“You can.” Red shrugged. It wasn’t an easy topic, but she didn’t want the orphan imagining the worst, not with her well-stocked nightmares. “It’s quick as a finger snap. The first time, I must have come back in the middle of a dream because I was gathering herbs with my mom. I was thirteen.” Her voice lowered as she confessed, “It felt so real.”
“What if it was? You said the time loops are unstable. What if you were there? You could have skipped like a boomerang, hitting your distant past before catching up.” Hannah asked, “Do you remember it all?”
“The conversation mostly. We talked about my grandmothers,” Red said, realization dawning on her. “They both sounded alive. Mom said something about one in Newark.”
The teen witch bounced on her toes, smiling. “Sounds like after this is over, you have a trip back east.”
Vic plodded out of the stacks toward them. “Did you guys ditch me? I’ve been waiting!”
“Sorry,” Hannah said. “Basil is—”
Timing impeccable, the soulmancer materialized at the velvet ropes of the restricted section. He adjusted his blazer collar, whispering indignantly, “You don’t need to shove.”
“I think I do,” Lee said, prodding him away from the empty bookshelves. “Are you insane?”
“I didn’t know,” Basil said. “You’re the one who jumped to conclusions. I’m merely researching mythology.”
The portly librarian stood firm. “I don’t care if this for the Immortal Alchemist and her research; I’m not helping.”
Red stepped between the two. “Perenelle is interested in Chronos too?”
“What? No,” Lee said. “I don’t know what she is interested in, and I don’t want to know. Nor do I want to know this. Go now. Please.”
Vic grabbed Basil by the arm. “We’re leaving.”
Red followed the guys into the bustling grand hallway. The wandering alchemists didn’t seem to notice the statuary of gods and mages dotting the corridor, but she studied each frozen stone face. Even in this temple to magic, none exuded anything more than aesthetics. Would she ever look at a statue the same again?
“Sorry, Hannah,” Vic said. “I assumed you’d be the one who couldn’t shut her mouth.”
The teen smirked, tossing her hair in vindication. “Thank you.”
Basil glared at him. “I proposed that—hypothetically—we had an enchanted object emitting a time anomaly. Barely described it. Damnable book constable guessed.”
“What did Lee say to you in there?” Red asked. “We couldn’t exactly eavesdrop.”
Basil steered the four into a quiet alcove off the concourse. Tapestries adorned it, blocking the chance of an echo.
“At first Lee suggested a book in the regular section on cleansing objects, then one on channeling Gods to understand how it might have been powered in the first place. I name-dropped the Immortal for clout and discretion. Then, when I merely mentioned the appearance and the previous owner’s security measures, I was thrown out. Rudely.”
“Anything else?” Red asked.
He whispered, “Lee grew pale and, I swear, muttered the words God Trap. I don’t know what that means to you, but it sounds dreadful to me.”
“That’s impossible,” Red said, looking to Vic. “Right? To capture a God.”
“Yeah, it is.” Vic sucked in his teeth. “For you and me.”
Hannah shook her head. “A god is too big. It’d be like stuffing a shark into a goldfish bowl. Time has been trucking along for months since the first time y’all saw the statue this winter. Whatever changed, it happened recently. I bet this is probably like Chronos’s toenail clipping.”
“Gross,” Red said. “We need to toss it in the trash.”
Vic rubbed his hands. “The Mariana Trench it is.”
Ian Keliʻi stomped toward the alcove with Ortega, the female Gendarme. Neither looked happy. “We were supposed to meet at the buffet to take you to your portal.” He ignored a peeved grunt of affirmation from the other agent. “You’re lucky I’m nice enough to send you through still, because we have absolutely no time for this.”
“What’s happening?” Red asked. “Did you talk to Lee about the library situation?”
“We’ve got bigger problems than your overdue book fees,” Ian said. “Basil, go with Ortega here. We want your skills on standby.”
The soulmancer paled. “Fremont Street, isn’t it?”
