The Library of Time, page 6
“I was too young and stupid to see who you were. And you’re worse now.”
Jack grinned. “I’ve honed my skills. If you ever see your boyfriend again, give him my best. Bumbling fool, that guy.”
Jack gave her one last sneering smile before he left the house, slamming the door hard behind him. When the house shook, the candle fell, the flame catching the curtains on fire. Annie pushed herself up and hopped to the window, but there was nothing she could do to put it out. She watched the fire spread from the curtain to the chair in front of the window. Smoke billowed, making her choke as the toxic fumes filled the room. The couch was on fire now, and it was spreading fast.
Somehow, she managed to get to the door, but her screaming and shouting produced no one. Her neighbors were not at home. When she finally got the door open, which wasn’t easy with her hands tied behind her back, the cat streaked by her. Once outside, she hopped and crawled as far as she could away from the flames. The house was stoic about being burned, hardly a sound coming from it as it was engulfed in fire. Annie sat on the ground and watched her entire life go up in smoke, tears dripping down her face. Any history of her life was in that houses, boxes she’d carried with her since the death of her parents.
It was sometime later that she heard the shouts from the people from the village as they approached along the road. She was still sitting there, her house a burned-out hulk and the ones on either side not much better. The bushes were charred, and one of the small trees she’d planted was now bent over and blackened. Nothing was left.
“Annie!!!”
“I’m here!” Annie called from the shadows.
A second later Bethany was helping her up and untying the ropes around her ankles and wrists. “We saw the smoke. Who did this?”
“Jack.”
Bethany stared at her in shock as the others ran into the house trying to save whatever they could. “Where’s Sam?”
“I don’t know.” Now that her friend was with her, Annie’s tears came faster. Sam had not appeared, and as far as Jack, he and Elizabeth were more than likely long gone. Bethany held her while she cried.
Dan, the older gray-haired man who raised goats and sheep, arrived by her side a few minutes later. Her Tarot cards and a small box were held in his hands. “It was all that was left of your desk, Annie. I’m so sorry.”
“A few clothes and some kitchen items,” someone else yelled. It was Rosie who made soap and candles. “Did my candle cause this?” Her light- colored hair was frizzed about her face, her blue eyes wide with shock.
“It fell, Rosie, and with my hands tied I…”
Rosie burst into tears, her arms wrapping around Annie. “I feel terrible about this!”
“It’s not your fault,” Annie murmured. “It was Jack—when he slammed the door the candle fell. I was tied up by then.”
“Jack—that old boyfriend you told us about? What was he doing here?”
“Making trouble.”
“I’d say so,” Bethany muttered. “If you need a place to stay, you’re welcome in my shop. I have an extra bed upstairs.”
It was hours before the crowd dispersed, a pile of the things they saved lying next to her. Bethany was last to leave. “Come with me,” she urged, her arm going around Annie’s shoulders.
Annie shook her head. “I’ll go back to the library and wait for Sam.”
Bethany’s worried gaze met hers. “Are you sure? What if he’s still gone?”
Annie took in a breath and let it out slowly. “Then I’ll wait. Cecily will be there in the morning and I need to tell her what happened. In any case, I have to feed Wolf.”
Bethany gave her a hug before she hurried to catch up with the others making their way slowly along the weed-filled road.
After they’d passed into the shadows Annie turned to face her home. It still smoldered, the acrid stench and charred wood assaulting her nostrils. No more tears came as she searched through the small pile of clothing and kitchen things. She found an oversized shirt, laid it out and put everything on it before tying it up like a carrying bag.
Using her key, Annie opened the door into the library, hoping against hope that Sam would be there. But the place was dark and empty, the vibrations off. She found a candle and lit it with the matches on the shelf. Wolf was there, his welcoming whoof causing her tears to start up again. Serendipity had not appeared after the fire. She fed the dog and let him out, waiting until he came back before she placed the lit stub under glass and carried the holder up the stairs to Sam’s bedroom. She placed it carefully on the table next to the bed.
Except from the one time of drunkenness, she’d never been in his bedroom, until Sam had asked for his bag from upstairs. And that day she had not had the chance to look around.
Books lined the shelves above the bed, some dating back to the beginning of the country, and some from even earlier. She examined the stiff leather, the brittle paper, afraid to do much but stare at the worn covers in awe: Thomas Paine--Common Sense, Daniel Defoe-- Robinson Crusoe, Benjamin Franklin--Autobiography, Margaret Fuller--Woman in the Nineteenth Century, William Shakespeare—The Tempest, Christopher Columbus—Collected Letters. How had he gotten hold of these early books? It certainly beat out the books she’d managed to salvage from the landfills, with their paper half eaten away and moldy covers with holes in them.
The bed was unmade, the bedclothes tangled. It smelled of Elizabeth’s perfume. Annie ripped the bedding off and searched for clean linens. Sam was fastidious about such things. She found sheets in the top shelf of his wardrobe, and pulled them down. They were threadbare, but clean. Remaking the bed kept her from worrying, the simple task settling her nerves. She was too tired to do much after that as she removed her clothes, laid down and pulled the wool blanket up over her. Sleep came quickly, the days worries gone as she slipped into blankness.
