Dragon Romance: Dragon Fire (Paranormal Shapeshifter Hero Protector Firefighter Romance) (Fantasy Shifter Werewolf BBW Pregnancy Women’s Fiction Short Stories) (12 page)

She sits her laptop on her desk and turns it on. Moments later she is looking through the pictures that she took of the Astara camp. The first few are of the market square. They show different vendors and their wares. Next comes a photograph of a small Astara girl with orange hair holding up a doll of some kind that her mom had just bought for her. Jamie smiles at the memory. The little girl had been fascinated with her camera and wanted to know what it did. When Jamie showed her how it worked and that you could look at the pictures it took, the little girl had begged for her to take her picture. The little girl was so overjoyed with having her picture taken that Jamie had used her portable printer to print out the picture. When she gave it to the little girl she had been beside herself with joy.

Jamie scrolls down on the computer screen. The next picture makes her stop and stare for a full five minutes. It is a picture of Bol standing outside of his home. As she looks over his smiling face and his golden eyes a tear runs down her cheek. Reaching out a hand, she gently strokes his face on the computer screen.

“I shouldn’t have left you.” She whispers. “Why did I leave you?”

In her head she hears his voice telling her to not forget him, but even louder she hears a voice telling her to go back to him. The louder voice is her own, and for the first time in a long time she decides to take its advice. In a few moments she is dressed and ready to go. She gathers up what things are hers and scrawls a hasty note on a piece of paper. Laying the note, her findings, and the equipment that was Larry’s on the table, she takes a final look around the room.

The lobby of the hotel is quiet as she slips out the door and heads up the street. The camp is a couple miles outside of town, but in her mind she can already see the walls.

“I’m coming Bol,” she tells the night as she hitches her bag to a more comfortable position in her hand.

*****

Larry tries to call Jamie a few times the next morning, but he can’t wake her. He decides that she is probably sleeping in with the phone off the hook, so he goes up to her room and knocks on the door. The door swings open with his first knock. He steps inside and looks around the room, but Jamie is nowhere to be found.

“Jamie? Are you here?” He asks, but then he spots the equipment and stack of papers on the desk. Walking over to the desk he looks at the papers and notices the note on top. A smile breaks across his face as he reads it.

Dear Larry,

You’ve been a great boss and for that I want to thank you so much. I left your equipment on the table. The papers you will find under this note are all of my detailed findings. If you would give them to Professor Charles L. Langston of Boston, Mass. Tell him who they are from and he’ll understand. I hate to leave this way, but during my stay in the Astara camp I met a man. I believe I told you about him. Bol is his name. I fell in love with him Larry. I tried to deny it, but I know in my heart that there is no other for me and I can’t begin to think about living the rest of my life without him. I’m going to live with him, so please don’t try and stop me. Who knows, maybe if Charles writes a few good papers we might see each other again someday.

Jamie Gettner

“I’ll be damned.” Larry puts the note down and rifles through the papers. The words and notations mean little to him, but he is sure that the professor Jamie mentioned in her note will know what how to decipher them. Walking to the window that looks out toward the camp, he smiles. “I hope you’re happy Jamie. I really do.”

*****

The guard doesn’t protest when Jamie tells him that she is back for more research. The hundred and eighty dollars, all the money that she has in her wallet, doesn’t hurt in his decision. As the gate closes behind her she breathes a sigh of relief. She looks around the square for anyone, but this late at night everyone is either at home or at one of the few drinking establishments.

As she starts across the square in the direction a Bol’s home a deep voice speaks to her from the shadows. She stops in her tracks and a smile spreads across her face. She would know the sound of that voice anywhere.

“Is it really you?”

“It’s really me.”

Bol steps out of the darkness and wraps her in a hug with his powerful arms. Tears stream from her eyes as she hugs him back as tightly as she can.

“I’m not leaving again.” She whispers into his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have ever left.”

