The Temporal by Martin CJ

Author:Martin, CJ [Martin, CJ]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Kotoba Books
Published: 2012-05-02T16:00:00+00:00

PART II

Kaileen

Chapter 25

New Orleans

Through the smoke—patches of which still hung thick in the air—a woman with long, curly blood-red hair strolled down the sidewalk as if she owned the city. On her feet were the finest pair of Prada high heels, blue suede and purchased at Saks Fifth Avenue with a credit card owned by a man who was now, sadly, deceased. Her oversized sunglasses and wrinkle-less face gave the false impression of a woman in her twenties; she had, however, the mien of a mature lady who knew what she wanted and was on the march to get it.

The clack-clack of her heels reverberated off the glass storefronts. There were also sounds of coughing in the distance. She stepped over and around two bodies lying on the sidewalk. Only two? She had expected more. There were no cars around; the area had been more or less vacated. She heard sirens in the distance, but that would not be a threat; they would be long gone before the police arrived.

She entered the building. Through the thick smoke—it was most potent there—she saw the outlines of McGregor, face down on the floor lying in a pool of his own blood.

“Pitiful,” she said as she entered. Stepping across the room, she was careful to avoid planting her six-inch stiletto heels into the uneven valley of grout between the tiles. Reaching McGregor, she knelt down and turned him over. His cheeks were dirty and smudged by the blood; his eyes were shut, but she could hear the shallow breaths of a dying man.

There were two blotches of red seeping through torn cloth indicating he had suffered two bullet wounds, one in his arm and one in his left shoulder. She unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the wounds.

With her right hand, she reached for the knife strapped to her leg. A quick, shallow slice of the ulnar artery just below her left wrist began a blood flow that was quickly dammed by her supernatural healing abilities.

With her right index finger as the brush, she used the palette of her left wrist to apply the red pigment to the bullet holes. Rubbing one of the entry points with the tip of her forefinger, her blood reacted with his to induce a sizzling sound and a mild smoky smell. After a few circular motions, she lifted her finger and moved to the next wound.

The two bullet holes vanished, leaving only a trace of drying blood and grime from the floor. She finished by buttoning his shirt and adjusting his collar.

With a swift motion, she scooped him up. His body seemed weightless as she flew across the room and out the door, twisting her torso to maneuver the body out head first.

Once away from the smoke and death, she stopped at a bench and leaned over. She gently set him down so, other than a slumped head, he appeared to be sitting upright and waiting for a bus. A shallow breath was accompanied by a weak guttural groan.

Hands flew to his cheeks and her mouth was an instant later attached to his.

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