Chapter Thirty

  We sit in silence, thinking.

  “I know he puts himself in a bit of a dangerous position doing what he does each morning,” says Roxy, somewhat out of the blue. “To do what he does takes guts. Everyone, but everyone, thinks he’s crazy. Sure, they’re not wrong, but God, I am so proud of him.”

  Allie and Alexis, both seated on either side of her on the small table, reach over and rub her shoulders. She smiles at each and does her best to look brave.

  After a few minutes, Roxy breaks the silence. “Okay, so we confirmed the watch could feasibly tell us where he is in time... we just need a way to, you know, look at his watch. That’s what this all comes down to. Am I right?”

  “Spot on,” I say. I don’t mention anything about cell towers and watch times because… magic.

  “This calls for more wine,” says Allison.

  “Just a little more,” I say. “Getting blitzed isn’t going to help Roy.”

  My friend digs through the fridge and comes out with another bottle of something red. She pours us all a half glass and we move the meeting of the minds into Roy’s living room. Three of us on the couch, with Alexis in the chair-and-a-half.

  “So, now what, ladies?” asks Allison.

  Alexis sits forward. “I liked what Roxy mentioned before all the watch stuff.”

  “What did I say?” she asks.

  I nod, remembering, because it had stuck out to me as well. “When you wished that you and Allison could team up.”

  “Oh, I was just being silly. Wasn’t I?” She looks around, a tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Ladies?”

  “Maybe not. There might be something to that,” says the mermaid. She crosses her legs and bounces her foot, her skinny jeans veritably painted on.

  “Weirdly, so did I,” says Allison. “Think maybe the universe is telling us something?”

  “Not sure what it’s telling us,” says Roxy, who just as quickly sinks back into a funk. “Because last I checked, I can’t combine my talents with someone else’s. Nor do I even know what that means, truth be told.”

  “Unfortunately,” I say, nodding toward the extraordinary women in the living room. “I think we would need the three of you to team up.”

  “How do you figure, Samantha?” asks the mermaid.

  “Roxy to hone in on her brother; Allie to see the beast; and you to telepathically speak to him.”

  “And say what to him?” she asks, blinking.

  I grin, knowing how crazy this all sounds, mostly because we don’t even know if it’s a possibility. “Why, to ask him to swipe through the screens on his watch.”

  “To the date!” shouts Roxy, clapping.

  “Samantha,” says Alexis, “I strongly doubt I could have a normal telepathic communication with someone so far away in space and time.”

  “Agreed,” I say. “But you don’t need to have an actual conversation with him. You only need to prompt him to change the face of his watch to that of his current date and year.”

  “I can’t imagine I would be able to.”

  “That’s okay,” I say. “That’s where Allie comes in.”

  Allison grins at me. “I could then remotely view the watch face and report back to you with the date and time.”

  “Exactly,” I say. I look at Roxy. “I could then make the leap to your brother.”

  “All good in theory,” says the twin, “but unless one of you has the ability to turn the three of us into one focused beacon of paranormal power, it’ll remain just that... a theory.”

  “None of us can,” I say, “but I might know someone who could.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The Creature

  It is ancient but does not know it. It is massive and is aware that this is so. It is hungry... always hungry.

  It is an optimistic feeder and doesn’t know any different. If it moves, it will be eaten, no matter what the size. That the scenery changes before it is nothing new and is expected; again, it knows no difference.

  Surprisingly, the creature is only about a hundred years old. That it was born 120 million years ago is lost on it, nor does it care. What are years to a creature perfectly adapted to travel through time and eating anything and everything in its path?

  Time is meaningless to it. All it knows is hunger and the occasional need to procreate with the female of its kind. In its 100 or so years of being alive, it has only once come across such a female. They did what nature intended. It was an experience the beast is eager to have again.

  This is a simple thought that is alive deep in its brain, a thought that is more instinct than anything, though it remembers the experience as being a highlight of its life.

  Like all beasts, it is forever in the moment. For it, the moment is everything.

  That its kind evolved to use time travel as a means of survival couldn’t be more lost on the massive creature. It uses naturally the gifts of the universe. That its hide is particularly adapted to pass through space time in a sort of bubble, something akin to antigravity, would, of course, be lost on the beast. How it accelerates through time and space is as natural to it as a lioness commanding its perfectly evolved body to chase a fleeing gazelle.

  How and why nature allowed this creature of all creatures to time travel effortlessly is, perhaps, obvious enough. It naturally seems to appear in oceans teeming with life. Even if the seas aren’t very abundant, it has something akin to predictive sonar to lock in on a prey target from many years and decades away.

  In the case of the human swimmer, the beast had been roaming the coastal waters off California, moving in and out of the years. It snapped up sharks and seals and anything else in its path, until it came across the swimmer. As an interesting-looking morsel that it didn’t normally see, it had locked onto the man. The area hadn’t been particularly bountiful, even in the decade or so it scanned as it swam. Sure, there was plenty of food along its shores, but the creature was far too big to get close enough. The human swimming in the open water would be its last meal before turning away to greener pastures, so to speak.

