[Through Time 02.0] Whiplash Read online

  Contents

  Through Time—Whiplash

  Books by Claudy Conn

  Copyright Page

  ~ Prelude ~

  ~ Prologue ~

  ~ One ~

  ~ Two ~

  ~ Three ~

  ~ Four ~

  ~ Five ~

  ~ Six ~

  ~ Seven ~

  ~ Eight ~

  ~ Nine ~

  ~ Ten ~

  ~ Eleven ~

  ~ Twelve ~

  ~ Thirteen ~

  ~ Fourteen ~

  ~ Fifteen ~

  ~ Sixteen ~

  ~ Seventeen ~

  ~ Eighteen ~

  ~ Nineteen ~

  ~ Epilogue ~

  Excerpt: Through Time—Slamming

  ~ One ~

  ~ Two ~

  About Claudy Conn

  Read more about Claudy Conn’s books

  Through Time—Whiplash

  Through Time—Whiplash

  By

  Claudy Conn

  Copyright Page

  Through Time—Whiplash

  By Claudy Conn

  http://www.claudyconn.com

  Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

  Edited by: Karen Babcock

  Cover Artist: Kendra Egert

  All rights reserved

  Published in the United States of America

  First edition, March 2013

  Second edition (in Through Time Series Box Set), March 2015

  Second edition (as single title), April 2015

  Excerpt of Through Time—Slamming

  Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

  Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  ~ Prelude ~

  AAIBHE, QUEEN OF the Seelie Fae, stood by her window overlooking the rose gardens of her palace on the Seelie Fae’s Isle of Tir.

  Morgan LeBlanc stood behind her, resting his chin on her fair head. She pressed back against him and whispered, “You must go.”

  He turned her to him and held her chin. “My love, I can’t tell you enough what you are to me, like one of those rare blooms in your garden, exotic and beyond description.” He frowned and asked, “And why must I go?”

  Sadness filled her mind, but when he touched her, he made her feel as though they could come through this together. She rubbed her head against him, torn by what she felt and what she knew she had to do.

  She could see he sensed her indecision as he whispered, “Let me stay, just a bit longer.”

  He was so easy to love.

  An exquisite warrior, noble of heart and character.

  She had not wanted to love him.

  Love brought loss, and loss brought such pain …

  He was the Milesian leader, and the Council would be horrified at such a union. The Queen of the Seelie Fae and the leader of the Milesians?

  All her world would be shocked into censuring her. How could she lead them through the dark times ahead if they did not trust her decision-making? And there would be dark times ahead.

  Indeed, but how could she deny herself? She had been too lonely too long, and he … was superb in every imaginable way.

  “You must go now,” she said softly.

  His answer was to embrace her and kiss her long and hard, growling when he came away from that kiss to say, “I leave for you, because you ask it, but I—we—shan’t be denied much longer.”

  He was upset, and he had a right, but they were from opposing forces politically. She had to be careful, as did he, though he denied it. He had told her that he and his son Chance would lead their people, no matter who they took as their lifelong mates. He had pointed out the Milesians were very pleased with Chance’s union with Princess Royce. So why not theirs?

  She had said, “Because I am a queen, and you are, in essence, their king.”

  She would have to be wise for them both. She smiled at him and touched his face. “I shall come to you as soon as I may.”

  “If you don’t, I will come for you—mark me in this, Aaibhe!”

  He was a dominant male, equal in strength to her, and was, she thought, just what she needed. Although her subjects loved her, and some even desired her, they were still her subjects who owed her deference and to whom she owed wise rulership. As a queen she knew and ably fulfilled her duties, but as a woman, at times she grew tired, so tired of forever leading, forever making decisions that affected her entire Realm as well as the Human Realm.

  She smiled when he growled and mumbled, and then he was gone.

  Aaibhe turned once more to contemplate without seeing the rare blooms he spoke of just outside her windows. They were like her feelings for Morgan—riotous, undeniably beautiful, and dangerous.

  She had not felt this way in well over a thousand years.

  The future, she knew, was edged in darkness. A rim of fire framed what she had seen, threatening not only her relationship with Morgan but all life, not only human life, which was forever at risk, but Seelie Fae life. She knew her Druid and Fios team would have to help her contain it once again; war seemed inevitable.

  She would need her best Royals, her best Druids, and their lives would most surely be forfeit for the slightest mistake.

  She had no way of knowing, no way of seeing the outcome.

  Her sight, which only gave glimpses of possible events, was just that, a glimpse here and there, with no definitive answers.

  Time travel, which had been denied to all other Fae in the last one hundred years and limited even to her, might have allowed her to go in and tweak events to better serve both the Fae and the Human Realms, but even that was not to be.

  Perhaps it had been the indiscriminate travel into time that had brought matters to such a pass?

  A knock sounded at her door, and she turned to welcome one of her youngest warrior princes, Trevor.

  He bowed his head and then respectfully stood, tall, erect, muscular, and more a warrior today than he had been only a few weeks ago. His flaxen hair fell about in loose curls to his shoulders, and as he raised his head, their eyes met.

  She could see he was still angry.

