The Black Devil (Hunter)

  Chapter 12: The Black Devil (Sable)

  Chapter 13: The Black Demon (Arianna)

  Chapter 14: I am Chaos…

  Chapter 15: We fight

  Chapter 16: Not soon enough

  Chapter 17: Somewhere in time…

  Marie Hall Books

  Dedication

  About Marie Hall

  Sneak Peek of Hunter

  Chapter 1: History will not repeat itself

  San Francisco, 1849

  After too many days in ice, Sable reveled in the spicy heat of the California sun. She stood with arms wide open in the middle of the endless prairie, face tipped up toward the light and smiling as it kissed each exposed pore of her body.

  Which wasn’t much, thanks to the ridiculous amount of clothing she was forced to wear, she’d always assumed prostitutes would be half naked. Yet here she was, dressed in a voluminous ruby taffeta gown that went to her ankles. Ankles that were also not exposed because of the black granny boots women of the time period wore. To say she was uncomfortable was the understatement of the century.

  Hunter swore these were authentic to the period and they all needed to fit in as much as possible, at least until they found, and hopefully this time killed, the Lord.

  “Sable,” Hunter called and gestured for her to rejoin the group.

  Slayde offered a secret smile when she neared. Somewhere between Ancient Mexico and here, she felt a definite shifting in the parameters of their...something. She still wasn’t totally sure what to call them. It was so much easier offering comfort when he was nearly dead. Or worrying about him when he was being pummeled to within an inch of his life, but without those buffers, it was weird again.

  She frowned. Kind of sad really, but she didn’t know how to make it not awkward.

  She returned the greeting with a brief one of her own.

  Hunter was gripping the rim of a bowler hat. His normally shaggy hair was finger combed back, and his blue eyes stood out in startling relief behind the vintage spectacles he wore. He had on a blue silk vest, the white collar shirt beneath it was so stiff it made her feel slightly breathless to see how high up his neck it went.

  At least her neck was exposed, and half her boobs too. Although given a choice, she would have preferred her legs out over her boobs. She tried to drag the material up higher, to cover herself better, but it kept slipping down every time. Hunter had tried to get her to wear a corset, but after lacing it up with the help of Synnergy, she’d shaken her head and told her to take it off. Sable had discovered she actually enjoyed breathing. Corsets were definitely not made with functionality in mind.

  Synnergy had kept hers on, a burgundy and black taffeta one she had on underneath the striking green gown.

  “Because we aren’t exactly sure of the location of the Lord,” Hunter nodded toward Sable who shrugged, she’d tried to learn his exact whereabouts, but after hours of being in the dreaming she’d only been able to come up with San Francisco at the time of the gold rush for a location, “we’ll have to keep our ears open, our mouths shut, and our weapons cocked.” He pointed to Slayde’s holster.

  He was still talking, but for some reason today he sounded like a peanuts character. Wah, wah, wah, wah. She was having the hardest time concentrating. Maybe because she felt Slayde’s hot gaze burn like a brand on her flesh.

  Where Hunter was Doc Holliday cool, Slayde was pure highwayman in his knee length black frock coat. Hunter said it was usually referred to as a rifle coat. Man she was so gonna catch hell, she just knew it. It was hard enough going way back in time and trying to fit in, to also try and remember all the different names and terms for stuff was mind boggling.

  He shifted on the balls of his feet, a stiff breeze riffled through his loose auburn hair and she held back the sigh that hung on the very tip of her tongue. The paisley brocade vest with the pocket watch and gold chain looked straight out of some Western and she had the strongest urge to reach over and grab it out of his pocket. Maybe even twirl it around her finger just for kicks.

  He grinned, as if aware that she was studying him and jutted one leg out, causing the tan trousers to hug his very strong and well-built thighs. A heated rush of blood pooled in her cheeks. Feeling like the soiled dove she was going to portray as all sorts of heated thoughts whispered through her mind. He planted his hands on his hips, exposing the holster and gleaming wooden handle of the colt revolver.

  He winked and she shifted away from him, looking at nothing, attempting to ignore him.

  Hunter cleared his throat. She jerked with a guilty start.

  “Did you hear anything I said, Sable?” he asked with a look of slight irritation in Slayde’s directi
on.

