As he tested me and my power, which felt like sandpaper being rubbed over my body, I spoke breathless, choked words. “That’s not necessary information.” I placed a shaky hand over my mouth. “What about a spelled letter from you? Would that get to Elder Harcourt?”
His head was cocked, and he gently pulled his magic back. “No. As I said, he’s only found when he wants to be.” He was watching me closely. “And as I also said, he would have found you if he believed you shouldn’t be here.”
I shook my head in a hurry. “I don’t belong here.” I waved a shaky hand around the room. “This is all foreign.” A sob clogged my throat. I pushed it down, my heart rate nowhere near normal. “Someone else. There’s got to be someone else.”
He stared with tolerance. “I’m the second most powerful Mage in the world.” My stomach plummeted even further as I fell back against the couch. I gaped at him with swiftly tear-filled eyes, but he still continued. “I’m directly under Elder Harcourt in terms of powerfulness. If I can’t do it, no other can.”
My eyelashes fluttered in rapid motion, keeping the tears at bay. “How long before you can?”
His lips pinched. “Maybe in a hundred years or so. Time travel takes so long to manifest, we’re wise to use it with caution.”
My hand trembled as I covered my mouth. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” he hushed, pushing off the door and grabbing the tissue box. Like he was dealing with a skittish animal, he cautiously handed it to me. “I truly am sorry.”
I dabbed at my eyes, not about to really cry yet. When I did, I was going to crash. “I can’t live here. I don’t belong in this time.” I glanced out the window, green tree leaves swaying in a breeze. “I don’t even know where I am right now.”
“I’ll say it once more. If you weren’t supposed to be here, the wily bastard would have found you.” His brows lifted. “And if you don’t know where you are, then that’s a good thing. Where did you come from?”
“I was in Choep, New York. In an alley behind an old,” I paused, then I amended, “new furniture store.”
He quirked a brow. “I know the place. I like their pieces. Good quality.” He glanced down at my wet attire, parts of which were covered in holes and blood. “Should you go back there?”
I absently waved a hand. “The threat won’t be able to find me.” Simply because I was protected. But also because King Zeller had stated that Bossman had to store up the energy to make his freaky magic work. The Bossman had wasted it in not taking me where he’d wanted before going back to the future.
I fingered a strand of my hair, staring at it. Survival mode was kicking in. Always stay alive. My main goal in life. “Can you spell this for me? And my eyebrows and…lower region? Can you make it red like a fire Elemental?”
“Sure,” he stated gently. He tilted his head, and instantly the strand of hair I held was neon red. “It’ll stay that length and color until the spell is removed.” He flicked a finger at my clothes and still spoke softly, probably because my entire frame was trembling. “You’ll also want to buy different clothes to fit in. You’ll want to blend in.”
I glanced at his attire. Then out the window. I wasn’t about to dress like those people I’d seen today, or even like Elder Farrar. “I’m sure I can find something halfway suitable.”
Dry words. “You don’t have to like an outfit to wear it.” He bent, staring directly into my eyes, keeping his face level with mine. “I’ll warn you right now. Don’t fuck with time. It’s not something you mess with, so don’t give out any information that could damage the future.”
I nodded once. I was listening, but the words were jarring.
What I really heard was: I was stuck in 1993.
The rattle of keys had both our heads turning toward the door.
Elder Farrar’s golden eyes swung back to me. “Keep your mouth shut. She’s not going to like seeing you here.”
I kept silent as a lovely Shifter woman about my age, with a slightly swollen belly that hardly showed her pregnancy, walked inside. She kicked the door shut behind her. She held a large brown sack in each hand, keys dangling from her fingers. “Antonio, can you help—” She stuttered to a stop, noticing me on the couch. Her eyes scanned my face before her gaze instantly flew to Elder Farrar. Her lips pinched, her rosy cheeks draining of color.
“She’s here seeking my help,” he explained in an easy manner. He grabbed one of the bags from her and placed a soft hand against her back, herding her frame toward the kitchen. “You know I’m not lying.” He pressed his mouth against her left ear, whispering something I couldn’t hear.