I felt my eyes grow as big as saucers, and she stopped, closing the binder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get too technical. Here are the basics. The bridges can connect you to a different time, but they must be made stable and held open for travel to happen. This is accomplished by using negative matter, also known as exotic matter. Simple enough?”
Sure.
“What does all of this have to do with your ability?” I asked.
Cat was silent for a moment. “I create exotic matter.”
“Like in a lab or something?”
“Like this.” She closed her eyes, and then cupped her hands as if holding a handful of water. An inch above her palms, a swirling purple sphere appeared. It wasn’t solid, more like a gas, pulsing and spinning, giving off a slight mist. Everything else in the room went dark. I could focus only on the energy in Cat’s hands. I leaned forward, closer and closer, drawn to it in a way I couldn’t explain.
I kind of put a damper on the display when I leaned so far forward that I fell off my chair.
Cat gasped and put her hands together. The spinning ball disappeared, and the room was full of light again.
Michael leaned over to help me up. I was too shocked to be embarrassed or to respond to his touch. “Em kind of needs a warning before you spring things like that on her.”
Now I understood the superhero discussion at breakfast. The inhabitants of the house were discussing their fictional peers.
No problem.
“How”—I paused for a second—“did you do that?”
“Body chemistry?” Cat acted like it was no big deal. “It’s hard to explain. Science has always intrigued me, especially the study of negative and positive matter, wormholes, black holes …”
She’d just produced matter. Matter. With her hand. I could barely believe it, but I didn’t see any way the spinning purple sphere could have been a trick.
“Creating true exotic—or negative—matter is generally considered impossible. It’s a very volatile substance.” Cat sounded as if she were repeating a lecture she’d given hundreds of times. “Liam taught me what we could do by combining our unique talents. In the simplest terms, I opened bridges, and he traveled through them.”
“I believe you, about all the science stuff.” I waved the thought away with my hand. While I was interested to learn how she and Liam Ballard put all the pieces together, right now I was more intrigued by her personal journey. “How did you figure out you could do it—create matter?”
“I grew up on an island. As a child, I used to sneak out of my bed at night to lie in a hammock that hung between two palm trees on our property.” Cat’s dark eyes took on a dreamy quality, and I was there with her, hearing the surf rolling in and out, feeling the warm breezes soothe me as I rocked. “I would stare at the stars above me and wonder what it would be like to float among them.
“One night I dreamed I could hold a galaxy in my hand. I watched it form, felt it orbit, as if I created it myself. Breathed life into it. When I woke up, what you just saw was spinning in my hand as if it was meant to be there.”
“How old were you?” I asked.
“Eleven. I knew what I could do was special and needed to be tested. I learned as much as I could in high school, graduated at sixteen, and went straight to college on scholarship as a physics major. I volunteered to be a teaching assistant so I would have access to a lab.” She paused, her lips parted in a slight smile. “That’s where I first met Liam.”
“How did he know what the two of you could do together? The time-travel thing?”
“He had some … outside resources.” The slight smile disappeared, and her voice turned businesslike. “You and Michael haven’t talked about the logistics of traveling at all?”
“No.” Because up until the purple ball formed in Cat’s hand, I’d half hoped he’d made the whole thing up, so I hadn’t asked. Now I hoped he was telling the truth, because if he wasn’t, my hallucinations had taken a whole new turn. For the worse.
“Give her the ring,” Cat said, inclining her head toward Michael’s hand.
He removed the ring from his thumb and passed it over to me. I held it up to the light, and for the first time I noticed a continuous series of tiny number eights inscribed in the band.
“What does the number eight carved into a silver ring have to do with time travel?”
Michael took the ring back, careful not to touch my skin as he did. “It’s an infinity symbol, not an eight, and the ring isn’t silver. It’s duronium—a metal that hasn’t been identified on any periodic table.”
I thought for a moment. “So, if I’m understanding this correctly … our genes plus the duronium ring plus Cat’s exotic matter equals time travel?”
He nodded.
“Piece of cake. Not woo-woo freaky at all.” I stared at the ring on his hand for a long moment. “And how am I supposed to come up with one of those puppies? I’m guessing I can’t shop for it online?”
“We’ll take care of it,” Michael said.
“You do that.” I turned my attention to Cat. “Michael told me there were others out there who have special abilities. What kinds?”
“All kinds.” She tilted her head toward Michael as she asked, “Do you want to explain this one?”
Her tone indicated that it wasn’t a matter of who wanted to field the question, but more if it should be answered at all. More secrets.
“Yeah,” he said as he drummed his fingers on the table. “There are other places like the Hourglass. Not many, but others,” he said. “Some of them have certain … areas of expertise. They might attract those who have spirit-hunting skills or transformation abilities …”
I drew in a sharp breath. He trailed off, turning to look at me. As he shifted in his chair, the full length of his leg pressed against mine underneath the table. The fact that I wasn’t hyperventilating from such close contact was a testament to how overwhelmed I felt by what I’d just heard.
