Time Warper: Fated, A Sage Hannigan Novel

by Peggy Martinez

  Chapter Six

  THE NEXT MORNING, Phoebe helped me dress in a corset, black skirt, white shirtwaist, and a little black-and-red vest with black velvet buttons marching up the front. A sheer black scarf tied around my neck gave it a touch of sass. While I didn’t look bad, I really missed the comfort and simplicity of my jeans and T-shirts.

  I was anxious to start the day, to get one step closer to my main goal—getting back home. If I ever got back home. I shook my head to dislodge that wayward thought.

  “I will not think about that; it is not an option,” I said fiercely to my reflection, but behind my eyes, I saw a smidge of uncertainty.

  I went to meet Mrs. Howell in the library to discuss my daily schedule. When I arrived, she was sitting behind the desk with a pair of small glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She hardly glanced up from what she was writing but motioned me to take a seat.

  “Have a seat, Miss Hannigan. I’ll be finished with this letter in just a minute.” After she sealed the letter and set it aside, Mrs. Howell took off her glasses and relaxed back into her chair. “We decided the best thing to do would be to give you a condensed course in all the areas we thought most important to you as a warper. After breakfast each morning, you will meet with Mr. Connely in the library to learn as much as possible about the preternatural community. You, Phoebe, and I will meet after that for lessons in etiquette and manners.”

  I must have snorted out loud, because she gave me an impressive teacher’s glare.

  “Miss Hannigan, in order for you to leave this house, much less mingle in polite society here in 1904, you will have to be able act like you belong in this time. Quite frankly, you will need extensive coaching to make that happen.”

  I knew she was right, but man, I was not looking forward to a daily dose of princess training.

  “I understand,” I mumbled.

  “Good. After lunch each day, you will meet with Dr. Blake in the old ballroom to learn basic offensive and defensive techniques.”

  I swallowed almost audibly. “I’ll be sparring with Dr. Blake?” Inwardly, I groaned.

  Mrs. Howell raised her eyebrow to an impressive height—she must practice that look in the mirror.

  “He’ll be fine, I’m sure,” I murmured hurriedly, my cheeks warm.

  Fine, indeed. I covered my snort with a little cough. I’m pretty sure I hadn't fooled her, though.

  “We’ll start today after breakfast. Go ahead to the dining room, and I’ll see you in a little while.”

  She smiled encouragingly at me, but I could read the we’ve-got-our-work-cut-out-for-us look all over her face.

  After breakfast, I went to meet with Travis in the study to learn about the preternatural community. Since I was about to become intimately involved with vampires and other supernatural beings, I was willing to learn anything that would keep me alive. Maybe, in the process, I would find a way home. Travis seemed more than eager to teach me all that he could, so we got started with my new favorite subject, vampires.

  We decided to skip all the history and origins of vampires and got right down to what was important: vampire strengths, vampire weaknesses, and how to defend against and exploit them, respectively. After an hour of researching vampires, I found they didn’t have very many weak points. Unfortunately, they did have a whole lot of strong ones. I took a deep breath and blew a stray lock of hair out of my face.

  “So,” I said with my jaw set, “vampires are super strong, have very fast reflexes, and have excellent eyesight—especially at night. Their senses of smell and hearing are two of their greatest strengths. Is that right so far?”

  Travis looked up at me, his lips thinned into a grimace, and nodded.

  “Okay, then what, pray tell, could possibly be their weakness? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem like they have any at all.”

  I seriously needed to punch something really flipping hard. Travis must have sensed my frustration and tendency toward violence, because he came around the desk with both hands up, trying to calm me.

  “I know it seems that they are invincible, but they do have vulnerabilities. Let’s talk about those for a little while before we end the class.”

  All I could manage was a nod.

  “Okay, vampires have many strengths, as we have already pointed out. Let’s start on the best ways to kill a vampire.”

  Finally! I perked up a little, ready to learn something useful.

  “Fire is one of the best, and most permanent, ways to kill a vampire. Beheading and staking through the heart are also very effective. Staking can actually be tricky—you have to do it perfectly through the heart because if you miss the organ, you will just have one very angry vampire on your hands. Usually, if you stake a vampire, you want to do it during the day, when most of them rest. That’s when they are weaker. Beheading, well… that will kill just about anything, won’t it? You have to have a very sharp sword and a wicked swinging arm, though, because it is hard to cut through bone. And, well… let’s not mention the mess.”

  He looked up at me and stopped, probably because I looked just as green as I felt. It was easier to think of vampires as mythological creatures, like those I had watched hundreds of times on television. I mean, I owned just about every classic vampire movie ever made. But to think about doing the things Travis was talking about to someone, some thing, like the blonde vampire woman who’d attacked me—something real—well, that was a whole other story. Swallowing nervously, I glanced at the clock and was very glad to see the end of “Vampires 101” for the day.

