Page 12 of Alchemy of Secrets

Ten minutes.

Holland was nearly out of time when she arrived at an apartment complex made of Hollywood dreams that hadn’t turned into reality, full of actors and musicians masquerading as fitness instructors and baristas.

The sun was on the edge of setting, but the shade from the trees lining the walkway made the complex darker. Lights flickered, blinking in and out before coming to life and coloring her steps an unnatural shade of yellow.

Holland had always been someone who felt certain about what she believed. But all she felt now was scared. Her heart pounded as she climbed the steps to the apartment number Jake had texted.

Ten minutes from now, Jake was either going to be alive—and Holland would know for certain that the Professor’s stories were lies—or he was going to be dead—and Holland would regret ever hearing the stories.

She knocked on the door.

Jake opened it immediately.

He looked awful. His eyes were shot with blood, his Clark Kent hair was flat and a little greasy. Behind him, the only light came from a television in the corner. He looked smaller than he did in her memories, dressed in a washed-out red USC shirt that made him look faded as well.

“Do you want to come in?” He smiled, but it wasn’t the superhero grin from the night before. Even if it had been, Holland didn’t think she’d want to step inside. This version of Jake didn’t feel like the guy she’d been dating.

“I think I’m good out here,” she said, and she tried to make her voice sound light. The last thing he needed was to think she was feeling uncomfortable. “This way I can stand between you and anyone who wants to hurt you.”

“Please.” He looked at her with the saddest pair of eyes she’d ever seen.

Holland felt another stab of guilt. Then she felt as shallow as Chance for judging Jake when someone had just told him he was going to die. “Yeah, of course.” She took a cautious step inside.

“Wait—don’t—” Jake put a hand out as if to stop her. “Don’t come in.”

“You just asked me to…” Holland looked at him questioningly.

He cursed under his breath and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Holland—I—I think you’re a really good person. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I—”

“Jake… you’re making me nervous.”

His bloodshot eyes met hers. “Jake isn’t my real name.”

“What?” Her heart pounded.

His expression changed from scared to guilty as hell. “I’m so sorry, Holland. They made it sound like a simple job.”

So many alarm bells went off in her head. She shouldn’t have come here. She had no idea what he was saying, but she knew this was when she needed to leave. She backed away.

“Wait—” He grabbed her arm.

“Let me go or I’ll scream.”

“Just let me explain,” he said quickly. “I know I lied to you—but you’re not safe out there.”

“Says the guy who won’t even tell me his name. Who was hired for—I don’t even know what!”

Guilt creased his features once again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you’re really not safe. Someone wants you dead.” He took a deep, ragged breath. “The Watch Man—or whoever called me earlier—told me that was how I could get more time, by killing you tonight.”

Holland went cold all over. Then she tore her arm from Jake and ran, nearly tripping on her stupid heels.

“Holland!” he called.

She didn’t stop.

“Holland, don’t—”

She kicked off her heels and ran until she reached the parking lot. But she must have gotten turned around because she couldn’t find her car.

With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone. Someone needed to know where she was. January was half a world away; there was nothing she could do but worry.

The next person who came to mind was Chance. If she’d just been honest with him at the hotel, she might not have even come here.

She was an idiot.

Chance answered on the first ring. “Miss me already?”

“I’m so stupid, so so so stupid,” she said.

“Whoa—slow down, Holly. What happened?”

“I—I—don’t know where to start.” Holland could barely speak, but she didn’t want to get off the phone as she anxiously turned back toward the complex to find the right parking lot.

Everything looked different. It was darker than when she’d arrived, the patches of sky above her quickly shifting from blue to night.

Someone wants you dead.

Jake’s words echoed in her ears as she cautiously retraced her steps, desperate to find her car. She saw the heels she’d kicked off and her heart pounded harder. This was where she’d first run from Jake. Was he hiding in the shadows?

“Where are you?” Chance asked. “I’m going to come get you.”

“I have my car,” she whispered, “I just—” Her words broke off at the sight of a shadow lying a few feet down the path.

Only it wasn’t a shadow, it was a person.

He wasn’t moving.

Holland froze, except for her shaking hands. She couldn’t make them still, and she couldn’t make the rest of her move.

She could see dark hair and a faded red USC T-shirt.

“Jake—”

“Who is Jake?” Chance asked through the phone.

Sprinklers sputtered to life, popping out of the ground next to the path. Water sprayed on ferns that bent under the weight. They sprayed on Jake as well, wetting his hair and dampening his shirt.

Holland inched closer, to see if he was breathing. If his chest was moving up and down, if—

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” Holland repeated. But not even God could help Jake now.