Shift of Time (A Rue Darrow Novel Book 1) (12 page)

“Dogs…drunks.” I pressed both hands to my mouth, stifling a laugh, but Nathan must have seen it in my eyes, and he scowled at me. After a moment, I pulled myself together and leaned toward him. “Are werewolves offended to be called dogs?”

“We have canine blood, but we’re not so common!”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Anyway,” he rushed on. “I returned to my apartment. You’re a vampire, so I figured you could take care of yourself. Still, something didn’t feel right, so I called Violet.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“No. She’s not really my type.”

I recalled the forceful woman with the dark hair and eyes and a bossy personality. “She’s pretty, but she seemed equally okay with letting me burn in the sunlight rather than save my life.”

“Don’t hold it against her,” he begged. “She was doing me a favor.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, Nathan.”

He blanched. “I mean, she’s angry with everyone. That’s kind of our nature. Anything that takes us out of our routine generally peeves us off.”

“Isn’t that a stereotype, and besides, you don’t seem like an angry person.”

He shrugged and studied his shoes. They were old and scuffed. For that matter, his clothes were well-worn and outdated. “I’m the type that keeps it together until I don’t. Then I’m an explosion all over the place. Loses me a bunch of jobs that way. I figured if I could go my own path, working for myself, no boss could decide I wasn’t ‘a team player’ or ‘company material.’”

Bitterness stood stark in each word Nathan spoke, and I saw a glimmer of the anger he mentioned simmering below the surface. He had the advantage of walking in daylight, but he had to contend with keeping his natural volatile temperament under control where there were hundreds of instances to set it off all day, every day. I supposed we all had our limitations in one way or another.

“Thank you for sending help,” I said. “I’ll owe you one.”

“Well, I’m here to collect.”

“What?”

“You can use help on this case. I led you to the house the first time, and you got hurt.”

“So did you.”

“Yeah, but I figure if we watch each other’s back, we’ll do fine. In the end, when you find what you’re looking for, you can split whatever it is you’re getting from the guy who hired you.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “Oh, split it, huh? I have more of the scents now. I can track them on my own.”

“And black out.”

“There’s nothing to indicate that I will. I’ll talk to Bill.”

“Who’s Bill? Is he your sire?”

“No, and you don’t have to sound jealous.”

He bristled. “I’m not jealous. You already rejected me last night. I’m not the kind of guy that keeps chasing a woman when she says no. I’m in it for the money. By the time I got home last night, I missed the chance to go to the restaurant I wanted to go to.”

“So you hunted?”

He grinned, his anger forgotten and raised his nose to the air as if he smelled good food. “I went to a twenty-four hour grocery store and bought a few steaks. I fried them. They were a little tough but still good.”

“You’re obsessed. No potatoes or vegetables?”

He flinched as if I’d pinched him. “Vegetables are for little fluffy animals!”

“You looked pretty fluffy last night.”

“Are you trying to stir my anger, Rue?”

“Yes, and no. I’m seeing that you’re easy to tease. I like it.”

“Well, stop. It’s dangerous.”

“But you assured everyone in your ad that you’ve never attacked anyone.”

His high color made me wonder if it had been a lie. I didn’t judge him. I knew all too well how the power at our disposal could creep out of hand. Comparing myself to Nathan, I began to consider something new. The ability of the vampire needed to be checked. Our lessening human emotions and our prevention from walking during the day were important. I would never kill anyone in a fit of uncontrolled rage, and my immortality meant little when I slept. I was at my most vulnerable then.

“I appreciate your offer, Nathan, but I’m going to do this alone.” He appeared crestfallen, and I stood to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. If I need you, I’ll call you. Promise.”

“A promise won’t put food in my stomach.”

“I’ll be a reference that you didn’t try to eat me.”

“Funny.” He rose. “Okay, but be careful, and don’t lose my number. No matter what time of night it is or where, I’ll come… For a fee.”