  “Yeah, umm,” Slayde drawled, “I’m going to have to say she probably didn’t. Right, Nix?”

  She clenched her fists and shot him a nasty look. “Shut up, Slayde. I’m sorry, Hunter,” she looked at him, “I’m having a hard time focusing.” Slayde chuckled and her spine stiffened. “It’s not because of you either, jerk.”

  “Ouch.” He grabbed his chest. “You wound me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m nervous about mingling, what if they realize I’m not who I say I am.”

  Hunter shoulder bumped her. “No worries. I won’t let anything happen to you guys. Okay?”

  Sable glanced at Synnergy whose blank face gave nothing away. She nodded.

  “Okay,” she said, but the nerves in her gut were like lead weights. She really hoped he was right. She glanced over her shoulder, at the people milling below. The endless expanse of the sea caught her eye.

  A coastal breeze blew, and though it sometimes stank of rotten fish, it was delicious comfort to the frozen air of before. Tons of old time ships were docked at the harbor. She’d heard somewhere the West was really wild and hangings were the norm, she grimaced picturing herself hanging from a noose.

  Her fingers twitched. She wished she could carry a gun same as Slayde. She felt vulnerable. Last time they hadn’t had to interact with the people. She licked her lips.

  Slayde touched her wrist and leaned in to whisper. “Look, I’m sorry about before. You’ll be fine. Promise.” Then he released her, but not before swiping a tingling path across her wrist with his thumb.

  “Girls,” Hunter looked first at Synnergy, then her, “asking you to work at a parlor doesn’t mean you have to work at a parlor.”

  Sable glanced at Synnergy for any type of comradeship, but the healer was silent. She blinked, she breathed, but she wasn’t doing much else.

  “Guys talk, especially to their lovers,” Hunter continued, “we want reports on what you hear. Anything uncommon going on in the area, men or women displaying unusual powers. Anything.”

  She cracked her knuckles and then dropped her hands only to feel like they got lost in the jumble of dress material. The material itched, she wiggled. It hadn’t felt so scratchy before. “What if they make a pass at us? I mean, we are going into a brothel.”

  “Yeah,” Hunter nodded, “do whatever you have to do to make sure you don’t hang around with any one person too long. We’re playing with time,” his face was very serious, “we cannot change the threads without disrupting the future in potentially catastrophic ways. So mingle, but keep a distance at the same time.”

  “Won’t they kick us out if we don’t,” she shrugged, “work?”

  “Probably,” he admitted, she caught Slayde frowning out of the corner of her eyes, “but I don’t plan on being here more than two, three days tops. I’d imagine the Lord wouldn’t be all that conspicuous considering the amount of power he wields and level of lawlessness prevalent in these old miner towns.”

  Slayde grabbed his jaw and rubbed. “I don’t like this, Hunter. Isn’t there another way? Something that doesn’t involve throwing the girls to the wolves?”

  “Being a whore is the only way to have the type of freedom we need them to have. I did a quick recon this morning, Long Nose Milly runs a decent establishment. She’s good to her girls, relatively speaking.”

  “Long nose Milly?” Slayde mouthed with a curl of his nose. Sable might have giggled at the disgusted expression on his face, except for the fact that she was majorly stressing about having to do this. She wiped very wet palms down the front of her dress.

  “That’s right,” Hunter nodded, “she’s the Madam.”

  She knew very little of history, other than the fact that women basically had no rights until much later. He was probably right; if she and Arianna wanted in on the action with the Lord later, they’d need to play the part of the floozy now.

  “You’re sure they’ll even take us?” Sable gestured to herself and Synnergy, who was now half turned with her eyes darting furtively back and forth in front of her.

  What was wrong with that girl? She was already nervous, last thing she needed was to go someplace with a person missing a few marbles. Was she going insane?

  It was easy to forget sometimes that when she and Hunter had found Synn she’d just witnessed the slaughter of her family. Death wasn’t so much of an issue for Sable, just another part of life and definitely not something to dwell on long. She’d need to keep an eye on the healer from here on out.

  “They’ll take you, you’re young, fresh, and dressed the way you are, it’s pretty obvious what ilk you belong to.”

  “Ilk,” Slayde grinned, “already talking like one of the locals?”

