Time Thief (The Anomaly Trilogy) (7 page)

Pleasure was a hard hit to his gut. She was so damned gorgeous—the perfect temptation. If he’d had to design his dream woman, Bay would be it. Strong, lean, compact with mesmerizing green eyes and a will of iron. The courage of the most battle-hardened SEAL.

The tight clasp of her sent hot sensation shooting through him. It knotted at the base of his spine and he knew the slippery fall into oblivion was coming.

As her nails cut into his shoulders, she thrust her hips back against him. Not just welcoming him, but needing more.

He gripped her buttocks and backed up. His back hit the wall of glass, Bay held tight against him. She knew what he wanted and started to ride him. A fast up and down drag that made every muscle in his body clench tight.

Then his release slammed into him. He roared, gripping her close, feeling her body clenching around him. She shook as her own orgasm took her over the edge.

When he could think, they were once again slumped on the shower floor. Bay was wrapped around him, her head resting on his shoulder. He liked the weight of her. Could get used to her resting on him.

The water was cooling. He reached up and shut it off.

Bay didn’t move.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. Time to dry off.”

“Can’t move.”

Her mumble made him smile. Getting a firmer grip on her, he stood. Once out of the shower, he set her on her feet and grabbed a towel off the rack. Starting at her feet, he gently dried her skin. He skimmed up trim calves, dipping behind her knees. She drew in a quick breath and pressed a hand to his arm. He travelled up her toned thighs, drying every drop of water he found. When he slipped the thick terry into the juncture of her legs, protected by a triangle of pale hair, she gripped his wrist.

“I can finish off.”

He looked up into her slumberous eyes. “I know you can, but I’d like to do it.”

She stared at him for a moment. She looked so young. Then her hand fell away.

He moved upward, caressing her flawless skin. As he moved over her breasts, her breath hitched.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she said.

“That’s the plan.” He rubbed the towel over her damp hair. “I think I could be a happy man finding all the ways to drive you crazy.”

There was that hint of vulnerability before she looked at the floor. “No one’s dried me off since I was a little girl.”

He picked up a brush from beside the sink. “Turn around.”

She did and he started working the brush through the long strands. He looked at the contrast of his hand against her skin. His was darker, scarred, hers was smooth and fair.

He kept his strokes steady, working through the tangles. “Thank you.”

She tilted her head. “For what?”

“For pulling me back from the edge.” He knew without her, he might have drowned. Leaped into the yawning abyss of his pain.

She turned, her hands pressing against his chest. “I’d say it was a great sacrifice—” she leaned closer and pressed a kiss over his heart “—but I’d be lying. I loved being with you.”

He tugged her close and pressed his chin to her hair. He wished they could stay like this. Locked away together in a little world far removed from the existence they were both trying to escape.

But already he felt the tug of reality. The blood, death and hatred were seeping back in. Revenge again beat in his heart.

As though she sensed it, she sighed and pulled back. “You hungry?”

He was surprised to find he was. “I could eat.”

“Why don’t we attack that food our host left?” She wrapped a towel around her slim curves.

Sean fought the urge to rip the offending fabric away.

She looked over her shoulder. “And you can tell me what we’re going to steal next.”

He watched her leave. As soon as she was gone, he felt very alone.

He pressed his hands to the sink, staring into the mirror. The burn of retribution once again pounded inside him—twisted with wild rage and grief. Holding her had chased it away, given him respite, if only for a brief moment.

He gripped the ceramic until his fingers turned white. For a second, he was tempted to take her and run. Find that beach she dreamed about, lie on the sand and hold her tight.

With a shake of his head, he reached for a towel. What was he thinking? Giving up his chance of vengeance for a woman.

Especially when the woman would never, ever let anything get in the way of her revenge.

Chapter Seven

“We’re going to steal some old, dusty book?”

Sean found himself fascinated at the way Bay’s forehead creased. He suspected it was a common expression for her. He wondered what she’d look like with a genuine smile on her face or if she ever truly laughed.

“It’s more than that. It’s the original manuscript of a book called The Liber Legis. The Book of the Law. It was written by Crowley.”

