Page 34 of A Flicker in Time (Mine Through Time #2)

Chapter 33

“ Y ou told me it would work.” Ethan faced his partner across the desk in his office. “For years, that’s what you’ve been telling me. To wait until the ‘appropriate time,’ whatever that was!”

Lien’s long fingers lazily pulled out a book on the shelf, returned it, and did the same with the next one. “Well then, why have you done it without my supervision?”

“Because you never helped me anyway,” Ethan bit off. “Not with anything concrete.”

“Is telling you your daughter is going to die not concrete help?”

“Don’t you dare mention Penny.” Ethan stood and pushed his chair back. A part of him admitted Lien was helpful in many ways. If it weren’t for him, he’d have given up on time travel technology when the Watchers fell apart. If it weren’t for him, he’d never be prepared for Penny’s illness.

But he could not get past the fact that while Lien had been a good adviser, he’d never actually been a true partner. He spoke of technology beyond what Ethan could imagine—of times and places that could easily heal Penny—but instead of providing him with that technology or any means to get to it, the man was all hints and clues. Do this. Contact that man. Wait one year more.

“But you can’t say everything you’ve achieved wasn’t because of me,” Lien said, as if he’d been reading his thoughts. He approached the other end of the desk slowly, sliding his fingers along the wood. Lien always preferred to show his right profile—to keep curious eyes away from the strange, helmet-like silver plate covering the left side of his head, from his forehead to the back of his neck. Sometimes, he wore a hood to conceal it, but sometimes, it felt like he was intentionally teasing Ethan to see whether he’d ask about it or Lien’s origins.

“That’s true,” Ethan admitted. “But it matters little when the end result was unsuccessful.”

“I wouldn’t call it that.” Lien toyed with a pen.

“Well, I would. So I’m sorry to say I’ll have to discontinue our partnership.”

“Why?”

“We had a deal. I didn’t get what I wanted.”

“That’s too bad.” Lien’s vivid blue eyes pierced him. “Because I got exactly what I wanted.”

Too late, Ethan noticed a metallic flash of a dagger in Lien’s hands.

***

Emily waited in front of the building where Ralkin held his office. The three-story structure was located near Boston Tech’s laboratory and had a grand staircase leading to an arched entrance and four pillars spanning the height of the face at the front. Ralkin said he’d be out at five; now it was ten past, and he was nowhere to be seen.

Somewhat worse, James hadn’t shown up either. What if Ross had found him? No, Ross was in the meeting with Ralkin. But what if James had come here earlier and went in, and then Ross found out—

Emily hit herself on the head to stop her rampant thoughts. In another five minutes, they proved false when James rounded the corner. He’s fine. Emily pushed down the surge of relief.

“Sorry I’m late. I had to go pick up a telegraph.” James approached. Was she making it up because she was so happy to see him, or did his eyes shine brighter today?

“News?” she asked.

“From Will.” No, he was definitely more excited than usual. “Ross is dead. He died in Paris yesterday.”

“He’s dead?” Emily jumped. “How?”

“If I understand correctly from the abbreviations, there was a scuffle, and he got injected with a vial of almonite they’d gotten out of Sylvia. Oh, and then he fell off the Eiffel Tower.”

“The—” Emily bulged out her eyes. “I mean, that’s awful, but also …”

“My sister is free.” James nodded.

As the rush of excitement subsided, the other realization hit. “If Ross died in Paris yesterday, and he didn’t have a teleportation machine …”

“Then the man we saw yesterday wasn’t him.”

“Worse.” Emily looked at the office building, then back at James. “Who’s Ralkin meeting?”

A second of intense thought passed before they both rushed to the entrance. The first floor hosted the common rooms; an open staircase led up. James and Emily ran up and split to check one side of the hallway each. Before long, James shouted and waved at her.

“His office,” he said as she caught up. He knocked a few times. “Ralkin?”

No answer.

“Ralkin? It’s me, Emily,” she tried.

At the continued silence, they looked at each other, gave a short nod, and then James opened the door, the other hand reaching to the inner side of his jacket. Emily readied her mantra.

The office was empty.

There was a smell, however, something pungent and metallic, and—was that a gurgle?

“Emily.” James pointed to the floor behind the desk, where a pair of legs poked from behind.

“Shit.” She ran over. Ralkin lay on the ground, holding, to no avail, the gashing knife wound spreading across his throat. Beneath him, blood seeped into the carpet, forming a macabre pillow for his head.

“No, no, no.” Emily ran to him, stopping her hands halfway to the wound. What to even do?

James cursed behind her.

Stop time? No use. Can’t heal him. Can’t reverse it.

James kneeled beside Ralkin. “He won’t make it. It’s too … I can’t …” He shook his head.

Ralkin gurgled, one hand pointing at the desk. Through the blood pouring out of his mouth, a sound emerged— Penny .

And then his head fell back, and his lightless eyes stared at the ceiling.

“Can’t you do your magical thingie?” James asked.

“It won’t work. You can’t change someone’s death. ”

Emily stayed on her knees, staring numbly at Ralkin’s body. Ross was dead, Ralkin was dead; their problems were solved. Did it matter if she wouldn’t find out what Ralkin wanted to discuss?

“The window hadn’t been opened, and it’s rather far down anyway,” James said.

“Why does that matter?” Emily kept her gaze on Ralkin. I’m sorry.

“That kind of wound—he bled out quickly. In a few minutes. I would’ve been in this hallway at the time. I hadn’t seen anyone pass, and they hadn’t escaped through the window, either.” James walked around the desk.

“They flicked out.” Emily finally met his eyes. “ His partner . There’s a third one.” A shiver crept down her back and right to the points of her toes. “He’s like me.”

“And he doesn’t play around.”

Emily stood and leaned on the desk.

“We should get out,” James said. “Before somebody finds us. Since there’s no proof of the other man …”

Emily nodded. She’d be fine—she could disappear from here. But James couldn’t.

But as she turned, a framed photograph on the desk caught her eye. It was splattered with a few drops of blood, but the face of a dark-haired girl was still clearly visible. Penny. Ralkin’s dead daughter.

“Emily, let’s go,” James pushed.

Emily picked up the photo. It can’t be.

“What is it?” James asked.

She turned the photo toward him. “I know this girl.”