Contingency (2 page)

My mind raced trying to come up with a reason for everything that was happening--a logical explanation. How could this possibly be explained? I was either still dreaming or I had entered an alternate reality where I was a flippin’ insane person. I doubted I had entered an alternate reality and a quick slap to my own face proved I wasn’t still dreaming. So what exactly could have happened?

My mind snagged on something the old lady from the previous evening said to me, and a huge rock of uncertainty settled in my stomach; I had a sneakin’ suspicion I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. I was even surer that blowing off everything that happened with that old lady had been a huge mistake. 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 and 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 hell was I going to do now? I looked down at my torn, dirty night gown and noticed the fresh scratches on my legs. I took another deep breath and tried not to freak out. Visions of a trip to a mental institute danced through my mind. I wished sugar plums had been instead. 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 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 7 or 8 years old, across the street whistling as he walked down the sidewalk. Before I could talk myself out of it, I ran across to talk to him. As I got closer, his eyes widened as he took in my appearance. I didn’t blame him, I probably looked a bit disturbed.

“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, and if you tell me your name then we’ll know a little about each other.” I tried to paste a smile on my face that was sincere and warm. He seemed to relax a tiny bit. I guess a young woman in a dirty night dress didn’t rate high on the threat meter.

“My name’s Jax, miss.” he said.

“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 23
^rd
,
” he said matter-of-factly.

“Ok...but what year is it?” I asked. Jax looked at me, his face scrunched up as if there was a puzzle he couldn’t figure out.

“The year is 1904, miss.”

Uh, 1904?

“Dear lord,” I murmured. My mind immediately began rejecting everything the little boy said, it was just too impossible to comprehend. Instead of screaming out the fear and frustration building inside myself, I tried to tuck them all away so I could focus on my immediate problem. Getting help. Jax started to edge around me, no doubt 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’d help ya if she can.”

I smiled and thanked him with genuine feeling this time. With that, Jax scurried off, and I was left with a city starting to wake up, and a dawning realization that I had somehow landed myself in another time. A time where being dressed as I was could land me in a whole heap of trouble.

“I will not freak out, I will not freak out, I will not freak out!” I repeated the mantra to myself, hoping it would help me keep my composure. I walked briskly north in what I hoped was the right direction. If I remembered correctly, Franklin Street was only a couple blocks away. I kept to the dark shadows of buildings as I didn’t need anyone seeing me and asking questions I didn’t have answers to.

A nasty worm of uneasiness started wiggling into my heart as I walked. I stopped myself several times from looking over my shoulder and checking to see if someone was following me. I was definitely on the road to becoming a schizo. I guess freaky old ladies, terrifying dreams, and a little time travel will do that to a girl. My heart, the traitor that it was, tripled its already frantic beat, and I picked up my pace accordingly.

I turned a corner only to find 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 my nape to stand on end. I swung around to face whatever attack was coming, but there wasn’t anyone nearby. The shadows and fog were a huge disadvantage, but at least that disadvantage went both ways. Or so I thought.

A gust of wind whipped my hair into my face as something flew past me and nearly knocked me off my feet. I sucked in a breath when a stinging sensation drew my eye quickly down to a cut on my arm. Another raspy chuckle, closer by this time, sounded in the fog. The next blow came much faster and much harder. I cried out as I was slammed into the brick wall and cut deeper, this time on my thigh. It hurt like a mother. I scrambled 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 her head and she went sprawling on her ass a little ways from me. Obviously she wasn’t expecting “one so young” to pack a nasty punch. I scrambled to my feet and sprinted towards the alley opening. 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 and struggled to get free--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. Her silky blond hair and perfect lips were only marred by freakish red eyes filled with an inhuman rage that fuels the stuff nightmares are made of. My head snapped back from the force of her slap and my vision dimmed dangerously. Unconsciousness would have been a welcomed relief.

“I could have made this relatively quick, but now that you’ve angered me, well...I’m going to take my time and enjoy your terror as you die,” she hissed. I focused on her face, willing myself to stay conscious long enough to give her the one-finger-salute.

But then I caught a glimpse of her fangs and my terror quadrupled causing my heart to nearly thump out of my chest. That, no doubt, would make her very happy. A terrible grin spread over her lovely face. Her fangs flashed as she lunged for the wildly thumping vein at my neck. I opened my mouth to let out the bloodcurdling scream that had built in my throat when I felt the air around me stretch and arc. The air felt slightly flexible and my fingers twitched to bend it to my will.

I glanced up at the vampire on top of me, her fangs only inches from my neck and her face frozen in shock. I jerked back, causing the pliable air around me to snap back into my body. I grunted and tried in vain to dodge the attack. Whatever miniscule advantage I had the second before, ended when the vampire snapped out of her frozen state and plunged her fangs into my neck.

