TimeShifter
Part I
By
Leela Atherton
Cover by Bookgraphics.net
Copyright © 2013 by Leela Atherton
Hi
Happy reading.
Leela
CHAPTER ONE
“He was brought in yesterday,” the policeman explained. “Beach Patrol weren’t sure what to do with him – not sure of his mental state – and he didn’t actually commit any crime.”
Chloe walked with him down the long corridor. ”Inspector Bennett said he was found naked on the beach in the middle of the night, is that right?” she enquired.
“Yeah,” the policeman, Vuyo, shook his head. “No ID, no shoes, clothes, nothing. And his fingerprints, so far, have come up clean.”
They had reached the single cell at the end of the corridor and Chloe focused her mind on the task ahead. The man was sitting on the cold concrete floor, leaning back against the grimy wall. He looked up as Chloe and Vuyo approached.
“We’ve brought someone to see you,” Vuyo’s voice sounded harsh, which surprised Chloe, as she knew him to be a kind man. “This lady is a counsellor, sent here to help you, so make sure you behave yourself.”
Chloe’s senses sharpened. The light in the cell was dim, but not dim enough to hide the harsh planes of the man’s face. She stared into his pale blue eyes and felt her professional mask slip – not just because of their strange and unusual colour, but because they were the coldest eyes she’d ever seen – and she’d seen plenty. She dragged her gaze away from him as Vuyo unlocked the gate.
“You want me to come inside with you?” he asked softly.
Chloe hesitated for a second; then shook her head. Speaking to suspects in front of the police was a waste of time. “No thanks Vuyo, I’ll be fine,” she said with more confidence than she felt.
The gate banged closed behind her and Vuyo turned his back on them, folding his arms and leaning back against the bars.
The cell was small and very basic. A single metal framed bed, covered with a scratchy brown blanket, was set against one wall, a stainless-steel toilet in the corner and a small barred window, which Chloe knew faced the barren courtyard of the police station. She shivered, this was not a pleasant place to be, and in spite of the warm African sun outside, she knew it would be cold in this miserable cell at night.
Chloe sat down on the edge of the bed and tried not to stare at the man sitting on the floor opposite her. He was wearing an off-white, cotton shirt and faded, baggy jeans, which someone must have dug out of the Lost Property box. His shirt was unbuttoned and though his knees were bent in front of him, she couldn’t help but notice the lean, hard muscles of his chest and stomach. Despite the ill-fitting clothes; with his smooth olive skin, thick dark hair and the harsh beauty of his face, he reminded Chloe of a male model straight out of a glossy magazine. His relaxed posture only added to the illusion, but as he stared back at her, through hooded, hard eyes, Chloe knew instinctively that the laid-back pose was just that – a pose.
“My name is Chloe Webster and I’m a counsellor here at Sea Point police station,” she managed to keep her voice steady as his strange, pale eyes moved over her – not missing a thing – from her fair hair scraped back in a pony tail to her over-sized shirt and combat pants. She always wore loose clothes when she visited the station, in fact she always wore baggy clothes full stop. The Chloe who once wore feminine short skirts and tight fitting jeans, seemed like a different person from a different lifetime.
Chloe forced her mind back to the present. “Can you tell me your name?”
He continued to stare at her, until she thought he was not going to answer at all, and then, finally, he spoke. “You can call me Zack.”
His voice was low with a gravelly edge to it that sent shivers down Chloe’s spine. “And your surname – Zack?”
There was another long silence, his eyes slid away from her, staring up at the barred window. ‘It doesn’t matter.”
Chloe let out a long, slow breath. Hoping that he couldn’t notice how tense and aware of him she actually was. But then his piercing eyes focused on her again and she knew in her bones that he noticed everything.
“Ok.” She shrugged. “Do you remember how you came to be found on the beach – without any clothes or possessions?’
“Not exactly,” he leaned his head back against the grubby wall, still watching her. “But that’s to be expected.”
