“You need to protect him. I can’t stress enough how important this is. If they succeed in assassinating him, there will be drastic consequences…for everyone.”
A half hour later, her mother’s words echoed eerily in her mind and she tried to shake them as she prepared for her mission.
The rush of a time shift could be addicting. It was a mad bombardment of adrenaline that pulsed through every cell in your body, setting them all afire with a crackling energy. It was amazing; it was wild and sometimes scary.
And Frankie got off on it, taking the vibes and storing the energy for later use.
She grabbed her bag and peeked inside. It was loaded with all sorts of goodies, and if she was lucky, she wouldn’t need them. But hey, if her life was threatened, she had one hundred and one ways to kill, packed and loaded to go.
Her mother’s dire warnings surfaced and a sick feeling cramped her stomach. She pushed it aside. No time for shit like that. Grabbing her intel, she tried to make out the face of her target, Dekkar James.
He was tall, long-limbed and lean. His face was grainy in the picture and she couldn’t make out his features very well. Frankie sighed as she tucked it into her pocket. No matter. She’d find him.
She didn’t have much to go on, other than the fact that this Dekkar person was some sort of entertainer. She’d tapped into the info com and read an article on him. He was considered a “Rock God”, whatever that meant.
Not a lot to work with, but hell, she’d had less in the past. She grabbed her pack, casting a critical eye in the mirror before she left. She’d been ecstatic when she’d realized she’d be able to wear clothes from her vintage closet.
She might not have been a history buff like her sister, but she sure liked the fashion.
Her long legs were poured into faded denim. The feel of the material was soft against her skin, and her fingers ran over the exposed flesh above the low-cut jeans. She’d grabbed a tankie; it was black with Black Sabbath emblazoned in silver on the front. She had no clue what that meant but it sure as hell sounded cool. Her long hair was loose, and she smiled as she noticed the flush that stained her cheeks.
Nothing excited Frankie more than a time shift. Live life on the edge—that’s what kept her going. She sobered somewhat as her mother’s words echoed in her brain, but she pushed them away. She’d never failed a mission before, and this one would be just like the rest.
She’d make sure of it.
She slipped her feet into a pair of battered Doc Martens, tucked the chain with her black opal down between her breasts and headed out the door. Serena was waiting for her and she gave her sister a hug before heading to the shift chamber.
The chamber was only used when her sisters weren’t present to fuel a shift. It wasn’t as accurate, but Frankie didn’t care. A shift was exciting no matter how it was done. It was gonna take a lot of juice to send her back three hundred years and the machine was already humming noisily.
Frankie stepped into the chamber, her skin flush with excitement as the mist began to swirl around her flesh. White-hot energy enveloped her limbs and she threw her head back as it assaulted every single cell in her body.
Her mother’s pale blue eyes were the last things she saw as the vortex sucked her away, and her thoughts were scattered. But one stood out in stark relief. She hoped like hell there was enough juice to bring her back.
Chapter Three
The air was rank with the smell of rotting food, garbage, urine and a whole host of other scents. It was disgusting and hit Frankie like a ton of bricks. She gagged slightly, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Crap. New York City stank worse than any place she’d ever been.
She’d misted into solid form in some back alley, filled to the brim with refuse. Small rodents scurried about and there were a few ragged people who didn’t seem surprised to see her appear from thin air.
Frankie exhaled softly and checked her time piece. It was eleven o’clock in the evening. She had approximately two to three hours before the assassins would be in this place, in this time. That’s if the intel was correct. There were never any guarantees.
She needed to act quickly.
“Hey!” She yelled through the thickening gloom, “Do you know a person named Dekkar James?”
An older man started to move towards her and it was at that precise moment, Frankie realized maybe it wasn’t the city that stank so much as the man coming towards her.
He obviously hadn’t washed in days, weeks even, and his body odor mixed tragically with the smell of vomit, feces and urine. The concoction was putrid and she wrinkled her nose, pasting a smile to her face as she waited expectantly.
He stopped a few feet away, swaying softly, so thin that a hard wind would have knocked him to the ground. Pity formed deep inside, and Frankie felt it wash over her in waves. In the future most planets had eradicated poverty, addictions and the like. There was no room for ugliness such as this.
But here on earth, in the year 2010 it was still very much a stark reality.
“Do you got change?”
The man’s voice was harsh, and his mouth showed huge gaps where teeth were missing. He came closer still, and Frankie stepped back as the stench became almost unbearable.
She rummaged through her pack, finding the currency she’d tucked away. Grabbing some paper bills she shoved them in front of his face, watching the eyes dilate in surprise. Glancing at the monetary amounts Frankie shrugged. Guess one hundred units was a lot to such a soul, and her fingers held two of them.
He grabbed for the money but she stepped back. “Dekkar James? Do you know where I can find him?”
The man’s bony hand extended but not towards her, he was pointing to something behind her and Frankie spun around quickly, her eyes shifting upwards at a moving billboard.
A man’s visage stared down at her. Blue-black spiky hair shot out and haloed rugged features. The nose looked as if it’d been broken a few times, the chin square and strong, but the mouth…it made hers water. The lips were full and seemed out of place on such a masculine face. He was not so much smiling as smirking down at the masses. Straight, even white teeth tempted her. She wished she could see his eyes, but they were covered by dark glasses.
