8. Tempi

CHAPTER 8

TEMPI

T he magic portals have thankfully avoided me long enough to drive across town and end up in front of one of the local community colleges. It had taken me about an hour to reach it thanks to traffic, but I finally made it. Now, I stand in front of La Llorona and stare up at the run-down buildings before me. As far as community colleges go, this one is in far more disrepair than I've ever seen. The brick is tagged to hell, and the pathways are relatively overgrown. Still, students walk to and from class, their threadbare bags clearly marking this place as lower on the government totem pole. What a shame. Clearly this place has plenty of promise if the number of students is to be believed.

I glance at the sticky note I'd written the classroom down on. The person I'd spoken to said the Professor has class today, but after that, he'll be in his office for open hour. It should be open hour right now.

Following the directions I'm able to pull up on my new replacement phone, I find myself standing in front of a building that looks like it was built in the sixties and has never been touched again. The brick is that weird pea gravel mixture everyone thought was a good look and half of that is crumbling off, leaving this weird potholed concrete structure. The doors open and close with students coming and going, so I roll my shoulders and step inside, looking at the labels in search of office 502. When I find it, I take a deep breath and knock on the door.

"Come in," a man calls from inside.

I push the door open, and my eyes immediately go to the man standing in the corner of the room, his arms cradling a large book he reads from. He looks up from his book and blinks at me.

"Hello. You're not a student of mine," he declares, his eyes slipping down my body in a blatant ogling that makes me scowl.

"No, I'm not. I came to ask you a few questions," I reply before crossing my arms over my chest.

"Questions?" He sets the book down. "I'm not being served again, am I?"

"Again?" I ask with raised brows.

He shrugs and grins sheepishly. It gives him a roguish appearance and makes me think he gets into trouble more often than he should. This man certainly is the kind that his students take a liking to. He's mysterious, handsome, and he speaks with a slight Spanish accent. "I make enemies everywhere I go it seems," he says and even I'm intrigued by the way he moves his hands as he shuts the book and sets it down on a shelf.

He steps from behind the desk and my eyes go down to the knee-high combat boots he wears. He's certainly not dressed like any professor I know. With the knee-high combat boots and the leather jacket, he looks like he belongs at a rock concert more than a college.

"Anyways, what can I help you with. . ."

"Tempi," I offer when he looks at me expectantly.

He nods. "What can I help you with, Tempi?" He lifts his hand to his mouth and licks it before running it through his tousled hair. I blink, but he hardly reacts to it as anything odd, so I let it go. College professors are quirky. It's a fact.

"Right. So. . . this is going to sound weird. . . or I suppose it won't to you, could you tell me what you know about the. . . Merge Conspiracy?" I finish with a wince. Though I doubt he'll look at me weird, I feel like a psycho saying it out loud. Dios mío , I must really be losing my mind.

His eyes brighten. "Ah, you saw my name all over the web, did you not?"

I nod. "Professor Artemis Le Chat. Yeah, it wasn't difficult to find you."

"For good reason," he declares. "I want anyone looking into the conspiracies to be able to find me on the off chance they have information. You see, I've spent years studying merges, but it's only in the last year that they have run rampant and so inconsistent. See, before that, a few people would go missing every year. Maybe a neighborhood dog easily explained away. It was all exceedingly difficult to track down. In the past year though, guess how many have disappeared just in New York?"

He gets a strange look in his eyes that makes me regret coming here. Perhaps this was silly. Perhaps this man is just a raving lunatic. When I stare at his bright eyes, his pupils seem to elongate a little and I frown. Just when I go to lean closer, it goes back to normal, as if I imagined it.

"How many?" I ask.

"Ten thousand and twenty-three so far. That's the numbers that I can prove are linked to the merges rather than other nefarious reasons. There are always monsters of course, so some of the missing reports are simply from that, but this is the number I can certainly prove are linked to the Merge Conspiracy. Would you like to see my papers?"

He leaps onto his desk with a grace I don't expect from him as he reaches for a box high above. I jerk back, surprised, as he balances on a narrow ledge I don't think I could stay on for even a few seconds, and he's wearing the chunkiest boots I've ever seen. What the literal fuck?

I stare at him as he drops back to the floor with a thump and drops a box onto the desk. He opens it and starts passing me stacks of papers, speaking too fast for me to keep track of the conversation.

Oh, this was a big mistake. This man doesn't seem like he can help me. Not with the insanity clearly flickering in his eyes. Professors can be eccentric, sure, but this. . . This Professor Le Chat is giving me the creeps. My instincts are telling me to get away from him.

"And how do you know all of this?" I ask, interrupting his ranting. "What makes you think it's real?"

He laughs and flashes teeth with sharper canines than is normal. "My dear Tempi, I'm not from this world. Of course, I know it's real."

I sit up straighter. "What do you mean you're not from this world?"

He studies me, a grin parting his lips. "Ah, I see." He leans in. "Which world are you from, Tempi?"

