The Novel Free

Hourglass





“Birdcalls?”

He’d cracked from the pressure.

“In case you need me.”

“The only extracurricular activities in the mental hospital involved stringing macaroni, and your average girl’s boarding school is more interested in makeup application than hunting techniques,” I whispered back. “Sorry.”

“Okay, can you whistle?”

I nodded.

“Then if you need me, just whistle.” He started for the lab.

“Michael,” I whispered. He looked back at me. “Good luck.”

Keeping my mind occupied took some creativity. After reciting the states and capitals, the Twenty-third Psalm, and all the teams in the American League, I’d started on the National League when I heard voices. Neither of them belonged to Michael.

I pressed my body up against the tree trunk. A man and a woman spoke softly, not quite in a whisper. I couldn’t distinguish if I’d ever heard either of the voices.

“You said you wanted to be with me.” The man’s tone was suggestive, silky. “That you’d do whatever it took.”

“I’ll do anything … but this …” The woman’s voice smacked of desperation. “I’m just not sure—”

She broke off. I couldn’t see anything, but it sounded like some massive making out was going on. When the heavy breathing started, I began to get uncomfortable, but I was saved when the man started laughing. “Soon. Don’t waste your energy.”

“Why do you keep telling me no?” I heard something unzip and thought I might be sick.

More laughter from the man, and then more zipping. Judging from the woman’s groan of frustration, I guessed he zipped her up. Hallelujah.

“There’s a time and a place. And this is neither.” His voice was harder now.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was shaking, and I could tell it wasn’t from the cold. Whoever this guy was, he was a bully.

“You should be. But I forgive you. Do your job well, and maybe I’ll reward you.”

“Whatever you say, whatever you want,” she said breathlessly. This chick needed a serious dose of self-confidence.

And a new boyfriend.

They walked away from the lab, deeper into the woods, leaves crunching beneath their feet. I stuck my head out slowly from behind the tree to try to catch a glimpse as they disappeared out of sight around the side of the empty storage building. Just then the door to the lab cracked, spilling light onto the ground, making each individual blade of frozen grass sparkle.

Michael called my name.

Hurrying toward him, I stepped through the doorway into the warm yellow light.

Chapter 44

Liam Ballard was ridiculously stereotypical. He really did have crazy Einstein hair, food on his shirt, and … a pocket protector. But if you looked past the outer trappings, it was easy to see that Kaleb didn’t get all his good looks from his mother. Liam was big and muscular, with the body of an outdoorsman. I recognized him as the man surrounded by fishing gear in the picture in Michael’s loft.

He extended his hand to shake mine and held on. I wasn’t surprised when I felt a slight shot of electricity. Not the same kind of electricity I felt when I touched Michael, but definitely a connection. His smile was warm and welcoming, his eyes very kind. I understood why Michael looked at him as a surrogate father, and I wondered if he had room for another child in his life.

“Hello, Emerson,” he said, his voice gruff.

“Hi, Lia—Doc—I really have no idea what to call you.” I laughed.

“Liam is fine.” He placed his other hand on top of mine, looking into my eyes intently. “Michael told me you’re the reason he was able to travel back. Remarkable. Thank you for your willingness to help me and my family.”

I was going to cry.

And then beg Liam to adopt me.

“However, once I get over the shock of your visit, I’m going to be very angry at both of you. How could you risk your lives this way, Michael?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“One always has a choice.”

“Well, then, I chose to save you because you’re like my father. And I wanted to.” The words should have made Michael sound like a petulant child. Instead, he sounded like a broken man.

“You can’t change the past just because of your loss, or grief.” Liam exuded the kind of gentleness only the smallest or the biggest among us could manage. “Our gifts aren’t meant to work that way.”

“It’s not just me. Kaleb and Grace … it’s not right without you. Nothing is right.”

A lump rose in my throat at the exposed emotion on Michael’s face.

He continued, “Landers has the files, and no one knows what they contained or whose names were listed, except for you. I only know about Emerson because … that’s a long story.”

Liam looked at me. I shrugged. “Apparently I’m a rule breaker.”

“The point is,” Michael continued, “you’re the only one who can stop him. And Em and I aren’t breaking any rules by being here. The Novikov Principle applies.”

Liam frowned. “Are you saying … I’m assuming there were remains. How are you—”

“I thought of that. We have a cadaver in the car; I need to go get it.” Michael held out his hand, and I pulled the keys from my coat pocket and tossed them to him. “Can we talk after that?”

“Oh, I can quite assure you we’ll be talking after that.”

“What time is it?” Michael asked, in an attempt to defer Liam’s wrath, I was sure.

Liam held up his watch, shaking it. The crystal was cracked down the middle. He pointed to a clock hanging above the door. Both hands pointed at eleven. “Do you need help?”

“We can’t risk anyone seeing you. Em will stay here and get you briefed.”

I frowned at him. “How are you going to get John Doe across the—”

“I’ll drag him. There’s a blanket in my trunk. We need to hurry, and Liam needs the rest of the details.” I gasped when he grabbed my shoulders and kissed me hard on the mouth. “I’ll be fine. Be right back.”

The door slammed behind him and Liam looked at me. I was trying to figure out why Michael had left so quickly, and to interpret the kiss.

“Novikov Principle, hmm?”

I gave my head a shake so I could get with the program. “Right. All I know is that it works because it doesn’t allow us to change the past, just ‘affect it without producing any inconsistencies.’ We replace you with the cadaver, and then you go into hiding, and the continuum isn’t affected because everyone’s timeline remains the same. Except for yours, I guess. But you didn’t have one. Because you were dead.” I winced and looked at him apologetically. “Sorry. Cat and Michael gave me the Cliffs-Notes version.”

“How far back in time did you travel?” He lowered himself onto a stool beside a long worktable full of lab equipment. “How long have I been … gone?”

“Six months.”

“A lot can happen in six months.”

I rested my elbows on the table. “How much did Michael tell you?”

“Not enough. Too much. We spent most of our time talking about Grace.”
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