Chapter Two
JOLTING AWAKE FROM THE NIGHTMARE, I coughed and gulped air into my raw, oxygen-deprived lungs. Sweat beaded on my forehead as a wave of nausea threatened to empty my stomach. I need a drink of water, I thought, my brain still groggy.
A light breeze ruffled a strand of hair into my face, chilling my sweat-dampened skin. Wait, a breeze?
Reluctantly, I cracked my eyelids open and realized I was sitting outside on the ground between two brick walls, in what appeared to be an alleyway. I squeezed my eyes shut again and counted to ten. When I reopened them, my surroundings were the same and I was just as mystified. It was early morning, and I was still dressed in my nightgown. I jumped up, only to be rewarded with the ground tilting precariously beneath me. How in the crap had I gotten outside?
My heart nearly exploded out of my chest, and my legs began shaking violently. Taking several deep breaths, I peered around to take in my new surroundings. I was standing in a filthy alley with discarded rubbish everywhere and laundry hanging between the buildings. A panic attack was building in my chest, and I’d have given anything for a brown paper bag right about then. The opening of the alley was several feet away, so I gathered what energy and bravado I had and walked toward the street ahead of me.
Just before I stepped onto the sidewalk, another peculiarity hit me. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but deep down I could tell this street was the same street I lived on… even though it was completely different. I had lived on Palmetto Street for the past three months, but where was the cute little Internet café on the corner? Where were all the cars that were usually parked in front of the buildings? What was a horse-drawn carriage doing on the street?
My mind raced, trying to come up with a reason for everything that was happening, some kind of logical explanation. How could this be explained? I was either still dreaming, or I had entered an alternate reality where I was a flippin’ crazy person. I doubted I was in an alternate reality, and a quick slap to my own face proved I wasn’t still dreaming. So what, exactly, had happened?
My mind snagged on the memory of the old lady from the previous evening, and a huge rock of uncertainty settled in my stomach. What was it she had said? “Cursed by time’s fate”? Yeah, that was it. But surely, it couldn’t mean… that was just impossible.
I was pretty sure I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. No, a tornado hadn’t landed me in a different place, but perhaps that dream had. Everything seemed to have changed after I bumped into the little old woman. One thing I was certain of was that blowing off everything that had happened the previous night had been a huge mistake. Remembering the encounter more fully, I reached up to touch the skin behind my ear and gasped when I felt tiny, raised welts there.
Oh. My. God.
My knees threatened to buckle, so I grabbed onto the brick wall to keep myself from falling into a heap and crying like a baby. I slapped myself again for good measure, just to clear my thoughts.
What the crap am I going to do now?
Glancing down at my torn, dirty nightgown, I noticed fresh scratches on my legs. I took another deep breath and tried not to freak out. Instead of visions of sugarplums dancing through my head, I had visions of a mental institution pounding inside my skull. In order to be sure my fears were real, I had to find someone to talk to… or maybe a newspaper to read.
My eyes adjusted slowly to the early morning darkness, and I stifled a groan. How would I be able to approach anyone looking like a street urchin? I attempted to smooth my hair into some semblance of order; I could only imagine how bad it looked.
Just then, I spotted a young boy, no older than seven or eight years old. He was across the street, whistling as he walked down the sidewalk. Before I could talk myself out of it, I ran over to talk to him. As I got closer, he took in my appearance, and his eyes widened. I didn’t blame him—I probably looked as disturbed as I felt.
“Excuse me, can I ask you a question?”
His eyes scanned the area for escape routes. Smart kid.
“My mum says not to be speakin’ to anyone I don’t know, Miss.”
“Ah, well, my name is Sage. If you tell me your name, then we’ll know a little about each other, and we won’t really be strangers anymore, now will we?”
I pasted a smile on my face that was sincere and warm, and his shoulders relaxed a fraction—I guessed a young woman in a dirty nightgown didn’t rate high on the threat meter.
“My name’s Jax, Miss,” he said shyly.
“Nice to meet you, Jax,” I replied, letting the gratitude I felt seep into my voice. “Jax, could you tell me the date, please?”
“It’s Sunday, September twenty-third,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Okay… but what year is it?” I asked.
Jax looked at me, his face scrunched up as if there were a puzzle in my words somewhere he couldn’t figure out. “The year is 1904, Miss.”
Uh, 1904?
“Dear Lord,” I murmured. My mind immediately rejected what the little boy had told me; it was just too impossible to comprehend. But, instead of screaming out the fears and frustrations building up inside of myself, I tucked them all away to revisit later. Right now, I had to focus on my immediate problem—getting help.
Jax started to edge around me, no doubt anxious to get away from the crazy woman.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He looked back at the last moment and said, “If you’ll be needing help, Miss, sometimes they have room at Howell Home on Franklin Street. The mistress there isn’t overly friendly, but she’ll help you if she can.”
I smiled and thanked him. He scurried off, leaving me alone in a city starting to wake up, and with the dawning realization that I had somehow landed myself in a different time.
I glanced down at my nightgown once again and cringed. Being dressed as I was could land me in a whole heap of trouble no matter what year it was. I took off down the street as quickly as possible, my heart pounding and my head spinning. Surely, I didn’t believe I was in a different time. Maybe this was all an elaborate hoax, or maybe some super awesome cosplaying convention had moved into the city while I was sleeping, and Jax had been a part of that. I nodded my head at my own conclusions. That could totally be it.
