Time God Warlock [Chapter 3]

Hey peeps!

More Time God Warlock for everyone. More hilarity, lol

Shami

Chapter 3

            “Sir, sir,” the hostess shouted. “Weapons are not allowed in the restaurant.” She pointed to a sign behind the front desk. Sure enough, it read: NO WEAPONS ALLOWED. A classic Stockton staple.

            The deranged stranger wasn’t deterred. He shoved his crossbow into his duffle bag and then tossed it to a man waiting in line. The man, unprepared, stumbled backward upon catching the bag, a grunt escaping him. It was obviously heavy, and he almost dropped it while trying to regain his balance.

            “Hold that,” the duster-wearing lunatic said, gruff and unapologetic.

            Then he stomped into the dining room, his eyes frantically scanning over the tables and booths, his nostrils flaring. The man’s brown hair was peppered white at the temples, and his striking blue eyes were bloodshot and freakish. Was he high on drugs? Or was he always this ugly? Finch didn’t know.

            “I know the egg is here,” the man announced, manic laughter in his words. “I can smell it.” He slammed his fist down on a nearby table and all the plates leapt an inch upward, some spilling chow main onto the pristine white tablecloths. “There’s no use hiding from me! I’m Jack Holt, the best goddamn bounty hunter this side of the Rockies!”

            “Wow,” Kull muttered between sips of soup. “I wonder how many bounty hunters are on this side of the Rockies to begin with…”

            She was literally the only patron still consuming food, so unbothered by the bizarre scene unfolding that she occasionally returned her attention to her soup.

            Finch had heard of a bounty hunter who called himself Holt. He was a man who specialized in ending monsters and demons, and minored in avoiding apocalypses. From what Finch could recall, the man had prevented a vampire attack in the early nineties that threatened to turn all of California into the undead. Holt was a legend after that.

            He was probably pushing fifty now, too. While he was still tall and muscled, he strode forward with a slight limp, his left leg not as strong as his right. Logic said it was probably time for him to retire, but the wild look in his eyes told Finch that Holt would rather impale himself with his own crossbow bolt than ever stop hunting supernatural threats.

            A waiter cautiously approached Holt from the side, his arms up and his movements tense, like he was approaching a wild animal. “Sir? Can I help you with—”

            “Stay out of my way,” Holt roared. “There’s a highly dangerous individual here that’ll likely kill us all if I don’t find him!”

            It only took a second for that information to sink in. People screamed, and then the whole restaurant exploded in a flurry of movement. Families rushed out the front, side, and emergency exit doors, causing an alarm to sound. People leapt over one another in their rush to leave the restaurant.

            Holt was unfazed. He stormed ahead, sniffing deeply, and even flipped a table standing in his way, sending all the plates, food, and silverware crashing to the floor.

            He was heading for Finch.

            “Time for us to go,” Finch said, pushing Kull to the edge of the booth.

            She resisted his efforts, frowning. “What? But why? We’re not done with the date.”

            “Are you not paying attention?” Finch hissed under his breath. The blaring alarm hurt his ears.

            “That bounty hunter doesn’t seem too scary. You could easily take him.”

            Kull protested, but Finch didn’t stop shoving her until they were both out of the booth. Then, once a family of five was running by, Finch pulled Kull along and pretended to be part of the fleeing group.

            Holt knew about Chronos’s egg. Clearly. But it quickly became apparent that he didn’t know Finch had the egg. As Finch ran by the madman, Holt got a good look at him, but there was no recognition in his bloodshot eyes. He was squinting—looking for something—and hoping he would spot it in the dozens of people fleeing.

            He was following a scent, and he didn’t know where it led.

            Finch thanked the good stars he had some luck, though he noted this was third date in the row interrupted by something insane. He was cursed. It was the only explanation.

            Once outside, Finch immediately headed for his vehicle. Kull stumbled behind him, her tall heels giving her problems.

            “Wait, Adair,” she said, trying to fix her footwear.

            Finch simply scooped her up in his arms, carrying her bride-style over to his vehicle. He really didn’t want to brawl with a bounty hunter. They didn’t typically have personal magic, but they always had tools to make up for that fact. Sometimes really annoying tools. And if this crusty douche-canoe knew that the egg had temporal abilities, he might somehow have brought tools to deal with that specifically.

            Which was just rude.

            Dozens of people fled to their own vehicles, all attempting to pull out at the same time. But this was California. Every parking lot was half the size it needed to be, and everyone began playing bumper cars in their frantic need to flee the scene.

            Finch had to dodge and weave between SUVs, all while holding Kull close.

            Kull giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, my hero. Whisking me off my feet, I see.”

            “I’m not whisking you anywhere,” Finch said through clenched teeth.

            “Isn’t this the exact definition of whisking?” She playfully kicked her legs as she leaned into his chest. “I would say this has been a good date so far.”

            “No. It’s not.”

            “But I think it is,” Kull replied with a singsong tone.