“Who is the frosty one now? Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

A
rguably
, the best tacos in New Orleans were those sold at Taceaux Loceaux. I ordered a whole slew of the Messin’ With Texas tacos, which were stuffed with slow-roasted brisket, shredded cabbage, radishes and cilantro. I had been told when I asked around that these tacos were enough to make a grown woman “dance in the streets,” and I hoped to charm Bill with my offering of them.

When I arrived at the library, the lights came on as before, and I walked inside without resistance. Perhaps the wards had my DNA or whatever they recorded to know it was me, a previous visitor. Thinking this way also made me wonder if Bill could manipulate the wards to change a person’s access from invited to
un
invited. I hoped I personally never had to find out.

“Bill?” I called when I didn’t immediately see him. “Are you here?”

I scanned the library and tried sensing him. The library appeared empty, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Bill had tricks of his own, which he avoided explaining when we chatted. I hadn’t pushed.

When he continued to ignore me, I walked over to one of the tables and set my bag on it. “I hope I didn’t buy these tacos for nothing. Maybe Georgia will eat them.”

He appeared beside me and peeked into the bag, eyes wide with interest. “These are…” I actually think his bottom lip trembled, but I could be wrong. “These are…my favorite.”

“Why do I feel like any kind I bring will be your favorite?”

He smiled and grasped the entire bag to stride away. Bill had his routine. He strode into the kitchen and unraveled each of the tacos to lie on a large plate. When he counted them, I shook my head. I don’t believe I know anyone normal. Six overstuffed tacos should have been enough for anyone. I expected him to put a few into the refrigerator for later. I was mistaken.

Bill’s eyes shined when he looked at me. “Thank you. I assume you want something?”

“Can’t I just want to bring my friend and trainer tacos?”

“Is this a thank you for training you?”

“No,” I rushed to say in case he took it that way and I was back to square one. “I need you to look at something for me and tell me what you make of it.”

He blinked at me, staring as he raised a taco to his lips. After he had chewed several bites and swallowed, he said, “The Fae’s box. What about it?”

“Is it what he says it is?”

Bill walked around me and headed back into the main library. Today, he wore a T-shirt that looked like an old Nintendo game console, an unbuttoned sweater imprinted with random people’s names, and the Dark Lord’s pajama bottoms, with red sneakers finishing off the ensemble. I winced at the visual onslaught. Perhaps he just enjoyed the freedom of being able to wear them so much he couldn’t decide between it all. When I thought of the man called Death I had known in the past, I recalled he had worn all black. I too would welcome splashes of color and variety in my life if I had spent centuries with none.

“Let me show you the box,” I said and slid the pack from my back to sit on the table.

“Not here.”

I glanced around the empty library. “Why not?” Then I saw them, snatches of others as before, people on other planes. I wasn’t sure if Bill was allowing me to see them, or I allowed myself to. Either way, it might be that beings from the other sides saw me without a problem. Bill was right. I was already breaking the terms of my agreement with Milo, and who knew who might be watching from one of the other dimensions.

Bill led us into another room, through a door that appeared from nowhere. The room was plain with no pictures or books, just a table in the center. Not even a chair eased the barrenness.

He gestured to the table. “Please.”

I set my bag down and unzipped it, but Bill brushed my hands aside to remove the pouch on his own. He handled the piece with care and set it down to study. I stood beside him, focused on the small square as well. Nothing new occurred to me, and I waited for Bill to offer insight. When he remained silent, I grew inpatient.

“Well, Bill? What do you think?”

“I think it’s powerful.”

“How so?”

He didn’t answer, and I considered throttling him. A single eyebrow rose, and I knew he had caught that thought.

“Is it a box to hold a valuable?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

I bent closer and put my finger out. Bill caught my hand and kept me from it. I didn’t understand why, but I dropped my hand to my side. Instead, I squinted at each of the visible sides, looking for a crevice or line that would indicate where it opened. If I could touch the darn thing, I might be able to pry it open. Of course, that might be what Bill worried about, but I was most certainly not in the habit of destroying things.

