Rocco woke to the sound of screams.  Yanking on pants, he grabbed the rifle lying next to his cot.  Caution made him stop at the door, checking for the direction of the attack.  Daylight was still an hour away, he decided.  The timing could only mean one thing.  The Sultan had arrived.

His heart beat a rapid staccato in his chest.  Searching the darkness, he saw nothing more than shadows, some crouching, some sprawled, some hoisted by ropes hanging from the trees.  A cruel numbness gripped him.  “Dead,” he murmured.  Stealth like, he kept to the shadows of the huts.  A sensation of futility filled his gut.  Without backup, he couldn’t stop the massacre.  Light flashed before his eyes.  Gunfire erupted amid the confusion.  More silhouettes crumpled to the ground.

“Where is your leader?”  The Sultan’s voice rang out above the screams and crying.

Whimpers coupled with soft pleas for mercy wrenched at Rocco’s control.  “Noooooo!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.  “Enough!  Stop this madness.  It’s me you want.  I’ll surrender if you leave them alone.  They did nothing to you.”

The Sultan slowly turned.  As he found the one he had come for, his black eyes narrowed.  “You are willing to go quietly?”

Rocco swallowed.  “Yes.”

“Sensible.  Logical.  Traitor!”  The Sultan stabbed the air with his beringed finger.  “Seize him!”

Guards swarmed Rocco, knocking him flat in the dirt.  He passed out for a moment.  When he woke, he found his arms tied behind his back.  “Don’t hurt them.  You’ve got what you wanted.  Please, let them be.”

“You are in no position to request anything from me.  I’ll see you hanged for the trouble you’ve caused.”

Perhaps, there was still a chance he could recoup some of his cover.  “My lord, I serve only you.  Have mercy on the people.  They are your humble servants.”

The Sultan’s lip peeled back in a vicious sneer. “Now, you compound your deceit with lies.  I’ll see you hanged for your betrayal.  Bring him into the firelight.”  His robe swam around his feet as he stepped closer. Stabbing his shaft at Rocco, he ordered the guards to string him up.  “Your people will see you die for your lies and dishonor.”

The commander spoke.  The guards obeyed.  Rocco was shoved to stand beneath one of the old oak trees sheltering the camp.  He watched as a fat rope sailed over the sturdiest limb.  Glancing at those who hung from other branches, he grimaced.  His one coherent thought proved telling.  He would never see J.T. again as Rocco or Jessie.  The pain of that realization seared his insides.  His lips went dry with the idea this was his ending.  What did he have to bargain with?

Sunrise was coming.  Yes, J.T. would be returning soon.  If only, he could stall long enough for him to get back.  One tear fell as he remembered the last words J.T. said before disappearing into the forest.  Rocco knew what he had to do.  “I have one thing to say.  How can you destroy the only time-traveler you have?”

The Sultan cut him a piercing glance.  “Halt.”  His eyes never left Rocco.  “Time traveler?  What are you referring to?”

Rocco squared his chin.  Sweat slithered down his backbone.  Swallowing the bile creeping up his throat, he lifted his chin.  “I am a time traveler.”

A hush fell as the wailing subsided.

The Sultan strolled to stand in front of Rocco.  “If this is a ploy to save your neck, I will make you suffer like you cannot imagine.”  Pacing away, he considered.  “I will require a demonstration.”  Flicking a finger at the guards, he pointed to Rocco.  “Cut him loose.”

The bindings fell away.  Rocco stood silently rubbing the rope burns on his wrists.  Glancing back at the slaves cowering in the misty haze of fog rolling over the ground, he nodded.  “You will demonstrate your powers to me.  I’ll spare the people in return.”  Turning, he paced in the other direction.  “Bring me the camera from the interior of the mansion.”  Slowly, the Sultan turned, locking eyes with Rocco.  “I know you remember where it is.”  The smirk held pure evil.

“Yes, master.”  Rocco’s chin lifted a notch past level.  The amulet burned his skin beneath his shirt.  As if to warn him of impending doom, the stone glowed.  Grasping the chain, Rocco took a step and another until he stood in the light of the new day dawning.

