Time Jacker by Aaron Crash (nonfiction book recommendations .TXT) 📕

Bailey reached forward and caressed the angel’s hair. “I think you’re more like me than you’d care to admit. We’re not exactly normal. Whatever Jack is...whatever a Time Knight is...being around him is changing us. Fuck. Talking is hard. Fine.”

“Tell us about Cupid’s Arrow,” Jack said.

Bailey gulped in air. “What day is it?”

Gabby blinked. “We were in the Cast Away, Gone Astray, so it’s hard to remember. I’m still a little discombobulated.”

It even took Jack a minute. “Tuesday.”

Bailey sighed. “That’s great. Ginger is working. She’ll be able to help.”

Why wasn’t Jack surprised that the rogue sex demon knew the schedule of dancers at the local strip club?

He pulled into the parking lot and checked his Kairos levels. He wasn’t only full of Kairos, but he also had extra in the auxiliary storage. He didn’t know exactly how much time he had, but he figured he probably had at least an hour of time stoppage, if not two.

He flicked his thumb over the tattoo on his left hand. The world went quiet. They got out of the car in the dirt parking lot. There were a few cars and trucks there. The sign was of a little chubby angel with a bow.

Bailey rolled her eyes. “Three thousand years ago, Eros was feared as a demon. No one wanted to get hit with an arrow of lust. That shit could destroy you. Now? You fuckers don’t take anything seriously, and I kind of love it.”

“People still know what’s important,” Gabby protested.

The demon let her head fall back. “Keep telling yourself that, Feathers.”

They got out of the car and into the silence. Both Jack and Gabby supported Bailey through the entryway, past the bouncer, and into the strip club. A few bearded guys sat in the front row of seats facing the dancers. To the right was the bar and an empty buffet table.

On the stage, leaning against a pole, was a blonde with thick hips and a little belly. She had a tiny little thong covering her pussy; since the place served booze, they couldn’t go full nude. Her hair was too toxically bright to be natural, but she was cute enough to dance on the stage on a Tuesday afternoon.

“That’s Jade,” Bailey sighed. “Ginger is backstage with the evening girls. They’re getting ready.”

They made their way through seats, past tables, and into the back room. There were four women in various levels of dress, from a Black woman who was naked to a freckled redhead who was in overalls like the best-looking farmer in the world. She had pigtails and a bright pink mouth.

“Let me guess,” Jack said. “That’s Ginger.”

Bailey nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t have enough juice to pull her out of the Tempus Influunt. Feathers, can you do the honors?”

Gabby furrowed her brow. “I don’t know if I should. Won’t she be upset to suddenly see strangers here?”

The sex demon laid it on thick. “Please, Gabby, I’m dying. Please help me.”

Gabby sighed. “Okay. I have enough Nefesh that I should be able to unfreeze her.” The angel gently took hold of the farmer girl’s arm and pulled her a little. Gabby stepped back.

The redhead’s mouth fell open. “What is going on?”

Right then, Jack lost his grip on Bailey. She fell to her knees next to the redhead. “Remember, Ginger, how you were getting tired of your bullshit life? We’re here to make it far more interesting. I’m a sex demon. Blondie over there is a horny angel, whether she knows it or not, and that’s Jack. He can stop time. I’m going to need you to fuck us so I don’t die. How about helping us out? Remember that fantasy you had about having sex with a horny couple outside by the river? We can make that happen.”

Ginger had been pale, but the mention of the fantasy put a rosy bloom in her cheeks. “How did you know about that?”

“Sex demon.” Bailey must’ve had just enough energy to sprout horns and change her eye color to a solid black. Her tail was hidden at the moment.

Ginger touched one of Bailey’s horns. “You’re not kidding. A sex demon? I don’t want to go to hell.”

“You won’t go to hell,” Bailey said. “You’re a good mom, and it wasn’t your fault you married a meth addict. And it’s so sweet how you help out your younger brother. And all the other dancers love how supportive you are, especially Cinnamon.” She gestured to the frozen Black woman putting on makeup. “Well, her actual name is Dorothy, but you know, she can’t go on stage with Dorothy, or so she thinks. I don’t think most people would mind. The men aren’t too particular, and she’s so pretty and has jugs for days.”

“The names are mostly for branding,” Ginger said quietly. She glanced at Gabby. “If you’re an angel, can you prove it?”

Gabby was as bright as ever. “If we step outside I can. It would hurt to bring out my wings with this suit on.”

“Please,” the redhead said quietly.

They went out a door and into the parking lot. Plum Creek ran north, joining up with the Platte. There was a grove of cottonwood trees lining the stream with lots of yellow leaves littering the ground.

Ginger was barefoot, with cute pink toes, but her gingham shirt was blue. She was very cute and made up for her performance, which Jack imagined would happen once the thick blonde left the stage. By that time, Jack hoped that Bailey would be full of Ijjinaya again.

The four of them wandered across the parking lot and down a little trail. By the river was a bench where people could sit to overlook the stream. The air was warm, and the place smelled like autumn in Colorado, one of Jack’s favorite smells.

Jack stood back and watched as Gabby took off her jacket and hung it on a broken branch of the tree. She then undid her white shirt until her lacy bra