Backward.
A cloak of immense power enveloped her, like a large, heavy blanket had been flung over her, suffocating and crushing in its weight.
She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
What have I done?
She looked for a place to throw the watch; somewhere she could hide it to get away from the power, but her fingers wouldn’t release their hold.
Her own body betrayed her.
“What’s going on?” she hissed. The watch didn’t answer. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.”
She whimpered.
This was all too real.
Haven blinked rapidly as the world around her blurred, and the light from the lamppost above her stopped before it even made it to the ground as though hitting an invisible barrier. The stars in the sky melted together, and the houses in the distance turned a sickly gray.
When a debilitating wave of dizziness crashed over her, she grabbed onto the bumper of her car, willing the world to stop spinning.
The world didn’t comply.
Around and around, her vision spun until she unloaded her dinner into the trunk of her car. Steadying her head so she could wipe the sick from her lips, she closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings.
No such luck.
When the dizziness in her head threatened to topple her, she grabbed her gym bag, her grip on it tight.
As if God dimmed the lights, the world faded.
She couldn’t hear the sounds of the carnival through the invisible cotton in her ears. The only noise penetrating the muffled barrier was a strange crackling sound, like a microwave with a fork inside.
An immense wave of indescribable power brought an eerie silence.
Haven stumbled…then realized something that made every nerve in her body scream.
The power was emanating from her feet.
She peered down to where her feet used to be and found only a swirling black hole.
She gasped.
“Aw, hell,” escaped her lips, right before the inky black rift swelling beneath her devoured her.
Chapter Six
March 28, 1817
Cambridgeshire, England
Logan Dunham sighed and peered through the floor-to-ceiling windows set into the garden side of his study. Restless under layers of stiff clothing, his body begged for the exercise and adrenaline only a long and vigorous ride could provide.
After seven hours of poring over ledgers, reports, and letters of business and correspondence, the time for action had arrived.
He rose from the velvet wingback chair behind his desk and strode to the door. His long fingers, centimeters from the brass lever, halted midway when a loud and exuberant knock sounded against the door.
So close.