            Finch reached his Toyota and groaned. “Our restaurant was wrecked by a loon before we managed to eat half our meal. I submit to you that we didn’t have a good date.” He set Kull down and then opened the passenger-side door. “I would, however, say we made a good escape.”

            “That’s a win!”

            Just as he said that, the plink plink plink of bullets hiding the side of a car filled the parking lot. Several holes appeared on the side of the Toyota, mere inches from Finch. When he whirled on his heel, he spotted Holt holding a 9mm handgun, pointed straight at the area just next to him.

            Holt was sending a message. He wasn’t aiming to kill. Yet.

            “You’re not getting away,” Holt shouted. He held his duffle bag in his left hand, his grip freakishly tight. “Do you even know what you’re doing? What kind of carnage and destruction you’re incubating?”

            Finch cursed under his breath. Why did things like this always happen to him? He stared down Holt, wondering how the man ever came to know about Chronos’s egg in the first place.

            “You’re the one opening fire in the middle of a crowded parking lot,” Finch yelled back at the man. “And you want to lecture me about carnage and destruction?”

            A truck pulled out, tires screeching, and it came between Finch and Holt, blocking line-of-sight. Finch wasn’t about to miss his opportunity to leave. He ducked into his car and stared the engine.

            Through it all, Kull was reclining in her chair and casually fixing her heels, humming a little tune.

            Finch squealed out of the parking lot, keeping his eyes on the area behind his Toyota. He came within half an inch of hitting another car, but then he quickly turned, drove over a decorative grass hill, and then slammed across a sidewalk before skidding out onto a main street. Someone honked as they swerved around him.

            “Watch it, asshole!” someone shouted from vehicle.

            “Wow, this evening is so exciting,” Kull said as Finch sped down the road, pulling as much distance between them and the restaurant as possible.

            “I wish my dates were less exciting,” Finch murmured.

            “Really? Because this is kinda similar to this rom-com I watched where the lady was the target of an assassination attempt, and the man was like a CIA agent or something, sent to protect her. They fell so in love. It was a great movie.”

            Kull giggled for a moment, but then she abruptly stopped, her eyes wide. When she turned to Finch. He frowned, wondering if something terribly wrong had happened and he just couldn’t see.

            “Kull? Are you okay?”

            “I just realized… You’re the girl who’s being chased by an assassin, which means I’m the CIA agent.”

            “No.” Finch shook his head. “Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop this line of logic.”

            “But… I should be protecting you, Adair!” She pointed to the steering wheel. “Turn around. Let me deal with the bounty hunter. I’ll handle this.”

            Finch turned down another major road, heading straight for his office. He wanted Enzo with him, and he definitely wanted tools of his own. He would need to subdue Holt, there was no way around that.

            “C’mon,” Kull said. “Don’t you like roleplaying? I heard that really strengthens relationships. And apparently, it brings spice back into the bedroom, which is like, what every couple wants.”

            Finch didn’t even dignify any of those statements or questions with an answer. He wasn’t entertaining Kull’s fantasies, not when they were running from a gunman.

            “Aren’t you little worried about the threat chasing us?” he sardonically asked.

            “No. Definitely not.” Kull huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Did you see that man? He’s nothing compared to you. We’re fine.”

            Her utter, unmitigated confidence actually chilled some of Finch’s irritation. He slowed his car and took the next turn like an average civilian, the grip on the steering wheel loosening. Kull was right. Even if the man had tools—even if he knew about Chronos—he didn’t have the power to stop time.

            “Well, I wish you’d take the situation a little more seriously,” Finch stated.

            Kull nodded once. “Okay. Thank you. I appreciate you being honest. I’ll take it more seriously.” She held out her arm and poked the smooth skin on her wrist. “Draw me a Mark of Chronos.”

            “What?”

            “If we’re going to actually deal with this guy, I need to make sure I can remember everything. Draw me the mark, and let’s do this for real.”

            Finch could rewind time, but in doing so, everyone forgot all previous events. Except, of course, for those who carried the Mark of Chronos. If Finch drew the mark on people, they would remember the events from the time previous, though he usually ended up having to draw the mark over and over again because he drew it after he marked the time.

            Finch parked his vehicle in front of his PI office. Then he glanced at his phone.

            8:31 p.m.

            He grabbed his glove compartment, tore it open, and took the first pen within reach. In just four strokes, he drew the Mark of Chronos on Kull’s forearm.

            Then he marked the time.

            Now he wouldn’t have to draw it over and over again. She would have it until the ink faded from her flesh.

            “Okay, I’m ready now,” Kull stated. “Uh. So what should we do first? Call the police?”

            Finch shook his head. “No. We should probably subdue the man and hand him over to the FBOI.”

            “Oh! Excellent plan. And then, afterward, we can finish our date, okay? We only did half of one, really, and I want the full experience.”

            Finch knew he would never escape this. He said he would take her on a date, and Kull would get her date, even if meant dragging him kicking and screaming. It was better to go along with it.

            “Fine,” he said. “Once we take down this muppet, we’ll… go get some ice cream. Or something.”

            With a gleeful smile, Kull nodded. “It’s a promise!”