Bay reached over to the plate resting between them on the bed and plucked up a grape. “Crowley again?”

“The occultist believed in doing what he wanted, ignoring moral constraints. Even started a religion based on the belief.”

“God,” she whispered. “Sounds just like Leven.”

“Do you know much about Leven’s past?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never been able to find anything on him.”

Sean nodded. “He’s hidden it deep, but before I…entered his employ, I had a friend with some hacking skills do a search.”

Bay shifted, her gaze focused on him. “And?”

“He was born John Gabriel Brown in a small town in Kansas.”

“Kansas?” She shook her head. “Wouldn’t have guessed that.”

Sean paused, uncertain how much he should tell her. “My friend found hospital records.”

She blinked. “Hospital records?”

“From age four Leven suffered a broken arm, broken ribs, infected wounds from being chained and severe acid burns.”

Bay sucked in a breath.

“When Leven was ten, his father strangled his mother to death. In front of Leven.”

“God.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I don’t want to hear any more.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Not all abused kids turn into sadistic maniacs.”

“I’m not defending him.” Sean watched the conflicted emotions on her face. “After his father went to prison, John Brown disappeared…six years later, Gabriel Leven emerged on the Chicago criminal scene.”

“Just stop.”

“Look, I wanted to tell you so you understand his obsession with Crowley. Leven abides by no one’s rules but his own.”

Bay lifted her chin. “Just tell me more about the book.”

“Leven paid a small fortune for it in a private sale. It’s like his Bible.” Sean remembered the way the guy talked about it. Quoted from it. Creepy. “Crowley claimed a being called Aiwass dictated the book to him in Egypt. It’s filled with cryptic text but Leven believes that Aiwass was a time thief.”

She sat up. “And the book contains information on thieves?”

“Yes.”

“We have to destroy it. Where does he keep it?” She’d forgotten about the grape caught between her fingers. “Locked in a vault somewhere?”

“Nope. It’s here in Colorado.” Sean pressed the fruit to her mouth. “In his mountain cabin.”

She chewed, her eyes shimmering. “Not even locked away?”

“Don’t get too excited. The cabin’s well-protected. And cabin doesn’t do the sprawling mansion any justice. Cameras, dogs, high-tech security system and guards. It won’t be easy to get in.” Sean helped himself to a cracker.

Her smile was blinding. “It will be if you can steal time.”

He smiled back and fingered her hair. “How could I have forgotten about that handy talent of yours?”

Her smile dissolved away. “I’m sure you’ll never forget what I can do.”

No.
That ability had ruined his life, shattered his soul. His hand fell away. He wouldn’t ever forget.

She dropped her gaze, her body stiff. “You think I’m a monster.”

Way to go, Archer.
“Bay, I don’t think—”

“Sometimes I do.”

Her whispered words cracked something inside him. “You’ve made me realize there are good and bad time thieves, just like there are good and bad people.”

“If I didn’t have this damn ability…curse…my family would be alive.”

“Hey.” He forced her chin up. “Their deaths are on Leven, no one else. Wishing you could be someone you’re not…it won’t change anything.”

There was a wealth of pain behind her eyes. He wanted to pull her close, hold the world away from her. He doubted she’d accept comfort from anyone.

Maybe distraction would work. “When did you first learn you could steal time?”

She settled back against the pillows. “Thirteen. Seems the ability doesn’t manifest until you hit puberty.” She gave a little laugh. “Like teenagers don’t have enough to deal with.”

“Must have been a shock.”

Another laugh. He was happy to see the line on her forehead melt away.

“Yeah, I was arguing with my mother when it first happened.” Bay shook her head. “Shock doesn’t come close to what I went through. I freaked out.”

“Understandable.”

“A mutated gene causes the ability.”

“Yeah, that’s what Leven said. You told your parents?”

“Eventually. After I stole time at Cindy Hilty’s birthday party. Cindy was a perky little blonde and she was flirting with Stevie Allen. I had a major crush on ol’ Stevie.” A fond smile flashed. “She still doesn’t know how she ended up spilling cola down her pretty party dress.”

