Love Beyond Time

Chapter 1

The Tracers were just coming through the door when Meghan stepped into the time window and into the year 2000. Her heart beating fast she ran through the maze of graves that held the bodies of the citizens of New Orleans. A light flashed and she looked over her shoulder. A couple of Tracers had just stepped out of the time window. She tripped on a stone and fell, scraping her hands and knees. Pushing herself up she ran behind a mausoleum and leaned against its walls.

Breathing hard, she pushed a button on her wristband and a shield of the same configuration as the mausoleum appeared. She held her breath as the first Tracer walked passed her. He didn’t notice that the mausoleum was longer than the others in the cemetery. Meghan slowly let out her breath as she waited for the other Tracer to pass. As he went by her she saw the dart gun in his hand. Putting a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp she watched until the two Tracers were out of sight.

She waited another few minutes before pressing the button on her wristband and removing the shield. Meghan sidle her way to one side of the mausoleum and peeked around the corner. The Tracers weren’t there. She sighed in relief and looked at her hands. They were already healing. She brushed off the tiny stones from her hands and knees and keeping her eyes and senses alert she started walking following the faint music coming from the Quarter.

~*~*~

Logan was tired and frustrated, everything seemed to be going wrong and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it happening. Flames seemed to dance around his eyes and lick through his head, and the intensity of the pain distracted him from his job.

He weaved his way through the crowds, pushed his way in between a very large man in very tight jeans and an even larger woman in a shimmering gold dress. The air about him was alive, jumping to the sounds of party crackers and various musical tunes. But it was also permeated with danger, almost bubbling to boiling point. It was his job to hunt it out and destroy it at all costs.

If he had to, he knew that he would risk his life if it meant easing some kind of peace into the atmosphere. He knew he would give anything for peace. There was no sense of peace in the air that night, no matter how hard he tried, and he could not shake the tension building in his shoulders despite the party atmosphere around him.

He had received a call from an anonymous source claiming the murder of a friend. The source had revealed that the murderer had hunted them down before attacking, and while he had escaped the other had not been so lucky. Logan worked on gut instinct and his gut instinct told him to listen. And so here he was walking the streets of New Orleans in the hope of catching this villain before things moved too far.

On a hunch he turned off the main street and found himself walking down a small alleyway, the noise drifted slightly, although it was just as lively, but the heat vanished completely and things became cold. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his long black coat as he slowly moved forward.

He heard a noise and knew it was a bad idea, but he continued on anyway, moving further and further from the crowds and deeper into the dark. A figure stepped out behind him, and he sensed it as he whirled around, his coat tales flying about him as he adopted a defensive stance. The stranger’s face was hidden in shadow, but Logan was sensitive enough to recognize power and danger when he was faced with it. This man was somebody and he was about to attack.

"No weapons." the stranger said, disregarding his gun. Logan did the same, safe in the knowledge that he kept a knife tucked into a small scabbard around his ankle. They flew into action, arms striking out at each other, the assailant kicked out and Logan fell backwards, seconds later he was back on his feet and charging forward. He dodged from side to side as punches were thrown, letting the attacker strike before returning the blow.

The pair were backed up against the wall, Logan had the advantage, with his forearm pressed against the man’s throat and then he felt the blade slip between his ribcage. The fire in his head exploded and he stumbled backwards. He pressed his hand against the wounds and encountered the sticky substance, he’d been in this situation too many times and yet this was different. This time he knew it was fatal. He looked up at this man who had stabbed him and recognized the evil in his eyes. He was lost as firecrackers sounded around him.

Logan didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious but when he opened his eyes an angel floated above him. He tried to smile but because of the pain all he could manage to do was grimace. He tried to speak but the angel put a finger on his mouth and shook her head.

Meghan knelt beside the big man and tore a piece of cloth from the hem of her long shirt. She pressed it against the man’s wound to staunch the blood. When she’d run into the alley and stumbled over him, at first she thought he was a drunk but then she noticed the sweat on his face and he was shivering. Sensing there wasn’t much time left for the big man, she leaned down and spoke. “Can you move? We must get you to a hospital!”

