Hourglass (12 page)

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Authors: Myra McEntire

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Hourglass
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Chapter 25

I
awoke to the sun fighting its way through the slats of the horizontal wooden blinds covering the windows, close to claiming victory. The room held enough light to tell me we missed our early start back to Ivy Springs.

Too bad.

I’d spent the night in Michael’s bed. I wiggled my toes, grateful he’d at least removed my shoes before tucking me in—still fully clothed—before he returned downstairs to sleep on the couch. The boy had propriety on lock. I inhaled deeply, noting his pillow smelled as good as he did. I resisted the urge to bury my face in it.

As my eyes adjusted I took in my surroundings. Definitely not as posh as the loft, more college boy, but neat-and-tidy college boy. A blue-and-green watchman-plaid comforter coordinated with navy walls. His desk held a silver gooseneck lamp in addition to a sleek laptop like the one in his loft. An acoustic guitar displayed on a stand in the corner sat beside a well-stocked bookshelf. The whole combination felt very … Michael.

I gave in to my urges, turning my face to the side and deeply inhaling the scent of his pillow. A soft knock sounded on the door. Growing warm with embarrassment, I fanned myself for a second before I called out, “Come in.”

Michael cracked opened the door, grinning. “Hey.”

Waking up to his face felt extremely personal. Maybe it was because last night I opened up to someone besides a family member for the first time in four years. Or maybe it was just because it was him.

Or it could be the pillow thing.

“Shower’s through that door. Towels are under the sink. I’m going to check out the breakfast situation.” He dropped my bag inside the door and left before I could say anything.

I showered and dressed quickly, glad I always carried a travel toothbrush and makeup essentials in my purse. I returned to his room to find Michael sitting on the bed, holding two mugs of coffee. He scanned my all-black ensemble.

“Did you go emo and I missed it?” he asked, grin still in place.

I smoothed my hand over my shirt and said primly, “I didn’t know what the Hourglass was going to be like. I brought these clothes in case I needed to blend in with the dark.”

“You look like a miniature burglar.”

“Don’t forget I can kick your ass.”

“Sorry.” He wasn’t, really.

“I feel bad about running you out of your own bathroom,” I apologized as I took the empty chair by his desk.

“No problem. Plenty of extra showers around here.” I noticed his hair was damp as he held out one of the mugs. “Sorry, it isn’t a
Cubano
.”

“No problem. Caffeine is caffeine,” I said, taking it, pleased he remembered my preference in morning beverages, struck by morning-after awkwardness. I didn’t know what to say next.

He interrupted the silence. “There’s food in the kitchen whenever you’re ready to go down.”

“Sounds good. I should probably call Murphy’s Law, too. I can’t believe I’ve already missed work, and it’s only my first week on the job.” Lily was probably crazy with worry. Or convinced Michael had kidnapped me to force me to be his love slave. If only the answer was that simple.

“I already called. Told them we got stuck here. They gave you the day off, but that could have something to do with a girl yelling in the background that she would take your shift if you were still with ‘Delicious’?”

“Thanks.” I took a huge gulp of coffee and swallowed, even though it was scorching hot, focusing on the carpet.

“Are you ready to get back?” he asked. I didn’t raise my eyes, but I could hear the amusement in his voice. “Or do you have some time today?”

“I’m all yours.” It slipped out before I could stop it. “Er … I mean, I think I’m going to be in trouble either way, since I spent the night with you … here, I mean, spent the night here.” I stopped talking and sighed deeply. “I have time.”

Kill me now.

“Good.” Michael stood, his smile wide enough to split his face in half. “Because we need to fill Dr. Rooks in on who you really are.”

Chapter 26

A
back staircase led into a sunny kitchen with oak floors and lemon-yellow walls. Michael joined two guys at a table, but I stopped when I saw Dr. Rooks standing at a kitchen island with a ceramic tile top, slicing fruit. I’d never seen anyone cut through the tough brown skin of a pineapple so expertly. Thick pieces piled up, making the kitchen smell like an oceanside bar, causing my mouth to water.

