His room? Who did Mac think he was, taking over one of their rooms? Another sideways glance at Roman told Dorothy that he was equally taken aback by this new sequence of events.

“More happened in the last twenty-four hours than I’d expected,” Roman murmured.

“Mac works fast,” Dorothy said, bitter. “Perhaps we should go back now and try to return a day earlier, as planned?”

But, even as she said the words, Dorothy knew that this wasn’t possible. If their last trip back in time had taught her anything, it was that she could not change the past once it had already been set. They were stuck with this present, for better or worse.

It chilled her, how easily things could change.

“Thank you,” she said, turning back to the boy. She cast one last glance around the room, letting her eyes linger on each of the workers in turn. “Those panels aren’t to be taken out of this hotel without either Roman’s or my express permission. Is that understood?”

A pause. And then each of the Freaks nodded.

40

Ash

NOVEMBER 9, 2077, NEW SEATTLE

The sky outside of Ash’s hotel room cell looked bruised: purple, with black clouds strewn across the horizon, their edges already turning yellow. He groaned and sat up. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d been brought here. A few hours, at least. Maybe a full day.

His wrists had been tied behind his back, but his feet and legs were still free. He pushed himself off the hotel bed and walked over to the window, letting his head knock gently against the glass.

The windows were barred. No way out. But even if they hadn’t been, even if Ash’s hands had been free and he’d been able to pry the glass open and climb outside, he doubted he’d have the guts to jump. The water seemed so far below. Eight stories, possibly more.

He exhaled, heavily, his breath ghosting the glass. Dorothy had made this jump. She’d been in the same predicament as he was now, and yet, somehow, she’d managed to pry a window open and find her way outside. She’d stared down at the violent black water and leaped.

Without warning, Zora’s voice snaked into his mind: You have to stop thinking that she’s the same girl you knew.

He swallowed, hard. Zora. He was alone in here, but he wondered if Zora was being held in some other room in the Fairmont.

Behind him: the scrape of metal in a lock. A door creaked open, bringing the smell of cigarette smoke into the small room.

Ash stiffened.

Footsteps, and then hands were grasping his shoulders, spinning him around. Mac had brought four Cirkus Freaks with him. Despite his misery, Ash felt his lip twitch.

“Two men for each of my arms,” he said, flexing beneath his jacket. “I’m flattered.”

“I aim to please,” Mac said from the doorway.

“Where’s Zora?” Ash asked.

“We left her on the docks. I have no use for mouthy women.” He ran a tongue over his chapped lips and then nodded at the men holding Ash’s arms.