She was trying to place his accent and for a moment didn’t register his cryptic reply. The accent was unusual, definitely not South African, perhaps American like herself; but if he was American his accent was more - Latino perhaps?
She brought her thoughts back to what he’d said. “You expected not to remember?”
“You’re not from this country are you?” he asked, ignoring her question.
As a prison counsellor Chloe was used to the inmates being curious about her, but she was experienced and professional enough to bring the conversation back to them. This, however, seemed different. It was almost as if he was interviewing – or assessing – her, like a bug under a microscope.
“No, I’m from the United States. How about you, where are you from?”
He smiled, it was not a friendly smile, but still, Chloe felt her insides twist and her body grow hot. His teeth were perfect and his mouth – cruel – seemed the only word to describe it.
“Another world,” he answered huskily, and Chloe knew that he knew the effect he was having on her.
Suddenly she wanted to run, get the hell out of this cell and away from him as fast as possible. This was crazy. He was probably crazy and yet she was losing all her professionalism and behaving like a blushing teenager. She’d been working at the prison, as well as this police station, for almost three years now and dealt with all kinds of hardened criminals, some of them extremely clever and manipulative, but none of them had ever left her feeling so - uneasy. She felt scared and yet excited at the same time. Longing to escape his dark presence, yet wanting to stay, to gaze at the ruthless beauty of his face and listen to his husky voice, until nothing else mattered.
She forced herself not to stand up and leave. Knowing that if she did - he and Vuyo - who was listening to every word, would know that she was completely out of her depth. It had taken her a long time and a lot of hard work to be taken seriously here and at Pollsmoor Prison and she wasn’t prepared to blow it now. So she forced herself to stay put.
“Do you have any friends here in Cape Town, Mr – Zack?” she asked. “Anyone who could bail you out while the police decide whether they’re going to lay any charges or not?”
He was staring back up at the window again. “I don’t need anyone to bail me out; I’ll be leaving soon enough.”
And Chloe realized she’d lost him
**********************************
Zack’s eyes followed the woman as she walked down the corridor, accompanied by the big, black cop. Even the baggy, masculine clothes couldn’t hide the grace of her movements and the slim, feminine lines beneath. His eyes burned into her back, drinking her in, until they turned the corner and she was gone. He could still smell her - in the cell – a floral, soapy fragrance mingled with her on unmistakable female scent.
He rubbed his hands over his face and then pushed them through his shaggy hair. God, he felt like hell, but he’d made it. There was no going back now, but he’d survived the journey and reached his destination – against all the odds. The only side effect seemed to be the overwhelming tiredness he felt. For normal humans it was not out of the ordinary to sleep eight, even ten hours a night, but he usually managed on two. So, having spent most of the time since his arrival sleeping wa
s goddamn frustrating. Just like the woman – she was also frustrating, and distracting – something he didn’t need right now. But his body had reacted instantly to her. Her eyes, her voice, her smell…
He’d never met anyone like her. Where he came from the women were either hardened soldiers, like himself, or older motherly figures, trying to make things more bearable for them – the soldiers. Whereas this woman – Chloe – was soft and feminine, with eyes the colour of warm honey and skin to match. What would it be like, he wondered, to be just a normal guy, in a normal world and able spend time alone with a woman like her…. Zack felt his stomach tighten and thrust the fantasy aside; it was not like him to moon over something he could never have, especially not now.
How long would it take to get back his full strength? One - two days? He couldn’t afford more than that. He had a mission to accomplish, or die trying. Right now the future of mankind was in his hands. That was all that mattered and there was no way he was going to allow a woman – no matter how enticing – to distract him from what he was here for. To kill a man and change the course of history.
*********************
“He attacked the two policemen while being escorted from the showers, Miss Chloe,” Vuyo was explaining in a tight, controlled voice, as they walked along the same corridor towards the cell the following day. “Broke Johan’s arm and almost strangled Sipho. Luckily Amos arrived with the pepper spray, otherwise I don’t know what would have happened.”