“Good morning.”

“To you as well,” she said in her melodic voice, taking a fat orange from a bowl beside her. “Michael said you and he had a late night talking.”

“Um … I’m sorry you got the bed ready for me and I didn’t come up.”

She put the knife down on the tile and peered at me from under her ridiculously long lashes. “I didn’t even take it out of the box.”

My mouth fell open, and she laughed.

“It’s not like him, and I must say I was rather surprised, considering. But think nothing of it.” I wondered what she meant by “considering.” She grinned and handed me a piece of fruit. “He’s a special young man.”

Heat crept across my cheekbones. I leaned forward to keep from dripping the sweet pineapple on my shirt, holding my hand underneath it. It tasted even better than it smelled. I chewed while I struggled with what to say next. “That’s not … I mean, we didn’t … It’s not like …
that
… between us.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” She pierced the thin skin of the orange with the knife. “I thought what I sensed between you was rather strong. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

A paper-towel holder shaped like a bunny stood on the counter, ears sticking up from the cardboard tube, oversize feet keeping the roll in place. I ripped one off to wipe the juice from my hands. “I just wanted to apologize for any trouble, Dr. Rooks.”

“Cat.” Smiling, she went back to slicing the orange. “No trouble at all.”

She was so cool I almost considered becoming a physicist. Almost.

An argument erupted at the table.

“Batman wins. No supernatural powers—just straight will—the desire to right wrongs.” A guy with dreadlocks and soulful eyes speared a silver-dollar pancake. He had on a Hawaiian-print shirt. “All he needed was determination.”

“That’s such a lame argument, Dune. Superman, hands down. He’s
Superman
. Who’s better than Superman?” A boy with spiky black hair shot with neon green streaks shoveled in a forkful of the biggest plate of scrambled eggs I’d ever seen. He pushed his thick-framed black glasses up. “Unless we count the X-Men as one person instead of a team—”

“Hey, guys,” Michael interrupted when he saw me watching, “I hate to stop this scintillating breakfast discussion, but I want to introduce you two to Emerson. Meet Nate Lee and Dune Ta’ala.”

“Hi.” Good thing my cheeks were still red from my conversation with Cat. I felt like a beauty contestant, on display and awaiting judgment.

Nate’s mouth dropped open to give me a tantalizing view of half-chewed egg. Dune’s expression mimicked Nate’s—with the exclusion of the food. They weren’t looking at me, but just past me.

What was with these two?

I got my answer when I heard a female voice behind me. “Well, well. So very nice to meet you.”

I turned to see who could dish out such excessive sarcasm so early in the morning.

The girl from the picture.

I had a dilemma. I could find absolutely no good reason to slap the girl standing in the kitchen doorway.

And I really wanted one.

Her legs were ten miles long. Thin, but with curves. Lots of curves. Her face was plastic-surgery perfect, but I had a horrible feeling most of it was natural.

Or all of it.

She wore impossibly high heels and an impossibly short skirt, and her dark auburn hair was pushed back by a pair of designer sunglasses perched on top of her head.

Michael stood, stepping between us. “Emerson,” he said, his voice guarded, “this is Ava.”

I smiled, but I was pretty sure I just looked like I was baring my teeth. “So very nice to meet you, too.”

As we stared each other down, I realized I was being petty, immature, and unreasonably jealous, but any girl who has ever faced competition over a guy knows what it looks like when she meets it head-on.

I had a horrible feeling I was going down.

Twisting around to the kitchen island to take a section of orange gave me a moment to compose myself. When I turned back, Ava and Michael sat together at the table, her hand on his knee. I turned back around.

I’d squeezed my orange into juice.

Taking another paper towel from the bunny holder, I used it to wipe away the stickiness dripping through my fingers. Dune broke the silence with his deep voice. “So, Emerson’s moving into the Renegade House?”

“Just a day trip,” Michael answered. “Nate, close your mouth.”