“How’d your parents react?” Sean tried to imagine his parents dealing with such a confession. They were fourth generation farmers settled happily on their land in Wisconsin. They probably wouldn’t deal well with supernatural powers, but they’d come to see him in the hospital after he’d returned from Afghanistan. They’d wanted him to come home to recuperate.

Maybe he should have given them a chance to help him.

Bay shifted on the pillows. “They were great. After some initial disbelief, they dealt with it. They didn’t ignore it, instead they taught me not to take advantage of my skill.” She looked past Sean, lost in her memories. “Taught me responsibility.”

She’d been lucky. “Bet they’d be proud of you.”

She brushed her hair back. “I don’t know about that. They told me never to tell anyone what I could do.” Her voice cracked. “But at fifteen, I wanted to impress a boy. Because of that, Leven found me.”

And she’d lost everything.

Sean pressed his hand over hers. “Leven’s fault, not yours. And I think your parents would be pleased to know you haven’t sold your ability to the highest bidder.”

“Maybe. There’ve been times that would have been easier.”

“Had to be tough for a teen on the run.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I survived doing whatever I could. Never stayed anywhere too long, took cash jobs.” A bitter smile. “I’m a hell of waitress.”

“I’ll bet.” She struck him as someone who’d work to be the best at whatever she did.

“Once I saved enough, I became a hell of a stock trader. Now I don’t have to work so much.”

Smart and resourceful. His type of woman.

“Enough questions about me,” she said. “What about Commander Sean Archer?”

He spread his hands wide. “What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from?”

“Wisconsin.”

“How’d you end up in the Navy?”

“Didn’t want to be a farmer. Fighting for my country sounded much more noble.”

She paused, toyed with the edge of a pillowcase. Then her green gaze hit him hard. “Will you tell me about your team?”

Sean was on his feet before he realized. He paced across the room, feeling as though the walls were closing in on him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He didn’t want to talk about them. It felt like ripping the scab off a poorly healed wound. He hadn’t talked about any of his friends since their funerals.

But how was it honoring them to ignore their memories, their sacrifice, just because it hurt him to say their names?

“McNeil was my best friend. He was the toughest son of a bitch I knew.” Sean clutched his watch.

“You miss him.”

“Every day. He had the driest sense of humor and the biggest sense of honor. Chris Butler was the youngest. Still had that idealist shine. We were working on ridding him of it.” Yep, it hurt. Remembering the times they’d laughed together, giving each other hell about women, work or life in general. “Rick Sanchez was a slow-talking Texan. He was a hell of a shot.” Sean closed his eyes, letting the words flow. “He was always talking about his wife Tessa and their three kids. He was a great dad. And Lucas “Lucky Last” Romano always brought up the rear. Was dependable as a Swiss watch although he liked everyone to believe he left things up to Lady Luck.”

But Lady Luck caught up with him in the end.

Sean continued talking, sharing stories about the guys, watching the smile on Bay’s face. He moved back to the bed and sat, his thigh brushing against her slim leg. Talking about the guys hurt like hell, but he was surprised to find it was a good hurt. It was good to remember them.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you lost them.”

He pressed his head against hers. “Me, too. I’ll make Leven pay for it.”

“
We
will. Starting with burning his precious manuscript.”

Sean nodded. “We’ll head up to the cabin tomorrow. Matt’ll loan us his truck. It’s about two hours from here. Best to go in at sunset so we can escape in the dark.” The familiar burn charged through Sean’s blood.

“We’ll do recon first. Find out how many guards, dogs, entrances and exits.” Her body tensed, preparing for battle. “Then I’ll steal time.”

“How long can you hold it?”

She shrugged. “It varies. Depends on how relaxed I am.” She gave a rueful smile. “And you can’t measure time while it’s stopped.”

His lips quirked in response. “I guess.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth before jerking over his shoulder. “Do you know where he keeps the book?”

“Could be in two locations. Upstairs in his private office or on display in the great room downstairs. His guards told me he changes it depending on his mood.”