  He looked so very much like his older brother, Danté, she thought as she stared into his deep golden eyes, but he was different, so very different. He still had to grow and learn.

  Discontent glinted in the recesses of his Seelie eyes, but something else lay in their recesses, a sadness that went deep.

  Trevor of Lugh must not be allowed to fall into bitterness, she thought. Pampering him wasn’t something she had the time to do any longer, nor could she waste any time teaching him what eventually he would learn. He was going to have to absorb everything he needed to know in one quick lesson.

  “Trevor, sit with me.” She waved one elegant hand towards a high-backed chair, sat first, and waited.

  He hesitated but did what she asked. She could see he didn’t want to. She could see he wasn’t just angry but discontented.

  “Tell me,” she said, “why you are not satisfied with the results of your mission. After all, Pestale has been stopped, and in a manner of speaking he is being punished—denied all he had strived to accomplish.”

  “Stopped? For now, but not punished. He killed Lana … and what of the humans he killed?” Trevor shook his head. “In my humble opinion, my Que
en, he has gotten off too easy.”

  “You do not think it is punishment enough to send him back to the Dark Realm, a place he loathed?”

  “No, I do not, and, my Queen, how can you call it punishment when he has been taken by his father, made to drink from the Cauldron, and has no memory of his past deeds? No, that is not punishment, and that is not the justice I sought. If you wanted to keep him alive, you should have given him a conscience and allowed him to suffer the agonies of regret and guilt.”

  “Even I cannot give one a conscience.” She clucked her tongue and waved this off. “I maintained the balance between the Realms, my Prince. The Dark King would have allowed us to put Pestale to death, yes, but at what cost? He would never have forgiven us. The Dark King is a complicated, unfathomable being, and we could not, cannot, afford to go to war with him. Pestale has always been his favorite creation. He seems to believe that Pestale, whom he calls his son, can be redeemed.”

  “I don’t want him redeemed. I want him dead,” Trevor spat.

  “Fie—such emotion is unbecoming a Seelie prince,” Aaibhe said gently.

  “I beg your pardon, my Queen,” he said, but she wasn’t sure he did.

  She studied him before saying, “I have a mission for you because I, like you, do not believe Pestale can be redeemed simply by drinking the water of forgetfulness.” She sighed. “I will be calling on your brother, on Breslyn … on many in the days ahead. We have more to concern us than justice or revenge, much more.”

  “What, my Queen?” He stared at her, and she saw his puzzlement.

  “I am not sure how it will come or when, but I saw destruction, not only the complete destruction of the Human Realm, but ours as well.”

  He crossed arms and shook his head. “I should have driven my Death Sword deep into his body!”

  “Hush now, Trevor. Are you mine to command?” she said gravely.

  He dropped his arms and then made a fist of allegiance that he pounded against his upper chest. “I am yours to command, my Queen, as ever, as always.”

  She smiled softly. “I know. In my vision, I saw Pestale … very much who he always was. Something has gone wrong. I do not believe he actually drank from the Cauldron. I also saw Morrigu steal something from the Dark King. Either the Dark King did not care or was not aware. In his present form, many things escape his notice. Or perhaps she took it from him eons ago before he met his human, when they were lovers. I have no way of knowing. However, she doesn’t know how to use it—yet. However, if she or Pestale learns how to open it and use it, there will be no stopping them, for it will open a portal through the Prison Walls large enough to allow Pestale to bring an army of his Unseelie monsters to raid our two worlds, humans and Seelie alike. Our numbers cannot compete with the hordes of Unseelie he will bring. Our only advantage is our light magic.”

  Trevor frowned. “You have seen this—with your ‘sight’?”

  “Yes, but my ability only allows me to see limited scenarios in the future, and those events don’t necessarily have to occur. Your mission, as well as all my Royals, will be to help make certain that Pestale remains where he is.” She smiled again at him. “Your brother and Z left earlier for the Highlands, where I felt a disturbance. Breslyn and Ete are just outside Dublin, where I felt another, and you must go to Killarney, where our Shee Willow and her Druid, Shayne, await your arrival.”

  Trevor stood up. “As you wish, my Queen.” He frowned again. “What of Princess Aida?”

  “She watches over Trinity with Willow’s father, Shee Desmond.” The queen’s hands were folded in her lap, but she wrung them at this juncture and said, “However, there is a force building at the Middle Lake—I can feel it even now.”

  He inclined his head, and this time when he brought up his gaze she could see the bitterness had been replaced with something else: determination and fury.

  “Trevor, do not allow your emotions to get in the way of your logic. The Dark Princes are cold and calculating and will think in steps. Try and do the same. Your goal is first to stop, not to kill unless it is the only way you can stop them.”

  “It is the only way! If we do not kill them, they will never stop coming at us. So I tell you honestly that this time I shall drive my sword deep into his cold-blooded essence and see him draw his last breath!”

  ~ Prologue ~

  JAZMINE DECKER LEFT the Charleston Aquarium at her back with a bounce in her step and a smile on her face.

