Concentrate. He had to try something else. He thought back to when he was a young child. Way, way back. He’d had no control of his gift, freezing time and people when he’d had no desire to do so, unable to freeze them when he did want to, but his parents hadn’t seemed concerned.
Let your worries fade, his mother had said in her gentle voice. She’d had long black hair and vivid violet eyes, her face so perfect it could have been sculpted by an angel. They merely block your passion for this task.
Besides his few conversations with Ava, McKell hadn’t thought of his mother in so long, his chest ached. How he wished she could have met Ava. Granted, she would have been horrified at first, because there’d been no one more timid than Carina, and no one more determined to ensure propriety was adhered to in the home, but with time, the two would have fallen in love.
He pictured his father, standing behind his mother, hands resting on the woman’s delicate shoulders. Now there was a man who hadn’t cared about propriety in any way. He’d loved his woman, though, and had striven to make her happy, despite the whisper about her infidelity.
Who is stronger? his father had asked. The complete opposite of his wife, Dante had looked as rough-and-tumble as a man could. Scars all over his face and arms, lips always thinned as if stuck in a perpetual scowl. You or time?
Me, he’d thought then. Me, he thought now. He squared his shoulders, closed his eyes. He blanked his mind. I’m in control. Time bends to my will.
Over and over he repeated the claim. About the hundredth time, he stared to believe. Yes, he could do this. He was strong. Stronger. He managed to release his worry, his cares, and pictured the threads of time as he’d had to do as a child. Those threads were woven together, a road leading forward, backward, side to side. Millions of tiny little lights traveled that road, all heading in the same direction. Only a few veered off course and moved along the curving side paths.
“McKell,” Ava said.
For her own good, he ignored her. I’m in control. Time bends to my will. As a child, he’d needed to touch the threads. To trail his fingertips in the direction he wanted to go. He reached out.
“McKell!” Such a hungry, hungry growl. She would jump him. Any moment now, and she would jump him.
McKell latched on to the threads, experienced a jolt of electricity, almost dropped them but managed to stop time as a warm current of breath wafted over his neck. Shit. He hadn’t heard Ava move, but she had closed the distance between them. Had almost bitten into him.
Concentrate. All the lights stopped winking, just sort of waiting for his next move. I can do this. He tugged, as hard as he could, his shoulders nearly pulling from their sockets. Nothing. The threads remained in place. Just like the other times he’d tried this. He didn’t give up, didn’t lose confidence.
He tugged again and again, his palms stinging, his entire body still vibrating with the electricity. When he stilled, he barely had any energy left. Damn it! There had to be a way to move these threads.
Okay. So. He took stock. Tugging obviously wouldn’t work, but he couldn’t let go because time would kick back up the moment he did, and Ava would start munching on him.
Ava. His precious Ava. He would return her to the way she’d been, so pink and fresh and vital … An image of her consumed his mind—and as easily as if he’d been pulling a feather on a string, the lights moved backward.
At first, he could only stand there, disbelieving and incoherent. How had … what had … But even those thoughts tapered off when he realized he was peering over at himself. He and Ava were still inside the cell, but she was on his lap, and they were talking and hugging.
Had he done it? Had he truly reversed time?
Emboldened, he tugged the threads again. They remained in place. What the hell? He nearly shouted in frustration. What had changed? What had he done differently? He thought back. He’d decided tugging didn’t work, and had then visualized Ava.
He pictured her again. Cheeks pink, skin fresh, body vital. The threads glided backward another inch, and he watched himself lift Ava off his lap and place her on the cot. Watched himself stride away from her—backward.
Relief and joy both flooded him, consuming him, overshadowing the painful jolts still working through him. Yes. Yes! He truly had done it.
He knew now he couldn’t manipulate time with force. Not when going in reverse. He had to manipulate time with pictures. Pictures of … who he wanted to see, when he wanted to see them?
He pictured Ava as she’d been in the van, and once more the threads glided back until he was viewing exactly what he’d imagined. He began sweating, shaking, the threads fighting for release, burning his palms. Come on. Just a little further. He pictured Ava on the street, walking beside him, at the same time tugging those threads so forcefully his bones rattled.
Seconds later, he saw himself, Ava, and the street. At that point in their lives, they hadn’t yet come into contact with the Schön queen and her men. Here, Ava was healthy, whole. This was it, then, the time frame he needed.
He almost let go. Almost. What would happen next? Would the man he was now disappear, along with his memories? No, he thought with determination. No. That couldn’t—wouldn’t—happen. He always remembered when he manipulated time in the other direction. Why not this way, too?
Only way one to find out …
Remember, remember, please remember. Deep breath in, hold … hold, release. He opened his fingers as the breath expelled from him. The threads jumped as far away from him as they could, bouncing together as they realigned.
The electricity abandoned him in a rush, leaving McKell burning, scalding, blistering like he did when he ventured into the daylight, and just when he was about to roar from the pain, he blinked, the pain faded, and he realized he was standing alongside Ava, not just watching but actually walking down that sidewalk with her.
“Wait,” Ava suddenly said, and he knew—knew—what was about to happen.
He had remembered.
He wanted to whoop as she stopped and withdrew her cell phone. Wanted to hug her as she frowned. Somehow he managed to stay where he was,
“Just got a text from Dallas. The Schön queen plans to target a couple. She’ll threaten one so the other will do whatever she wants. He says she can read minds, so we aren’t to think about what we would do to her if that happens.”
“He’s right,” McKell said, heart slamming against his ribs. This was it. He couldn’t mess this up. Had to keep Ava safe.