His gaze lifted, narrowed, and suspicious.
“Everything I ever loved turned against me,” I said. “That’s why I’m here. I’m searching, too. Searching for answers.”
Another step. Close enough to touch him now. Close enough to see the fractures in him spiderwebbing wider.
But before I could take another breath, he shot up from the chair, nearly knocking me aside as he bolted down the aisle and vanished between the shelves.
I sighed and sank into the warm spot he’d left behind, the chair’s fabric still holding the heat of his desperation. Elbows on knees, I cradled my head in my hands.
He was so close to breaking.
The daggers, the mission, the world I came to change faded momentarily as something else took root—the burning need to knowhim, every fractured piece, every hidden truth, every secret he might have hidden for centuries.
My pulse raced with anticipation.
I must know more.
And I would.
No matter what it took.
Chapter 26
Alina
As the days passed, I shadowed Jack James from a distance, lingering just long enough for him to sense me—or wonder how I kept finding him in the crowd.
“This man is the weakest I’ve ever met,” I muttered, watching him across the cafeteria. He sat alone, as always, hunched over his tray, shrinking into himself like he hoped to disappear. “I bet he’s still a virgin. He lives entirely in his head. And that hair—God, it’s flying in every direction. He looks completely unhinged.”
Still, I couldn’t deny it—if I wanted answers or had any hope of locating the Sun and Moon Daggers, this eccentric man was my only lead. Jack’s grasp of time travel was unparalleled, no matter how erratic he seemed. He was a key I couldn’t afford to lose.
I “accidentally” ran into him one afternoon outside the bookstore. He looked worse than usual—clothes wrinkled, hair even wilder than before, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused.
“Jack,” I said, feigning concern, “you don’t look so good. What’s going on?”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” he muttered, already inching away.
I reached for his arm. He flinched at my touch.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” I locked eyes with him, and for the first time, I saw it clearly—desperation. Not fear. Not madness. Desperation.
His hands shook as he yanked at his hair. Then, without another word, he spun around and stormed off across campus. I followed.
Eventually, he collapsed onto a metal bench in a park, his whole body twitching with nervous energy.
“What is it, Jack?” I asked, my voice quieter now, touched with something almost like genuine worry. “What has you like this?”
He groaned, dragging both hands down his face like he was trying to wipe away reality.
“Today’s the day,” he whispered, barely audible. “I present my research—the culmination of every drop of blood, sweat, and sleepless night I’ve poured into time travel.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said with a bright, rehearsed smile.
“Is it?” His expression darkened. “I hope it’s received well. I hope it marks the beginning of the prestige I’ve always dreamed of. I want to be respected, not just some thirty-two-year-old loser living off Top Ramen and Chinese takeout because he’s too obsessed to cook a decent meal.”
I stayed silent, letting him spiral uninterrupted.
“For years, I’ve envisioned headlines with my name—Jack James Proposes Brilliant New Concept on Time Travel.” He waved a hand before his face like he was conjuring the words from thin air. “But I was supposed to give the presentation in room 15B—the small, familiar one I’ve practiced dozens of times. Only now, it’s suddenly… unavailable.”
