Sable Book 1 of Chaos Time (Chaos Time Series) (10 page)

Right now all he wanted was the time to do what he needed so that he could leave. Her life would go on as before without any consequences other than a few minutes she couldn’t quite remember.

“Go back to you register and watch the door,” he ordered once he’d finished.

“Back to the door,” she muttered under her breath and never looked back at him as he finished his shopping.

He grabbed a pair of acid washed jeans, some black motorcycle boots and a pleather jacket. He’d have gone for the leather fringe one, except that that probably cost a small fortune. A pair of black and pink hello kitty socks wrapped up his trip.

He walked to the changing area and jumped again, one last time. This time to a grocery store to pick up shampoo, deodorant, spray and a dark red book bag to carry it all in. In her other life she’d always been obsessed with smelling good. The way Sable continued to cringe at her clothing and hair made him think she was very similar in a lot of ways to The Phoenix he’d known.

He wasn’t sure what type of spray she’d like now, but before she’d always smelled of flowers. He picked the one nearest to what he remembered and then returned to her wondering, hoping, he’d gotten things right.

She was where he’d left her, shivering and rubbing her hands along her arms. “I didn’t think you were gonna come back,” she admitted softly.

“Here,” he thrust the bag at her, “go get cleaned. I’ll order us some food.”

She unzipped the book bag and sighed happily. “Clean clothes. Thanks, Hunter.”

He shrugged and shoved her back toward the store. She practically flew in her haste to shower. He smiled, feeling like he’d done at least one good thing today.

Almost twenty minutes later he sat at a booth as the waitress set two steaming plates of burgers and fries in front of him. He’d had to use another of his Jedi mind tricks to get her to buy their lunch for them. He was really going to have to figure out a better way to provide for them. He’d learned long ago the way to control his… baser side... was to do things by the book. Abusing his power led to darker paths. Paths he could no longer walk.

As if on cue, Sable came out of the bathroom, wearing a large happy smile and the new clothes he’d gotten her. Her hair was damp but gleamed like polished wood. Her face was clean, clear of dirt and grime. She looked completely different from the girl he’d rescued two days ago.

More youthful, less laden with the cares of the world. The bruises on her face and neck were healing nicely, another day and they’d be gone completely they were so faint now. Part of being the phoenix was faster than normal healing, she’d need that.

Sable sat and bit her lip. “I like the clothes,” she said it with reluctance.

He grabbed the ketchup bottle and squeezed a little on his plate and dumped a lot on hers. “Do you? I’m glad. I worried about the shirt.”

The best way to get her to calm down was to just pretend nothing they did was abnormal. Hunter got the sense this phoenix did not like being beholden to others, fine by him.

“Oh no,” she grabbed a fry and then dropped it quickly, waving her hand, “hot little bastards,” she huffed, and then picked it up again, but this time by its tip, “it’s my favorite actually.”

“Good,” he said, still acting nonchalant, “that’s good.”

They ate in silence for a bit, she dipped fry after fry into her ketchup and was on her second serving of ketchup when she finally spoke up. “That wasn’t an accident was it?”

He took a giant bite out of his double patty cheeseburger, speaking around his food, “what?”

“The clothes. The body spray. You really do know me, or knew me,” she frowned, “the Phoenix at least. Whatever. We really did fight together before didn’t we?”

He quirked his brow, giving silent assent.

“But I wasn’t me though right?” She touched the center of her chest.

“Why do you ask that question?”

“Because when I dream of the Phoenix I don’t see me. I see a different person. I don’t understand how she and I share so many of the same traits.”

“Maybe it’s not you.” He shrugged. “Maybe those traits belong to the Phoenix.”

She blew out a deep breath, her burger only half eaten, when she finally pushed the plate away. “I’m full,” she sounded glum again. He would have asked her what was up, but she’d always worn her emotions on her sleeve. He could almost see her tongue dancing behind her mouth, ready to explain. He’d give her the time to work up the courage.

He finished his burger before she finally did it.

“Dammit, Hunter, I don’t want to be on some apocalyptic journey. I don’t want to do this. All last night I kept seeing fat bastard’s face twisted and bloated with blood.” She shuddered. “This isn’t supposed to be happening,” her voice cracked.