Bathed in the sunlight, he understood, no one was coming.  He was all alone in this fight.  Sprinting forward, he raced for the trees.  Static and sparks flashed in his peripheral vision.  The ground fell away as he surged into space.  Without the chance to discard his clothing, the material tore away from his body.  Soon, he came to a skidding halt inside the foyer of the mansion.  Lying very still, he felt the changes in his body.  The noticeable lankiness meant only one thing.

Eyes opened on a new day as Jessie sat up before rolling to a crouch.  Naked with skin burning, she walked straight into the room she used as a bedroom.  Early twentieth-century clothing hung in the closet.  The combination of eras had to be the Sultan’s work.  After all, the egotistical demon knew everything, or so he thought.  Wondering if the souls he absorbed had anything to do with his fetish for mismatched remnants from an earlier time, she pulled out a dress, tugging it over her head.

The flapper silhouette was one she could pull off.  Slender to a fault, her curves were slight.  Eying the reflection in the mirror, she winced.  J.T. had enjoyed skimming his hands over her slim form.  Her hands trembled.  No need in thinking of anything other than getting back.  Grabbing the broken camera as she passed through the secret passage, Jessie took flight for the camp.

Unable to stop, she tumbled headlong into a hut before righting herself.  No one saw her arrive, or so she hoped.  Fear over what the Sultan had done with the slaves chipped away at her courage.  She glanced about for the bastard.  He appeared in the entrance to her hut.  Looking for useful tidbits, she concluded.  He probably thought she had a stash of gold or diamonds.  She smiled to herself at the gratifying thought of his disappointment over finding nothing of value.

Now she became the stranger in a strange land.  Jessie stood to dust herself off.  The red sequined dress appeared worse for wear.  A fist size rip hung in the side of the dress.  There was another tear along the hem as well as a row of fringe which dragged the ground.  Did she have the courage?

With a deep breath, Jessie released the tension building in her shoulders.  The sun was waking up in the sky.  Birds joined in song amidst the treetops.  Squirrels barked at her as she stood her ground.  Facing the evil one, she squared her stance.  “Don’t think about the outcome,” she whispered to the niggling voice inside her head.  A flash of memory solidified her at that moment.  Out of need, you conjured Rocco.  Jessie, you can do it again.  J.T. potent features swam before her mind’s eye.

With her jaw set in a firm line, she lifted a brow.  Comforted by the fact she trusted J.T., Jessie straightened her spine.  Eyes narrowing, she made a point of glaring at the Sultan.  She could do this thing.  She could conjure the shift using the amulet.  Perhaps the reason she accomplished the task was inadvertent.  Perhaps deep in her head, she understood the power of Rocco as a defense against the Sultan.  After all, the fete had to come from somewhere.  Why not her own imagination?

“Well, now.”  The Sultan’s robes flapped around his satin slippers as he stepped toward her.  An ominous wave of dust drifted following his approach.

Again, J.T.’s roughish face appeared.  Logan’s herbs will complete the spell.

Jessie stiffened.  She had forgotten that part of the spell.  Too, late!  “Here’s your pathetic camera.  Hope you enjoy the screening.”

The Sultan’s brow arched.  “It has been you all along.”

“Yeah, it’s been me.  Rocco, Jessie, one in the same.”  Giving him a go-to-hell look, Jessie kicked the camera toward him.  “Your voyeur equipment needs replacing.  Ever heard of a thing called a computer?”

The sneer held contempt.  The Sultan glared at the camera dusted in dirt.  Silently, one of his guards swept forward, snatching up the camera before disappearing with the offending object before either of them could comment.  The Sultan’s nostrils flared.

She had hit a nerve.  Huffing out a breath, she jabbed a bit harder.  “I hate to be the one to tell you, but you have a mess at the mansion.  Seems someone threw a bit of a fit.  Your minions are going to be busy for a while with the drywall repair.”  She watched his chest rise and fall in slow, steady breaths.  It didn’t help.