“We’re not sending you to the front,” Ian said, regaining his good cop voice. “My partner will even make sure you get breakfast.”
“I will?” Ortega asked, eyebrows rising, then conceded flatly, “Sure, we can stop for doughnuts on the way.” She steered Basil down the hall, allowing him a wave to his friends.
“Does the Gendarme need help?” Red asked.
“We have this in hand.” Ian gestured the hunters on and held up his hand to the teen. “Not you, Proctor. You should go back to the dormitories with the other lower adepts.”
Red gave Hannah a hug quickly under Ian’s impatient gaze.
Walking with the Gendarme to the portal platform, Vic and Red were delayed when another academy cop pulled Ian aside. The conversation must have been serious because somehow Ian veiled the two in magical silence. Their lips moved seemingly wordlessly. She hid her pout at not being able to eavesdrop.
There was only one reason to bring a soulmancer in against vampires. The only question was who they were cursing with a soul.
Upon reaching the underground chamber of garage doors leading to points unknown, Ian clicked his golden remote and disappeared back to the academy without a goodbye. He had his own fight, and so did the hunters.
They hopped into the Millennium Falcon and booked it through the portal to Battle Forge.
Traveling a nine-hour drive in the blink of an eye, Red barely noticed the old mining camp. She pulled out her phone to text Kristoff, asking him to use his DVA contacts to research the Chronos statue and the equally mysterious Goldbergs of Newark. He sent her a quick text back, mentioning he’d order it done after a meeting. Hopefully when they got to Charm, she’d have an answer.
Her head wanted leads on the company, but her heart yearned to know more about the family.
“Hey,” a small voice called out from the back of the van.
Red jumped in her seat.
Hannah waved shyly, wedged between some boxes by the rear doors. “Can you help me get out? I’m stuck.”
Vic’s nostrils flared. “I should have smelled the stowaway.” He parked the vehicle. “You didn’t use that invisibility charm this time.”
Hannah confessed, “Snuck in the old-fashioned way when the Gendarme were distracted.”
Red laughed and jumped out to open the back door and free the teen. “You’re going to have to sit on a box between the front seats, you know? It’s a long way.”
“You could use me more than the academy,” Hannah said. “I might actually do Hero shit with you two.”
Vic warned, “I’m still deciding on whether we just put you on the first bus to Vegas.”
Hannah hustled into the front of the van, plopping on the wooden chest between the seats before he could say more.
Red returned to her place, shrugging. “We’re burning daylight, Vic.”
“She’s not to touch the radio.”
“Fine,” Red said. “But skip the first song on the playlist in the CD player. It’s a little too on the nose for me right now.”
“Deal.” He drove through Battle Forge and onto the desert road leading out of the nature preserve.
Red frowned at the side door mirror, wanting him to go faster. She felt like the paperboy, pedaling to catch up with his route. They were lagging behind the original timeline.
She texted Zach, explaining that she needed a lot of iron powder and that he could borrow it from Olivia. She wasn’t up for repeating her story again, so simply said it was for a cursed object in the sea caves. In a minute, she’d perk herself up to call Wendy at the magic sh
op for the biggest prison box she had. It was doubtful that there was one sized like a cargo crate, but she had the time to shop around.
Nerves made her body seem to vibrate. Every new thing she learned about this statue only made it more out of her league.
Hannah patted Red’s shoulder. “Hey, we’ve got this. Some people think I’m a stupid kid, but I can help.”
“I know; you’re one of the best developments on this time roller coaster. We could use the academy’s First Witch.”
The sun followed them as they neared civilization and found the highway.
They called Zach. Vic and Hannah explained the story to the empath over speakerphone.
Red chimed in that the current plan was to contain the statue with sigils and seal off the cave unless he knew a guy with a crane to remove it. She said the last part flippantly, but she had really warmed up to Vic’s plan to dump it in the ocean. Let Poseidon deal with his own.
Screeching tires drowned out the call.
Hannah lifted desperate glowing hands.