Chloe could tell that Vuyo was furious and a part of her felt sorry for the prisoner – the police did not take kindly to one of their own being attacked. And she had no doubt they’d be making sure Zack paid dearly for what had happened last night.
“We think he must be some kinda karate kid,” he continued, his face taut with suppressed anger. “Sipho said he moved like lightening, broke Johan’s arm like it was a twig.”
Chloe shook her head in sympathy, while her mind raced. How could he possibly have overpowered two policemen with his bare hands? A martial arts expert? Drugs? Whatever, he was going to suffer for it.
“Anyway, the doctor checked him out after,” Vuyo’s voice rose as they approached the cell. “Not a scratch or a bruise, says he’s in perfect health. And the drug test came up clean. Can you believe it?”
Chloe stared into the cell, her heart racing.
“Are you sure you wanna waste your time on this nutcase, Miss Chloe?” Vuyo spoke loudly, more for the prisoner’s benefit than for hers, but she nodded anyway. “I’ll have to cuff him first, and there’s no way I’m leaving you in the cell without me this time.”
****************************
Zack stood patiently while the policeman fitted the handcuffs too tightly round his wrists. He breathed in, absorbing her now familiar scent, before allowing his hungry eyes to rest on her. It bugged him to know that she was now probably afraid of him, saw him as some violent, brutal, psycho. But then, that wasn’t too far from the truth, was it?
Slowly he lifted his gaze to meet hers, expecting to see cold fear in her eyes, but her expression was one of concern and he felt his guts twist with an emotion he didn’t want to feel.
"How are you,” she asked in that soft, warm voice of hers.
He leaned back against the wall, keeping his expression blank. “Aren’t you going to sit down?”
Vuyo let out an aggressive grunt, but she ignored it and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She was wearing a dress today, probably in a rush to get here, and he allowed himself to take in every detail. The dress was a lilac colour and patterned with small pink flowers; as feminine as she was, and even though it covered her arms and legs, he could glimpse slim honey toned ankles.
“You look nice.” It was out before he realized it.
“You watch your mouth, you crazy piece of shit!” Vuyo ground out, his fists clenching and unclenching.
“Vuyo, it’s Ok,” she soothed; then turned back to him. “Zack, I don’t know if you realize it, but you’re in a lot of trouble.”
“I’ll be alright,” his gaze was intimate and he watched her cheeks flush with satisfaction. She was aware of him too, and he felt a kick of pleasure just knowing it.
He slid down onto the concrete floor opposite her, while the cop stood at the prison bars glaring at him. Zack ignored him; all his attention on the woman.
“Attacking police officers is a very serious offence,” she sounded genuinely concerned. “The police are checking with Interpol now to see if you’re wanted anywhere else. Are you on the run Zack?”
He smiled and shook his head.
She sighed and Zack understood her frustration, there was no way she could comprehend why he was here, how he’d come to be here and especially why he wasn’t worried about the predicament he was in. How could she know that he could leave this cell, this police station, anytime he liked. The only reason he’d stayed was because of the tiredness - and maybe to see her again…
“Zack,” she leaned forward, speaking softly. “Have you suffered from mental health problems in the past? Ever been on any kind of medication?”
Her warm honey eyes were gazing into his, and even though he wanted to laugh at her question, he didn’t. Instead he just allowed himself to enjoy the sweet pleasure of having her so close. If he reached out his hand he could touch her. It was a sore temptation, he would give almost anything to touch her, but besides the cop in the cell, he knew he would probably scare her. She already saw him as some kind of psycho; he didn’t want to make it worse.
“In my world I would not be seen as crazy, but in this world,” he shrugged. “Quite possibly.”
“Zack,” she glanced up at the cop and then back to him. “I think we should arrange a psychological assessment for you,” she paused, biting the underside of her full bottom lip. “How would you feel about that? It could help your case - I could possibly arrange it for tomorrow?”