“I’m sorry,” I said weakly, shaking my head in case my ears needed clearing, “but did you just say … spirit-hunting skills and transformation abilities?”
“Bad examples. I shouldn’t have gone there,” Michael said hastily, standing. I wondered if the accidental touch made him get up or if the topic of conversation did. He moved away from the table to pace, twisting his thumb ring as he walked. “It’s not my goal to freak you out.”
“Too bad,” I answered. “Because that one was so solid it didn’t even touch the net.”
Swish.
“Emerson, none of what we do is easy or clear-cut.” Cat’s voice carried a hint of exasperation, making me feel slightly stupid. “Just listen to what we have to say, and at least try to understand. It can’t be that hard to wrap your brain around.”
Michael snapped his head toward Cat. Her spine straightened, and her irritated look disappeared. “I’m sorry. I’ve lived in this world for so long I forget how foreign it can look from the outside.”
Michael continued to stare at Cat, his expression so intense it made me nervous. She broke the gaze, and he turned to me. “The Hourglass has a specialty, too. Everyone there possesses an ability that involves the manipulation of time.”
I was still trying to interpret the look he’d directed at Cat, so it took a second for Michael’s words to break through. “I thought you said we were the only ones who can travel?”
“We are.” He sat down beside me again but moved his chair a little farther away. “But time as a concept is fluid. It can be slowed down, sped up, stopped.”
I thought of the most impossible, movielike scenario I could. “So if someone were shooting at me and I had the ability to stop time, I could pluck the bullet out of the air before it hit me?” I asked, laughing.
He didn’t crack a smile. “Does the fact that such a thing is possible upset you?”
“No more than any of the rest of it,” I mumbled, the laughter dying in my throat. I dropped my head into my hands. “Why is it I suddenly feel I
’m on the more normal end of the freak spectrum?”
“I keep trying to tell you normal is relative,” he said. “Do you need a second?”
I needed a millennium. “Can I … Can I do those other things? Stop a bullet?”
“All indications are that your ability is traveling to the past.”
“That’s enough,” I said, feeling a little better. Although stopping a bullet would be a handy skill for a girl to have. “So what about everyone else?”
“Nate is kind of like Oliver Twist mixed with David Blaine.” Michael wiggled his fingers as if coaxing a rabbit out of a top hat. “Thievery skills with illusionist abilities. He can slow things down, speed things up, including himself—all depending on his needs.”
“How did he end up here?” I asked, frowning. “That doesn’t seem like the kind of ability Liam would’ve encouraged.”
“He didn’t encourage it. Not for financial gain anyway. But there are other reasons to need stealth.”
“What about everyone else?”
“Dune can influence water. It’s handier than it sounds. Ava … well. She’s still trying to figure some things out.” Michael gave me an apologetic smile that faded as he glanced toward the back stairs. “Speaking of Ava, I have to talk to her. Then we can head back to Ivy Springs.”
“I’ll be right here.”
Seething with envy.
He disappeared through the doorway leading to the stairs. It sounded as if he took them two at a time. I focused my attention on Cat. “What are Nate and Dune doing today?”
“A consult job I set up. Dune can control things like the tide and the direction a river flows. It’s helpful when we’re looking for certain things, but it’s not something he can use very often. He’s also a research genius, which comes in handy …”
She continued, and I tried to pay attention, but my mind strayed to Michael in Ava’s room. What were they doing up there? She said she needed to talk to him. I really hoped they were talking. I really wished she weren’t so gorgeous. I really wanted to go upstairs and listen outside her door. I hadn’t told Michael when he questioned me the day before, but I had learned how to eavesdrop at boarding school. From the other students. Not the teachers.
I realized Cat was silent and waiting for a response to something she’d said.
“What? Oh my word, I’m so sorry.” I sat up, horrified, my hands flying to my mouth.
“It’s fine—I promise. I know your mind is elsewhere.”
“That obvious?” I covered my face to hide the blush I felt coming on.
“I understand the way it is between the two of you,” she said in her lilting voice. “It was the same way with Liam and his wife.”
“What do you mean? How was it?”
“Cataclysmic.” Cat let out a chuckle at my facial expression and gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder.
I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, slower than they had been going up. Michael entered the room alone, his face drawn. “If we don’t leave soon, your brother’s going to send out a search party.”
“Considering I haven’t talked to him since yesterday, it might include torches and pitchforks.”
“You ready?” He looked toward the back door. “I want to get out of here.”
“Let’s go.”
It seemed as if there was trouble in paradise.
I could only hope.
Chapter 28
I dropped Michael off at his car, and we planned to meet at Murphy’s Law once we got back to Ivy Springs. I owed Lily an explanation. Before going into the coffee shop I checked my voice mail. Seven messages from Thomas.
My ass was grass, and big brother was the lawn mower.
I parked and crossed the town square, trying to figure out what in the world I was going to say to Lily. I paused outside Murphy’s Law to try to come up with a good story. Or at least a decent lie.