I felt the monster being jerked off of me and heard an inhuman screeching sound followed by a profound silence, but I still couldn’t summon the strength to open my eyes. My body felt weightless as someone picked me up off of the concrete. What happened next was a blur, but I vaguely recall being supported by strong arms as I threw up next to a building. I moaned and cracked my eyes open when a jolting movement stirred me. A 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 a masculine voice ask me, “Have I said something funny, miss?”

Miss. Everyone was calling me “miss” now. Everything was sooo far from okay, I mused.
Witches, vampires, and time travel, Oh my!
I giggled again and looked up into a pair of lovely green eyes that were 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 saw my hand caked in blood and dirt and God knows what else. This time I let the darkness claim me, and I didn’t fight it one iota.

Chapter Three

Why oh why wouldn’t the pounding in my head cease? The inside of my mouth felt like sand paper and my eyes weren’t doing much better since I had been trying to pry them open for several minutes. When they finally cracked open, I blinked in surprise. I was in a plain but clean room that held a wardrobe, a wash stand, a dresser and full-length mirror. A single chair and bedside table were near my small bed, and I was covered with a lovely handmade blue and white granny square quilt.

When I was finally lucid enough to notice, I saw that I was dressed in a clean white cotton night gown and my neck and arm were bandaged. My lip felt busted, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to see how I looked. I groaned out loud as the memories of my attack came rushing back. I closed my eyes tightly and tried unsuccessfully to staunch the flow of events that came rushing back like an unwelcome storm. Had I really been cursed, traveled through time, AND been attacked by a vampire? If my injuries were any indication, then yes, yes it was all very real.

My eyes started stinging and I blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. I couldn’t have a breakdown just yet. What was I going to do? Could I ever get back to my own time? Was it even possible?

The door creaked open and I hastily wiped my eyes. A young woman in a crisp white shirt and long blue skirt came in carrying a tray. She squeaked and the contents of the tray she carried rattled precariously.

“Ah, you're finally awake.” She settled a hand over her heart. “You had us all just about worried to death showing up here all bloodied and then sleeping close to two days straight,” she said as she sat the tray on the bedside table.

“TWO full days?” I gasped. “It’s been that long?”

“It has, and poor Travis has been worrying himself sick, wondering if you’d be all right.” She wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something rotten. Her average nose was set on a lovely face sprinkled lightly with freckles. Her hair was light brown and piled high on her head in a loose bun. She may have seemed a little mousey at first glance, but her intelligent gray eyes made her very lovely indeed.

“Travis? Who’s Travis and exactly where am I?”

She poured a cup of tea as she answered me. “Travis is an instructor here, and he’s the one who carried you all the way here after you were attacked. As to the where we are; well, you are now an unofficial resident of Howell Home.”

Okay, so Travis was the green-eyed mystery man. Oh God, I hope I hadn’t called him beautiful out loud when I was semi-conscious. And what the heck was Howell Home?

“Sugar or milk in your tea?” My new companion asked.

“Just sugar please.” Although I’d have preferred a nice strong latte right about then. Screw that--a bottle of Jack maybe. “And you are?” I asked her.

“Oh. My name’s Phoebe,” she smiled shyly and held the cup of tea out to me.

“Nice to meet you, my name’s Sage, Sage Hannigan,” I told her as I took the delicate tea cup.

“Very pleased to meet you, Miss Hannigan. I’m going to go and fetch you something to eat and let Mrs. Howell know you’re finally awake. I’m sure she has many questions for you."

I’m sure she does, I thought. My stomach knotted with apprehension.

No sooner had I finished my tea, and a small whirlwind of a woman blew into the room. I don’t know what I expected the owner of Howell Home to look like, but this petite blond-haired woman with piercing blue eyes was not it. She couldn’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six years old, although it was hard to tell with the small spectacles perched on her nose.

“Please close your mouth.” she snapped. “It’s impolite to have your mouth flapping open like a fish trying to get air.”

My mouth closed with an audible snap, and I bit back a smart-assed retort. Instead I fixed a scowl on my face and crossed my arms, hoping I came off as nonchalant. I’m pretty certain lying in bed, wearing ruffles, and sporting bandages ruined the effect though. I sighed.

“Phoebe told me your name is Sage Hannigan,” she commented. I nodded my head. “And may I presume, Miss Hannigan, that you have no idea what you are or what is going on?” she asked with a delicately raised brow.

“What I
am
? What do you mean...what I
am
?” I asked in utter confusion.

“It’s just as I thought,” she murmured mostly to herself. “With everything that’s going on, I get someone who doesn’t even know her own powers.” She scowled at the ceiling.