Left with more questions than answers, Alana figured the best place to go was back to the start. There had to be some sort of clue as to how the warlocks escaped the rift, it was just a matter of finding it.

At least, she hoped.

The whole temporal bounty hunter gig wasn’t all that bad, but every time she faced a trek clear across town, she wondered if the jail time would’ve been as bad as she’d thought.

The crumbling mansion that had been desolate when first she’d arrived was now teeming with agents. Far from sight she’d climbed free of her car, with an eye keen on finding the least watched path.

The last thing she wanted to do was end up in an interrogation for which she’d have no answers. There was no need for her to return, not when the team was gathering what evidence they could find. She’d be a mere interference, and beyond that, what she wanted was completely out of line.

Hence why, she had to act fast.

Even from the property’s edge she could feel the low thrum of energy that had pricked her with fear the day before. It still lingered with great strength, and though the ground bore a visible scar from the magic’s lash, many of the agents teemed in and out of the mansion itself.

Shit. She’d missed something, and now she needed to get in and look around with a bunch of power hungry assholes lurking around.

Wearing a tight-lipped frown, she bypassed the mansion’s front door and snuck clear around to the property’s backside. The back door was wide open, and as far as she could tell, no one was directly nearby. Across the open grass she ran, to the cover of the wall directly outside the door. A quick sweep of the immediate hallway showed no one in her way.

Inside she slipped, creeping along the uneven, creaky floorboards as quietly as she possibly could. Edging nearer to the din of voices, she flexed her arms and pulled her fingers back in a crack of her knuckles to ease her increasing discomfort.

“We need some samples from A1, all the way to the opposite corner,” a biting female voice ordered around the corner. “And don’t forget the residual readings.”

Alana held her breath as the nearest set of footsteps headed away from where she hid. The closer she could get to the rift’s epicenter, the better, but already she could feel the raw power it had left behind.

Just maybe, from here in the nearby dark corridor, she could find what she needed.

In an accidental brush against the wall, she was jolted with an electric current that could only be provided by magic. Somehow, the old mansion’s walls seemed to be absorbing some of the rift’s strength.

Dumbstruck, she settled the flats of her palms to the wall. That was all it took for her to feel the thread of life and spark of energy wind through her fingertips that felt so very akin to her own. It felt as if someone with her very elemental gift had weaved the rift open, and in a moment of startling clarity, she feared it had been her own, but hijacked.

Was it possible, though? Could warlocks harness the echo of a power left behind in the wake of a powerful rift?

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Alana’s attention snapped to the woman, the same one with the biting tongue and a seniority far above her own. Immediately, she flung her hands to her sides and fumbled for a good excuse. “I was sent here to investigate.”

“You were sent here for a preliminary investigation yesterday. So, let me ask you again, what are you doing here? This is a quarantine zone.”

“I thought I’d left something behind, I came back to check,” Alana outright lied.

Unfortunately, the woman wasn’t having any of it. “Do you want me to report you to the board?” The tip of her tongue flicked across her teeth in a moment of disgust. “Stick to your job, before it’s decided someone else can do it for you.”

There were plenty of timejumpers out there, but most weren’t as skilled as she was. Still, Alana knew when it was time to leave well enough alone. “Sure thing.” She booked it out of there in a rush, but was weighed down with a tinge of hopelessness.

That woman, and so many others didn’t care about her. They only cared about what she could do for them, what she could do with rifts. If it wasn’t for that… hell, jail probably would’ve been her only option. Instead, she’d been given a chance at life, just because she had a gift. Sure, it was in her favor, but it still wasn’t fair.

The shrill ring of her phone ripped her from the depths of her thoughts. With a heavy sigh she flung the thing up against her ear.

“Alana.”

“It’s Mason. Listen, I need you to attend the Order of Magique’s meeting at the end of this week. They’ll be discussing the essence left behind by a user when opening temporal rifts. It’s possible they could figure out who the culprit is behind the one you went in the field for.”

Alana’s throat constricted. “Could they really figure out who, though? Or just… the type of magic?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” he answered, leaving her at least a glimmer of hope, “but I’m sure they’ll explain it all to you then. End of the week, don’t miss it.”

“Right. I’ll be there.” Even though it was the absolute last place she wanted to be. One, she’d be forced to face Nolan again, and two, she didn’t want to be present if suddenly the evidence falsely swung her way.