beats per minute Read online

  The whirring of the blades made it too loud to talk so Raegan was left alone with her thoughts. Her mind felt uncomfortably full, as if she’d had the mental equivalent of a twelve course meal. There was so much to get her head around. She didn’t feel like she’d ever understand it – any of it. She could only hang onto the wobbly sense that whatever Con had been hinting at was enormous, something untapped that she, along with only a few others, had to offer.

  And her untapped gift, as he had deemed it, would relate to time. Huge, inconceivable, fourth-dimensional time. Time that was now linked to her heartbeat. Time that she could learn to control. She pressed a hand to her chest now, feeling the warm, steady thump beneath her palm. The concept was so alien that she could do nothing but reach out with her mind and touch it lightly, then leave it there to soak in. She had nowhere to put that information; it connected to nothing else she had ever known.

  And there was still Marie to think about. Though in some way it was comforting to know that she hadn’t turned her friend’s disappearance into a deranged fantasy, the truth of what had happened to her, now confirmed, was so much worse. Raegan only had to feel the bruises on her neck gingerly to guess at what her friend must have gone through. Better for Raegan to have been delusional and for Marie to still be alive.

  But Marie was gone and the body of an old woman was all that was left; which was maybe the cruellest thing of all. Raegan’s friend had been so alive: so young. But no one would recognise her now. No one would mourn her.

  It was this thought that had first stopped Raegan’s feet from moving as Con was guiding her towards the helicopter.

  ‘Wait.’ Raegan’s long nose was already pink from the cold as she struggled to be heard over the increasing howl of the choppers.

  ‘Marie.’ The name was thick with unshed tears. ‘When I found her, she wasn’t herself. She was an old lady. But it was her. I could feel it.’

  Con nodded with sympathy but not surprise. Raegan knew then that this was not the first time.

  ‘She’s still where I found her, in the woods.’ Raegan had to raise her voice; the helicopters were nearly overhead. ‘I can’t believe she’s dead, and she’s just lying there, as if she never existed. I never should have left her.’

  ‘There was nothing you could have done.’ Con held her by the shoulders, firmly, and crouched so that he was on her level. He looked at her squarely. ‘I mean that, Raegan. If you’d have stayed, you would have joined her.’

  She flinched but he did not let go. ‘My God, she did not deserve what was done to her. But it’s not your fault.’

  Raegan was crying now, red hair catching on her wet cheeks as it blew in the rising wind. ‘She’s there, all by herself. Unsung, unknown. I can’t bear it.’

  ‘She won’t be. Bridey will go to her. She will be laid to rest with at least one friend looking on.’

  ‘Really?’ She croaked, hardly daring to believe it.

  ‘I promise.’

  It wasn’t much; but the thought that Marie could at least be given this small dignity eased Raegan’s mind. It also strengthened her determination to learn more about this new world. If she had known the truth before she might have been able to help Marie. Something steely formed inside her. She would do anything the Sentinel asked, absorb everything they would teach her – she’d work until her bones gave out. Whatever it took.

  ***

  It was very late by the time the helicopter finally began to descend; but even without a great deal of light the structure was hard to miss.

  It was a fort. There was no other way to describe it.

  Impenetrable, smooth walls rose from the banks of a vast moat and curved around as far as the eye could see. Then one of the walls seemed to crack as, with imperious slowness, a huge drawbridge was extended. Next moment a fleet of commandoes flowed over it in seamless formation. Con smiled as Raegan pressed her face against the glass in awe.

  ‘Welcome to Unit Prime.’

  She turned back to Con only when the helicopter had landed and there was little more to see than a swarm of commandoes surrounding the glass bubble. Raegan smiled nervously. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘Crosshaven, not too far from Cork. Why are you whispering?’

  Raegan blushed as she heard one of the soldiers snickering. She waited until the hatch had opened and the helicopter began to empty before replying. ‘Subtle, Grandda, cheers. So who are our new chums, anyway?’

  ‘You didn’t think the Sentinel would operate outside of the government, did you?’