“That’s not what I think,” he said in answer to my silent indignity. “You disable spells. It’s possible you will disable what’s been cast into this box with too much handling.”

“A spell to keep the treasure safe?”

“Rue, I’ve already said it’s not a treasure chest.”

“Well what is it, for Pete’s sake? You’re not helping me very much. I want to know why my client didn’t want to tell me what his treasure is or does. I know by a demon’s loose lips that it’s called the shift of time. Do you know about that?”

“I may.”

I reached for the plate of tacos he hadn’t finished yet. He looked scandalized and drew them out of reach. “I can’t be bribed. Not if it interferes with another.”

No sense whatsoever in asking him to explain, but he chose to for my sanity, thank goodness.

“It’s likely whatever spells are woven into this box, there is also a tracking one.”

My mouth fell open. “So he knows it’s here?”

“Probably. I suspect if you were to disable the spells, he would know and come to see what happened.”

“Hm.” I waved my hand in front of the box. “Do you think he can see us?”

“It’s not a spy camera.”

“You’re funny, Bill.”

He bit into a taco and chewed with a blissful expression on his face.

We bandied thoughts about the box back and forth, me trying to come to some semblance of what Bill knew that he wasn’t telling me. I didn’t believe he held information back, although I couldn’t be sure. His way of thinking was so tight, which had me wondering how long he had been out of his job as a grim reaper. The last man who called himself Death hadn’t been that forthcoming either, not that I had questioned him much, being scared out of my mind he would cast me into a dark place I couldn’t return from. That kind of thing tends to skew a person’s memories.

Bill made a noise as if he were considering my way of thinking. I could hope he would take it into consideration and share more. I straightened and stretched. “Okay, the box isn’t a treasure chest. What is it?”

“A cage.”

This would be the moment chills raced down my back and goose bumps rose on my arms. Neither of those happened. “A cage?”

“Yes.”

A birdcage came to mind, but those held little doors that one could see and open. Of course this box being magic, the hinges might be invisible until Milo activated them.

“Oh, forget it! I’m done trying to work it out for now. Let’s just have our lesson.” I eyed Bill as he popped the last bite of food into his mouth and dropped my gaze to his belly. Not even the slightest pooch. “Are you going to be able to fight with a pound of meat in your stomach?”

He grinned, and the scene around us changed. The walls melted away, and the table upended and followed them.

“The box,” I shouted.

“I will keep it safe,” he promised.

I dove backward in what I had hoped would be an elegant leap but what turned out to be a tumbling embarrassment. Bill’s fist smashed the tiles where I had been standing, and he came up with vigor, ready to go.

“You’re avoiding me, Rue,” he instructed. “Come after me with everything, or you will lose—
again.
”

I managed a backward flip that brought my feet up to kick him in the chin. Grinning when I straightened, I was so proud of myself. That is, until Bill returned me to the floor. I moaned and flipped to my hands and toes. “I think I’ll lose either way. Your power is boundless, Bill.”

“I’m happy you think so.”

I kicked a foot out to try to sweep his from under him. His movements blurred as he avoided my touch. “Does that mean you have a weakness?”

“You may never know.” He grinned.

I fought him with all my energy until dawn, and then I ran at top speed for home. I felt the sun coming at my back and the force before me, pushing to slow me. I divided the wind, and it felt like I moved much faster than I had the day before. When the first rays peeped over the horizon, I lay in bed asleep.

I
left
work with a new mindset. I would trust in my abilities. The night before proved to me I could grow and improve. Not that I thought I couldn’t or somehow I was defective. Just seeing evidence of it gave me greater confidence.

So, I found a central location in the city and a quiet spot to center myself. In the still night, I closed my eyes. First I shut out what I heard, the voices of humans and nonhumans near and far. I cleared my mind of interpreting everything and creating pictures of it all in my head. Rather, I focused on opening my senses while at the same time pulling in the aromas all around me.

