Briefly, I wondered whether I should call Bridgette. But would the shadow let me?
It honestly had some kind of control over Max. It appeared to be constantly watching me, too. So who knew what would happen if I went against it?
If it had nearly as much strength as the Max from the past, then it had more than enough magic to overcome me.
… So there was only one option, right?
Play things carefully.
Plus, I couldn’t leave him, could I?
Just the thought of leaving Max like this made my stomach turn. Which was mad. Suicide, even. I now had all the evidence I needed that Max had been lying to me. You think that would quash whatever I felt for him. Well, you’d be wrong. Instead, it simply ignited it further as if my affection for him had been a slowly burning fire that had suddenly taken hold into a firestorm.
Christ, once upon a time, I’d thought I was a sensible girl. Now look at me?
I reached out a hand to Max, kind of acting on instinct.
I was a little surprised when he took it, wrapping his stiff, strong, rough fingers around mine.
I took several seconds to enjoy the feel of his proximity, then I took a stiff breath and returned my attention to the guy conked out on the floor.
Frowning, I realized I recognized him. Now he wasn’t covered in wriggling magical symbols, I appreciated I’d seen him before. At one of Sarah’s séances, to be exact.
Max must’ve come to the same realization, because I watched his eyebrows descend with a click. “That’s one of Sarah’s witches,” he said, voice an angry rumble.
A sickening feeling twisted through the pit of my stomach, and I managed to nod. “What do we do now? Is he… is he going to be okay?”
Max shifted away from me, broke my grip, got down on one knee, and appeared to intently inspect the man. After several seconds, he nodded his head and pushed back up. “He needs magical care, pronto, but he’ll be fine. Speaking of which,” Max shifted his gaze down my body and locked it on my blood-soaked pants, “you also need help.”
Immediately, I brought my hands up and spread them wide. “I’ve already told you – I don’t want you using your magic to heal me. I’ll be fine,” I said, switching the weight from my bad leg, reaching out a hand, and locking it over the chair to my side for support.
What with one thing and another, I’d kind of forgotten I was injured. Now the pain slammed back into my mind, and I had to clench my teeth to fight past it.
Though Max pressed his lips together and shot me a disappointed look, he didn’t push the point.
Before we could dwindle back into silence, I grated my teeth together. “What exactly happens now? And why did that faceless assassin attach a timed charge, or whatever you called it, to this witch? It’s the Lonely King, isn’t it? I don’t get it, why does he have to kill at exactly the same time every day?”
Max’s expression ran the gamut from confused to mildly proud. “So you figured that out, then?”
“What?” I frowned. “The bit about the Lonely King? You told me –”
He shook his head. “No. The likely reason that faceless assassin attached this time charge was to ensure his victim died at exactly the right moment while he fought you.”
I ran my bottom lip through my teeth. “I don’t get it – why does he need to kill with such regularity?”
Max tapped a finger on his jaw. His confusion was beginning to wane. Or maybe he was so damned used to losing his memory so often that he was practiced at getting back on with things. “It’s something I’ve thought about, and to be honest, I don’t like any of the possibilities.”
Again, my stomach sank. Any more of this, and it would probably lurch out of my torso, fall onto the floor, and leave me dead, dead, dead.
“It’s most likely a time spell.”
“Time spell?” I made a face, hoping it didn’t advertise my ignorance like a neon sign.
He offered a short nod. “Powerful spells require sacrifices. And the more powerful the spell, the more sacrifices you require. Earth spells tend to require a lot of dirt. Water spells a lot of water. And time spells, a lot of time.”
I shook my head like a confused cat. “Sorry, you’ve lost me there. A lot of time? A time spell?” My voice became progressively louder as I started to realize what he was saying. “You aren’t… you’re talking about time travel, aren’t you?”
He stared right at me and nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s possible?” My voice shot up like a kazoo. An angry one.
Max shrugged. “Technically. But you need a lot of magic – a hell of a lot of magic to pull something like that off.”
I simply stared at him, mouth agape.
Why did it feel that every single minute I was learning some new horror about magic? Why did it feel like I was always running but could never catch up?
Max checked on the downed witch once more before returning his attention to me. “By gathering the hearts of specific witches at specific times of day, the Lonely King is gathering some seriously strong sacrifices for his spell. By timing it right – by murdering them down to the minute, he’s offering time all the power it will require to change.”
I made a face. “That doesn’t make any sense. Time changes all the time,” I stuttered, hoping I didn’t sound like a complete idiot. “But it can’t go backward. That’s just stupid. It defies