  Raegan’s eyes popped out. ‘You mean I’m joining the army?’ She hissed, ignoring his proffered hand and leaping down from the helicopter without assistance.

  Con shook his head and steered Raegan after their camouflaged escorts, who had evidently been given some signal to move on.

  ‘Use your head, girl. Did you really think that a group as powerful as the Regents would go unnoticed? The military lend their assistance where necessary, and the Sentinel communicate with them and the rest of the government on a need to know basis. The Sentinel are like a hidden branch of the Department of Defence, if that makes more sense to you.’

  ‘But why-‘

  Con made an impatient sound. ‘Max Savage, head of the Unit and one of the Sentinel’s leading members, will explain more. When we get up there. Come on, we’re falling behind with all this chattering.’ With that he broke away from her and jogged off up the trail. Already a little out of breath, Raegan had no choice but to follow.

  Despite her initial misgivings Raegan was soon a big fan of military efficiency. The speed with which Raegan and Con were whisked through the Unit’s various security measures was mindboggling. Raegan was glad. The initial excitement had faded and she was knackered. Not to mention starving. Reduced to a basic state where all she could think about was a cheese sandwich, she didn’t feel much like a gifted being, or whatever Con had tried to convince her she was.

  Fortunately, all tests passed, it was not long before they were in a lift zipping up to meet Mr Savage himself. Despite military precision and economy of movement, Raegan did not miss the amount of effort it took to work the lift; several cards were swiped, codes were punched, and their escort even had to press a thumb into a groove by the button that said ‘Praetor’ (like ‘Penthouse’ in a hotel lift) before it would move. She couldn’t help wondering what kind of person needed to surround himself with so much security. But before she could say anything, Con – as if reading her mind - gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Clearly it was not a good idea to ask questions about their protective procedures.

  Instead, she focused her gaze on the shiny metal surface in front of her. She was interested but not surprised to see a white, delicately cloudy stone embedded in it; she had noticed similar crystals set at regular intervals all around the Unit. Now was probably not the time to ask about these, either.

  A few seconds later, there was a ping, and the doors opened.

  It was like walking into a circular library. At least three quarters of the vast, curved wall space was taken up, floor to ceiling, with shelves of leatherbound, expensive-looking books. There were no crystals. At four points in the circle, equidistant from the centre, the bookshelves parted to accommodate four large windows, allowing the viewer to monitor the yard from a variety of angles.

  In the centre of the plush green carpet stood Max Savage, commander of the Unit and Magister Militus of the Sentinel.

  His power was immediately obvious. He was younger than she expected, tall, but not that tall, and solidly built; yet, when he crossed the room to shake hands with Con, greeting him like an old friend, he seemed to dwarf the much larger man.

  When he turned to Raegan, she was surprised at how nondescript his features were when considered individually; brown eyes, neat jaw, very short grey hair. And yet when he looked at her his eyes were no longer plain and brown but deep and shrewd: glinting but giving off little warmth.

  ‘We’re so glad to have you her
e, Raegan. Welcome.’ The voice was smooth and as crisp as the collar of his white shirt and perfectly pressed dark suit. Raegan wondered how anyone could look so presentable at one o’clock in the morning, and fought the urge to stand to attention. ‘I understand you didn’t get a chance to see much of the grounds, but how did you find your first glimpse of Unit Prime?’

  ‘Er, well…’ Raegan glanced at her grandfather nervously, not sure what sort of response the Praetor was after. In the end she was too tired to come up with anything better than the truth. ‘A little scary, actually. Crossing the drawbridge was like walking through a giant electric shock.’

  Max smiled indulgently. ‘It is a forcefield powered by blood recognition, so that makes sense. Blood magick,’ he added, then when Raegan looked none the wiser, he gestured to the armchairs in front of his desk.

  ‘Please sit down. My house keeper, Mrs Crawfield, has prepared some supper. We thought you might be hungry after your trip.’

