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A trace of amusement colors his voice while his expression remains placid. “You could say I’m a concerned citizen, worried about the trend of murders lately.”
I scrunch my face in confusion. “What does that have to do with me?”
He studies me for a long moment in silence. So long, in fact, that it has me itching to fidget beneath his gaze. “Only you can determine that.” An icy hardness bleeds into his tone. “You need to figure out how to stop it.”
His voice drops to something low and menacing. “If you, after all this time, even want to.”
I roll my eyes. “Can you not speak in riddles?”
He strolls over to the rear bumper of the vehicle while I remain near the front. “I led him to you, you know.”
When he traces a finger over the dented chrome, something about the gentle way he strokes the vehicle has my eyes transfixed to the movement. The instant his finger goes transparent, I blink, certain my eyes are playing tricks on me.
Holy shit. My gaze collides with his pale one. He’s the guy Daniel mentioned who can go invisible.
“You seem surprised.” He tips his head to the side, assessing me. “Didn’t he tell you about me?”
“He did.” I blow out a breath. “I just didn’t really believe him.”
“You didn’t believe him.” His frown is more than a touch condescending. “You…a woman who can stop time?”
It feels as though every drop of blood leaves my face, rendering me lightheaded. How does he know that?
“I’ve been aware of your ability for some time now.” His unsettling eyes rake over me, his gaze hardening incrementally. “I’ve stood by, knowing I’m not supposed to intervene and disrupt the timeline. But you…” His stare bores a hole in me. “You refuse to make things right.”
Being spoken to in constant riddles has my temper flaring. “What the hell are you even talking about?”
Abruptly, he edges back from the vehicle the same instant the side door opens and Annalee stands at the threshold.
“Everythin’ okay?” She tosses a worried glance around the garage. “Thought I heard you talkin’ to someone. You sounded upset.”
“I was just—” My words halt because the man has disappeared. Jerking my attention back to her, I shrug. “I was getting a little frustrated and talking to myself. Didn’t realize I was that loud.”
“Oh. Well…I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ll let you get back to work.”
I wait for the door to close before I scan the garage. A moment later, he materializes right before my eyes, but now he stands against one of the large tool chests.
“That is not cool,” I hiss at him.
“It’s ironic, don’t you think?” He completely ignores my little outburst. “The woman who can stop time is running out of it. You’ll either stop the behavior or continue it.
“But if you continue on this path?” He shakes his head like a disapproving parent. “You won’t come out with any semblance of yourself left.”
His voice lowers, each word acting like acid on my skin, creating a caustic burn that seeps through to the bone. “It will consume every part of you.”
I scowl, still not understanding a damn bit of what he’s saying. My tone is ripe with aggravation. “What are you even saying?”
He spins around and walks away, his black shoes plodding in even, steady steps. I gawk at him, because What the fuck?
He draws to a stop outside the garage bay door, turning his head to peer at me. “Mackenzie. Eleanor. It doesn’t matter who does it, as long as somebody puts in the work to fix this, once and for all.”
The way he peers off in the distance sends an ominous premonition washing over me, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. “Before it’s too late.”
He disappears before my eyes, and it takes extreme concentration to focus on the gravel driveway, to detect the slight crunch and depression of the rocks as he retreats.
A loud, frustrated grunt rumbles free from me, and I tug open one of the tool chest drawers, violently jostling the contents. When I toss my screwdriver in to join the others, something catches my eye at the rear of the drawer.
An icy cold finger of foreboding scrapes down my spine, compelling me to glance around the empty garage before reaching inside the drawer. At the very back, my fingertips encounter the edge of what feels like a notecard taped to the steel.