“I’m going to enjoy punishing you for your deeds, my dear.”  His voice held a carefully controlled tone.  “No one makes a fool of the Sultan.”

“You – a fool?  How touching.  Almost as touching as the torture you’ve put the unfortunate people you’ve enslaved through.”  Tightening the reign on her resolve, Jessie made a clucking sound with her tongue.  “You are such a victim, Sultan.  I pity you, but not for the reason you think.”  Her eyes tracked to the nearby huts.  “These people have suffered long enough under your cruelty.  Justice is coming.  Mark my words.”  The slap stung her cheek.  Rocco would have smiled at the pain.  Grinding her teeth together, Jessie refused to give the Sultan any sign of weakness.  “Your day is coming.  Your number is up.  Better get ready, cause judgment day is around the corner.”

This time, the air crackled with the blow.  Staggering, Jessie righted herself, stretching to her total height.   This time, certain he had broken her jaw, she reached for the pain.  “I curse you.”  Her eyes burned, the tears falling unheeded.  “You will know the same anguish you’ve heaped on these poor people.”  Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.  The bright, copper taste of it hardened her resolve once more.  Holding up the small pouch she forgot was hung around her neck, Jessie tested the Sultan’s control further.

“By the breath of Merlin, I beseech the powers of magic.”  The leaves underfoot stirred of their own accord.  “You will burn in a fiery hell.  No one will sacrifice themselves to save you, not even your loyal guards.”  The wind whipped at the Sultan’s robes.  “I wish pestilence as well as sickness on all who follow you.”  Lightning crackled.  A gust of wind bowed the treetops.  The cloud of dust sweeping across the ground flung dirt in his face.  Shards of debris rained down on their skin and scrapped flesh.  “Before your end, you’ll beg for mercy.”  Lightning danced violently across what once had held a perfect blue sky as storm clouds covered the sun.  The thunderclap caused Jessie to jerk.

Hail pelted the ground in a stunning display of fury.  The Sultan’s guards threw up their shields in defense of the onslaught.

Barely able to see, Jessie raced for the trees, her bare skin crying out under the bruising onslaught.  “Faster!” her brain shouted.  “Shift!”  With speed born of the change, she felt the transformation begin.  Was she going to make the time continuum?  Grasping the amulet, she immediately released the stone.  The gold scalded her palm.  Crying out with the contact, she stared at her hand.  No time to look after a wound.  Soon, she would become the man.  Soon, she would travel to J.T.’s world.  How long before the electric charge of this world catapulted her into the next?  Tumbling forward, terror gripped Jessie’s senses.  She couldn’t stop the fall.  Would she survive?  The last thought came to her right before her world went black.

***

“Jessie?”  J.T. stumbled into the moonlight.  His vision blurred at the scene before him.  The camp lay in ruins.  Huts blazed out of control.  Ropes hung from live oaks with bodies swinging slowly in the sultry air.  Smoke hung heavy like an honorarium shroud for the dead.

Rooted to the spot, he did not try to stop the tremors that racked his body.  His chest felt as if an elephant sat on him.  “Where is she?”  Panic bound his words with unspeakable fear.

“Easy, vampire.  Here, sit before you fall.”  Thomas lead J.T. to a stack of sugarcane stalks.  Leaning him against the support, he dug in his bag.  “Here, take a whiff of this.”

“What, what is it?”

“Ammonia.  I’m gonna run this under your nose.  It’s strong.  Just a little.”  Thomas passed the small, brown bottle under J.T. nostrils.

“Stop that.”  J.T. shoved at Thomas’ hand.  “That shit’s stout.  Get back.  Enough.”  He waved Thomas away.  The smell woke his senses again.  “What happened?  Where is everyone?”

Thomas straightened.  Surveying the charred huts, he sighed heavily.  “The Sultan dropped by.”

J.T. glared at his companion.  “Why?”  With a hand, he shoved to stand.  “Where are the people?  Where’s Jessie?”

