Page 28 of The Dragon and Her Thief
Kelsey stared at them before jerking her head in a nod.
“Let’s do it.”
Raven pushed back from the table and walked around it, coming to a stop next to Kelsey. Her lips curved up in the corner in a crooked grin.
“We’re doing this here?” Kelsey asked.
“Sure.” She placed her fingers on Kelsey’s forehead. “It doesn’t matter where we are. This won’t take long at all. Time in the past moves at a different pace.”
Her pupils dilated until there was barely any white left in her eyes. The warmth of her fingers grew.
Kelsey’s heart began to race.
“Don’t be afraid,” Sascha whispered. “Raven will pull you out at the right moment.”
“Okay.” The warmth continued down along her face and raced down her neck. Kelsey’s eyes fluttered closed, and darkness took her.
Blinking, Kelsey found herself sitting at a table in a dark corner. She jerked back in the chair and looked around.
Holy shit.
She was in the past.
Raven had actually done it.
She took in the old saloon. She assumed it was the weekend with so many patrons present. She bit back a laugh. She expected Clint Eastwood to walk through the door dressed as a cowboy.
A rowdy bunch was crowded around the bar. Laughter filled the air, along with the sound of a piano playing. Tables were scattered around the room, with men drinking and playing cards. Waitresses bustled along, serving up drinks.
Her heart raced. She had always been intrigued about the past, but never thought she’d ever get to walk through it.
Kelsey’s gaze landed on the wooden staircase that led up to the second level. She knew exactly what went on up there without even seeing the painted ladies leaning along the banister. Their wide smiles were seductive as they tried to entice gentlemen callers to their rooms.
Kelsey took in a familiar form that stepped out from one of the rooms.
Mythia.
She was dressed in a dark button-up shirt with the first two buttons undone, black pants, boots, and a set of red suspenders. Her hair was tousled and hanging down past her shoulders. She grinned as she walked past the women who appeared to be very familiar with her.
Kelsey tensed when two of the women tried to coerce her into going into a room with them.
Jealousy reared its ugly head. She wanted to race up the stairs and toss them all over the banister to get them away from her woman.
Her eyes widened.
Her woman?
She clenched her hands together to keep from bolting out of her chair.
This was before I was even born, she reminded herself.
Mythia finally broke away from the two.
“Maybe later, ladies. Someone important is waiting for me,” Mythia told them as she jogged down the stairs.
Kelsey grew worried.
Mythia was a black woman in an establishment filled with white men, and from looks of their clothes, it had to be some time in the 1800s.