Annie woke with a start. Light sifted from the skylight. It was barely dawn. She heard a snore, her entire body tensing as she turned to look at the other side of the bed. Sam lay face down on top of the blanket, his face and arms covered with scratches and cuts. His pants were ripped, his shirt too, and from what she could see there was bruising on his cheek and forehead. He looked like he’d been through a war.
CHAPTER 9
When Sam woke, his experience from the day before played across his mind. He kept his eyes closed—he did not want to live through it all again, but it was there and he had to deal with what had been an utter fiasco. He stayed prone and let out a sigh. The beast had risen, he knew that. He’d encouraged it. Jack. The man had told him things about Annie, his fury rising the more he listened. There was nothing he could do about it short of knocking the man senseless. They hadn’t made it to the railroad tracks before Jack started in, relaying their sex life in living color. “Shut up!” he’d shouted, but it did no good. Jack was getting off on it. And in that moment of inattention, Jack had managed his escape.
Jack had created a diversion, making it seem that he’d headed off down the railroad tracks on one of the sailing contraptions. Sam was still puzzling over that part of it, unsure what illusion the man had used. The next thing he knew he was running after the sails, all his attention on that alone. He’d felt drugged—out of his mind with the obsession of finding the man and putting an end to him. Fights ensued, fights with strangers, fights with people he took to be Jack. Not only had he been under a spell, he’d also turned into the feral part of himself, unable to contain his fury. He’d been handcuffed for a while, someone who held a position of authority taking control of the situation. And while he was subdued, he’d come back to his senses.
After being released he’d walked home, only pausing to see that Annie’s house was a smoldering mess. At that point he’d gotten a shot of adrenaline and raced the remaining distant to the library. He’d found her asleep in his bed, and then the exhaustion of being the beast and everything that came after had set in.
He let out a groan, realizing that he was fully dressed and that he probably had not budged since falling face down on the bed. He was sore all over.
“Sam?”
He raised himself to his elbows, his gaze going to Annie. She was looking at him worriedly. He didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Her camisole had slipped down, exposing the curve of her breast. He could do nothing but stare until she noticed and pulled it up to cover herself. And that’s when he remembered that this woman had just lost her home. “Your house, Annie. How?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Jack tied me up and a candle fell off the shelf. I couldn’t stop the fire.”
“That fucking bastard,” he muttered, pushing up to sitting. “Thank Gaia that you’re alive.”
Annie sat up next to him. “You look terrible.”
He let out a scoff and tried to put on the bravado that had served him so well, but instead, tears welled. Before he could do much about it, Annie wrapped her arms around him. And with that he let himself go. She held him as he sobbed into her shoulder, every bit of his pride gone as the pain took over. When his tears lessened, he pulled away to look at her again. Her eyes were misty and full of empathy, her mouth slightly open. “Annie,” he murmured, his hand going to her cheek.
“Jack is a weasel, Sam. He manages to get out of situations like no one I have ever known. Don’t blame yourself.”
Sam hung his head, feeling like a fool. “I have never been in this position with anyone. This is the second time, and I don’t know how the hell he did it.”
“I know,” she said, her fingers on his arm sending tingles through his body. “I’ve told you what he was like when we were together. I think now that I was under a spell, but how could that be? He’s not a wizard.”
“Maybe he is.”
Annie gazed at him. “If that’s true, what are you?”
Her skin was milky, her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her camisole. Despite his bruises and how sore he was, the hunger for her was rising. “I’m not a wizard.”
“You could have fooled me,” she murmured as she ran her fingers gently over one of the bruises on his face. She picked up the pendant around his neck. “What is this?” she asked.
“I’ve always had it…jade I think.”
“It’s definitely jade and an exquisite work of art. You don’t know where you got it?”
Sam was not in the mood to discuss his pendant, his entire focus on the sensations running through his body. “Can’t remember,” he murmured as he took her face in his hands and kissed her.
What happened after was like a dream. He barely recalled removing his clothes, or her fingers tracing the sigil on his shoulder, and holding his pendant in her hands before her look of wonder once he was naked. “You…” she murmured, “you’re so…”
He stopped her words with his mouth. Her camisole came off easily, as well as the rest of what she’d slept in, which wasn’t much. In the early morning light, her body was pale and translucent, like porcelain. He ran his hands over her shoulders, her waist, her hips. When he kissed her collarbones, her breasts, her belly, she arched upward against his mouth. And when he entered her, she cried out. His movements were slow at first, his mouth on hers, the delicious feel of her filling his senses. When he moved inside her, she moved with him, as though they were one being. He’d had many women over the centuries, but this…this was something else. Their bodies were like puzzle pieces that had finally found each other. He loved her with his hands, his mouth, his entire being seeking union. And she opened to him like a flower unfurling.