Logan shook his head, “No. No hospital. Take me home,” he said weakly. Meghan looked into the man’s deep blue eyes for a moment then nodded at his request. She riffled his pockets and took out his wallet. She looked at the man’s driver’s license. His name was Logan Dupré. He was 6’’2, blue eyes and black hair. He lived not far from here, but she new she couldn’t drag him.

Stepping out of the alley, Meghan looked up and down street to make sure there were no Tracers that could impede her saving this man. They weren’t there. “GOOD,” she thought. She looked across the street and spotted a taxi. She put her fingers to her mouth and whistled loud to be heard above the lively music coming from the bar across from the alley.

The taxi driver lifted his head and saw Meghan standing there. She bade him to come and went back to the man. Meghan wrapped the man’s long coat around him to hide the wound then moved and squatted near his head. The angel but her hands under his armpits and started dragging him. The pain grew worst and Logan lost consciousness again.

The man who lay in the bed before her was dying. It was very clear that he had lost far too much blood and was growing weaker with each breath that he took. This was the man that she had come for, and now that she had the dart she could go no further without him. There was only one thing that she could do, and while it was unthinkable she knew it had to be done. She needed him.

She reached into the pocket concealed in the sleeve of her T-shirt and withdrew a tiny-sheathed dagger. Slowly she removed the protective cover, revealing the translucent weapon. The light caught inside it as she brought it to her palm and swiftly sliced through the skin, it was so smooth that she barely felt the pain. She then repeated the action on his palm. He flinched in his unconscious state but his eyes didn’t open, not even for the slightest moment. Before she had time to think about her actions she brought their palms together, squeezing as tight as she could until she had no more strength and her arm weakened, letting go of his hand.

She had successfully transfused her blood into his, returning his life to him. This man was the only person who could save her people and she couldn’t give that up even if it meant breaking the rule her people had lived by for centuries. A rule that stated clearly that an immortal could not give life to a mortal through the merging of blood. The fact that she broke it now merely proved the dire state her people found themselves in.

Meghan sat for an age at his side, the wound on her hand had long since healed and disappeared, and she was merely waiting for the completion of his regeneration. As she sat she studied him and the environment that he chose to live in. She brushed a hand through his hair pushing it away form his face, he had wonderful hair and for a second she allowed herself to think of nothing but him.

His skin was soft and smooth and she couldn’t help but trail the back of her fingers over his cheek until she felt the stubble that had been allowed to grow along his jaw. This man was something else, he was from a time different from hers and he exceeded all of her expectations.

He had risked his life because he believed so strongly in something that he would listen to a stranger to get it. While he knew nothing of her time or her cause he had already risked his life for them, for it was a Time Healer that had been murdered and a Tracer that had hunted him down. She had given her blood to him because this man was too strong for her to let die. She played a strand of his hair between her fingertips, amazed by its luxuriously dark length, when his eyes opened. She saw the confusion and the recognition in his eyes when his fractured whisper came, "Angel?"

“Angel?” he whispered. His voice was so weak as was his body but he felt so relaxed. Waves of pleasure were shooting through his body. He felt the gentle touch of a caress through his hair.

Where was he, who was this beautiful woman, looking down at him with passion in her eyes? He reached his hand up behind her neck and brought her lips to his. He kissed her softly, tasting her warmth. She resisted at first then matched the rhythm to his. Her lips were like pure silk; her breath was warm and enticing. Hmmm I surely must be in heaven, with this Angel. He fell gently back on the pillow and dreamt of sweet kisses and glorious green eyes.

Meghan O’Leary was stunned. She’d never before felt such emotion with just one kiss. She watched as he slept and thought how wonderful it would be to be kissed again. Her body was alive with emotions she never knew she had. Time passed slowly as she waited for him to awaken. The day flashed before her and wondered what she would do next. Where did the Tracers go? Will they know we are here and come for us? But more than anything she thought of this man and the desire to kiss him again.

The sounds of the outside world were filtering through the room. New Orleans is considered the town that never sleeps. Logan woke refreshed, feeling much alive. The room was bright with the morning sun as he swung his feet to the floor. He froze and noticed the woman asleep in the chair next to his bed. Thoughts raced through his head. He was running like a wolf through dark alleys feeling hot and cold, feeling a searing pain go through his body, a kiss so gentle and green pools of passion.

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