He’s near, she thought. Near enough that she if she struck now she could drive a dagger through his chest.

But could she do it? Could she end a man’s life?

She eased her daggers out of their harnesses.

Yes, she thought.

As though reading her mind, Mac hobbled out of easy reach. Her Cirkus Freaks closed around him, making it so that Dorothy couldn’t reach him, not unless she was willing to go through them.

And were they hers any longer? Eliza, it seemed, had already defected. What about the others? Were they working for Mac now, too?

Dorothy felt her heartbeat pulsing in her palm, vibrating through her daggers. She couldn’t risk it.

Mac held out his hand and, as though on cue, one of the Cirkus Freaks handed him a knife.

Smiling at her, he said, “Let me just finish this guy off and then we’ll discuss this further.”

Finish him off?

The thought made her feel like screaming.

“If you really want to go back in time, we should leave now,” Dorothy said, her mind working quickly. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Roman’s gaze flicker and settle on her. Dorothy didn’t look at him. In this moment, all she could think about was getting Mac away from Ash. Not just five years this time. Decades, centuries. “Before—”

But her mind froze, and she could think of no reason that they should leave now, before Mac had a chance to kill Ash.

Roman cleared his throat. “As I’m sure you know, the person you’re torturing is Jonathan Asher,” he explained. “He should have a public death, don’t you think?”

Roman said all of this as though it were obvious, his expression blank.

Mac’s eyes flicked between the two of them, suspicious, but he lowered his knife. “That’s not a bad idea.” Over his shoulder, he added, “Keep him alive until I get back.”

Skin humming, Dorothy turned and started down the hallway, trusting the others to follow her. She slid her daggers back into their holsters.

She may have let one moment pass, but there would be another. She’d make sure of it. For now, Mac wanted to go back in time, and so they would take him.

He just couldn’t be allowed to return.

42

Ash

“Ash . . . come on now, time to wake up.”

The voice drifted out of the black, tugging him from unconsciousness. It was familiar.

He struggled to raise his heavy lids. “Dorothy?” he murmured.

And that’s how he knew he was dreaming. Because Dorothy couldn’t be here.

A cool hand touched his cheek. The voice spoke again. “Hurry. You don’t have a lot of time.”

Ash still didn’t open his eyes. There was blood crusted in his eyelashes, holding them shut.

“You aren’t here,” he said. It was a struggle to speak. His tongue felt too big for his mouth.

“You have to get out,” Dorothy was saying. “Mac won’t be long, and if you’re still here when he returns, he’ll kill you.”