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A jazz funeral, in the middle of the night, yet somehow in the middle of the day.
Completely out of place.
Completely out of time.
Chapter 2
Dune, November, Ivy Springs
“The Infinityglass is what?”
Liam Ballard, head of the Hourglass, and my boss, regarded me from across his desk with a cautious expression. “Human.”
I sat back and let the notion settle in as I felt my eyes glaze over.
“Dune? Are you okay?” Liam asked.
I shook my head.
The Infinityglass was the freaking holy grail of time and believed to contain ultimate power over the space time continuum, among other things.
I’d been obsessed with it since I was a kid, heard endless stories about it from my dad, and imagined the Indiana Jones–type quest I’d eventually go on to find it.
Except that wasn’t going to happen now, because it was human.
“Please tell me what you know.” I leaned forward and gripped the edge of Liam’s desk.
“I did some research.” He tapped his fingers on a yellow legal pad full of chicken scratch. “Made a few phone calls. Got a few back. Went to the hospital to see Poe Sharpe.”
“Poe. What does he have to do with it?”
Liam hesitated. Did some more finger tapping. Met my eyes. “Quite a bit.”
“You’re looking at me like you think my head’s going to fly off and spin around the room.” My forced laugh hung uncomfortably in the air. “Poe’s not the Infinityglass, is he?”
“No. But you losing your head is a distinct possibility.”
“Nothing can be crazier than the Infinityglass being … human.” The word didn’t even sit right on my tongue.
cked the guy for the key to the cuffs, found it, and set Poe free.
“Do I want to know how you know what a handcuff key looks like?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Let’s move.” Poe slipped his knife out of his boot and I followed him into a long, wide room with a chill factor worthy of iceberg storage. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling.
Poe scanned the room, muttering under his breath. “NT27. NT27. NT27—here.”
The labeled shelf held a clock made of solid glass, with no internal hardware, but wildly spinning hands. An astrological chart beside it displayed lit, moving stars. A flat jewelry box held rings in different sizes. Some of them glowed.
“There.” Poe pointed with the knife. “To the far left.”
A small wooden chest stood open, revealing a pocket watch nestled in black velvet. It was the size of a half-dollar, the metal shiny, but not reflective. I picked it up. It was warm rather than cold. The gears on the back were exposed, but that was the only remarkable feature.
“I am not impressed. At all.”
“You don’t have to be.” Poe tilted his head toward the open door. “Let’s go.”