Zack sighed inwardly, she really did think he was nuts, and there was nothing he could do about it. “Sure, if you think it’ll help, go ahead and book a shrink for me – maybe I am crazy.”
CHAPTER TWO
Chloe entered her small one bedroom apartment with a sigh of relief, kicking off her pumps and dropping her bag onto the sofa. Thank God it’s Friday, she told herself. All she wanted was a shower, food and some mindless TV to numb her wandering mind. It had been a long day, not that different from most of her working days, except that she’d hardly slept the night before, disturbed by thoughts and dreams of a dark, dangerous stranger with pale blue eyes. It was crazy to lose sleep over him, especially on a day when she counselled students at Sea View High School and needed her wits about her.
It was not like her to lose sleep over a man, no matter how disturbing that man may be. Since the – accident - her awareness of herself as a woman, a woman who could be attracted to a man, had been nil. She’d felt happier – safer – playing down her femininity, focusing on her work and keeping men at a distance, especially if they showed any interest in her.
So what was it about this dark stranger that had ignited feelings and emotions inside her that she didn’t even know existed? Sure he was attractive, but she’d met many men, inside and out of the prison walls, who were just as good looking; but none of them had stirred in her the slightest interest. Her life had changed when she was just eighteen, and she had the scars to prove it. She’d come to accept the person that she was, accepted that she was not capable of having a normal relationship with a man and she was comfortable with her lot. She didn’t want anything, or rather anyone, to upset the life she had built for herself. It could stir up that entire past trauma she’d painfully managed to lock away, and to make a life for herself.
Chloe closed her eyes and rolled her tired shoulders. She’d made an appointment for Zack to see the psychiatrist on Monday. Shahida, the psychiatrist, was a friend of hers, someone professional yet caring at the same time. She just hoped Shahida could make better progress than she ha
d. Whatever the outcome, she had to detach herself from the case and simply make sure she saw as little of the man as possible.
Feeling a little more positive now that her mind was made up, she walked from the compact lounge-cum- kitchen into her bedroom, pulling her long summer dress over her head and throwing it onto the bed. The weather was unusually hot for this time of year and it was a relief to feel the cool air against her skin. Her hands were above her head tugging the brush through her hair when she looked into the mirror and froze, her blood turning to ice.
“No!” She stared into those pale, stark eyes through the mirror and didn’t want to turn around; if she did she would have to acknowledge that he was really there – in her home – in her bedroom.
“Don’t panic Chloe, I’m not going to hurt you,” Zack said in his raspy voice and Chloe turned to run towards the bedroom door, adrenalin pounding through her veins. In a flash his arms were around her from behind, lifting her effortlessly into the air and dumping her on the bed.
“Godammit woman, I said, don’t panic!” His movements were too quick to be real. Even in her shock-ridden state; Chloe could feel his impossible strength and speed.
“Are you Ok?” he’d released her immediately, but Chloe could still feel the burning warmth of his hands on her body. He wasn’t even breathing hard, yet she was dragging air into her lungs like a drowning swimmer.
Her brain was slowly beginning to function and she knew that the main thing now was to keep calm and try to keep him calm. “What are you doing here, Zack?” She used his name deliberately shifting her trembling body slowly into a sitting position - no sudden movements. He did not seem to have a weapon, but she knew he was unnaturally strong – and fast.
“Put something on and then we’ll talk,” he said, reaching for her satin dressing gown hooked over the door, and tossing it at her.
It was only then that Chloe realized she was half naked. She grabbed the gown with shaking hands pushing them into the sleeves and knotting it at the waist, her wrist flicking the fabric over the long scar on her left upper leg. He must have seen it, but for once Chloe didn’t care. She straightened her back, weak with fear and unsure that her legs could hold her up if she tried to stand and face him. Shoving the fabric between her thighs, she stared at him, her heart thumping, while her mind raced. What next?