I will not freak out, I will not freak out, I will not freak out.
I quietly repeated the mantra to myself, praying it would help me keep my composure and come up with a believable story… just in case I needed one. I walked briskly in what I hoped was the right direction. If I remembered correctly, Franklin Street was only a couple of blocks away. I kept to the dark shadows of buildings, hoping no one would see me and ask questions I didn’t have answers to.
A nasty worm of uneasiness wiggled itself into my heart as I walked. Several times, I had to stop myself from looking over my shoulder and checking to see if anyone were following me. I was definitely on the road to becoming certifiably schizo. I guessed freaky old ladies, terrifying dreams, and a little time travel would do that to a girl. My heart, traitor that it was, tripled its already-frantic beat, and I picked up my pace accordingly. Turning a corner, I found myself at a dead end. A tall, wooden fence that didn’t exist in my time blocked off one end of the alley.
A low, menacing laugh echoed from somewhere behind me, causing the fine hairs on the nape of my neck to stand on end. I swung around to face whatever was coming, but there wasn’t anyone nearby. I squinted, trying to see my surroundings through the dark and foggy morning.
Without any warning, a gust of wind whipped my hair into my face as something flew past me, nearly knocking me off my feet. I sucked in a hissing breath and grabbed my arm. My fingers came away smeared in blood from a throbbing gash. Another raspy chuckle, closer this time, emanated from within the fog-shrouded darkness.
The next blow came much faster and harder. I cried out as I was slammed into a brick wall, face first, and cut again. This time, the gash was on my thigh, deeper than the first, and it hurt like a mother. I scrambl
ed to my knees and tried to shake off the black spots dancing at the edge of my vision.
“Tsk-tsk, such determination for one so young,” a husky female voice purred close to my ear.
My right hook caught her on the side of the head, and she went sprawling to the ground not too far away from me. Obviously, she hadn’t expected “one so young” to pack a nasty punch. Her look of astonishment was almost comical, but I didn’t take the time to appreciate the tiny victory. I scrambled to my feet and sprinted toward the alley opening. Whatever drugs this woman was on that made her so quick and sure of herself also made her super dangerous, and I could only hope I would be able to get away if I ran for my life. Unfortunately, my assailant was very fast, very strong, and at the moment… very pissed off.
She hit me from behind like a human wrecking ball, and I went down just as hard. I spit out blood and gravel as I struggled to get free from her grasp—all in vain. Before I could blink, I was unceremoniously flipped over and straddled.
The woman sitting on my middle, wearing a black silk dress, was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. The perfection of her silky, blonde hair and pouty, rose-colored lips were only marred by her freakish red eyes, which were currently filled with an inhuman rage. She slapped me with such force that my head snapped back and my vision dimmed dangerously. My only lucid thought was that unconsciousness would have been a welcome relief.
“I could have made this relatively quick, but you made me break a nail.”
The pout in her voice caught me off guard. Who is this woman?
“Now I shall enjoy your terror as I kill you nice… and… slow…” she said, dragging each word out.
I focused on her face, willing myself to stay conscious long enough to give her the one-fingered salute. I wasn’t going to let her see my fear, even though I could feel it paralyzing me. But then I caught a glimpse of her teeth—or what should have been her teeth—and my terror quadrupled. Two long fangs extended a good inch below the natural line of her teeth. Two wickedly sharp fangs that didn’t belong in any normal human’s mouth. The fear felt before was nothing compared to what I experienced in that moment. My heart thumped so hard I was sure it was going to explode from my chest.
That would probably make her very happy indeed, I thought vaguely.
A terrible grin spread over the woman’s lovely face, and her fangs flashed as she lunged for the vein thumping wildly at my neck.
I opened my mouth to let out the bloodcurdling scream building in my throat when I felt the air around me stretch and shift. The air felt flexible, almost pliable. My fingers tingled and twitched, aching to bend the air to my will, though what that meant, I had no idea. The entire sensation was foreign to me.
I glanced up at the vampire on top of me, her fangs only inches from my neck and her face frozen in shock. As I jerked back, the rubberized air around me snapped back into my body. I grunted and tried to dodge the impending attack. Unfortunately, whatever miniscule advantage I’d had the second before had ended. The woman snapped out of her frozen state and plunged her razor-sharp teeth into my neck. I didn’t even have time to scream.
The next thing I knew, I felt the monster being jerked off me. A screeching sound, so shrill I was sure my eardrums would puncture, pierced the fading darkness. The silence that followed was profound. I couldn’t summon the strength to open my eyes, and my body felt weightless as someone lifted me off the concrete.
I vaguely recalled being supported by strong arms as I threw up next to a building. A jolting movement once again brought me back to the brink of consciousness. I cracked my eyelids open and moaned. A masculine voice shushed me, telling me in a soothing voice reserved for frightened children that everything would be okay. I must have giggled because I heard the same voice ask me, “Have I said something funny, Miss?”
Miss. Everyone was calling me “Miss” now.
Everything is so far from okay, I mused. Freaky old ladies, vampires, and time travel… Oh my!
I giggled again and looked up into a pair of lovely green eyes focused on me in concern. At least, if I were going to die, it would be in the arms of a beautiful man. I reached out to touch the mystery guy’s face and noticed my hand was caked in blood, dirt, and God knows what else. This time, I let the darkness claim me, and I didn’t fight it one iota.
Time Warper: Fated, A Sage Hannigan Novel Page 2