Thomas’ lips thinned.  “He’s taken them.”  His bare skin glistened in the heat from the fires.  “Hopefully, he transferred them to another camp.  No sense in destroying property, slaves being vital to the Sultan’s plans.”

J.T.’s legs ached with the lethargy gripping him.  “Taken.  But where?”  Like a drunk man, he staggered forward.  Slowly, he turned, examining the Sultan’s destruction.  “So many sick.  The bastard forced them out.  He has no compassion.  He’s a monster.”

“Yes.  Pure evil.”  Thomas kicked at a burning timber.  “Those who live will be forced to travel to the fields now.  He’s making an example.”

J.T. turned.  His jaw tightened.  “An example.”  Jessie’s hut remained intact.  Why?  A threat, a symbol of domination.  “He’s speaking through his actions, isn’t he?”

“That’s what it looks like.  I’ve seen this before.  The Sultan wants to make sure any who dare cross him understand he is in total control.”

Anger flared, hot and wild.  J.T.’s eyes glowed in the darkness.  “The bastard is in for a rude awakening.  He’s dealing with the wrong vampire.”  Fury congealed in his chest like a righteous cry for justice.  His nostrils flared as his blood boiled.  “It’s my fault.  I shouldn’t have left them alone.”  Swallowing hard, J.T starred at Thomas.  “What if he killed her?”  Glancing at the bodies hanging from the limbs of the old live oaks, J.T. felt the leaded sensation of loss fill his gut.  “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

Thomas reached out.  “No.  She’s safe.”

Like the small ember igniting into a flame, an inkling of hope surged in J.T.’s blood.  “What do you mean?”  His hands flung wide in a splay of disconcerted certainty.  “If she is alive, she won’t be for long.  He’ll use her, torture her to get us to back off.”

“He can’t.”

Thomas’ stony expression drew confusion from J.T.  He snarled.  The man made no sense.  “Stop with the cloak and daggers, Thomas.  This is reality we’re talking about here.  She’s in his hands now and won’t last long.”

“That’s not the case, J.T.”  Thomas headed for the hut Jessie used when she shifted to Rocco.  “Follow me.”

J.T.’s mind stalled at the glimmer of a chance she was out of harm’s way.  Thomas sounded like he had proof.  Well, he better explain and fast, he decided.  “By the gods, man, get to the point.”  He followed Thomas with tension singing through his veins.

Thomas entered the hut, standing in the center with a crook to his smile.  Glancing up, he pointed.  The hut is charmed.

J.T. shook his head.  “You’re making no sense.  I know Jessie’s amulet gives her the power to travel through time and shift.  Maybe, the hut is a portal or focal point for the transformation.”  He snarled in impatience.  “Get to the point, man.  We’re wasting time here.”

Thomas’ smile widened.  “Patience isn’t a vampire’s strong suit, is it?”

Waving the innuendo away, J.T. glared out of strained eyes.  “For the gods’ sake, get on with it!”

“The charm allows those who believe to see the past.”  Thomas glanced at his companion.

“Great.  But how does that help us?  I can’t use her charm.  We’re wasting time!  I’m going after her.”

“I can see the past.”

J.T. froze in mid-stride.  Slowly turning, he examined Thomas carefully.  There was more to this man than he had thought.  “You’re kidding, right?”  He blinked at the Cajun with the silly grin rimming his face.  “I suppose you’re going to tell me you can time travel as well.”  Positive the sarcasm would goad Thomas into denial, J.T. smirked in satisfied anticipation.

“Well, now that you mention it, yes, I can.”

J.T.’s mouth went slack.  “Keeping things close to the vest aren’t you, Thomas?”

“It’s the Navy way.  Loose lips sink ships, lieutenant.”  Thomas eyed J.T. as if expecting something.

Confusion reigned over the anxiety.  J.T. examined his companion carefully.  The man’s expression held more than J.T. could fathom.  What was he doing?  Taking a step, he shoved at the disconcerted emotions racing through his blood.  There wasn’t time for an old homecoming.  Jessie could be in danger or dead.  Time was ticking away.  “These games you’re playing are pissing me off, Thomas.  What are you trying to tell me?  Spit it out, man!”