“I thought you guys got here last night? I heard voices late,” Nate said after swallowing loudly.

I turned around in time to see Michael move Ava’s hand back to her own lap. She poked out her bottom lip, and I wondered what I was missing.

“Cat, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” he said. “Alone. Do you have any time today?”

“I do.” Cat’s forehead creased slightly as she looked from Michael to me, then back at Ava. “Let me take care of some things upstairs and I’ll be right down.”

Dune stood and pushed his chair back. It screeched on the hardwood floor, the sound putting me on edge.
More
on edge.

“I should go get our gear together. Water’s waiting.” He disappeared for a second before popping his head back into the room. “Nice to meet you, Emerson.” He looked at Ava and was gone again.

“Water?” I asked. “What does he mean by that?”

“Oh, just that Dune’s got some skills when it comes to aquatics,” Nate answered. “Legendary skills.”

“He’s got some legendary skills of his own.” Michael pointed at Nate. “Not only is Nate a mass consumer of protein, he’s—”

“Ah, let’s save the details for another time. As for the protein, I’m trying to build bulk. It’s not going very well.” Nate pointed to his bony chest and grinned. He unfolded himself from his chair, all skinny arms and knobby knees, and followed Dune. Leaving me alone with Michael and Ava.

She stared at me coldly before sweeping her hair over her shoulder and returning her attention to Michael. There was nothing cold about the way she was looking at him. “I need to see you. In my room.”

She
lived
here?

My stomach dropped. Now I understood Cat’s comment. She was surprised Michael had brought me here, considering Ava lived in the house. Last night I’d curled up on his lap and poured my soul out to him.

I’d been emotionally naked with him on the couch while Ava had been asleep upstairs.

And from the way she was looking at him, they were way more than friends.

Chapter 27

M
ichael’s gaze moved from Ava to me, lingering on my face, probably assessing the damage. “Let me get Em … erson taken care of. I’ll be up in a sec.”

Take care of me? Is that what he’d tried to do last night?

He was still staring at me when Ava stood up.

“Don’t be long.” She walked past me without a glance.

I thought of her picture on the bookshelf in Michael’s loft and kind of wished I’d swiped it.

Because I really wanted to throw darts at it.

I dropped into a vacant chair, crossed my arms and my legs, and waited for Michael to say something.

“Um … I guess I should explain.”

“Explain what?” A definite undercurrent of something unpleasant in my voice betrayed my light tone.

“Who all these people are. I told you the Hourglass did consult jobs and mentoring.” He pulled out the chair beside mine and started to sit down. I gave him the evil eye, and he put his foot on the seat instead, resting one forearm on his leg as he explained. “You saw last night how big the house and grounds are.”

“I did.”

“Dune’s from Samoa, Nate is from New York, and Ava’s from California. They’re boarders who came here to go to the school Liam set up.” He kept his eyes on mine. “Other kids go there, too, but most of them moved here with their families.”

“There’s a school attached to the Hourglass?” I asked, liking the idea but not happy about the timing of the discovery.

“Liam staffed it. Being educated by teachers who understood us was the only way a lot of us are able to get a decent education. Nate and Dune were asked to leave school after Landers figured out they weren’t going to go along with the way he ran things. That’s when they moved in here.”

I couldn’t fathom it. Never having to explain anything because everyone around possessed qualities as strange as yours. Not needing to make excuses to leave a classroom because a flapper girl from the 1920s chose to perform the Charleston beside your teacher while he lectured on the reproductive qualities of frogs.

“The place must be amazing.”

“Most of the time. That many varied abilities in the same square footage …” Michael grinned. “I’ll tell you some stories sometime.”

After meeting Ava, I didn’t foresee a lot of time with Michael in my future. Of course, he knew way more about the future than I did, not that he was sharing the information. “Nate called this the Renegade House. Why?”

“It’s his name for those of us who were booted out by Landers. Since we’re working against him, we’re renegades.”