"This one," I say, staring at him.

"And which worlds have you been to?" he clarifies. My hesitation is my answer. He claps his hands together. "Wonderful! This is wonderful news! How did you make it back? Where were these merges? What did you learn? Can you take me to this place? Can you?—"

"Stop," I tell him while placing a hand against my forehead. "Slow down. Dios mío, no puedo seguir el ritmo ."

"My condolences," he says with a grin.

"You said you're from another world?"

" Sí ," he answers. When I shake my head and laugh, he thumps me on the head, and I scowl at him. "Don't laugh at me, woman. I speak the truth."

"Prove it then," I command, glaring at him.

He rolls his eyes. "I've been trying to get back to my world for a long time. I have no way to prove it except to describe my former home. The merges, they seem to avoid me. I can't get them to open before me no matter how hard I've tried."

"Funny, they seem attracted to my ass," I huff.

Artemis perks up. "Why do you say that?"

I hold up my hand. "First, I got pulled in at the back of the taqueria . That one was pretty tame now that I think about it. Second, I got pulled in during work and nearly got eaten by some sort of monster. That one I was apparently gone a few days. Took myself to the psych ward for that one to make sure I was okay. Third, two appeared in my apartment but those didn't last nearly as long. You've probably heard of the missing elephant?"

"I have, yes."

"Well, Zippo and I got pulled in together despite being in different places. He went through another merge. I don't know where he came out."

"Africa, back to his family," Artemis says.

"Oh, gracias a Dios ," I sigh. "I was worried it was something worse."

Artemis tilts his head. "How do these merges present themselves to you?"

"The air sparkles first, there's a whooshing sound like a large fan being turned on, and then a blackhole appears that sucks you inside. It's like the things have their own gravity."

"Interesting," he hums. "So then, what makes you so special that the merges are attracted to you?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I admit. "I've been looking over my shoulder and waiting for the bastards to snatch me away any moment now."

Artemis sits on the edge of the desk. "Are you cursed?"

"No," I shake my head. "I don't think so. I did the egg to be safe."

He tilts his head in confusion but doesn't ask. "Was your mother a fairy?"

" Mamá was a catholic," I reply. "Wait. Fairies are real?"

"Hmm. . ." Artemis continues. "Fairy godmother?"

"Pfft. I wish. Maybe she could help me with affordable rent."

"Magic bloodline then," he declares.

"I don't see how it could be magic honestly. There's nothing special about me," I say.

"Your parents?"

"Like any others. Strict. Highly religious. Magic couldn't save them when their time came." In fact, they both died from different highly treatable conditions, but they often refused going to the doctor because it cost too much money. Mamá had a stroke. Papa died from complications with diabetes and refusing to eat right.

"And what of your grandparents?" Artemis asks. I snap my lips shut and Artemis catches it. "Ah ha! Tell me!"

I hesitate. "My mamá used to talk about my abuela with. . . well, she thought abuela was crazy, but. . ."

"But?" Artemis encourages eagerly.

"I remember stories growing up, how my abuela had a way with people. People used to go to her for. . . I think Mamá called them blessings, but implied she gave them cures for ailments. I always assumed it was herbal remedies and things like that. She died when I was little though."

"A witch!" Artemis declares. "That could explain things."

"No, no, no, abuela was strange, but she wasn't a bruja . She went to church every Sunday," I argue.

"So, no shrines?" he asks.

"Of course, she had a shrine. She was catholic," I counter.

He gestures at me aghast. "She was performing spells!"

"Superstitions, is all," I say. "Offerings for Jesús and family."

"One and the same! Tempi, the very magic that repels portals from me attracts them to you. What world was your grandmother from?"

"This one," I say defensively. "My family is fifth generation from México ."

"And before that?" he asks.

I blink, not really having an answer for him. I've never done the little DNA kits, so I don't really know.

"We all come from somewhere, Tempi," Artemis says. "Those of us lucky enough to be born with magic carry that burden." He points to me. "I'm willing to bet whatever work you do, you're damn good at it."

"I'm a paramedic," I answer automatically.

"Many people die on your watch?" he asks.

"Well . . . no. Not if they're alive when I get to them."

He nods in understanding. "Magic."

"No, just good training," I counter.

"You're using your magic to save them. I bet you have the best record at your workplace for lives saved!"

I blink at him again, confused, flabbergasted. "But. . . we're catholic . . ."

The air to my right shimmers and the sound whooshes through the room, sending Artemis' papers flying everywhere. He claps his hand together in excitement as the blackhole opens and starts to pull at me. I scowl in annoyance and fight it despite knowing it's no use. It's a really fucking inconvenient time right now.

"Then praise your god, Tempi," he shouts and grabs my hand, jerking me free of my hold. "Let's see what kind of magic runs in your blood, after all."

And then he drags me through the portal without waiting to hear my answer.

For some reason, I don't even fight it.

Not like I'd be able to anyway.