I hoped it would pass.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Calm down. You’re freaking me out.” Her emotions were everywhere, and they were making the pain worse. “I think I got a triple whammy. Your emotions, my reaction to them. Your fear now. You don’t need to be afraid; I’m fine.”
I opened my eyes. The afternoon daylight was gone, and her room was almost dark. “You’re not calming down.”
Panic. Loss. Emptiness.
She took my hands in hers. They were freezing. “I can’t remember. I know what you took, but I remember even less now. I just know it came out of my mind going backward. It was hard to make sense of it all.”
I cursed. I hadn’t prepared her for the blackness. I struggled to sit but could only manage to prop myself up on my elbows. “I’ll fix it.”
“You don’t need to fix anything right now. You can’t even sit.”
“No.” I gave up and stayed on my back. “Part of you is missing. I didn’t even think about the way it would make you feel.”
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“I hurt you. When Jack takes things, he leaves empty space. Pain. That wasn’t my intention, but that’s what you feel, right?”
She nodded and rubbed her chest with her hand, as if her heart ached.
“I’m afraid if I don’t give it back now, it’ll … I don’t know, dilute or something. I didn’t see what I took that clearly, but when I give it back, you should. I think.” I hoped. I rolled over to my side, facing her, and put my hand on her waist. “Come here.”
She scooted closer. A lot closer. Toe to toe, hip to hip, chest to chest. I had almost half a foot on her heightwise, so I had to lean my head down to touch my forehead to hers, but otherwise we fit together perfectly.
“After I do this, there’s a really good chance I’ll pass out again.”
“I’ll stay with you.” She lifted her chin and pressed her lips to mine. “Until I know you’re okay. Right here.”
“Hold on to me.” I tightened my grip on her waist. “Focus on what you see, and I’ll try to go slowly. Lily, this isn’t going to be easy. I think you’re going to feel it … like it’s fresh. Like it just happened.”
“I’m ready.”
I focused on the emotion and the memories. When I pushed them through my mental space into hers, they went backward for me, like a movie on rewind. Giving them back made me feel as if someone were scraping the inside of my soul away, leaving an open wound.
When I finished, she was crying as if she’d never stop.
I held her as close as I could and concentrated on not passing out. She needed me, and I wanted to be there. “Tell me what to do.”
“What you’re doing right now.” She shuddered. “It didn’t go backward that time. It was like I was watching it happen, like I was right there. I haven’t seen my parents that clearly in … well, in nine years. I look like my mom.”
“You’re both beautiful.” I tucked her head under my chin.
“And my dad …” Her voice caught. She turned her face into my chest. Sobs shook her body, but she didn’t make a sound. Tears soaked the front of my shirt.
After a few minutes, she stopped. “The emotions are so much clearer … the things I saw, I remember so many more details.”
“Like what?”
She lifted her head. “Feet. Shiny black shoes. Three men, and their faces. And my mom. She was trying to protect me.”
I nodded and waited for her to absorb the next memory in the chain, the one I didn’t understand.
“They came for me that day, Kaleb.”
I stayed silent.
Confusion, shame, sorrow.
“That’s why we left Cuba when we did, and so quickly. Because the men had already come to take me away.”
Chapter 44
I
held her until nightfall, watching the darkness weave a cocoon around us. “What are you going to tell your grandmother?” I asked, stroking her hair.
“Nothing.” Lily stared at the ceiling. “How do I explain what you showed me?”
“Tell her the truth.”
“I don’t think I can. I don’t know how she’d react, or if she’d be angry.” She rolled over to face me and I brushed her hair away from her face. “I’d like to keep you on her good side.”
“I thought she’d already made up her mind about boys like me. I’m a bad influence. A temptation,” I teased. “The apple, I believe you said?”
“You know … I never did get a bite.” She put her hands on my cheeks and gently grazed my bottom lip with her teeth.
I kissed her without thought or hesitation, tasting her without caution. Slipping my hand under the hem of her sweater, brushing the skin of her stomach with the back of my hand. Her breath caught.
“Too much?” I asked, watching her.
“Not enough.”
I missed her lips, so I went after them, sliding my hands around to her back, the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips.
I wanted to be skin to skin with her, so much more than I’d ever wanted it with anyone else.
I wanted all of her.
Lily touched me greedily, as if she were afraid one of us might disappear. Her palms found their way under my shirt, and she pulled it over my head. Her lips were everywhere—my neck, my chest, the fading bruise on my ribs from the night of the masquerade. The night I’d met her.
“You’re beautiful.” I brushed her hair over her shoulder, away from her face, watching her kiss her way back to my mouth. “Every single bit of you.”
I stopped breathing when she tugged her sweater over her head to reveal an ivory lace camisole. “You haven’t seen every single bit of me.”
I was a hell of a lot closer than I’d been five seconds ago.
Reaching out, I drew a line with my index finger from her bottom lip to the button on her jeans. “Taking your memories of that day feels so personal. Taking something that important to you away, and then giving it back, it was even more intense than I expected. It reminded me of …”
“Kaleb.” A skip of desire.