  And so it did what it had been doing all its life... it appeared through time and space, somewhat magically, beneath the prey... and rose up to snap it up. Not particularly big, and the human’s skin tasted anything but natural, but down it went, and the beast turned toward deeper waters, already moving backward in time, swimming faster and faster.

  It would not be too much longer after consuming the human that the creature would feel the raw irritation in its throat. It wouldn’t be the first time it had eaten something that had gotten caught in its long throat... or torn up the throat on its way down. Some prey have their own set of massive teeth, or claws and sharp fins.

  Of course, the 120-million-year-old dinosaur doesn’t really understand any of this, though instinct tells it to flush away the pain with more food and some water.

  And it does that now, all while swimming further and further back in time...

  Chapter Thirty-two

  I look at the time on my cell. Just after 5 p.m.

  Hmm. I hadn’t thought to look at the time on my phone when I took the leap backward thirty minutes. Not sure it matters in this case, but it would be interesting to know if cell phones reacted similarly to watches. Or not. Seems like a bit of work to figure out something that’s not needed in any investigation. I’ll look into it when and if needed.

  For now, just after five o’clock on a weekday means some serious rush-hour traffic. Which is a problem when looking for a guy speedily moving through time. If our theory is correct, of course.

  And I think it is.

  Oh, and traffic is for schmucks.

  I gather the girls together in the living room and have everyone join hands. Roxy looks a bit nervous, but we all reassure her it’ll be over before she knows it. With that, I summon the single flame and see a hallway full of books in it. There might be someone standing at the far end of the hallway, but we’ll deal with him or her later. For now, it’s time to make the jump, which we do.

  Roxy screams. I don’t blame her. The four of us stumble a bit when we appear in a brightly lit hallway before a bright-red door. She keeps on screaming until Allison reaches over and covers her mouth. “Shh... it’s okay.”

  Alexis’s small noise didn’t go unnoticed. She squeaked, then quickly covered her own mouth. “I’ve been to hell and back,” she says, “but that’s a first for me.”

  Meanwhile, we most definitely got the attention of someone at the far end of the super-long row of books. After all, we appeared on the third floor of Cal State Fullerton’s massive library. The person, a female college student dressed in sweats and an oversized flannel shirt, had fallen back against the wall. Not quite all the way to the floor. Somehow, her splayed hands keep her mostly on her feet.

  “Oh, my God,” she says again and again.

  “A moment,” I say to the ladies around me, and turn and sprint down the hallway. One side is books, and the other is a blank wall. I happen to know what’s on the other side of the blank wall, even if most, if not all, of the students (and faculty) here at Cal State, don’t.

  I’m standing in front of her in a heartbeat or two, clearly faster than she expected, adding to her fear. She’s cute, just a year or so older than Tammy, and clearly not ready for four supernaturals to appear in the hallway.

  “It’s okay,” I say.

  “Who-who are you? What’s happening?” Her voice is far too loud for a library situation, even if this library is damn near a half mile long on each side.

  “Shh. Quiet,” I command.

  “How did you guys just appear?”

  I said, “Quiet.”

  “But—”

  “Quiet.”

  She whimpers a bit but closes her open mouth, staring at me.

  “You did not see us, and you are finished searching in this aisle. You will speak to no one about us because you did not, in fact, see us.”

  I hear Allison giggling in my head. Hey, I tell her, it’s been a minute since I commanded anyone to do anything more than look at me.

  She giggles some more, and I turn back to the student. “Understood?”

  She nods her head.

  “Good,” I tell her. “Go, um, in peace.”

  She squints at me in a bit of confusion.

  “Just go,” I add, and she does, moving off quickly down the hallway.

  When I return to the gang, Allison nods at me approvingly. “You’ve been working on the mind control thing again, I see. A little clunky.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m still getting the hang of it...”

  “Let’s hope she went in peace and not in pieces.”

  Allison winks, rocking back on her heels. Roxy frowns in confusion, and Alexis chuckles, covering her mouth. Undoubtedly, the mermaid had also listened in on my conversation with the student.

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s not as easy as it looks.”

  “Sam, why are we here?” says Roxy.

  “There’s a man I want you to meet. Alexis, too. He just might be able to help us.”

  I turn and knock on the red door.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Max

  My name is Archibald Maximus, and I’m the librarian at the Occult Reading Room here at Cal State Fullerton.

  I’m also the headmaster at the Light Warriors school located in one of the many layers of center earth. We used to call it middle earth until Tolkien swiped the name, but it’s all good. He can have it.

  The Light Warrior academy was and is still a big deal, but we are not actively recruiting as hard as we once did. With the death of my mother and many of her dark master followers, the need for high-level alchemical warriors has fallen. That is, of course, until the next dark master decides to try her hand at taking over the earth... or, in the case of my mother, a parallel world similar in shape and size, though decidedly far less advanced. Easier to take over a world that isn’t pointing nukes at your army of dark wizards.