Afterward he could only stare at her, drinking her in as he came back from wherever he had been. Her fingers traced along his arm, along his jawline, her eyes soft. He smiled and pushed the damp hair back from her face, his lips brushing hers. It wasn’t long before he was ready again. And Annie made it quite clear that she wanted him a second time. He was still inside her when they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
“Sam?” Cecily’s voice echoed up the stairs, waking them from their much-needed slumber.
Annie sat up first, tapping Sam on the shoulder. He was already awake and not quite sure how to handle things. “Do we tell her or keep it a secret?” he whispered.
“She knows already—she’s very aware of what goes on here.”
“She knows about us?”
Annie laughed. “Believe me, she knew before we did. The entire village knows, Sam.”
Sam frowned before he let out a bellow that shook the windows, “What is it, Cecily?”
“Just making sure I wasn’t on my own here. Is Elizabeth gone?”
Sam pulled on his trousers and opened the door. “Just me and Annie up here!” he yelled. “We’ll be down in a minute.”
Annie giggled from the bed. “I feel like a naughty teenager.”
Sam turned. “Jack told me what you were like back then. I wanted to kill him.”
Annie blanched. “I’m sorry…”
Sam came toward her and wrapped his arms around her. “Not to worry. But I think I might have gone through with it if he hadn’t pulled the illusion he did.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Sam explained how he’d ended up running down the tracks, the fights and his subsequent return in the wee hours. “The man is an illusionist or he has magic. What do you know of him from the past?”
“Only that he managed to get away with stealing and he enticed people to do things that they never would have done. I have to say that I felt captivated and couldn’t seem to loosen his hold on me. I knew it was wrong, but every time he opened his mouth, he drew me to him like a bee to a flower.”
Sam nodded mutely, his gaze going to the quickly developing weather outside the window. The gusts tossed pebbles against the glass panes, followed by hail. “Where did this storm come from?” he muttered.
“Better finish dressing and get downstairs before Cecily ends up checking on us.” She gazed at the scattered clothing littering the floor. “Now where did my camisole go?”
Sam watched her bend to retrieve her under clothes. He was already rising to the occasion. “Better get some clothes on before I…”
Annie glanced up at him as she pulled the camisole over her head. “Before you what?” she asked innocently.
Sam stared at her. “I haven’t had a woman in twenty years,” he murmured.
Annie laughed. “Twenty years? That would make you what?…seven, eight years old?”
Sam flushed scarlet. “I meant…it feels like twenty years,” he stammered.
Annie smiled and continued dressing.
Cecily gave them a cursory glance as they arrived downstairs before returning to her desk. “Hot tea is in the jug and I made biscuits.” Once Annie and Sam helped themselves, Cecily motioned them over to her desk. “You need to see these old photos.”
Sam frowned and went to look.
“That’s Jack, right?” Cecily asked, pointing.
Sam squinted at the blurry photo from the late 1800’s. The book was a history dating back to the timeline Elizabeth had arrived from. The article dated September 1891, was from the London Evening Standard. Staring at the camera was a man with a mustache dressed in the clothing of the time, and beside him was Elizabeth.
Sam huffed out a grunt and turned to Annie behind him. “They made it back.”
Cecily turned the page and began to read. “Members of the Golden Dawn include Jack Torrance and Elizabeth Farr who, in spite of recent unfortunate events, are engaged to be married.”
“What events?” Annie asked.
“It seems that Elizabeth was married, but her husband recently died.”
“How recently?” Sam asked.
Cecily perused the page.“It doesn’t say. Back then it was scandalous to be engaged too quickly after a death. A year or more had to go by while the widow mourned. ”
Annie made a disgusted sound. “This is what he does. And no one will consider it anything but normal. I bet he killed her husband. Does it say how he died?”
“No.” Cecily read another passage. “The sudden engagement has shaken some members of the community, but many feel that Elizabeth’s first marriage to a much older man was ill-conceived to begin with. Mr. Torrance is a member in good standing and is moving up the ranks quickly. Because of this, the members of the Golden Dawn have united behind the news of the engagement. The wedding will take place at the building that houses the hermetic community and will be attended by everyone who belongs, as well as some prominent members of society.”
“Does it say when?” Annie asked.
Cecily scanned the page. “December 21st.”
“Does time move differently in the past? Because he just left and so much has already happened. How could he already be part of the Golden Dawn?”
“I was wondering that myself,” Cecily commented.
Sam was shaking with anger. He could feel the feral part of him taking him over, bit by bit. He had to get outside before he exploded. “I need to take a walk,” he ground out.
“Shall I join you?” Annie asked.
Sam shook his head. As soon as the door closed behind him Sam took off. Once he was at a safe distance, he let out a roar and began to run. This could not be happening. And yet it was. This escapade of Jack’s was bound to change the future. Everything Jack did in the past would make a difference. Anger propelled him toward the ocean, the wind and rain against his skin forcing that part of him out into the open. He let out another roar as he rushed toward the seething waves. He barely felt the cold as he plunged into the water and began to swim.
CHAPTER 10
Annie went to the window and watched Sam jog toward the flat gray expanse in the distance. The sky was dark with fast moving clouds, the beach filled with roiling waves with whitecaps. The rain from earlier was back. Sam was heading straight into the storm.