  I hurried to the dining room to meet with Mrs. Howell and Phoebe, the whole time giving myself a little pep talk about taking one for the team. I would soon be mingling with deadly creatures as a spy, and here I was, dreading a little class on manners and the art of being feminine. After all, how bad could it be?

  It could be very, very bad.

  I spent the next hour being poked, stripped, and measured for appropriate garments. Standing up on a small stool in my white shift and corset, Mrs. Howell and a dressmaker circled me, taking notes on everything from my measurements to my skin tone, even my posture. I’d never in my life felt so ridiculously on display. Every time I fidgeted, Mrs. Howell sucked her teeth, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth, and the little French woman went into a tizzy. Feathers, ribbons, hats, and fabrics were passed around and draped over me, and all I could think of was getting the hell out of there and taking a jog to let out some pent-up energy. By the time it was all said and done, I couldn’t even have told you the color or quantity of anything that was ordered—I had totally zoned out of the fiasco going on around me. The next thing I knew, it was time for me to get dressed once again and prepare for Dr. Blake’s class. I’d never been more relieved.

  After rapidly escaping the women’s clutches, I arrived at my next class. I hesitated on the threshold of the old ballroom in the back of the mansion. I was more than ready to spar—I really needed to after the last hour—but I hoped the person with whom I was sparring wouldn’t be a problem. Surely, I could shut my ridiculous attraction to Dr. Blake out of my mind and just concentrate on my training. Of course I could. I would. I nodded my head, answering myself.

  “Are you going to stand there all afternoon, Miss Hannigan, or do you plan on joining me?”

  I swear, the man had super-powered hearing. His back was to me when I entered; his arms were stretched above his head, loosening his muscles in preparation for our upcoming fight. He had shed his jacket, and his untucked white shirt hung nearly to the knees of his soft, loose pants.

  I frowned and looked down at my outfit. When I looked up again, he had turned to face me with a bored expression on his face.

  “How am I supposed to do anything in this… this fluffy dress?” I asked, exasperated. “It will be impossible for me to maneuver. Why can’t I wear pants like the ones you have on?”

  “You can’t go around wearing pants in this era, Miss Hannig
an; you’d likely be jailed for indecent exposure.”

  I snorted, but Dr. Blake ignored me.

  “You will have to train in the clothing you’d be wearing if you got into an altercation. You’ll just have to work harder and have a few tricks up your sleeve to gain the upper hand. Now, are you ready to begin, or are you going to stand there and complain all day instead?” He crossed his arms and arched a brow.

  Pompous ass.

  “I’m ready, oh Great One,” I answered, performing a mock bow. I thought I saw the corner of his lip twitch, but I couldn’t be sure. Maybe my eye had twitched.

  “All right, I thought we’d start off by seeing if we could get a demonstration of your powers today.”

  My eyes widened, and I began to shake my head.

  “We cannot determine what you are capable of if we do not test you a little,” he said slowly, as if he were talking to a child.

  My temper flared, and before I could stop myself, I marched across the room and poked him directly in the chest. “You do not have to talk down to me.” I enunciated each word with a jab of my finger. Standing toe-to-toe with him now, I added softly, “I have no idea how to tap into my powers or how to control them when I do.”

  His nostrils flared as if he were inhaling some new, exotic scent. “We’ll figure out what triggered your powers during the vampire attack and go from there.” Stepping back from me, he pulled out a huge mat and rolled it open across the floor.

  Here we go, I thought.

  “Tell me, what were you feeling when you were being attacked, right before your powers manifested?” Dr. Blake asked.

  “Besides being scared shitless?” I muttered.

  I immediately clapped my hand over my mouth. Dang it! I really do need to work on my princess social skills.

  Dr. Blake’s lip quirked up at one side. “Yes, besides that. What emotions were you feeling?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “I was scared. I was also in shock at finding out about vampires. Then, my shock and fear turned into a red-hot fury. Fury that I was going to die before I’d fully lived, and that I’d die a victim.”

  I looked up and saw understanding in his eyes, and they seemed a little too knowing. I hadn’t told him that my fury had also been for never having truly loved or been loved in return. His eyes were way too discerning for my taste. Wanting to break the uncomfortable tension I was feeling, I cleared my throat and looked away.

  “All right. Anger I can work with, especially since you seem to have quite a temper.”

  My mouth flapped open with a retort balanced on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back and shrugged, thinking, Ah well, what the hell. He was right.

  His brows rose at my agreement with his assessment of my character. He gestured to the mat, and we both quickly took our positions. I felt ridiculous in my skirts, but I grudgingly accepted that I had to work with them while living in 1904. I took a pose I’d learned in self-defense classes as Dr. Blake began to circle me, preparing to attack.