“You know, making love has always sounded so lame to me. Maybe because I’ve never done anything like that, either. But I think I understand now.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I didn’t think … you’re not a—”
“Um … no.” I kissed her again to soften the words. I couldn’t tell exactly how much that mattered to her. “But everything is different with you. I’m closer to you than I’ve ever been to anyone.”
She leaned over and put her lips right next to my ear.
“Get closer.”
I opened my ability as wide as I could, staring into her eyes.
She wanted this as much as I did.
When I didn’t respond immediately, she turned away. “I’m sorry. The timing is … so wrong. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t.” I put my hands on her hips, sliding her close, flipping our positions. I eased her back onto the pillows and traced the line of her cheekbones with my thumbs. “I only hesitated because I wanted to feel what you felt. Know you were sure about me. Us.”
“I am.” She slid her hands into my hair and arched her back, pressing into me. Tightened her legs, pulling me closer.
“I know.”
I directed every ounce of focus I had to Lily. I knew exactly how to kiss her, to touch her. Not because of her sighs, or the way her muscles tensed and relaxed in response to me, but because I was wrapped in her emotions. Everything I gave, she returned.
Pleasing her pleased me. I stopped the second she was unsure.
“Tiger,” I said, pulling away, “I’m not in a hurry.”
Her cheeks were flushed, her hair dark and tangled against the pillowcase. Exhaling shakily, she said, “I know.”
“Do you?”
She nodded.
“People underestimate the benefits of taking their time. Slow is just as good as fast.” I grinned, run
ning my fingertips across the exposed skin between her jeans and the bottom of the camisole. “Usually, it’s better.”
I saw the sadness in her eyes as much as I felt it.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Taking our time.” She traced the outer edge of the tattoo on my bicep. Her touch was warm. “I wonder how much we have.”
I didn’t want to think about that.
Leaning over, I kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Trusting me enough to let me in. With Cuba, your parents. With this.” I gently placed my hand just above her heart. “I know how many risks you’ve taken, how hard it is for you to trust me. Why do you?”
“I’ve watched you go from stumbling to sure, and you’re getting even stronger. You consistently take risks for people you care about.” She covered my hand with hers. “Also, maybe I’m in love with you a little. But that doesn’t mean I like you.”
This girl was a miracle. A miracle in love with me.
“I don’t like you, either. But I’m a little in love myself.”
“We’ll find Jack. You’ll take your parents’ memories back, and then we’ll turn him in to Teague. We just have to—” Light flickered across her face, and she sat up quickly, pointing out the window.
Shock.
Ivy Springs was going up in flames.
Chapter 45
T
he sound of sirens bounced off the buildings lining the corridor of Main Street. “We need to get out of here.” I scooped Lily’s sweater up and handed it to her along with her boots. “There’s too much smoke to see well, and I don’t like being on the second floor when I don’t know where the fire is.”
Lily pushed her arms into her sweater sleeves as she took off for the door. “I have to check on the shop.”
“Wait for me.” I shoved my feet into my shoes and pulled on my shirt as I followed her.
I felt the back of the door. It wasn’t hot, but when I opened it the acrid smell of smoke billowed through. It burned the inside of my nose. Lily started coughing immediately, and I slammed the door shut.
“We need towels.”
In the kitchen, she pulled open the drawer beside the stove and took a handful of dish towels. I turned on the water, and she held them under the faucet until they were soaked.
This time, we covered our noses and mouths before we went out the door. We hurried down the back steps, and I watched as Lily fumbled to unlock the back door of the coffee shop. “My key won’t work.”
She handed it to me and I tried.
“Something’s wrong,” I yelled. “It won’t even slide into the lock.”
“I don’t know. Go to the front. I’ll be okay once I know there’s no fire inside.”
We rounded the corner to the front of Murphy’s Law, but then we stopped dead.
The whole north side of town was on fire. Main Street burned with complete abandon.
Even from two blocks away, the heat pushed across the pavement with a physical force. Closer to the blaze, the asphalt became pliable again. The glass in storefront windows popped, cracked, and then exploded.
“How? This couldn’t have happened this fast.” Lily was shouting, but I could barely hear her. The roar of the flames sounded like a waterfall. “We would have heard something, smelled something.”
“Where are the fire trucks?” I took her hand and drew her close, assessing the situation. “I don’t even hear them now.”
“I don’t, either. Where did they go?”
“Lily! Kaleb!”
Tires squealed as Michael pulled over to the curb in front of Murphy’s Law. Emerson jumped out of the car and flew toward us at top speed, with Michael right behind her. She launched herself into Lily’s arms. “Where have you been? We haven’t heard from Kaleb since this morning, and neither one of you was answering your cell.”
“We drove down here to look for you,” Michael said, pushing down his fear, choosing concern instead. “And now … the fire….”
“I can’t get in touch with my brother.” Flames reflected in Em’s tears, and two escaped to roll down her cheeks. “This is everything he’s ever worked for, and it’s literally going up in flames. He and Dru both worked tonight—there was a party for the community theater troupe. Thomas always keeps his phone on him.”