A big rig jumped the road median from the opposite lane. Metal hit asphalt. The truck barreled toward them. The driver screamed behind his windshield, losing control of all eighteen wheels.
Red had a single second to shield the teen before impact.
Time Loop #11 – July 3, Morning, Las Vegas, Nevada
Sneaking out of the hotel suite, Red closed the door carefully. Last loop, she had tried to sneak out on her own, but Vic had heard her. She couldn’t stand to take him to her doom.
Again and again, she’d attempted the drive from Battle Forge to Charm. She had gotten as far as Eugene. Each trip had ended in some freak calamity. Too often with bystanders.
She’d done this day ten times. Wrong or right, she needed to try it alone. For her own sanity at least.
She put on sunglasses and a surgical mask to descend to the casino floor, grateful for the anonymity. Going to the taxi stand, her next stop was McCarran International Airport. She’d buy a ticket to Oregon there.
Paranoia had gripped her in the last few loops that the Chronos statue knew she was coming to destroy it. Maybe this would shake it off her trail.
The cabbie said hello and then read her mood well enough to drive in silence with the radio on. Bless him. He’d be tipped well for it.
She slumped into the back seat cushions and texted Kristoff. He should still be in Portland, not making the hour and a half drive to the coast until sunset. The vampire would be in for a surprise when his secretary called him in a few hours to let him know that Red was in the building.
Putting away her phone, she peered out the dusty window at the passing buildings. Her spine straightened in recognition. They were on the way to Fremont Street. “Hey, this isn’t the way to the airport.”
“Oh, sorry, miss, I’m new and still getting turned around. I’ll turn off the meter for a bit.” The cabbie made a voice command to his GPS for airport directions.
All the doors locked as the taxi made a sharp left into an underground garage. The device on the dashboard pleaded to take a right. Out of the Nevada sun, the temperature dropped.
Red jiggled the door handle. Child-lock doors.
The cabbie hit the brakes, turning off the engine. “Sorry, I owe O’Sullivan too much.” He bailed out of the taxi.
Red climbed into the front seat, intending to close the door and drive away.
A rough hand ripped her out of the car by her hair.
She tossed a punch, barely making out more than pale skin and a golden chain on the attacking vampire.
Three more jumped on her. Fangs sank into her neck and arms. The combined venom drugged her into a stupor.
One vamp pulled back, wiping his mouth. “I think this is a witch, not an alchemist.”
“Whatever. She tastes like strawberries.”
6
Time Loop #25 – July 3, Hours Before Dawn, Las Vegas, Nevada
Red sensed the difference in the hotel room’s darkness before she rolled over to the bedside alarm clock. It was 2:22 a.m.
In the original timeline, she had been asleep for under an hour. She had reset twenty-five times, waking within generally the same thirty-minute span around 7:30 a.m. Once, it was as early as 6 a.m. Another one of the mysteries of the time loop.
Helplessness coiled within her. She couldn’t even decide when to wake up.
It wasn’t as if she got any real rest anyway. She died, woke, and napped in the van when she could. Pushing herself up, she looked back at her pillow. It seemed so inviting. Maybe she could really sleep this time.
The sad inner desperation sparked defensive fury. Her golden ring warmed.
Magic erupted, out of her control. A small flame burst up on the pillow.
Squeaking, she jumped off the bed and used a water glass to extinguish the fire. Her heart hopped against her ribs. She cracked open the window vent to release the stinky smoke.
Shock melted into curiosity. How had she conjured fire from nothing? She couldn’t coax a lick from a roaring campfire.
Trotting into the living room, Red pointed her finger at a scented candle on the coffee table. She threaded energy through her mother’s ring and visualized lighting it. Nothing happened. Doubling down on clearing her mind, she tried to be as emotionless as Trudy had taught her.
Again nothing.
“Come on, dammit.” Losing her temper, she stomped up to the candle, poking the wick. Like a striking flint, inspiration sparked. “Maybe it’s time to break the rules…”
She didn’t release her full resentment and anger—she took it out on a leash. The fiery emotions seeped into her magic, and she imagined the statue of Chronos on fire instead.
