Chapter 17

17

MINA

I had thought I'd experienced some long stretches of time before—with the RRP guys, with Ella in the hospital after the crash, waiting at the police station to be deposed, and each week since July when I went to see Brad Kirk and got on my knees—but nothing really compared to sitting outside waiting for Logan, with the Nightmare beside me.

AKA Mister Smoke, or Sylas.

Who seemed to have a sense of humor.

I guess he had to, to survive being cooped up, for decades at a time.

"So what do you do in the hourglass?" I asked him, without taking my eyes off of the tutor's front door. "Other than come up with dad jokes, I mean."

He was quiet for so long that I almost looked over at him again—but I was so nervous about missing Logan's exit I couldn't risk it. If I didn't know where Logan was right now, when I was this close to him, there was always the chance that he could lunge out at me, like a Jack-in-the-Box, and make me scream—or worse .

Again.

"Mostly?" he finally asked. "I'm angry. But I'll tell you a secret, as long as you promise not to tell another soul."

"Seeing as I'm dying in the next seven days, I feel pretty confident I can swear," I said, with a snort. The sun had definitely fallen—streetlights were popping on, porch lights too, and because Sylas was himself dark, it felt like I was talking to an echo.

"And I believe you," he granted me. "Especially seeing as I'll be beside you for the rest of those days, and I can help you murder people with a cracked skull or broken arm just as well as I can without."

"Lack of anger management, check," I said, spinning my hand in the air beside my steering wheel, for him to get on with it.

He gave a low chuckle, then sobered. "It's not just a prison for me, it's a kind of punishment. You see—while Royce doesn't like me very much, he does like to be prepared for my arrival. So he leaves the hourglass on his desk. Usually behind his monitor, where he can't clearly see it, except for a glance every few days—but I can see out of it the entire time." His voice paused then. "I can see the sun through the windows of his office, drifting through the clouds, but I cannot feel it heat me. I can watch the lights flicker on and off in the building next door, but I cannot feed from any of the people inside. I've seen thousands of airplanes fly overhead on their blinking tracks, but I can never take one—unless I make it crash."

I chewed on the inside of my lower lip, momentarily distracted from the cause at hand—and then my phone buzzed.

"What was that?" Sylas asked.

I knew exactly who it was—the only person left alive who would bother to text me. "No one."

I could feel the weight of his regard. "And you're sure you don't need to know what you were sent?"

"Did they even have cell phones when you were out last?" I asked, without giving him, or my phone, my full attention.

"I just told you I get to watch the world—and had nothing else to do, in fact."

My phone buzzed again. Fucking Brad. Trust him to text me at the worst possible time, on the worst possible night. As if going toe-to-toe with Logan wasn't bad enough. "I'm sorry, did you want me to cry for you or something?" I snapped at Sylas, whirling on him in the car to take out my frustration. "Because you also just admitted to mass homicide, again."

His chin jerked, and I twisted back—to see Logan Whitmore leaving his tutoring session an hour and forty five minutes early.

Fucking hell. We were in prime UberEATS hours, and this location didn't feel nearly as secluded currently as it had when I'd been casing it for the past few weeks.

"I think we should talk," Sylas said.

"Now?" I said, my voice rising in panic.

This was all I'd wanted—it was what I'd paid my life for—but I was frozen, with my heart in my throat.

"Yes, now," Sylas said, giving his fingers enough form that he could snap them—and outside the window I watched Logan freeze, mid-step. One of his legs was held up at an improbable angle and if the laws of gravity were to be obeyed he should have been falling forward, but he wasn't—and I realized there was a car coming out of the driveway further down the street that had come to a halt, and that the leaves in the trees had stopped waving in the light breeze too .

"No fucking way," I whispered.

"Pull up your sleeve and see."

I did as I was told at once, and for the first time since I'd gotten the hourglass mark, the sand inside of it was still.

"I cannot stop time, but I can slow it down so much that I can give and take eternities. So now that you have time to talk—tell me what you want out of this night, my queen."

I rocked back in my seat, finally believing him, catching a glimpse of the blue eyeshadow I'd put on in my reflection, and was instantly bombarded with memories.

"I—I?—"