Free Time Thief: A Time Thief Novel by MacAlister Katie Page A

shot of espresso and a puppy.’
What a very most amazing sign that is. I wonder what sort of puppy they are giving?”
    The sun was setting behind the mountain peaks when Peter arrived back at the small town of Rose Hill. He drove slowly down the street, this time noticing the composition of the town. When he had been here earlier, he hadn’t paid much attention, intent as he was on surveillance on his family. That had all gone bust when, while Sunil was off ecstatically chasing a butterfly in the woods, he ran into that redhead with the dogs.
    What a bizarre woman she was. Not at all to his taste, with her breezy, flippant way of speaking, and her attempts to pull the wool over his eyes by acting like he was the crazy one, when clearly she was playing some game with him. One that involved populating his person with annoying little balls of fur that had faces only their mothers could love.
    A horrible thought struck him. What if she was one of his cousins’ wives? He was annoyed by that thought, and then he was annoyed by the fact that it annoyed him. “It doesn’t matter who she is,” he told himself as he cruised down the main street, idly noting that it contained the usual mom-and-pop businesses, ranging from country diner to a thrift shop, a grocery store, and a motel that was located in what appeared to be a small, renovated church. “She’s nothing to me. No, she’s something—she’s dangerous. She belongs to them.”
    “Who is dangerous? Who belongs to someone? It is awoman in the forest you are speaking of? The popsy you said you saw?”
    “Yes, the pretty woman in the woods.”
    “Ah,” Sunil said, his light flickering in a manner that indicated great wisdom. “You fancy her, do you not? This is a good thing. You are without a woman, and men such as you should not be without a woman. My mother always said that women bring us much happiness.”
    “I don’t fancy her, and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. She’s obviously connected with one of the family.”
    Which was a pity, because he felt something inside him ease a little when he had run into her in the woods, a sense of something lightening, as if the burden he carried wasn’t quite as heavy as it had been.
    “Ridiculous,” he snorted, then remembered the way she had spoken the same word. She had a lovely voice, light and bubbling like a spring. Just like her personality. He could tell she was one of those light-and-bubbly-personality people like Sunil. He disliked light and bubbly. He had no time for it. His life was one of grim responsibility and darkness.
    She did amuse him, though. How long had it been since a woman had genuinely wanted to make him laugh?
    “I do not laugh,” he told his reflection in the rearview mirror. It looked rather surprised, to be honest. He didn’t like that, either, and added it to his list of annoyances. “I am a man who hunts down murderers, even if they are in his own family. I have killed an innocent man, and have had his animus bound to me forever because of my sins. I have nothing to laugh about. I scoff at laughter, and light, happy women with beautiful eyes and breasts and bellies. They are as nothing to me.”
    “You noticed the popsy’s eyes and breasts and belly? This is good,” Sunil said, his light nodding with the full wisdom of his twenty years. “It is the way of women that they tempt us with such things, although we must not touch unless so invited. This I have learned.”
    “I wonder what she was doing with Lenore Faa’s pugs,” Peter mused, half to himself.
    “I do not know the answer to that, not having seen the woman. Or the pugs.”
    “She must be one of my cousins’ wives. There was no sign of a wedding ring on her finger, though. Hmm.”
    “That is a highly most excellent piece of news. I consider it a sign of good fortune. You can pursue the popsy knowing that you will not be disturbing the happy home life of another.”
    The honk of a horn behind them ended Peter’s