  She walked briskly down the avenue and headed towards The Landing, only a short walk away. She made a victory sign, putting her fist up and pulling it down to exclaim right out loud, “Yes!”

  In a few months, she would be a marine biologist at the aquarium. Timing is everything, she thought as she clicked along the pavement.

  When a couple of guys in a convertible slowed down to look her over and wink, she was happy enough that she smiled back.

  They called out words of devotion as she continued her heady pace. She was so excited she could spit. The assistant she would be replacing had been offered a prestigious job at the aquarium in Atlanta, and voila—timing!

  What was even better, she had the summer to continue her job as guide with the tour company for which she had been working part time. It wasn’t great pay, but tips were always good, and she got to travel. They were leaving in the morning and heading for Ireland—Dublin first stop and then to Killarney. Luck, finally, after years of none, had finally found her!

  The Landing was a fun place to eat and listen to music. It was on the long pier overlooking the river, and as she approached the band was already in full swing. It was tourist season, and they played all afternoon and into the night.

  Spotting her friend as soon as she walked in, she waved and, as she walked towards her, did a little wiggle to the music.

  Tammy came rushing up to her and dragged her off to the ladies’ room to say, “Did you see them? Hot—they are both so hot! You can have Tony, ’cuz Stevie boy is mine.”

  Jazz dropped her purse on the counter and looked in the mirror. She felt like she was glowing. Was she glowing?

  She gave her long white-gold hair a tweak with her fingers, and her happy blue eyes stared at Tammy’s reflection in the mirror. “I got it! I got the job.”

  Tammy jumped up and down and hugged her close. “Fate, you got the job, and now you can have Tony. Damn, but that has to be fate—he is just your type.”

  “Yup, got the job, and maybe it was my skills that impressed them, not fate.” She stuck her tongue out at her friend. “But your Tony … I don’t know if I want to start anything tonight. Tam, I’m leaving in the morning.”

  “So, enjoy him tonight.” Tammy winked at her.

  Laughter filled the air as three girls entered the large bathroom, their heads together, their bodies still swaying to the beat of the live band’s music.

  “One-night stands,” Jazz answered with a sigh, “are not my thing.”

  “They don’t have to be your thing—and you don’t have to bed the guy. Just go and dance with him.”

  “Tammy, I just came in to see you before I left …” She didn’t meet Tammy’s gaze as she rooted about in her purse. “… give you a hug, and then head on home for a frozen dinner and TV. I need some sleep before heading out in the morning.”

  Tammy looked at her. “Jazz, you look at a guy and run. That is what this is about. You were supposed to spend the evening with me … eat, drink … it has only changed because a guy has entered the picture.” Tammy yanked her hair and shook her head. “Jazz, you have to get out of this funk you are in. It has been a month since you broke up with Joe the Creep.”

  “I know, but … I thought Joe the Creep was special. What kind of judgment do I have, if I thought he was special?”

  “Forget him, or put him down as a learning experience and move on. You can’t move on till you start flirting with the opposite sex. Sometimes, that’s what you go with, honey. Just forget all the rest—and have fun for one night.”
>
  Jazz thought about this but couldn’t get herself wrapped around the idea. She was often sure she’d been born in the wrong century. Her problem was she never felt she fit in. She wanted that knight in shining armor to ride up and carry her off. She wanted Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, who would pledge his love forever. She wanted … more, so much more than what was hulking around, bumping and grinding out on the dance floor.

  “Tammy, here is the thing. I don’t want to flirt up Tony at the bar. I have had a long, full day, and I’m flying out in the morning. I only stopped by to say so long for now and see ya when I get back.” She nudged Tammy towards the bathroom door. “Go have a great time.”

  Tammy took her shoulders and pointed her at the mirror. “Look at you. A natural blonde … a shade that most girls can’t even find in a bottle. Look at those eyes, so blue—so big with natural, dark, thick lashes that took me thirty minutes to put on myself tonight. Babe, you are so beautiful, and you can have whoever you want—”

  “That’s just it—don’t want anyone because I am happy on my own. Enough, girl,” Jazz said and laughed as she hugged her friend. She disliked being defined by how she looked. Hated that so many people saw her outside and never looked deeper than that.

  Tammy sighed. “Okie dokie, honey. Go on, do what ya gotta do, and email me when you get to Ireland.” She eyed her. “Maybe you’ll meet your knight in shining armor over there in the land of the fairies and elves.”

  Jazmine Decker hugged her friend fiercely. “You are the best, you really are, and I am a terrible friend.” So saying, she rushed out of the bathroom and headed for the front doors. She looked back and around one last time. The band had taken a break, and an oldie blasted through the speakers, Bonnie Tyler’s “Holding out for a Hero”. She smiled ruefully to herself. Yup, that was what she was doing, letting her life pass by, holding out for someone who in this day and age would never show up.

  “You are not going to find one,” she said out loud as she stepped out into the night air. They don’t exist anywhere but in romance novels. Then her attention was caught by two exquisite males walking her way, evidently heading for the lounge. Both were tall, golden-haired, handsome, and dressed to show off their muscular bodies. They wore human Glamour to perfection, but she hurriedly and sharply turned away.