  Summoning every ounce of self-restraint she could muster, Raegan replied ‘thank you’ before sinking into a chair and taking just one triangle from the groaning stack of sandwiches. But that was where the politeness ended. She could not stop herself from taking a huge bite. The creaminess of the delicately herbed egg mayonnaise and floury brown bread was the best thing she had ever tasted.

  Max and Con exchanged a smile, and then Max looked over Con’s shoulder at the two soldiers who stood rigidly on either side of the lift doors. ‘At ease, gentleman.’ At once both soldiers relaxed but waited patiently for Max’s next instruction. ‘That’ll be fine. Please leave us. Get some sleep.’

  Her mouth full, Raegan watched the men obey instantly, leaving the room without a word.

  ‘Water?’ Max continued, as if nothing had happened. He walked over to the sideboard and poured without waiting for her response. He then held up a crystal decanter glowing with an amber liquid. ‘I’ve got a nice scotch here, Con, if you’re interested.’

  ‘Aye, go on then.’ Con and Raegan both took their glasses gratefully, though Con did not gulp his drink as Raegan proceeded to.

  Instead Max and Con raised their glasses in a silent toast and sipped. Then Max turned to Raegan, a thoughtful expression his face.

  ‘I was sorry to hear about your friend, Raegan.’

  His directness caught Raegan off guard. How did he know? She glared at Con.

  ‘Oh, don’t blame your grandfather,’ Max spoke before she could. ‘And please don’t be upset at my intrusion. This must have been a hugely confusing evening for you, but in order for us to make sense of things, I think we must start with Marie.’

  She rubbed her eyes. ‘I guess we do need to talk about this evening.’ Even to Raegan, her voice sounded flat. ‘But I don’t see why we need to talk about Marie. I really don’t want to think about it. I never want to think about it again, to be honest.’ The image of Marie’s withered, bruised body was like a punch in the stomach each time it crossed her mind.

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Do you? That’s a joke. You don’t even know me.’

  ‘Raegan.’ There was a warning in Con’s voice. He looked at Max. ‘I’m sorry. She’s- it’s been a long night.’

  ‘Don’t apologise for me,’ Raegan said rudely. ‘But yeah, it has been a long night. And I’m fed up of talking. Why don’t you talk? Both of you. You can start by explaining what I’m doing here.’

  Max leaned back in his chair, contemplating the whisky swirling around in his glass. When he looked up, the cheerful façade had gone. Instead there was something much more chilly in the endless brown eyes. ‘I can’t remember the last time I allowed someone to talk to me like that.’ His voice was soft. ‘It’s your first night, so I’ll give you a pass. But let’s get something straight. We don’t do teenage melodramas here. Our work is more than important: it’s crucial. I’m not finished.’ He didn’t even flinch as Raegan tried to interrupt; he just carried on, a hint of ice beneath the transatlantic tones. ‘Your friend died. That’s tough. But she won’t be the last. So if I ask you to talk, you talk. Or you’ll find yourself doing laps outside from dawn until dusk.’

  Raegan felt about an inch tall. She didn’t even try to respond.

  ‘Do we understand each other?’

  She waited until her voice was steady enough for the words not to break in her throat. ‘We do.’

  ‘Thank you, Raegan.’ Max, calmer now, took another sip of his whisky. He sat up in his chair. ‘Look, I’ll make it easy for you. She was older, wasn’t she, when you found her? To stumble across a body in that state can be quite frightening.’ Raegan boggled at the complete understatement.

  ‘The reason I wanted to talk about Marie is because it’s all connected. This can be confusing at first. Marie, the men you met at the nightclub, a sense of memory loss the next day. Time is what links all three occurrences.’

  Her brain wouldn’t work. She stared at him dumbly. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘You couldn’t remember anything the next day because there was nothing to remember. Time had sped up around you so that barely any time had passed at all, for you; though for Marie, quite a bit had taken place.’

  ‘What happened to her?’ It was the question Raegan had been too afraid to ask.