  Yes, my mom. No love lost there. She is my mom in name only, though once, 500 years ago, she had at least made a small attempt at raising me before she became lost in the darkness of what she became. Believe it or not, she used to like to cook for me. Little did I know that my own mother was learning the dark arts at a faster rate than just about anyone, and mastering them, unlike any other. Truth be told, I had caught a wicked gleam in her eye when she would lop the head off a chicken or slit the throats of our goats.

  Yeah, I had issues growing up.

  Turns out, all things witchy and wizardly runs in our veins. Once I witnessed the evil my mother was capable of (think human sacrifice), I knew I had to fight her with all I had, and thank God I came across the Light Warriors, who were eager to train me and take me into their ranks, though some always eyed me with some suspicion, thinking I was a spy.

  Until they saw me in battle... and until I helped forge the Void that would eventually imprison my mother and her army of dark masters. Only then would I be accepted as one of their own, a true Light Warrior.

  Those days are long gone, of course, and many of the old warriors have passed on, though a few continue even into the present, keeping their corporeal bodies alive long past their expiration by means alchemical, with the help of an intricately worded incantation and a small sliver of the philosopher’s stone. Of course, I have such a sliver, too.

  Speaking of which, I ended the tedious spell-casting a little over two years ago, and thus re-introduced my body to the concept of aging. No longer will I look like a fresh-faced student in the middle of his collegiate studies. No, two years hasn’t been enough time to see any actual evidence of aging, but I know it will come, and I welcome it.

  The hours spent in ceremony, carefully going over the incantation needed to keep me immortal—all in order to stave off my mother and her goons—took much from me. Combine that with my time as headmaster at the Light Warrior school (a reminder of just how far I had come from the days of being eyed with suspicion), and my time here at the occult library, and I’m ashamed to admit that I have not seen much of the world, above or below!

  Time to remedy that, which is why I have been working closely with my successor at the academy. Already, my time is freeing up, and I expect to travel the world soon enough. Undoubtedly, this will cause some panic in some of my library’s clientele. Granted, I don’t get many patrons, but those I do really, really need the books found only here. Of course, not all are given access to the world’s most dangerous books. I personally vet each and every request. With my mind reading having disappeared with the death of my mother, vetting has become a bit more cumbersome, but I have my ways.

  Okay, that sounds mysterious. And it is, but I have spirit guides and angel guides who do the dirty work for me, so to speak. I absolutely cannot let some of these books fall into the wrong hands. Which is one reason powerful spells surround the library. Yes, I had a hand in most of the spells, and no, I am unaware of anyone who can break them. My mother, maybe. Which is ironic, considering how many times she had entered this hallowed space by hitchhiking inside Samantha Moon.

  My vampy friend did an admirable job of keeping the dark witch at bay. Little does the world at large know that the fortitude of a relatively new vampire mama had kept a monster prisoner.

  Well, for as long as she could.

  Speaking of which, I see Samantha Moon and a small entourage have manifested just outside the door into the reading room. The secret door, of course. Few can see it, and still fewer are let through.

  Little does Samantha Moon know that I have an all-seeing spell located outside the door (and inside the room as well). It’s the occult version of home security. When I’m alerted of a possible patron, I need only to find a door—any door at all—and discreetly use it to find myself in the occult reading room’s back office.

  Which is where I appear now after having opened a door along a dusty hallway at the academy in the center of the earth.

  We really should clean that hallway.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Max studies us briefly, then nods as if someone had said something to him. It wasn’t one of us, since we stand there quietly, a group of four ladies crowding the door.

  He’s speaking to his spirit guides, I believe, says Alexis in my head. I can only hear his side of the conversation, mind you.

  Any idea what they’re talking about?

  They’re confirming for him that we are who we say we are and our intentions are pure. A process he can no longer do. His mind is deep and troubled. Ah, I see he was, in essence, your stepchild.

  I glance at her. Stepchild?

  His mother possessed you. He associates her with you. Ah, I see why he’s so troubled. He’s been at war with his own mother for centuries, in one capacity or another.

  Better be careful digging too deep in there, Alexis. God only knows what you will find.

  I’m back out now.

  Why couldn’t you hear his spirit guides, I ask.

  That communication is always secret; at least, half of it is. I can hear him.

  You’re not mad, are you, Sam? It was just a joke.

  Do I really look like I could have a kid who’s 500 years old?

  She nudges me with her shoulder, laughing under her breath. Allison laughs, too, having followed our telepathic communique. Roxy blinks and undoubtedly wonders what’s happening to her, or if she’s sound asleep.

  Actually, says Alexis, she’s wondering if she’s in a nuthouse somewhere. Kind of like you do... often.

  I shrug. It would explain a lot of this craziness.

  Alexis does a one-shoulder shrug as Max finally gives a final nod. The vetting process takes all of twenty seconds. “This way, ladies.”

  Upon stepping into the room, he advises the newbies to avoid the books on the left, some of which, if you listen closely enough, call out to you. Like a litter of kittens, my three new and old friends arch their heads toward the books, clearly hearing the screeching and beseeching.