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I nodded.
I followed her to the house, trying not to look terrified. Cat didn’t knock or use a key, just opened the front door and walked in. I caught a quick impression of open spaces and warm colors as she pulled me into a dark room.
She gestured through the doorway. “The hallway leads you to a sitting room. In that room is a set of French doors that exit onto the patio. The patio has a stone wall that you can use as a shield. Once you hit the grass you’ll have to make a run for it to avoid being seen.”
“What do I do if—”
The question was interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing. Cat grabbed me, pushing me down behind the desk. Muffled voices filled the air, and then disappeared.
“If you’re going to go, the time is now.” She lifted her hands and the sphere appeared. Her face glowed in its eerie light. “Are you ready?”
I stood and stepped into the veil.
Chapter 51
The long tube of light was illuminated in the same soft shades of water and silver as the night before. It felt different without Michael by my side, less thrilling, more terrifying. I twisted the ring and concentrated on the date of Liam’s death, holding the scene of Michael and me crossing the grass to the lab in my mind. Thoughts of the things we’d said, the things we hadn’t said, kept trying to intrude. I forced myself to focus. I could almost imagine Michael’s voice in my ear, encouraging me to do the same.
Soon I could hear the unfiltered sounds and see the shimmer that signified the end of my journey. When everything went quiet again, I stayed inside the bridge, scoping out the room, making sure I was alone. All I could see was a faint hint of light shining from an illuminated bookshelf.
It appeared to hold a collection of hourglasses, from the most archaic designs to the most futuristic. I hadn’t noticed them when I’d been standing in the room with Cat.
I stepped through the veil and tiptoed to the doorway of Liam’s office, peeking my head out just like I had fifteen minutes ago, but in a completely different time. The house felt as empty as it had then. It was now cloaked in a darkness so deep I cursed myself for having not brought a flashlight. I tiptoed toward the French doors that led out to the patio and pushed down carefully on the curved door handles.
Locked.
And then, behind me, the unmistakable sound of footsteps.
Panic clawed its way up my chest. I stopped the scream bubbling in my throat and looked over my shoulder.
I was alone.
Turning my attention back to the doors, I felt for a push button. There was only a deadbolt—the kind that had to be unlocked with a key.
“Okay, think, think, think.” I searched for a hook on the wall or a side table, hoping I’d miraculously find what I was looking for. No luck. A memory tugged at me, and I lifted my eyes, catching a glimpse of something sitting on top of the doorframe.
A key.
Exactly where my parents used to store the bathroom key in case I locked myself in when I was little. I stretched as high as I could and cursed under my breath. Too short. I didn’t dare jump—if I missed more than once, made too much racket, I might not have time to get outside.
Grateful my vision had adjusted to the dim light, I looked around the room. A plush velvet ottoman sat in front of an armchair fifteen feet away from me. I hurried over to it, praying it was on wheels. Finally, success.
Rolling the ottoman over to the door, I climbed up precariously and knocked the key to the ground. It pinged when it hit the hardwood floor. Not bothering to return either of the items to their proper places, I slipped the key into the lock.
The cold air outside made my eyes water. Lights were on in the lab, and no one occupied the frozen expanse of yard. I crossed my fingers, snuck down the patio steps, and took off running.
I reached the tree line that bordered the woods fairly quickly. I wished I could see something, someone to let me know I’d come out of the bridge in the right time period.
Wish granted.
I scrambled for quick refuge, sliding inside the abandoned building with the rotting floor that Michael had once told me to avoid. Even though the door barely hung from the hinges, I pushed it closed with a soft scuffing sound—the smell of molding leaves and gasoline permeating my nostrils. The floor looked to be in good enough shape. Even if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter.
I had no other alternatives at the moment.
Landers and Ava were already in the woods, walking straight toward me.
I opened the door half an inch, leaving just enough space so I could see outside.
“I’m sorry.”