  Even though I knew I was perfectly safe, I still couldn’t keep my fists from clenching and my heart from thumping irregularly. This was my ultimate fear—the fear of being a victim.

  Dr. Blake lunged, and I quickly dodged to my left. My skirts got tangled a bit as I moved, but I still eluded his grasp, just barely. I cursed under my breath, and Dr. Blake began grinning devilishly.

  Well, come on, then.

  I made a come-get-some sign with my hand, displaying false cockiness to mask my nervousness. That was my first mistake. My second mistake was thinking Dr. Blake would take it easy on me, or that his blind eye would give me an edge. He plowed into me, taking me down so quickly my head spun. With both of my hands tightly pinned above my head in only one of his larger ones and both of my legs held completely immobile by his longer, stronger ones, we were lying chest-to-chest, both breathing hard. It would have been nice at any other time, but at that moment, I was just pissed about losing so quickly.

  “Get off; you win, damn you!”

  A hard glint flashed in his eye, and his words took on a cruel edge. “Why don’t you make me?”

  “I mean it. Get off! You’re heavy,” I ground out.

  “Whatever are you going to do about it, Sage? You’re female; you’re weak and helpless. Pathetic, really. If I killed you, you would be getting what you deserved.”

  A red haze filled my vision… they were so similar, those words.

  My terror soared beyond reasoning, and I began to struggle in earnest as the images I’d blocked from my mind so long ago slithered in. I never forgot the words he had spoken, or the mingled scent of his unwashed body, tobacco, and mint. The phantom smell swelled up around me so strongly I almost gagged. And then, the rage came, but this time a power came with it that I wish I’d had back on that hot July night when I had been only fifteen and so helpless.

  I welcomed the power as it surrounded me like a pliable bubble. My left hand came free, and I became aware of Dr. Blake frozen above me, his face questioning. My shock almost made me drop the tentative grasp I had on the bendable power. Returning my focus to my current predicament, I wiggled my other hand free from Dr. Blake’s grasp and rubbed my wrists. I could still feel the bubble of power surrounding me and pulsing from my body like an invisible membrane.

  On a whim, I skimmed my fingers over the scar on Dr. Blake’s face, lingering at the point where it began above his brow. I pushed back the hair that fell over his blind eye, unable to stop myself. He would never know. A slow breath escaped my lips as I pulled myself out from beneath his body. Standing up, I took a few steps back, feeling like I was on the outside of reality, looking in.

  Such an odd sensation, I thought.

  Reluctantly, I released my hold on the power and felt it snap back into my body just as Dr. Blake made an ‘oomph’ sound, landing face-first on the mat, hands clutching air where my hands had once been.

  “What the bloody hell?” He jumped up and swung around. His hand went to the scarred side of his face as if he felt the lingering sensation of my impulsive touch.

  “Good God, Sage! That was amazing! One second I had you pinned, and the next, you were gone—vanished!” His boyish smile and enthusiasm was contagious, and I felt myself grinning in return.

  I started to walk toward him when I realized my legs felt like Jell-O. Holy crap, was I exhausted!

  Dr. Blake was by my side instantly, helping me into an armchair. I rested my head on the back of the chair and vaguely heard him say he was going to get tea. The next thing I knew, his hand was on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake.

  “Here, Sage; have some tea and a muffin. The sugar will help you.”

  I sat up and did as I was told for once. Dr. Blake sat in an armchair close to mine and had a cup as well.

  “You called me Sage,” I remarked after I had, in a quite unladylike way, inhaled an entire muffin.

  He looked a bit confused for a second, and then I saw a muscle twitch in his jaw as his mouth settled into a thin line.

  “I am sorry, Miss Hannigan. I got excited when you did so well,” he said, his tone once again arctic.

  I sighed. Geez, I screwed that up.

  “When I pinned you down—” he began, and I stiffened at the memory, “—the look on your face… Well, I almost stopped because it seemed too real to you,” he said.

  I looked him directly in the eye. “Yes, yes it was,” I whispered.

  Standing wearily, I walked to the doorway on shaky legs. “What happened…”

  I trailed off, cleared my throat, and began again. “What happened was a long time ago, and I promised myself I’d never be helpless again. Please, don’t waste energy feeling sorry for me.”

  “I don’t,” he replied, astonishing me. “I feel proud to know you. You are a very surprising woman, Miss Hannigan.”

  I looked over my shoulder at him, my eyes full of the gratitude I felt. “Thank you, Dr. Blake.”

  As
I walked out the door, I called over my shoulder, “And, Doctor? Please call me Sage.”