He placed his fingers against her lips to stop her. “Let’s finish this.” He tore himself away from her grasp, and as he slipped away from her, she let go of time and the world began again.
When Harte didn’t fall, Jack stood, too shocked to move, which gave the crowd time to wrestle the gun from his grasp. It took only a few moments more before he was arrested and dragged away, screaming and shouting all the while.
Once it was calm, Harte took his time removing his shirt. ?The muscles of his arms broadcast exactly how tense he was as he made a show of stripping for the public. The cool air raised gooseflesh on his bare shoulders, but his eyes were steady, calm.
“A kiss for luck, my dear?” he asked, his gray eyes determined.
When the crowd erupted with enthusiastic hoots, she couldn’t deny him. She allowed him to put his mouth over hers, but this was not the kiss she’d wanted for herself that day in Harte’s apartment. His lips were cool, as though he’d already been claimed by the water below, and there was nothing but a resigned determination in the quick brush of skin against skin, mouth against mouth.
She wasn’t sure she trusted him, but to know he was about to die?
I can take him back with me, she thought in a sudden rush. To hell with everyone who might see them disappear.
Too soon, he pulled away from her, and the time for decisions had passed.
With a flourish, Harte mounted the railing. His eyes scanned the crowd, looked over them to the city beyond, and she thought she saw regret flash across his expression.
Nibs exploded from the crowd. “Stop him!”
Esta saw some of Dolph’s boys move toward the railing where Harte stood, but before they could come any closer, police stormed the bridge. The crowd descended into confusion, surging in all directions to get away from the raised billy sticks and angry whistles of the police. In the confusion, she was pushed back from the railing, and from Harte.
There was no way to reach him. No way to turn him from what he meant to do. She’d saved the Book, but she couldn’t save him.
Harte’s eyes met hers. Go! he mouthed, and the air seemed to shimmer around him, the sun throwing up a glare as he let go of the cabled railing, and then he was gone.
Her heart seized. Too late.
She pushed through the crowd to the railing, where he’d disappeared. Below, there was no sign of him. She watched, waiting for him to surface or for some indication that he’d made it, but even as the crowd behind her was a riot of anger and confusion, the water was silent, holding its secrets as absolutely as a grave.
Esta didn’t see Nibs coming for her through the crowd. She was too busy trying to breathe through the shock of what had just happened. But as she clung to Harte’s cloak, she felt the hard outline of the Book. Her cuff was warm in her hand.
He hadn’t betrayed her in the end. He’d given her exactly what she needed.
But before she could fully comprehend that he was well and truly gone, she felt someone grab her arm.
“Did he give it to you?” Nibs demanded, his pale face close to hers. “I know he told you where it is.”
“What?” She tried to shake him off, but his hands gripped her arm painfully.
“Tell me,” he said, pulling a snub-nosed pistol from his jacket and placing it under her chin. “Tell me or you can join him.”
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
“Tell me what he did with the Book!” Nibsy said, his breath hot and sour on her face as the cool barrel of the gun pressed against her throat.
“I—” Esta knew in that moment that Harte had been right. She couldn’t give it to him. She knew then that whatever happened, Nibs would never be worthy of the power it held. Her mind raced for some lie as she shifted the cloak against herself so he wouldn’t feel the Book within its folds.
He clicked the hammer of the gun back, but before he could pull the trigger, his body went rigid and he gasped in pain. The gun fell from his hand, and he let go of his grip on Esta as he grabbed his leg.
Esta backed away from him and looked up to find ?Viola standing a few feet off, her face creased into a serious frown as she watched Nibs pull the silver knife from his thigh. She gave Esta a solemn nod, and then she was gone, melting into the crowd as though she’d never been there.
Only the feel of the cuff in her hand, warm and urgent and compelling, brought Esta to her senses. She gave in to the pull of Ishtar’s Key, allowed the warmth of its energy to expand her until she could see the layers of time and history in that place—all the seconds to come that wouldn’t have Harte Darrigan in them.
Nibs looked up at her, hate and anger twisting his features. He raised the gun, but it was too late. She’d found the layer of time she wanted, and she was gone.
A STARLESS SKY
Present Day—The Brooklyn Bridge
Esta barely had time to dodge the semitruck as it sped past her. Gasping, she clung to the side of the roadway. The gusting air from the passing traffic lifted the hair around her face and whipped her skirts around her legs. It was night, but the glow of the city—her city—shattered the darkness. The gentle hum of automobiles replaced the clattering racket of cobbled streets and wooden wheels, and above her, she couldn’t make out the stars.
Everything felt too fast. After weeks in a city that moved at the speed of a plodding horse or a rumbling elevated train, the flurry of cars and people felt like too much.
Harte’s cloak was still in her arms, the Book still heavy within its folds. And if she just ignored the fact that it smelled like him, that combination of Ivory soap and the faint scent of oranges, she’d be fine.
She had to be fine. She still had work left to do.
She kept her head down and made the long walk back to Midtown, to the parking lot she’d left from, beneath the crown of the Empire State Building. For her, weeks had passed, but for this city, everything felt exactly the same. The summer night was warmer than the day in late March she’d left behind, and by the time she reached her destination, she was sweating from the heavy skirts and the pace she’d set.
As she rounded the corner, she stopped short and then retreated. The street where Dakari’s car had once been was now blocked off, and a small crowd had formed. Shards of red from the lights of police cars bounced off the darkened windows of the surrounding buildings. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see the street where Dakari had fallen, and she couldn’t tell if he was still there.
Esta had tried to return to a few minutes after she originally left, just as Professor Lachlan had taught her. But after the walk from the bridge, she was too late. If they had Dakari . . . If he were injured or worse . . .