One after another, I analyzed the data and rejected what wasn’t a match to the people I had smelled in the house that night. My system wasn’t perfect. I kept getting lost down the proverbial rabbit hole and lured by the memories a particular smell evoked. However, after almost an hour of doing this, I thought I had the tiniest of inklings. I could be wrong, but I had to check it out.

I left my perch and sped along the streets, zipping across traffic and past people moving at much slower paces. When I neared a small diner on Bourbon Street, I slowed and took my time. Here the scent was strong, and I almost danced for joy knowing I had been right. Someone who was just yards away from me had been in that house. On the other hand, picking up the scent so close to my stomping grounds annoyed me. I was sure nothing had presented itself before tonight though.

Light spilled onto the sidewalk, and as I drew closer, my muscles tightened. I was ready just in case of an attack. I glanced up at the sign hanging from the brick wall of the place and then back at the picture window, which displayed a row of diners occupying candy apple red booths.

Wait, what had I been thinking? I was focused on finding the person and then elated that I succeeded in doing so, but I missed one important fact. The person inside the diner who I smelled was human. To be more specific, I gaped at not one but two humans sitting across from each other, and the one whose scent I knew from the house was a boy who couldn’t be more than thirteen.

“Definitely human,” I muttered to myself, confused and somewhat deflated.

I entered the diner by way of the back door, the one farthest from the humans. Finding a seat against the wall, I slid into it, never taking my eyes off the couple. The girl’s back was to me, but from what I had seen outside, she was late teens with jet-black hair parted down the middle and swept into a high, messy ponytail. Tattoos of various designs ran along her arms and across the slender nape of her neck. She was an ethereal goth beauty whose irritation emanated to me across the diner.

The young boy held a fresher look, not just because of his age but maybe because of the ash blond hair and the eager blue eyes. He leaned toward the girl across from him, hands pressed to the table, cheeks pink and white T-shirt smudged with dirt in several places. My unbeating heart almost ached looking at him because he reminded me of my son Jake at that age. This boy had been in that house, no doubt about it, and I had an urge to give his father or whoever had put him in such danger a piece of my mind.

Concentrating on the boy and girl, I isolated their voices from the others in the diner as well as those on the street.

“Come on, tell me,” the boy coaxed the girl.

“Ugh, why don’t you go away, pipsqueak? I’m busy.”

“You don’t look busy.” The boy tried to touch her hand, and she jerked away as if he might burn her. I noted the fleeting look of hurt on his face before it disappeared, and he took on the expression of a boy who knew he could get what he wanted if he tried hard enough.

“Well, I am busy, so beat it, kid.”

“We’re practically the same age!”

The girl laughed. “You don’t think I believe that one, do you? Maybe you’re short for your age.”

The boy drew himself up straighter and pushed a narrow chest out. I started to understand what was happening here. He had come across the goth girl and thought her pretty, so he would charm her into getting to know him better. From the girl’s tone and body language, she wasn’t interested. Yet, I also picked up tension. Something was bugging her, and she kept glancing out the window. I looked too and stretched out my senses. No nonhumans were nearby.

A waitress came by and set a plate of fries on the table. The girl ate after slopping on half the bottle of ketchup. The boy stared, obvious hunger in his eyes. I was reaching into my pocket for money for him when the girl grumbled and thrust her plate toward him.

“Well, if you don’t want it all,” he said, “I can take a few off your hands.”

He gobbled half the plate in record time, leaving new smudges, this time ketchup, on his shirt.
Way to win the girl, sweetheart.

Jake had gone through that stage, liking girls but just not cool enough. Then something happened to him, a switch clicked in his head. My little brainiac went from nerd to popular kid. He’d even filled out more, and his studious nature gave him an appeal to girls that interpreted it as the strong, smart type. I rolled my eyes even thinking of it. When he moved to Raleigh, a few teenage girls were weepy over his loss. Mason had better be keeping an eye on any situations starting there. I reminded myself to ask about it first chance I got.

Refocusing on the conversation across the room, I was in time to hear the boy ask, “What’s your name?”

“None of your business.”