He pushed his empty plate away and leaned back against the tacky avocado green plastic booth. “But it is happening. We can’t stop it. We can’t change what is now, only what is to come.”

She toyed with her fork, dragging it along the plate. “I know that. I think I’ve finally accepted it. I dream of that psycho almost every night. Long before I ever even met you, I knew Dragden.”

He nodded. “He haunts you, Sable, because the Phoenix recognizes him as her greatest enemy and one she’s been unable to vanquish. She’s become obsessed with her need to end him. None of this will stop until he’s dead.”

She closed her eyes, dropping her head into her hands. “Before I agree to this, I have to know. How did you find me? How did you know it was me?”

He’d been expecting her to ask that question eventually. He draped his arm over the back of his seat. “You tried to kill yourself once.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.

“I knew that you were depressed, but we weren’t really getting along by that point anymore so I couldn’t talk with you. Couldn’t help you. You were as vital to the fight then as you are now and,” he shrugged, twisting his lip, “call me selfish, but I needed you too much to let you go. So I plucked one of your feathers out while we were fighting.”

She frowned. “How does that...”

“Your feathers can be used as beacons to find you or any of your incarnations. At least that’s what you told me then.”

She grabbed her soda and took a look drag from it. “So who was she? I keep seeing a raven haired woman, but the eyes are the same.”

He shook his head. “Even though I’ve known you and experienced your Phoenix before, she still amazes me. You are correct. Her name was Errol.”

She scratched her neck, worry gleamed back at him. “Why didn’t you get her? Why me? I’m from the past. It would seem that she’d have more to gain helping you then I would.”

He could tell her he didn’t have a choice, that the feather led him to the strongest pulse of the Phoenix, that he’d never intended it be her at all. But he knew she’d suffered too much rejection already. To tell her that, to admit it, would only hurt her and possibly ruin this alliance. So he told her a half-truth. “Because there was darkness in Errol.”

She licked her lips, picking at a chipped spot on the table. He could read the curiosity written across her face, he expected her to ask him more about her. But she surprised him.

“Then what’s the plan? How do we stop this?”

He checked his sigh of relief, Errol was a topic he’d rather not discuss in depth just yet. “We find the others and we go to the first Lord.”

She sighed. “But I’ll kill them. One scream out of my mouth and they’ll be dead.”

He shook his head.

“I’ve seen it happen, Hunter. How can I be any help when my powers make me so dangerous to everyone around me?”

“That’s because you didn’t know what you were doing. You can direct that sound to many or to just one. You make a conscious choice and then you strike.”

She frowned. “But my nanny? I killed her in my sleep, Hunter. I wasn’t trying to scream, it just happened.”

“I know, and you did it to me the other day. Simplest explanation I can give is it’s like a steam valve. Release a little pressure every day, bit by bit, and you’ll be fine. But if you swallow it, hold it in, eventually that pressure builds, because it has to escape, except when it does it’s an explosion with deadly consequences.”

“So use it. Don’t be afraid of it? That’s what you’re saying.”

He nodded.

“And the more I use it—”

“The quicker you’ll learn to control it,” he said, finishing her thought. “It’ll be more like an arrow as opposed to shrapnel the more you fine tune your skills. Use it, Sable. Become who you were always meant to be.”

“Then let’s do this quickly because I can’t take any more.”

He got out of the booth and held his hand out to her. She took it hesitantly. “Let’s go find our healer then.”

Chapter 10: When the healing kills

Darkness.

Madness.

Magic.

Arianna shot up in bed, her sweat soaked hair clung to her forehead and neck. Her heart twisted in her chest. The presence of the dream lingered in her room like a predator crouched in shadow ready to strike for the kill.

She swallowed the bile trapped in her throat and kicked off her sheet. A rush of air swept through her window, cooling her body and bringing her more fully awake.

Outside the noise of nocturnal beasts filled the air like an eerie melody. Locusts chirped, bats screeched, and constrictors slithered.