  ‘Most likely she was drugged, as you were, with a mild relaxant, and then persuaded to leave the bar under romantic pretences. Once out of sight, she was murdered. That in itself is horrifying, I know, but the method is something that you could not imagine. Her life force was not simply put out, you see.’ Max leaned forward, low over the desk, each word slow, so that there could be no misunderstanding. ‘It was stolen. The time was drawn from her. That was why she was an old woman when you found her. The years were stolen away.’

  ‘But… by who? I thought Regents were the ones who controlled time.’ She was filled with horror. ‘One of – well, us, I guess I should say – we hurt her? We did this?’

  ‘No. But we should have been there to stop it, and for that failing, I can only apologise. Her essence was stolen by those who have none of their own. They are the main reason that we have been given these powers – who we must defend time, and therefore civilians, from.’

  ‘So that’s why the first Regent was given his powers? Because of them?’

  ‘In a sense. It’s hard to say who came first – the chicken and the egg, if you like – but the end result is the same. Like night and day, both parties must exist to preserve the natural order of things. The link is time. We protect it, they steal it: living on borrowed time, killing others to further their own mortality. We call them the Fay, and you have been unlucky enough to meet two already.’

  ‘Philip and Christian.’ Raegan said numbly.

  ‘That was what they called themselves.’ Max shook his head. ‘And Christian was the one you tangled with tonight. Fortunate that this particular Fay was arrogant and twisted enough to enjoy the chase, or your grandfather might never have found you.’ He looked at Con sharply. ‘Though if he had at least told you how the pendant worked, it would have been no problem at all.’

  Con grunted angrily. ‘Subtle as ever, Max. Fine. Raegan, the pendant glows when the Fay are near, which you’ve already worked out, I’d wager. If you wrap your hand around it, anyone who has a companion hourglass can find you.’ Con slid a concealed flap on the front of his silver ring forward to reveal a tiny hourglass cut into the band, pressing against his skin.

  But Raegan was completely oblivious to this exchange, turning Max’s earlier words over in her mind. She twisted her hands again and again as the guilt finally burst out of her.

  ‘So if I’d known about this, about everything, I could have fought Christian? Stopped him, somehow?’

  Max and Con shared a tense glance. ‘It’s difficult to say,’ Max said at last. ‘Most Regents spend their entire lives fighting the Fay; tracking them, hunting them, and killing as many as possible. But these are dangerous creatures, Raegan. Sometimes we fail; sometimes, they kill us
instead, or they evade us and we never find them again. It is impossible to save everyone. That is one of the hardest lessons for a Regent. And it is terribly sad that it is a lesson that you, before you have even embarked on your training, have already learned.’

  The frantic movement of the blue-green eyes, which flickered with the tide of her emotions, stilled. She met his gaze.

  ‘Training. That’s why I’m here, I suppose. To learn.’

  ‘Yes. What you endured tonight was called a traverse – the process by which the Regent manipulates time through his or her heartbeat. The art of traverse is one of the most powerful weapons in a Regent’s arsenal: it allows you to attack a Fay outside of common time, which reduces civilian involvement, and when used properly can even be used to manipulate a Fay’s own heartbeat. Had you commenced training as you were supposed to, you would already know this.’

  Raegan didn’t understand much of what Max was saying. What was common time? If she could slow down or speed up time, did that mean she was no longer in it? And did that mean the people around her – civilians, he called them – still in common time, would be in a different time zone (if that was the word)? So in a sense she would be moving at a different speed to them. Like the time-slice effect in The Matrix, when Trinity did that cool float/kick thing and the bad guys never even saw her foot coming…

  A hysterical urge to laugh bubbled in her throat. Yeah, right - Raegan O’Roarke, the girl who could barely walk down stairs without falling over, would soon be kicking ass and cutting through reality like a character in science-fiction.

  This was nonsense.

  She tuned back in, shifting uncomfortably as she realised the full weight of the Praetor’s stare was now on her. His mouth was set in a hard line. ‘A true traverse can result in complete dominance over your enemy: physical violence might not even be necessary. Your attempt at a traverse, however, was incomplete. It was incomplete because you were out of control. Scared. Green. Unaware of your potential. Your training will allow you to overcome this.’