“That doesn’t matter now,” he says. “All that matters is that you are here in my arms. Where you belong.”

THE END

Bonus Story 3 of 20

The drunk guy next to me leaned over to blow his beer-laced question in my face. “So who do you think’ll win, huh? Nets or Celtics?”

I scrunched up my nose and leaned away slightly while he wobbled in his seat. He had a leathery face from many days working out in the sun. His eyes were an unfocused soupy green color and pointed in my general direction. He wore a black trench coat over a blue work shirt and jeans. His muddy boots kept slipping from the ledge under the bar. I chuckled and then pointed to the flat screen directly in front of us, hanging over the bar.

“The Nets man. All day,” I said. A few New Yorkers within earshot cheered, and the drunk guy grinned.

“Nah. So what they’re up this quarter, all the Celtics have to do is catch up in the last two minutes and they’ve got this,” the guy said, slurring his words. The Brooklyn crowd at the bar heard him, and he got booed and pelted with peanuts. I chuckled again.

“They’re going to catch up twenty points in two minutes?” I said. “Not a chance.”

“I got a huge bet ridin’ on this, I can’t afford to lose it,” said the drunk. I shook my head apologetically.

“You shouldn’t have bet on the Celtics man. The
Celtics
? Really?” I said in disbelief. The guy groaned while he gulped down the rest of his fifth beer.

“Guy is gonna get iced,” the man on my left said with a laugh. I patted the drunk on his back.

“I suggest you start running now guy, maybe you’ll be able to hide from your bookie,” I suggested. The drunk guy looked up with wide eyes that were surprisingly alert and he slapped two twenties on the bar top before he bolted out of the door. Three seconds later three huge guys ran out after him. Half the bar was loud with laughter.

I snorted and then paid attention to the screen once more as I brought the bottle of lager to my lips. Got to love this city, there was a never ending supply of entertainment if you knew where to look. With the life I had, I’d just about seen it all.

I’ve been nearly everywhere on the globe, but had no frequent flier miles to show for my kind of travel. I had the ability to teleport. Create my own wormholes and jump through them to any point on the globe. Often the cracks I created in space and time close right up after I travel through, but sometimes I create large pathways that lead not only to a different place, but a different time. I’ve sometimes gone full years back and forward in time; it was wild. Of course I used my gift with as pure intentions as possible. After I set myself up financially I only jump for largely recreational reasons or if I see that someone truly needs help. Like the drunk guy who made the wrong bet.

I haven’t done a good Samaritan act for the week yet, so I figured I’d let him get his beating and then jump back in time to stop him from at least making the
wrong
bet. He left his wallet in his seat before he bolted from the bar and as I looked through it I found his address. It wouldn’t be difficult to fix that guy’s mistake. I’d leave a note on his refrigerator telling him to bet on the Nets or don’t bet at all. I sat and watched the rest of the game and celebrated with the bar as the owner came out and bought every patron a beer when the Nets won.

I left the bar and stepped out into the cold New York night. The city was never quiet that was for sure. I walked around to the side of the building and leaned against the brick façade as I pulled a cigarette and lighter out of my pocket. I lit the cigarette and inhaled the bittersweet taste of tobacco smoke. I watched people walk by on the busy sidewalks as I savored my cigarette. I only allowed myself one per week to keep the cravings at bay.

As I blew out a plume of smoke I caught sight of a shock of red hair. She stood out, like in one of those cheesy romance films; caught under the moonlight all ethereal in her pale-faced beauty as the background melted into indistinct watercolors. She had a small smile on her lips as she walked along the sidewalk, seemingly lost in a sweet memory. She wore a long red pea coat and had a cream colored scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. One strong winter wind and the thing would fly away. Then, as if I had summoned it, a sudden cold breeze swept the scarf from her shoulders and blew it into the empty street. She looked up, her bright blue eyes startled and she went after it. Even I stepped forward to help her get the scarf. Because hell, I needed to find out who she was.