Thomas stood unmoved by J.T.’s tirade.  After a minute or two, he blinked once.  Within seconds, the Cajun’s features swam in his face.

J.T. took a step backward.  “What the fuck?”  He reached for his sidearm in reflex.  The dawning came quickly as Thomas’ familiar characteristics shifted.  With insides coiling in denial, he watched Thomas become Luke!  The transformation took only moments yet seemed like the clock had stopped.  There was his commander from the war.  Their leader from Team Six was killed in a gut-wrenching conflict, yet he stood before him now.  The honorable soldier appeared as he had so many times in J.T.’s memory, whole and hearty.

“This is some cruel joke.”  J.T.’s hand shot out in accusation.  He wished for a moment he could level a weapon at the man.  He wanted to blow the vision to kingdom come.  “Good one.  You almost had me going there, you mother fucker.”  His gut seized as if a north wind had swept through.  A flush of adrenaline had him wheeling to leave.  “I get the picture.  You work for the Sultan.  This is his handy work, isn’t it?”

“J.T., wait.”  Luke’s voice came to him in the silence.  “I’ve wanted to tell you ever since you found us in the sugar cane field.”  Luke barked out a healthy laugh before walking toward J.T.  “I’m real enough. I know what you’re thinking, I’m the Sultan’s creation, more mind manipulation, right?  Well, here’s something only Luke would know.”  He shoved something metal into J.T.’s hand.  “Here.”

J.T. faltered a second.  In his hand, he held a small St. Jude's medal on a chain he recognized.

“Even if the Sultan saw you put it in my dying hand, he had no idea the meaning behind the metal.”  Luke’s hand shook slightly.  “Remember when I gave this to you?”

An old pain congealed in his chest.  J.T.’s eyes welled with tears.  “How could I forget?”

Luke’s smile held a small dose of sympathy.

Blinking away the bloody tears, J.T. felt the chain warm in his hands.  He ran his thumb over the symbol stamped in the pendant.  “Band of brothers, now and forever, is what you told me that day.”

“Yeah, and I also told you, no matter where you went, I’d always be watching over you.”

The words rang true.  It had been the day of his acceptance into the team.  A small, informal ceremony between the team members solidified their bond.  Without pomp and circumstance, they’d saluted J.T. with a beer.  Each member had given him a token to keep.  The meaning behind the trinkets was the point.  If he were ever separated from them, ever ready to give up, the charms were there to remind him each member had his back.

“Luke?”  J.T.’s heart filled with the knowledge.  “You’re actually here.”  He shoved at the emotions racing through him.

Luke reached out, giving J.T.’s shoulder a good squeeze.  “Yeah, I’m here.  I always have been.”

Words did not come easy.  J.T. shook his head.  “I don’t understand.  How?”

“The Sultan’s not the only one who can possess a body.  After death, I became a shadow walker.  Too much work still to do here, you know?”  He grinned a cocky grin.  “Thomas was near death when I, well, moved in, so to speak.”  He lifted his shoulders as he made the analogy.  “Besides, Jessie needed the help with the camp.”

“How long?  I mean, when did this happen?”

Luke narrowed his eyes.  “It’s been about a year.  I explained things to her or should I say, her alter ego, Rocco, when the transfer was complete.  As a shadow walker or ghost, I could sense Thomas’ impending death.  He had swamp fever or Typhoid.  Without vaccinations, the nineteenth-century diseases rock here in the Netherworld.”  His head cocked sideways.  “It was a simple matter of moving in before the heart stopped beating.”

J.T. rubbed a spot near his dead heart before he firmed his jaw.  Returning the gesture, he gripped Luke’s shoulder.  “Man, it’s good to have you back, but I have to tell you something.”

Luke responded with a reassuring pat on J.T.’s hand.  “You don’t have to tell me.  I know you are a vampire.  I have since the Sultan brought me back with him from over there.  Now, I have something for you.  Follow me.”