The picture moved suddenly, and hands drew the glasses away as the man smiled rakishly down at her.
Crystal green eyes pierced the gloom, striking a chord within her that sharpened her senses. Instantly Frankie’s nipples hardened and an ache formed deep inside her pussy.
The man was magnificent. His name flashed in garish red. Dekkar James appearing tonight only, Madison Square Garden.
So…this was Dekkar James. Frankie let the smile that had been tugging at her mouth fall wide, and she licked her lips in anticipation. Her belly did a little flip as she continued to stare up at him.
The man was the total opposite of every single male she’d encountered over the past six months. There was a sensuality that lit his eyes and caressed his mouth that was raw, real, a friction that would never be accepted on a planet like Babylon. She had a feeling Dekkar James lived life on the edge and rode it hard, not caring about consequence or duty.
He was perfectly…imperfect.
She turned back to the sad sort standing expectantly behind her, and holding her breath, placed the paper units in his palm. The eyes were glazed over, and sadly Frankie knew the man would most likely use the funds to buy an illegal substance that he’d use to help dull the pain of living.
She sighed, not liking the fact she was fueling his addiction, but she needed information.
He tried to step away, but her hands prevented him from moving. “Where is Madison Square Garden?”
Once she’d gathered the necessary intel, Frankie quickly moved out of the darkness and into a world straight out of the pages of her long-forgotten history books.
It was loud, chaotic and electric. Exactly as she imagined it would be.
She’d arrived in a back alley off of Thirty-First Street, an
d she quickly made her way up towards Seventh. The venue she was looking for was straight ahead, and her eyes scanned a large number of people surrounding the building.
Echoes of a heavy beat were somewhat muffled, but audible enough that she could feel the pulse of it deep inside her chest. It struck a chord within her, and Frankie felt her heart speed up as something foreign wove its way through her veins.
In her time, three hundred years in the future, music was sedate, nondescript. She’d never understood her older sister’s love of melody—she’d rather be out working on her faded Harley. But this… The beat alone felt as it were a part of her and the pulse that flew through her body, settled, heavy and wonderfully charged…right between her legs.
She groaned inwardly at the hedonistic sensations that assaulted her. But there was no helping it. Something about this night, this music called to her and she felt her breath quicken in anticipation, because something big was about to go down.
And Dekkar James was at the heart of it all.
Clenching her teeth, Frankie willed herself to focus. Shouts and screams of delight cut through the solid concrete of the building, weaving its way out through tiny cracks. Excitement was in the air and approaching quickly as a mass exodus began to leave the Gardens.
The event was obviously over, and a sense of urgency crept through Frankie as she hitched up her bag, surveying the scene before her.
Her fingers grabbed the opal at her breast, and she closed her eyes, attempting to see where her target was. Sometimes it was an easy exercise, but with all the human bodies milling about, and the carnival atmosphere, she knew it wouldn’t be so simple.
The sounds and energy faded away as Frankie concentrated. She had a much clearer picture of his face in her mind thanks to the billboard, but even so there were just too many bodies, and she shook her head in frustration.
A sharp jab in the side sent her careening, and she whipped around, her fist flying as she took up an aggressive stance. A petite woman clad in leather arched painfully thin eyebrows and waved dagger like scarlet fingernails at her in obvious dismissal. She was deathly white, with a slash of bright red lips, exaggerated makeup and tattoos covered most of her exposed flesh. Which was a considerable amount.
“Dude, chill.”
Frankie stilled her fast-beating heart and watched as the woman passed her by and headed towards the side of the building next to the massive arena. The barely concealed ass walked with an assurance that tugged at her, and she quickly ran to catch up to the stranger.
“Do you know Dekkar James?”
The woman kept walking, but held her hand up, the middle finger extended fully. Frankie shook her head, wondering what kind of sign it was. Somehow she didn’t think it was a friendly greeting.
“Not gonna happen.”
The woman’s voice drifted back at her, and deep in the pit of her stomach Frankie knew her one chance of getting to Dekkar James in time was fast slipping away.
“Hey, I’m talking to you.”
She used her most authoritative voice, exhaling softly when the woman paused. “Look, I’ll do anything, but I have to see him, and it can’t wait.”
The woman stopped, turned back around, and Frankie sensed a keen intelligence beneath the garish façade. Silence stretched between them, long, measured, and then the woman crooked her fingers towards her, indicating she follow.
“You have a look he might be into. Dekkar’s an old friend of mine. Just keep your mouth shut and don’t make me regret bringing you along. Got it?”
Frankie smiled widely as she fell into step beside the tattooed goddess.
“And wipe that silly-ass grin from your face, or he’ll send you packing the moment he lays eyes on you.”
She calmed her emotions and remained quiet while she followed the woman back towards the alley where she’d come. A taxi was hailed and it was all she could do to not to whoop in excitement as she settled her ass into the dark interior of a New York City taxi cab. The stale air and ripped leather did nothing to dampen her spirits, and she fought to keep the smile from reappearing.