Before I could step out into the street I saw the huge semi turn the corner. It was going just as fast any other city driver, and the woman had no chance to get out of the way. I froze and watched the macabre scene in slow motion.  She skipped out into the middle of the road and bent to pick up her scarf and looked up just in time to see the grill of the semi before it slammed into her, sent her flying twenty feet into the air before she landed on the street with a thud. All traffic stopped. The entire block stopped all movement as everyone looked at the horrible scene and took it in. After the two seconds of tense silence, people started screaming and yelling at the driver who wasn’t paying attention to the road.

I could faintly hear the sound of sirens and that’s when my body burst into motion. I could save her; I
would
save her. I’d simply go back and stop her from ever stepping out onto the road. I’d change her future for the better. I ran over to her fallen, broken body. I moved faster than the other bystanders and was by her side in the blink of an eye. I wasn’t aware of having jumped the space until I was holding her head in my lap. She was still alive, but just barely.

“Wh-what’s your name?” I asked her, and her eyes fluttered open. She looked at me as if she knew she was dying and was resigned to her fate. I had to jump back before she actually died or I’d change things too drastically, and only disasters would amount from that. The woman’s body was twisted at an extremely odd angle and before she answered she coughed up blood and it trickled down her chin.

“Melina…” she whispered. I nodded and then gently laid her down on the ground once more.

“I’m going to save you Melina,” I said before I ran and disappeared into the crowd that was forming around her. I sprinted to a nearby alley and then took several deep breaths before I held out my palm and summoned the familiar resonating power that started with my pulse and quickened into a sort of magnetic pull. The air in front of me wavered as if vapor was rising from the cold ground. The familiar thundering sound echoed through the alley as the wrinkle in space gained too much energy and ripped through time to create a pathway into the past. The thunder sounded once more and I felt the air charge as a flash of lightning nearly touched down right next to me. That was my cue to step through. I took a step, and was sucked into the other side of the rip I had created.

*****

Three Weeks Before…

The bright sun pierced my eyes and I squinted as I let my body recover from the jarring feeling of being sucked through a really narrow tunnel. I took a few deep breaths to stretch my lungs and then opened my eyes. I was back in the alley I hid in to jump back. I looked up and saw the sun directly overhead. I knew it was midday. I needed to know the exact time and date. I hadn’t been focusing and I didn’t time how long I let the rip in created charge up. The longer the charge, the farther back or forward I jump. It was an inexact measure but I was much better now at it than I had been in the past.

It was still cold so I couldn’t have gone that far back. I jogged up to the street and rounded the corner. The sports bar was just opening. One of the bartenders was wiping down the storefront outside. I walked up to him and smiled politely.

“Hey, can you tell me the time and date?” I asked him plainly and he glanced at me before he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Yeah it’s noon on the dot, November eleventh.” The bartender went back to wiping down the glass and I wondered how I would ask him the year without freaking him out.

“Hey uh, you guys gonna show the Nets—Celtic game here?” I asked innocently enough and the bartender looked at me as if I was stupid.

“Of course we are man. We’re in the heart of Brooklyn. But that game is like three weeks away. What, did you place a bet on it or something? My boss don’t like to have bookies in the bar.”

I held my hands up innocently. I said, “Just wondering is all. You have a nice day.” I nodded my head to him before I walked off down the street. Great, how was I going to find Melina in a city as huge as this one with nothing but her first name? It wasn’t like I could jump forward again because I might overshoot and she could be dead in that instance. I just had to wait it out and hope for the best. If worst came to worst, I’d simply camp out on that damn sidewalk and wait for her to happen by again. I sighed heavily. For the time being I would simply come by that spot where the accident took place every day around the time I saw her that night, and wait until I found her again.

I started walking towards the nearest subway. I had an apartment in the city for when I time jumped, so that I wouldn’t bump into myself, and I kept careful document of the times that I stayed in each one so I wouldn’t overlap.