Through the plate-glass window I could see her leaning against the counter, staring off into space. Her fingers held a pencil that moved at a furious pace across a pad of paper. I opened the front door and the jangling bell caught her attention. She shoved the pencil and drawing into her apron pocket and put her hands on her hips.
“Girl.”
The emphasis she placed on the word asked a hundred questions at once.
“It’s not what you think,” I said defensively.
“Then I’m very disappointed for you.”
That made two of us. “I haven’t been with him since he picked me up here! Last night, I had to go out for … something, and I ran into Michael and it got late and we lost track of time and—”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” She took the dishrag from her shoulder and began polishing the counter needlessly. “Your secrets are yours to keep.”
“Lily, please.” I reached out and pulled the cloth from her hand. “I’m not trying to keep anything from you. This … thing … with Michael is more than complicated. Please believe me.”
“It’s okay. I understand. But you have to throw me a bone and tell me if the personality is as hot as the package.”
I gave her a slow grin before faking a heart attack, clutching my chest, and backing up a few steps. Falling against the counter, I slid to the floor, twitched a couple of times for effect, and then burst into giggles.
“You are not right,” Lily said, but she laughed as she pulled me to my feet. I handed her the dishrag and reached behind her for a to-go coffee cup. I was starting to drag after the long night. Being around Michael kept my energy up, and now that he wasn’t close to me it felt like I was coming down from an adrenaline high.
“Can I talk to you seriously for a sec?” I pulled the lever on the coffee machine that dispensed the bold blend, inhaling deeply when the liquid began to fill my cup.
“What’s up?”
“Do you ever wonder what your life would be like now, if your parents were here instead of in Cuba?”
“Yes.” She pulled up the bar stools she kept behind the counter in case things were slow and she had a moment to sit. “All the time. Are you wondering what it would be like if yours were still alive?”
“I am.” I clambered onto my stool. Lily and her long legs made everything look so effortless. I practically needed a stepladder. “I wonder about the whole depression thing, too. If the accident never happened, if my parents had been there for me to lean on—would I have been able to handle everything better than I did?”
“You’ll never know. And you can’t go back in time. No one can.”
I didn’t see any point in correcting her.
“The thing is, Em, you don’t know if you struggled with the depression because of your circumstances or if it’s a chemical thing. You might have to deal with it again. So you do everything you can to keep yourself well, whether that means meds or counseling or … whatever.” She threw up her hands. “Vigorous exercise … I don’t know.”
We both laughed. Lily knew I didn’t like to talk about my depression, but whenever we did, she always made a tremendous effort to affirm me, and my choices. Another reason to love her.
“What do you think about the supernatural?”
She frowned. “You mean like werewolves or ghosts?”
“Maybe, but more like superhero stuff—special abilities like mind reading or precognition.”
Or manipulating time.
Raising one eyebrow skeptically, she asked, “Did you walk away from your drink last night? Did somebody slip you something?”
“Lily, I’m serious.”
She chewed the nail of her pinky finger, silent for a moment, frowning. “I don’t have an opinion.”
“You have to have an opinion,” I argued. “Are you really going to tell me you haven’t ever thought about it?”
“No, I haven’t. And I really don’t want to think about it now,” she said firmly.
“Hey, it’s cool.” I’d never seen Lily react that way to a simple question. “I just wondered.”
br /> “When do you see Delicious again?” Lily shifted on her stool, folding the cloth in her hands in half.
“He’s going to meet me here so we can go talk to Thomas. He wasn’t very happy his little sis spent the night out.”
“Does your brother have a gun? If so, get Delicious a bulletproof vest. That boy is way too pretty to have a big hole in him.”
“No,” I said, laughing at the thought of my straightlaced brother with a firearm. “Thomas doesn’t have a gun. I’m sure everything will be fine once we explain.”
At least I hoped it would.
“Explain about how you just lost track of time,” Lily said. “Right?”
“Um … right.”
I had been keeping my own counsel for years. I didn’t know what it was like to truly confide everything in a friend, and here I was, wishing I could tell Lily all of it. There were too many secrets in my life.
The bell jangled again as someone entered the coffee shop. I knew it was Michael when my energy level jumped ten notches. He walked up to the counter, smiling at Lily.
“Michael,” I said, “this is Lilliana Garcia.”
Lily, usually articulate and poised—the perfect example of grace—just sat on her stool and giggled.
“Nice to meet you, Lilliana.”
“Call me Lily.” Her voice did the Marilyn Monroe thing, and I wondered if Michael had that effect on every girl he met.
“Nice to meet you, Lily.” He flashed another smile, and I heard her whimper under her breath. When he looked at me, his expression softened. “Em, you ready to face the music?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Lily stared at Michael as if she would scale Mount Everest and swim the English Channel if he asked. I snapped to get her attention. “Lily? Lily? ”
“Yes?” She dragged her eyes away from him and cleared her throat before she spoke. The husky voice was wasted on me anyway. “Yes?”