“Thomas and Dru are at the Phone Company?” I asked, looking from Em to Michael. His frown deepened as he looked north.
Shock.
Em’s fear had become so familiar to me that I knew the second it came.
The Phone Company was on the north side of town.
“Emerson, no!”
Michael wasn’t quick enough. She’d already started racing toward the smoke. We followed.
The closer we got to the fire, the more something about it pulled at my memory. The base of the flames was beyond blue, almost an electric purple. The flames consumed stone and wood, burning both with the same speed and intensity. Only one person could make fire like that, and only one person could spread it so destructively.
“Hurry. Em hasn’t reached the Phone Company yet.” Lily pulled at my arm and panted for air. “Come on!”
“This isn’t normal fire.”
“What?” She let her arm go slack, but I held on to her hand tightly.
“This is the kind of fire that burned my dad’s lab. Jack and Cat did this.” Maybe Ava, although I hoped that wasn’t true. “Look around. Why aren’t there any people on the street? Where are the cars? This doesn’t look like Ivy Springs; it looks like a movie set, or a ghost town.”
Doubt. Realization. Fear.
I squinted over my shoulder through the smoke, from the direction we came. “Lily, look.”
No pumpkins sat on the street waiting to be lit for Halloween. Gone were the decorative pots of flowers and wrought-iron benches used to adorn the spaces between red maples and pear trees. The replica gas streetlights remained, but only a few were lit, and the rest was broken sidewalks and weeds. A power surge hummed, and everything went dark. The only light came from the fire glowing orange in the night sky.
Now Lily squeezed my hand. “Something is wrong.”
Very wrong. “I don’t think we’re really here.”
“What?” Lily breathed.
“I think we’re in a rip.”
Chapter 46
“H
ow are we in a rip?” Lily asked. “We saw the fire from inside my apartment. We even heard sirens.” “But we didn’t hear any more sirens after we came out of your apartment. And your Murphy’s Law key didn’t work.” I didn’t want to think too hard about the possible implications. We started running toward the Phone Company again.
“I’ve never heard anything about Ivy Springs catching fire. That would be a huge part of our town history,” Lily said, panting. “Especially with all the post–Civil War building that was done here.”
“If Jack and Cat started that fire, and I think they did, this rip is from the future. Only my dad and Michael have ever seen those. The whole situation escalates every time another rip shows up.” My feet pounded the sidewalk in time with the thoughts pounding through my brain. “Time has started traveling to us.”
Rips were having an impact on people who were alive. If that were the case, and Emerson ran into a blazing fire …
The Phone Company came into view just as Em approached the side of the building, the very place I’d first met Lily the night of the masquerade. “Wait!” I shouted. “Don’t let her go in.”
Michael caught Em by her upper arm. She’d been running so fast she almost lost her footing. “Let me go,” she demanded, trying to jerk away from him.
“You can’t go in there,” I insisted when we caught up. “Look around—this isn’t the Ivy Springs we know. It’s a rip.”
“A rip?” Em stood completely still, staring at the building. The Phone Company sign was gone, as were the usual impeccable landscaping and lighting, signatures of Thomas’s wo
rk. “What the hell?”
“A future rip.” Michael’s face paled as he considered the circumstances. “One we can all see.”
“Rips are tangible now,” I said, thinking out loud. A concentrated wave of intense panic pulsed through me. Coming from Em. “Does that mean we could change the outcome of an event, even though we aren’t really here?”
“It’s a possibility,” Michael said grimly. Defeat made his voice and eyes tight. He didn’t look at Emerson. “What we do now could flow backward or forward.”
Em broke free from Michael, shaking her head in denial. “If my brother and Dru are in there, I’m not leaving them. I’ve already broken rules. What’s the difference now?”
Lily reached out for Em. “Maybe there’s another way—”
“No.” Em cut her off and backed away. The flames were no more than fifteen feet away from the building on the left side, maybe twenty feet from the back, burning as if possessed, bent on total destruction. I felt a memory clawing at Em’s insides, tearing her open, so strong I had to bend over at the waist. “I know what burning feels like. It sears your skin, but it’s almost cold. Then there’s the smell.” Her nostrils flared. “You can’t escape it. There’s nowhere to go.”
In Emerson’s original time line, she’d been horribly burned in a fire, caused by the shuttle bus accident that killed her parents. Jack’s machinations, as horrible as they were, had saved her from that. He’d taken that time line away.
She shouldn’t be remembering it now.
“Em, please.” Michael moved slowly, keeping his eyes on her. “Don’t. They might not even be in there.”
“‘Might not be’ isn’t good enough.” She took another step back. Determined. “I won’t let them go. Them or their baby.”
The roof from the building beside the restaurant crashed to the ground. The vines climbing the iron fence on the dining patio burst into flame, and I shook my head in disbelief when the iron immediately glowed red. The glass in the French doors that led in popped, and the fire slid inside.
Too hot. Too fast.
Timepiece: An Hourglass Novel Page 20