Christ, this beat riding around in an air streamer any day.
The woman sat down beside her and Frankie tried to ignore the pointed stare as the woman’s eyes drilled right through her.
“What’s your name?”
“Frankie.”
“Mine’s Cat. Where you from?”
She uttered the first thing that came to mind, wincing inwardly as she answered. “I’m from…a galaxy far, far away.”
“Fuck, everyone’s a comedian these days. Just don’t use that line on Dekkar. If you do, I promise he’ll run far, far away as fast as he can.”
The taxi came to a quick halt and tattoo lady looked expectantly at Frankie. “You can at least pay for the cab.”
“Oh sure, sorry.” Frankie dug into her sack, grabbed some more paper units and handed them to the driver before following Cat through a brightly painted red door, on the side of a dark, cavernous looking building.
“Hey, Paulie.”
A large man allowed Cat to pass, but stopped her from advancing. “She’s with me, a little present for Dekkar.”
Puffy, waterless eyes shifted between the two women. He then grunted before stepping back to allow them both access to the inner sanctum.
Frankie breathed a sigh of relief and followed Cat up two flights of stairs. The sound of voices echoed down from above their heads, and she began to feel anxious as they climbed higher. She was in good shape but even her breathing was elevated by the time they reached their destination.
A hazy cloud of smoke greeted them as they gained the last step. It brought with it an overwhelming balloon of perfume, stale body odor and illicit substances trying to filter their way out. Frankie was instantly on alert, her eyes scanning the people present, looking for danger.
There were several groups milling about. It was an eclectic bunch ranging from the heavily tattooed and menacing, to the young and silly.
She didn’t see anyone suspicious, nobody that screamed New Order at her, and she relaxed somewhat.
Frankie’s heart was still beating heavily deep inside her chest. The adrenalin that fueled her limbs made her feel slightly dizzy as she followed Cat past both curious and hostile stares.
They stopped in front of another closed door. Behind this one, loud music could be heard, as well as the voices of a large number of individuals.
Cat nodded to a heavily muscled man standing guard. He said nothing, but stood aside and let them walk through.
Frankie felt as if they’d left planet Earth and shifted to Babylon. Not the Babylon of her time, but the nasty, dirty, decadent Babylon of eons ago.
Her insides flooded with a tingling awareness that bubbled its way up from deep between her legs. The smell and feel of sex was heavy in the air and she inhaled it deep into her lungs. It called to some primitive, base instinct that made her feel incredibly alive, while it lovingly caressed every single cell on its way down.
Her eyes moved slowly about the room, widening at the display of unrelenting sexual favors passed around like candy. Her nipples hardened at the sight of a bare-chested man lounging on a sofa, head back and breathing hard as two naked women sucked his cock vigorously.
The sounds of their suckfest intertwined with the passionate groans of several other men, all being serviced by a wild array of women in various states of undress.
Frankie couldn’t lie to herself. It excited the hell out of her, and she exhaled softly as her libido pulsed hungrily.
Cat grabbed her hand and they stepped over a woman who lay on the floor, legs spread so that her bare, wet pussy glistened in the candlelight. Another girl had just moved beside her, her tongue slowly making its way sensually towards the wetness.
They took two short steps and Cat’s voice brought Frankie out of her sexual daze.
“Don’t say I didn’t bring you anything for your birthday. You owe me one, Dekkar.”
Fran
kie’s eyes shot up until they were caught, held in place with an invisible rope by the greenest, sexiest eyes she’d ever seen on a man.
Dekkar James stood a few inches from her, hands loose at his side, shirtless and ripped. His incredible torso was covered in an elaborate array of colorful tattoos that snaked up, caressing the hard abs.
Seconds turned into a long, slow silence, broken by the most devastating smile imaginable.
He didn’t speak, just held out his hand.
Frankie’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt as if she were coming apart, so intense was her body’s reaction.
She hesitated for one moment, and then her hand reached for his, a feeling of fire racing over her flesh as she made contact.
Everything faded away, and she let him lead her out the door, down yet another hallway, until the only sound was their heavy breathing. The air felt thick and it clung to her skin, like a soft caress. She glanced down to her timepiece. She had a little over an hour before the operatives from the New Order were scheduled to arrive.
She wanted to look up, but couldn’t meet his eyes. Her own pale blue orbs had stopped at the sight of the huge bulge that strained against the black of his leather.
When she did manage to raise her eyes higher, his mouth was descending, and she felt her own lips tremble in anticipation.
What the hell was wrong with her? She was on assignment for Christ sakes, and was about to break one of the most vehemently enforced rules of a Black Opal.
No fucking with a target.
Chapter Four
His lips were firm, with just a hint of softness that gripped the edges as he opened his mouth wide, and plundered her warm wetness with his tongue. Fire erupted, hot and raging; it was immediate and all consuming.
Frankie had never in her life experienced such a kiss. It was both passionate and brutal in its intensity. She knew she was lost. There would never again be such a first kiss.
Not ever.
She felt weak and leaned into him as liquid fire continued to rage out of control. She was awash in sinful sensations; and all this from just a kiss.
Black Legacy: Black Opals, Book 1 Page 2
