Black Legacy (Black Opals 1)

But here on earth, in the year 2010 it was still very much a stark reality.

“Do you got change?”

The man’s voice was harsh, and his mouth showed huge gaps where teeth were missing. He came closer still, and Frankie stepped back as the stench became almost unbearable.

She rummaged through her pack, finding the currency she’d tucked away. Grabbing some paper bills she shoved them in front of his face, watching the eyes dilate in surprise. Glancing at the monetary amounts Frankie shrugged. Guess one hundred units was a lot to such a soul, and her fingers held two of them.

He grabbed for the money but she stepped back. “Dekkar James? Do you know where I can find him?”

The man’s bony hand extended but not towards her, he was pointing to something behind her and Frankie spun around quickly, her eyes shifting upwards at a moving billboard.

A man’s visage stared down at her. Blue-black spiky hair shot out and haloed rugged features. The nose looked as if it’d been broken a few times, the chin square and strong, but the mouth…it made hers water. The lips were full and seemed out of place on such a masculine face. He was not so much smiling as smirking down at the masses. Straight, even white teeth tempted her. She wished she could see his eyes, but they were covered by dark glasses.

The picture moved suddenly, and hands drew the glasses away as the man smiled rakishly down at her.

Crystal green eyes pierced the gloom, striking a chord within her that sharpened her senses. Instantly Frankie’s nipples hardened and an ache formed deep inside her pussy.

The man was magnificent. His name flashed in garish red. Dekkar James appearing tonight only, Madison Square Garden.

So…this was Dekkar James. Frankie let the smile that had been tugging at her mouth fall wide, and she licked her lips in anticipation. Her belly did a little flip as she continued to stare up at him.

The man was the total opposite of every single male she’d encountered over the past six months. There was a sensuality that lit his eyes and caressed his mouth that was raw, real, a friction that would never be accepted on a planet like Babylon. She had a feeling Dekkar James lived life on the edge and rode it hard, not caring about consequence or duty.

He was perfectly…imperfect.

She turned back to the sad sort standing expectantly behind her, and holding her breath, placed the paper units in his palm. The eyes were glazed over, and sadly Frankie knew the man would most likely use the funds to buy an illegal substance that he’d use to help dull the pain of living.

She sighed, not liking the fact she was fueling his addiction, but she needed information.

He tried to step away, but her hands prevented him from moving. “Where is Madison Square Garden?”

Once she’d gathered the necessary intel, Frankie quickly moved out of the darkness and into a world straight out of the pages of her long-forgotten history books.

It was loud, chaotic and electric. Exactly as she imagined it would be.

She’d arrived in a back alley off of Thirty-First Street, an

d she quickly made her way up towards Seventh. The venue she was looking for was straight ahead, and her eyes scanned a large number of people surrounding the building.

Echoes of a heavy beat were somewhat muffled, but audible enough that she could feel the pulse of it deep inside her chest. It struck a chord within her, and Frankie felt her heart speed up as something foreign wove its way through her veins.

In her time, three hundred years in the future, music was sedate, nondescript. She’d never understood her older sister’s love of melody—she’d rather be out working on her faded Harley. But this… The beat alone felt as it were a part of her and the pulse that flew through her body, settled, heavy and wonderfully charged…right between her legs.

She groaned inwardly at the hedonistic sensations that assaulted her. But there was no helping it. Something about this night, this music called to her and she felt her breath quicken in anticipation, because something big was about to go down.

And Dekkar James was at the heart of it all.

Clenching her teeth, Frankie willed herself to focus. Shouts and screams of delight cut through the solid concrete of the building, weaving its way out through tiny cracks. Excitement was in the air and approaching quickly as a mass exodus began to leave the Gardens.

The event was obviously over, and a sense of urgency crept through Frankie as she hitched up her bag, surveying the scene before her.

Her fingers grabbed the opal at her breast, and she closed her eyes, attempting to see where her target was. Sometimes it was an easy exercise, but with all the human bodies milling about, and the carnival atmosphere, she knew it wouldn’t be so simple.

The sounds and energy faded away as Frankie concentrated. She had a much clearer picture of his face in her mind thanks to the billboard, but even so there were just too many bodies, and she shook her head in frustration.

A sharp jab in the side sent her careening, and she whipped around, her fist flying as she took up an aggressive stance. A petite woman clad in leather arched painfully thin eyebrows and waved dagger like scarlet fingernails at her in obvious dismissal. She was deathly white, with a slash of bright red lips, exaggerated makeup and tattoos covered most of her exposed flesh. Which was a considerable amount.

“Dude, chill.”