Time Jacker, Aaron Crash [most important books of all time txt] 📗

cardiologist. I don’t know. But I do know that Evelyn should probably invest in life insurance. The Fugs sometimes dine for a long time, the slow seconds, or they gulp down the quick minutes.”

“So if Kerrata kidnapped Annie, where would he take her?” Jack asked.

“An eon palace, maybe. It depends on what Kerrata’s endgame is. And before you ask, an eon palace is a special realm, outside of time and space. Where did they come from? Not something I know or care about. I stay clear. But if you’re any kind of royalty—angel, demon, or Interim—you might have your own eon palace. I know the duke has one, though he spends most of his time in hell.”

“Tanichron, a duke of hell,” Jack clarified.

“Bingo.” Bailey paused. “So you want to find Annie. I remember getting a read on her in the bank, but it all happened too fast, and I was all pumped up on your energy...because, dude, you don’t just leak Kairos, you have all the Septua energies.”

“The seven energies of creation. Okay.” Jack was still shocked that he’d discovered a strange new world right in the middle of what he once considered reality.

“Annie might’ve seemed like a nice girl, Jack, but she had some dirty thoughts. If she’s the one I’m thinking of. Brunette? Nice big ass? She had an ass for days. Don’t you just love the human female form? It’s all curvy and soft and it smells so good.” Bailey fanned herself. “Getting a little hot back here.”

“Don’t tell me about Annie’s secret sexual life. I don’t want to know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I do. But I’ll hear it from her once I find her, and if we click.”

Bailey sang out, “Jack and Annie, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes an orgy in a horse-drawn carriage.”

“You can’t have an orgy in a carriage, I don’t think.”

Bailey tsked him. “Believe me. You can. I have.”

He did believe her.

“Uh, Jack, where are we going?”

“I’m going to rob a rich asshole.”

“Sounds like quality wrongdoing.” Bailey grinned. “As a soulless sex demon, I approve of any immorality. But won’t you feel guilty?”

“Depends on a few things,” Jack said. “How rich are they? Are they evil assholes? And how much will it hurt them? What can you tell me about Tim Tarrington and his son, Preston?”

“Dammit, Jack, I’m a sex demon, not Google.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“What?”

“That you’re this and not that?”

“It’s an old joke, as old as the world—at least as old as the 60s. Reminds me of a joke. A guy gets up to go to work and his wife tells him the sink’s leaking. He tells her, ‘I’m a banker, not a plumber,’ and leaves her to deal with it.”

“What a dick,” Jack said, changing lanes.

“Yeah, he was, Anyway, he gets home, sink’s fixed, her hair’s up, and she has what looks like cake batter on her cheek. The banker asks her, ‘Did you call the plumber?’ and she says, ‘Yeah, but when it came time to pay I realized I didn’t have enough cash, so he told me I could either let him come on my face or bake him a cake.’ The banker asked, ‘What did you do?’”

Jack snickered. He had a pretty good idea where this was going.

“She wiped her cheek and said, ‘I’m not a baker, and this isn’t cake batter.’” Bailey laughed until she was almost crying, but she stopped so the tears wouldn’t ruin her mascara. “Oh, that joke is funny, but that’s not why I have my catchphrase.”

Jack glanced over at her. He was pretty sure the joke had been a true story. From his time in the women’s showers, it certainly sounded like Bailey’s handiwork. “You were going to tell me about the Tarringtons.”

“I wasn’t. I don’t know. I have to be near them or their shit to get a read on them. And mostly I can just tell you about their kinks.”

“I hope they’re sick fucks,” Jack said. “Because then I’ll rob them blind.”

Bailey let out a happy breath. “You’re so hot when you’re immoral.”

His phone led him right to the mansion of the Tarringtons, one of two houses they had in an exclusive neighborhood. Preston lived in one, the older Tarrington lived in another. Jack went to Preston’s place. He’d seen firsthand how much of an asshole that guy was.

However, Jack also knew his hatred of Preston Tarrington grew out of his loathing of Plum Creek’s Malcolm family. In a very real sense, the Malcolms had destroyed Jack’s life.

He shook off the memories. If he never thought about the Malcolms again, it would be too soon.

Jack didn’t park. He didn’t want his car on any security cameras, but he had the perfect solution for that. A click of the soldier, and his car and all of time came to a screeching halt.

He and Bailey got out. When it was time to start up the Influunt, yes, his car might be spotted in the neighborhood, but it wouldn’t have appeared to stop at all.

He and Bailey approached the house, and Jack tried the front door. It was locked. There was no help for it. He’d have to smash a window. Well, in the grand scheme of things, it was only glass.

“Keep an eye out for Fugs,” Jack said.

“Always,” she agreed. “Fugs like demon Kairos as much as they like humans. They’ll even eat angels. I don’t blame them. I’d eat an angel.”

Jack shot her a quizzical look. “Literally?”

Bailey rolled her smoky eyes. “No, not literally. I was talking about oral sex. I bet angel pussy is sweet.”

“Spoken like a true sex demon.”

He went around to the back of the house, took a block from a retaining wall, and got ready to throw it through the back patio door.

A voice stopped him. “Jonathan Andrew Masterson. What do you think you’re doing?”

With time stopped, he expected he might get attacked by some Interim monster. But to be admonished by a beautiful blond woman who could see