  Hunter lifted a brow. “So help me, Slayde, if you screw up like you did the last time, I’ll tear your arm off again and this time I won’t let Synn heal it back,” his words were laced in venom.

  If either one of them had fangs they would have been snapping and snarling at each other. She glanced at Arianna, but knew there’d be no help from her, so she got in the middle of the tense filled stand off and shoved them apart.

  “Hey,” she snapped at Slayde who was breathing heavy. “We have a job to do.” She turned to Hunter, but he was cold, seeming unaffected by the testosterone bullets whipping between them. He dipped his head once and took another step back.

  She was seventeen. The youngest one here, but she swore there were times she was more mature. It was pathetic. She dropped her hands.

  “Are you boys done? Or should I get a ruler?”

  “We both know who’d win that contest, love,” Slayde winked.

  “Oh, you’re so disgusting.”

  Hunter ignored the comment and picked up two large wrapped bundles that had been lying at his feet since the moment they’d stepped through his glow tunnel. He tossed one to her and the other to Arianna.

  She began to unwrap hers from around the stick inserted through the top, but he shook his head. “Those are night clothes, robes and a nightgown. Being in the trade it’s expected you come prepared.”

  Slayde’s jaw clicked. She didn’t turn to look at him.

  “Carry it over your shoulder. Usually you’d come off a ship with a trunk, but it’s not unrealistic to expect ladies such as yourself to be slightly impoverished. Also, they pay for everything in dust or nuggets here. It’s the height of the rush so I’ve included two small pouches of dust to help out with whatever expenses you might incur.”

  Butterflies were gnawing away at her innards.

  “Head down the hill,” he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, “into the town. Look for a wooden placard with the words: The Parlor, stenciled on it. Go inside and ask for Long Nose.”

  The time was here, and she was loathe to leave her calm oasis bursting with wild flowers and waving green grass.

  “We’ll tail you, and make sure you make it there safe. If you find out anything whisper my name away from prying eyes and I’ll show up. Got it?” Hunter looked between the two of them.

  “I don’t like this,” Slayde growled again, his finger tracing the curly cue pattern on the holster of his belt.

  “Slayde, please, don’t make this harder for me,” she pleaded.

  He stared at her for the longest time. Absently, she noted the fine dusting of red whiskers and couldn’t control the quick beat of her heart.

  “Fine, whatever,” he finally said and looked away from her.

  She was such a masochist. At first she had wanted him to leave her alone, but now that he was ignoring her she wished he wouldn’t. Sometimes she barely understood herself.

  “Go,” Hunter whispered, his eyes drawing the lines and planes of Arianna’s face. And though she could tell he was desperate for her to acknowledge him, neither she nor he spoke up.

  Sable turned on legs that shook like jelly. She was halfway down the hill when a small, cold hand clamped to hers and flooded her body with gentle swells of warmth. She shuddered gratefully.<
br />
  “Thanks,” she mumbled to Arianna, who wasn’t looking at her, but who nodded anyway.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Chapter 2: Chameleon

  Surreal. If there was one word that encompassed what she was presently feeling, that was it. This place could hardly be described as a tent city, but there were enough of them around to make it almost possible. They were shoddily erected structures of tanned canvas with slits for openings. Most seemed to be dwellings with the slits roped shut. A few men covered in grime and grease from the top of their dusty hats to the soles of their worn boots, sat on short wooden stools, smoking on a pipe. Or they whittled away with long knives at wood or bone.

  They didn’t look much different from the men and boys of her day. But that didn’t stop her from trembling. Why? Because the moment they walked past, searing gazes searched their bodies with very clear intentions in their dirt rimmed eyes.

  “Hello, darlin’!” one daring boy, judging by the baby smooth jaw and bird chest, cat called. “Hows about you give ol’ Gideon a twirl tonight?” He pointed a mud-encrusted finger at her.

  Sable’s instinct was to stiffen her back and march off. But keeping in character, she curled her lips and cocked her hip out, trying to appear as alluring and tempting as possible. “I’d break you, little boy.”

  That set the men off. They roared with laughter and slapped their knees at his sullen, rejected face. The one closest to Gideon—a big bear of a man with a thick graying beard hanging past his chin and deep set brown eyes—cuffed him hard. Almost knocking the boy to the ground, and earning him another round of guffaws.