King Tomb (Page 66)

Antonio now appeared sullen as hell, his nostrils flared. “I’m not yet powerful enough to see into your future of where you’re going, by touching you.” That was all. With a scowl.

“Uh…” I rubbed my lips together. “Why would you have to touch me to see my future? You’ve been able to see it without touching me before.”

He snorted, then he mumbled a curse under his breath. “I just can’t. Not yet. Give me a few years, and I’ll be able to then. It’s all about age now. Or the time.”

I blinked. “I don’t understand.”

He sighed heavily, waving an aggravated arm through the air, toward the trees. “Never mind. There’s no time to explain. Your visitor is here.”

My attention swiftly honed to the trees.

Ezra muttered quietly, “There’s no…” His head cocked. “Wait, someone is there now.”

The six of us stood silent as a Shifter man, smelling heavily of wolf, stepped out of the tree line. He wore a hooded black cloak almost identical to our other guest’s minutes ago, though he held two more black cloaks over one of his forearms. He appeared mid-thirty in Com years, handsome as sin, with roughish black hair that fell in messy clumps to his cheekbones. His eyes were golden, shining dimly to light his way through the dark. The oddest part about his appearance was the bow he had over one shoulder, along with a lot of silver arrows in a leather tube, their spikes sticking up next to his head and gleaming a lethal invitation.

He stopped three feet away from our group, his eyes directly on Ezra and me.

Elder Merrick instantly took a step forward, assessing the Shifter. “What’s your name?”

The man smirked, making him appear even more dashing. “The name’s Tipkin. I’ve come to collect King Zeller and Queen Ruckler. They’ll be traveling with me tonight.”

I lurched forward a step…not of my own free will. My words were not even my own, pulled from my throat. “I’ll go with you this time. You have my word.”

Ezra grabbed my arm in a blur when I took another step toward the Shifter. “What are you doing?” His eyes darted across my face. “You just gave your word to a stranger.”

I yanked my arm away with Shifter strength, again my body acting like I was a drone. “I have no choice. It must be done.” I leapt through the air, landing directly next to the man I did not know, having pledged my loyalty to doing what he asked. “Ready?”

“What the f**k?” Ezra boomed, blurring to stand directly next to Tipkin and me. “If you’re going, I’m going too.” He paused. “Antonio said so.”

Tipkin grinned. “Antonio said so, huh? Do you do everything he says?”

“Fuck you,” Ezra growled quietly.

“Maybe another day.” Tipkin shrugged.

“Wait a goddamn second,” Elder Merrick hissed and stepped closer. “I don’t know this man, and I know damn near all Shifters. I want to know who the hell he really is.”

“I said my name is Tipkin,” he explained calmly, even as he handed Ezra a large robe, then gifted me with a smaller one. He pointed at us. “Put those on.” His golden eyes swung to Elder Merrick as we dressed. His words were blunt, and they would have knocked me on my ass if I were in control of my own actions instead of doing exactly as he bid. “I’m a hybrid. I’ve been in hiding. I’m Shifter and Mage, just like Philip Masterson. My Mage power, like his, is reversed because of our dueling nature. Where powerful purebred Mages can see the future, and a few lucky ones can travel there, I have the power to see the past and travel there.” He shrugged. “That’s where we’re going. To the past.”

Cahal grunted. “Bullshit. No one has the power to do that, because it would change time.” His words were heated and he looked as if he was constructing all kinds of deadly scenarios…for Tipkin. “Changing time is not allowed, if you don’t f**king know!”

Elder Merrick’s wolf growled softly. “I agree with Zeller. No one should go back in time.”

Tipkin shrugged a shoulder, watching as we finished buttoning the cloaks…and as I slipped the two remaining golden vials into one of my cloak’s pockets. “Since Philip is no longer winning this war, he is going back in time to try to change it. These two are going with me to stop him.” His hands landed on one of my shoulders and one of Ezra’s, keeping contact with us. “Don’t move.”

Ezra’s nostrils flared in fury, but he hurried to bark, “Dad, watch Isa for us.”

The roar of a Vampire and the growl of a Shifter bombarded my ears, even as a frantic rush of wind hit. But Tipkin was already glowing and a golden sphere surrounded Tipkin, Ezra, and me.

Again, my body did exactly as he had commanded, allowing him to take me where he wished, and I stood stock-still inside the golden sphere of non-entity. All I could see were sparkles of gold, but the ride was rougher than anytime I had transversed with Antonio. I steadied my legs as the sphere jerked side to side. I grunted quietly when it became exceptionally rough, and I grabbed onto Tipkin’s shoulder — one of Ezra’s hands landing right next to mine — so I didn’t lose connection with him.

The sphere was abruptly gone…and I scented decay in the night air. We stood inside a forest, the trees appearing as tall as the sky. But just as suddenly, we were back inside the sphere, but now we moved differently. I stared, trying to understand what was so perplexing about it. Slowly it dawned on me that we were going back in time now. It was the way the Mage magic felt, like a slow creep running down my spine, a shiver of backwards time.

It took much longer than our first ride.

Minutes passed by slowly inside the kinked magic.

Ezra and I kept a death grip on Tipkin’s shoulder.

I went to scratch my nose with my other hand, but my arm moved as if it were in quicksand, the pull against my action impossible…so my damn nose burned with the urge to be rubbed until the sphere disappeared in a rough jerk.

Ezra grunted, grabbing my shoulder with his free hand when I stumbled forward.

Since we each still had a tight hand on his shoulder, Tipkin lurched with us.

We all went down in a tumble of limbs.

“Your f**king arrows are on my face,” Ezra grouched, the upper portion of his frame buried under Tipkin’s torso, while both of their legs were lying heavily over my stomach and trapping me.

“Well, your gun is poking me in the ribs,” Tipkin griped.