I took the C train to Fourth Street and then caught a cab into Midtown, where my apartment building was. There I’d sync my phone with the date and time and I’d be able to regroup. Gathering that much energy to break through time wiped me out more than simple jumping through a shortcut in space did. I hardly remembered the doorman greeting me or the elevator ride up to the top floor. All I remembered was finally collapsing onto the soft couch cushions in my living room and knocking out.

* * *

When I opened my eyes the room was dark. I bolted upright and hurried into the kitchen to look at the time on the stove. I sighed with relief, as it was only six in the evening. I still had time to get to the bar in Brooklyn and wait for Melina to walk by. I shrugged off my coat and tossed it over the back of the couch. I went over to the clipboard on the fridge. My last visit was a month ago; there hadn’t been any recent entries so I was clear to stay.

I quickly showered and then dressed in a green turtleneck and jeans with a pair of brown boots. As I combed through my curly hair while in the closet I quickly changed the date and time on my phone. Since it was difficult to jump back considerable lengths of time in the past I usually kept it recent. I had houses and apartments all over the globe and only just thought to dedicate a few to when I time traveled. Especially after what happened that one time…I couldn’t chance messing with the whole butterfly effect thing too much. I checked myself in the mirror. My hair was the same shoulder length curly brown locks that they always were. My jaw just as square, brow just as intense. My nose had that familiar little crook in it from when I got into a bar fight in Istanbul.

I ran my hand over the day-old stubble on my jaw and chin and decided to shave the next day. I needed to find Melina.

*****

I didn’t go into the bar, I simply stood outside and leaned against the brick wall. My eyes met the face of every person that passed by and they were especially sensitive to any hint of fiery red hair. It was already nearing midnight and I was losing confidence that I would find her that way. Just as I was getting ready to turn tail and head home, I saw her. She was crossing the street and heading towards me. Her head was down so she didn’t notice me staring at her.

“Excuse me…is your name Melina?” I asked when she got close enough to hear me. Melina’s head snapped up and her eyes widened as if she recognized me. They were so much bluer up close.

“Yes…who are you?” she asked suspiciously, though her voice was beautiful and musical sounding. After all I
was
the stranger who knew her name and approached her on the street.

“I’m Caleb. We, ah, met briefly at the…” my mind moved at a thousand miles an hour as I tried like hell to think of a general venue where we could have met. Melina captured her bottom lip in between her teeth and she studied me a moment. I had become completely distracted by the small gesture.

“I think I’ve seen you before, yeah. You always get coffee at the bagel shop on Madison right?” my eyes widened. She was
right
. I always went to get bagels at O’s, they had the best damn lox in Manhattan.

“Yeah, yeah I do. You go all the way out to Madison for bagels?” I asked her and she smiled.

“I work at the Lincoln Center so I pass by it every morning on the way to work.” I rocked back on my heels as I slipped my hands into my pockets. I tried to appear causal.

“So what brings you all the way out to Brooklyn?” I asked her conversationally and she smirked.

“Visiting a friend, what about you?” I wondered if this
friend
was a guy.

“I’m kind of fond of this sports bar so I come here for a drink every so often,” I said, evasively. Melina nodded and she looked like she was getting ready to make up some excuse to leave. “Um, so I know you’re going to visit a friend and stuff. I’d really like to…maybe go out with you sometime?” I asked hopefully. Melina kept chewing on her lip and then she shrugged as if to say, ‘why not.’

“Sure, that would be great. Let me give you my number and then we can set something up,” I handed her my phone and she quickly programmed her number. I couldn’t believe this was already turning out to be an easy save. I must have jumped back to the past just in time before she died in the present. The cycle wouldn’t repeat itself, I could still save her! She handed me back my phone. She registered the glee in my eyes, and gave me a lopsided smile. She even had a dimple in her left cheek.