“But Ava didn’t get the boot? And did the two of you hook up before or after you started living together?”

“Whoa.” Michael pulled his head back in surprise. “It’s not like that. I only asked her to move in a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, concentrating on keeping my face expressionless. “Well, then.”

“I mean,” he backpedaled, “she was still at the Hourglass trying to help Kaleb, but I didn’t want Landers to have access to her anymore. I needed to keep her away from him.”

“Aren’t you just a knight in shining armor?” My voice dripped syrupy sweetness, and any warm, fuzzy feelings left over from last night completely disappeared into a vacuum. “Wherever do you keep your horse? And who scoops up the crap it leaves behind?”

He hurried to explain. “No, no, no, it’s not the same thing as us—”

“Stop.” There was no us. “You don’t owe me the particulars, Michael. You really don’t.”

“But Em—”

“Don’t. Really.” I tried to rein in my emotions. I had no reason to be so pissy. If anyone had a right to be mad, it was Ava. Apparently, I was now the other woman—poaching in her territory.

Cat stuck her head around the corner, effectively putting an end to the conversation. “Are you ready to talk now, Michael?”

“He’s ready. I’ll go outside.” I stood and walked toward the back door.

“Wait,” Michael said urgently.

I stopped but didn’t look back. “What?”

“The thing I gave you yesterday … did you bring it with you?” he asked.

“You told me not to let it out of my sight.” I glanced at him over my shoulder. “It’s in my bag.”

“Would you get it and bring it down? And”—he paused, looking at Cat from the corner of his eye—“take your time.”

“Sure.”

I hurried up to Michael’s room but descended the stairs quietly with the binder, coming to a standstill just outside the kitchen door.

“Did you find her?”

“It’s more like she found me,” Michael said softly. I pressed myself against the wall outside the kitchen.

“How did she take it?” Anxiety laced her voice.

“She just found out a couple of days ago.”

“Is it like it was for Liam and Grace? The chemistry between the two of you?”

He didn’t speak.

“I knew it. I could feel it. Michael—”

“I never understood before, but now that I’ve met her …”

“Does she know?”

Again, Michael was silent.

I realized I was holding my breath. Did I know what?

“What’s taking her so long?” Cat asked. A scraping sound accosted my eardrums. I jumped and clutched the notebook more tightly to my chest.

I made coming-down-the-stairs noises and entered the kitchen, as breathless as if I’d been running. Cat stood by the table, and she practically snatched the binder from my hands, cradling it to her chest as if it were inlaid with precious jewels. The way she held it made me wonder why Michael had trusted me with it. Now I wished I’d understood more of what I’d read. I turned to leave.

“Em, wait. Sit down?” Michael gestured to the empty seat beside him. I stared at him for a moment. He pulled the chair out. “Please?”

I took the seat he offered, clasped my hands together, and put them on the table. Cat said, “Michael just told me what you can do.”

Her words sounded accusatory, and after the way she’d grabbed the binder, I couldn’t help going on the defensive. “I’d apologize, but I’m not happy about it either.”

“No.” She reached out to touch my hand, her eyes wide, full of amazement. “Forgive me. I’m … overwhelmed. This changes so many things. Opens up so many avenues—I can barely believe it.”

Too frustrated to listen to her talk in circles, I asked, “What kind of avenues, specifically?”

“You’re half of a unique pair. I’ve never met anyone besides Liam and his wife who can do what you and Michael can. That changes things for me, for my gift.” She removed her hand from mine and placed it on top of the notebook. I caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes as she sat down. “Did you have a chance to read the information explaining how it is that you and Michael travel?”

“I tried, but I didn’t understand most of it.”

“I’ll try to make it simpler for you. One of the many theories about time travel is the wormhole theory. Wormholes connect two points in space, like a bridge.” Cat opened the notebook reverently and flipped to a diagram that might as well have been written in invisible ink. She traced her finger across a line of equations. I wondered if I should be taking notes. “See?”

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.”

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