NOT AS PLANNED
1902—New York
Nothing had gone the way Logan Sullivan had expected. When he’d left Professor Lachlan’s building that morning, he hadn’t planned to end the day tied up in the dark, dank cellar of some rotting building, guarded by two guys who looked like they’d started shaving when they were eight.
The redheaded one was especially worrisome. He kept rubbing his fingertips together, causing flames to dance at the tips of them, all the while leering at Logan. It was like he was just waiting for Logan to make a wrong move.
Which wasn’t going to happen.
Maybe things hadn’t gone that smoothly. Maybe Professor Lachlan had been wrong about how easy it would be—about how his younger self would certainly be able to tell that everything Logan said was the truth. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if those big goons hadn’t caught him first, and it definitely would have been better if Esta hadn’t made off with the package Professor Lachlan had entrusted Logan to deliver; the Book and the stones would have gone a long way toward smoothing things over.
But he’d still had the notebook, Logan reminded himself. Once the Professor read about himself, he’d know that Logan was telling the truth. He’d know exactly how helpful Logan had been to his future self, and he would believe him now. Maybe he’d even be able to help him get back to his own time. Although Logan had a sinking feeling that without Esta, that was going to be impossible.
Footsteps echoed on the staircase that descended steeply into the cellar, an uneven gait that Logan recognized immediately. There. He’d been right all along.
Logan gave the redheaded guy—Firebug McGee, or whatever his name was—a smug look. It was only a matter of moments before Logan would be vindicated.
It was still a shock to see just how young the Professor was here, in this time. He couldn’t be more than fifteen, close to the age Logan himself had been when he’d received a ticket and an invitation to fly across an ocean and start a new life. His uncle, a low-level fencer of stolen goods, had been one of the Professor’s contacts in England, and he hadn’t given Logan a choice in the matter. To the thirteen-year-old Logan, the whole thing had seemed almost too good to be true: He got out from under the constant threat of his uncle’s fists, and the professor paid for his mother to have the house in the country, like she’d always wanted. And if Logan had to deal with a life behind the Brink or the headache of traveling through time or Esta’s smart-ass tendencies, it had been worth it for the comfortable life and for the respect the Professor had given him.
But this boy wasn’t yet the man the Professor would become. The Professor’s younger face didn’t even have a shadow of hair on it, and the eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses, while familiar, were clear of the cloudy cataracts that would haunt him in the future. Still, there was the same uncanny knowledge in his eyes, the spark of intelligence that had let Logan know the very first time they’d met that the old man wasn’t to be messed with.
It will be fine.
“Leave us.” The boy who would one day become the Professor made it to the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of Logan, eyeing him with a familiar expression.
“You sure, Nibs?” the redhead asked, snapping the fire between his fingers as he watched Logan uneasily. “I can stay, just in case.”
The Professor turned on the redhead. “You think I can’t handle myself?” he asked in a voice like acid.
The fire on the redhead’s fingertips went out. “I just thought—”
“We’d be in trouble if I depended on you to do the thinking, Mooch. But I don’t. I depend on you to do what I ask, when I ask it. And I’m asking you to leave me with our prisoner. I’ll deal with him myself.”
“Right, Nibs. Sorry.” Mooch cut Logan another threatening look, but he took himself up the steps, leaving Logan with the younger version of his friend and mentor.
“So,” Logan said after a long beat of uneasy silence. He was unsure of where to start. The man this boy would become had been like a father to Logan. He’d taken Logan under his wing and taught him everything he knew, but the boy in front of him was a stranger. “They call you Nibs?”
“Only those who don’t know better.” The Professor’s nostrils flared slightly, just as they had every time Logan or Esta had managed to do something to piss him off. It was eerie to see the action on this younger boy’s face. “You can call me James, since I assume we know each other.”
“Then you read the notebook,” Logan asked, still too nervous to feel relief.
“I did.” The Professor—James—leaned on the silver-topped cane. “It’s quite an object you brought me. Too fantastical to be true, really.”
“You don’t believe it?” Logan asked. Unease prickled at the nape of his neck. He has to believe. Logan was royally screwed if he didn’t.
“I don’t believe anything without proof,” James said, pushing his glasses farther up his nose. “You spoke of the Delphi’s Tear?”
“It’s here, in the city,” Logan told him. Apparently, the notebook hadn’t informed him about the package of other stones. Probably a good thing.
“You know this how?”
“It’s what I do,” Logan said, and when James narrowed his eyes, he explained further. “I mean, I can find things. Or, I guess I should say that I can find things that are imbued with magic. I can find other things too,” he said quickly, when James frowned at him, “but I’m most accurate when there’s some kind of power involved.”
“What about the rest of the artifacts? The stones and the Book?”
Logan felt his chest go tight. “The rest of them?” he hedged.
“You were supposed to deliver them to me, according to the notebooks. If the notes in those pages are to be believed, you should have a package for me. If you don’t have the package . . .”
“I had it,” Logan pleaded. “I swear I did.”
“But you don’t now,” James said, looking more than ever like the disappointed professor Logan had known.
“Esta took them,” he explained. “She knows how I am right after we slip through time, and she took advantage of it.”
“Esta?” James had gone very, very still. When he spoke again, his voice was urgent. “She has the Book and the artifacts. You’re sure of this?”
Logan nodded. “She left me here without them, and then those big guys picked me up before I could get to you.”
“Kelly’s boys,” James murmured, but he wasn’t looking at Logan. He was staring into the dark corner of the cellar, clearly thinking through something. Then, all at once, he seemed to come to a decision. “It’s an interesting story.”
“It’s the truth.”
“So you say. And I’m inclined to believe you, but I have no way of knowing for sure. You could have used the Book to deceive me.”
“I didn’t,” Logan said, feeling again the itch of panic. “You have to believe me.”
“Actually, I don’t. Which presents a problem—for you, at least.” He adjusted his grip on the head of his cane, a movement that was as much a threat as his words.
“Let me prove it to you,” Logan begged.
“How?” James asked. “What more proof could you possibly offer?”
“Let me find the Delphi’s Tear—the ring. It’s close. I know it is. I’ll find it and give it to you, and then you’ll know I’m not hiding anything.”
The boy’s expression didn’t betray even a flicker of interest. “You’re sure that you know where it is?”
“Not exactly,” Logan said. “But I could take you to it.”
James considered the offer. “Mooch!” he shouted, his voice bellowing louder than Logan would have expected from such a slightly built boy.
“Yeah, Nibs?” The redhead appeared at the top of the steps with a speed that told Logan he’d been waiting.
“Bring Jacob and Werner and come down here.”
That wasn’t the reaction Logan wanted. While James watched the steps expectantly, Logan tested the ropes on his hands. If he could loosen them, maybe he could wiggle free. But the ropes were as tight now as they had been when Mooch first tied them, and before he could do anything, the three larger boys had come down the steps and were waiting for further orders.
“You wanted our help?” the sandy-haired one asked, and Logan gasped as he felt the air pressed from his chest.
“Not yet, Werner,” James said, his gaze on Logan. “We need him alive . . . for now.”