She padded on silent feet toward her window and stared out at the jungle she called home. The faint buzz of energy hummed through her veins.

Taking deep breaths, she hung her head and willed herself to calm.

A door slammed. The pounding of several footsteps traveled up the soles of her feet.

She twirled and ran toward her bedroom door. Laying her head against the wood she listened, hearing only the deep timbre of muffled voices. It was not uncommon for her father to be visited in the dead of night by those requesting her... services. Cracking the door open a sliver she peeked out.

Five men, dressed in military fatigues, with machetes and rifles strapped to their backs surrounded her mother and father.

“Arquimedes Morena?” The leader, a dark haired pock faced man, barked.

Her father grabbed her mother and shielded her behind his back.

“Yes.” His voice was confident, powerful.

She stared hard at her parents by the reflection of a mirror. Only because she knew her father so well she was able to read the fear he masked with a false coolness. It scrawled a subtle, yet powerful trail through his eyes.

Arianna blinked, groaning low as a rising thrum of crystal resonance built to the bursting point inside her skull. She grabbed her head, clenching her fists until her nails dug into her flesh.

Something was wrong.

This wasn’t right. Callers came with gifts, not weapons. The men had hard, lecherous eyes. A man toward the back of the group caressed his rifle with the delicate touch of a lover, his gaze unswerving.

Fear slithered down her spine and wrapped a hard fist around her heart.

The man in front had his arms crossed behind his back and continued to stare at her father for what felt like hours before he finally smiled.

“So you are the viper in our midst?” He laughed, the inhuman sound dripped with scorn and sarcasm. He drew a line in the dirt with his booted toe. “Why Hector would bother with something as pathetic as you I’ll never know. But I don’t ask questions.”

Her father’s eyes grew wide and he mouthed the name.

Papa, who is it? Who is Hector? What does he want with us? Papa, please...

Hija, hide. Get back!

His reprimand ripped like a lash through her mind.

She moaned and grabbed her brow.

Papa, I can’t leave you. I can’t leave mama. I’m scared.

Yes! You must. We knew this day would come. We have to protect who you are at all costs. Dejame ya, y vaya con Dios.

“But I pride myself on my fairness,” the leader continued on, none the wiser to the private conversation taking place before him.

A soldier snickered behind him. The leader narrowed his eyes and twirled on the man, stabbing his blunt finger hard enough into the man’s chest to make him stumble backwards. “If you don’t want to share the same fate as them, Alex, then you’d do well to mind that tongue of yours. Entiendes?”

“Si.” The man bobbed his head up and down, eyes bulging wide. “Lo siento, senor.”

The other soldiers stood as silent sentinels, guns pointed at her parent’s midsection.

The flicker of candlelight created dancing shadows upon the guerillas’ faces, transforming them from human to diablo.

“If you can cross this line,” the leader pointed to the ground, “then you and your family,” he glanced at the door she hid behind--she gasped-- “are free to go.”

Papa! Don’t step over the line. Don’t do it. Please. I’ll save you.

Arianna screamed telepathically. She knew the leader lied. Could taste the falsehood quivering on the air like the silky strands of a spider web.

No, Arianna, it is our time. The Father keep you, my lovely dove.

Her father stepped one foot over the line.

“Hector Delgado gives his regard,” the leader said. The roar of bullets entered her father’s gut. His eyes bulged as he grabbed at his stomach to staunch the blood.

Her mother screamed and clung to her father.

Arianna threw the door aside and ran. “No! Papa.”

“Arianna—” Her father coughed up a crimson puff, wheezing desperately for air. “Leave.” He closed his eyes.

“Filthy dog.” The pock faced man spit by her father’s foot.

One guerilla twirled on her, his gun raised, his hard black eyes reptilian in appearance.

“Arianna, go. Run away,” her mother urged.

“Papa,” she screamed and fell to her knees. There was so much blood. Everywhere. How could she heal him?

The leader smirked. “Gasoline.”

Arianna didn’t care what the men did now. Tears blurred her vision and her mind was tortured with dark images of hatred and agony. Rage rose inside her.

Three of the soldiers’ walked outside and returned with metal cans of sloshing fluid.