The candle ignited, flame rising three inches from the wick.
Red pinched off her magic, letting the burn proceed normally. Covering her mouth to muffle her excitement, she stared at the little flame like it was a long-awaited child. After a year of trying to harness the fire element, she had to tell Vic.
The rush was like an espresso. Was it the long-sought victory or simply the change in her routine?
She kicked the spiral of self-analyzation to the curb. After so many loops chasing this stupid statue like a cartoon coyote with a roadrunner, she needed a break. And these were hours that she hadn’t explored exhaustively. That alone made her want to dance.
She hurried into her room and threw on the closest thing to a party dress that she had packed—a black blouse, slightly fancier than the others with its swooped cowl neck, and skinny jeans. The outfit was for the highly unlikely event she’d need to dress up on her trip. Its time had finally come.
If Hannah hadn’t been heartbroken over her breakup, Red would have called to wake her. Instead, she masked up and descended to the casino floor to find her mentor.
Red stepped out of the elevator into a twenty-four-seven party. Night or day, it was impossible to tell.
Lines of slot machines, blinking lights, and artificial coin sounds hit her in a display of designed disorientation, the results of market research more than magic. It was almost enough to distract from the Gendarme patrolling in pairs in the aisles. She strolled along the kitschy entrances to pubs, eateries, and gift shops circling the maze of games.
Red deliberately avoided the Nostradamus Lounge, even without the possibility of someone recognizing her. She didn’t want to see a new bartender instead of the late Ezra Fox. A drink there would only summon sad memories, and she had enough of those. It was time for fun.
She moseyed toward the blackjack tables.
A custodian, costumed as a plague doctor down to the beaked headgear, emptied an overstuffed trash bin into a cart. Small statured, he lifted the large bin without strain. Something about his precise fluid movements caught her attention amid the shuffling supernatural tourists with their booze.
She flipped on her spirit gaze, third eye zooming in. He wasn’t human. The smoky darkness of a demon threaded his blood-red aura. Vampire.
Red casually kept him in her sight as she walked to a solo Gendarme emerging from a row of machines. She discreetly motioned to the female agent. “Ortega.”
“Do I know you?” Ortega folded her arms over her black trench coat, rightly confused since it would be hours until they officially met. The onyx on her leather shoulder harness glowed dimly.
“Ian does.” Red inched her head in the direction of the disguised vamp pushing his cart toward the small doughnut shop. Only yards away, hidden in a mirror, was a portal door to the dormitories, one of the few that didn’t lead to the heavily guarded Pyramid. “Check out that one. Notice his chest.”
Understanding hardened Ortega’s expression. She tapped a crystal on her shoulder and spoke to it like a cop with a walkie-talkie. “Leech located by the thirteenth door.” She nodded to Red. “Thank you. Now, move along with your business.”
Resisting the urge to salute, Red resumed her journey. The Gendarme were good. She wouldn’t have noticed them moving in on the vampire unless she’d been looking for it.
At a blackjack table, Vic waved her over, grinning with a cigar in his teeth, eyes twinkling. “You’re not going to believe how much I won!”
She gave him a side hug, flapping away his smoke. “Shots all around then!”
He chuckled, gesturing to the dealer with his cigar. “Better watch this one. We got a wild woman tonight.”
“I’m getting there,” Red said, flagging down a passing cocktail waitress. “Three tequila shots, please. Each.”
“Damn, Red, I’m impressed. It’s not even your birthday.”
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” she quipped. The city slogan sounded different to her ears, considering her situation. Drinks came quick enough to distract her from the thought.
Taking the shots rapidly, the tequila burned her throat and spread the warmth into her limbs. Red cheered Vic on through the next few hands as he neared the fifteen-hundred-dollar mark in winnings. Half tempted to tell him about the future and suggest he stop now, she encouraged him to go on instead. She wasn’t ruining their night by robbing him of his ignorance. Why stop him on a roll?
Witch in Time: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 6) Page 9
