Time's Divide (The Chronos Files Book 3) by Rysa Walker Read Free Book Online Page A

fascinating.
    Mom’s mouth tightens. “Let’s go.”
    I watch the security guys from the corner of my eye as we head to the elevators. They seem confused. After a moment, the shorter man nods toward us, and the tall one hurries across the room. Fortunately the lobby is wide and we’re a good distance ahead of him. When the door closes in front of us, he’s still about ten paces away.
    Once we’re in Mom’s room, she heads straight for the minibar. I’ve rarely seen her drink anything stronger than wine, but she tips back a tiny bottle of vodka, straight, her eyes tightly closed. A small shudder runs through her, and then she sits on the edge of one of the double beds.
    After a moment, she opens her eyes. “Okay. Start explaining.”
    I pull out the CHRONOS key and am about to start when I notice the window. Although Mom may have been kidding about being able to reach out and touch the Eye from her balcony, she wasn’t kidding by much. I don’t know how well the passengers can see into the rooms from the clear observation capsules that are moving slowly back toward the ground, but there’s no point in risking it.
    Trey follows my gaze and pulls the curtains together. Without the bright sunlight streaming in, the medallion bathes everything in blue light. Mom and Trey can’t see it, though, so I flick on the lamp by the bed.
    Sitting back down next to Mom, I hold the key out. “I know you hate this thing, and I get it. Believe me, I totally get it. I might be able to explain without using it, but it would take much, much longer for you to believe me.”
    I run my fingers over the key to set a stable point and then roll the time back to 3:25, just after I called Mom from the lobby. “This is going to be a little uncomforta—”
    “No.” Mom grabs my hand. Her fingers brush the side of the key, and she pulls them back, almost like she’s been burnt. “I don’t want you using that thing, Kate. Take it off. Put it away.”
    “Sorry, Mom. I wish I could, but . . .” I pull up the stable point again, moving more quickly this time, so that I can blink out before she reacts.
    Mom is standing at the window, staring out at the Thames, when I pop in. I clear my throat softly to get her attention.
    She looks toward the bed where I’m sitting and says, “Oh, there you are—” before realizing it’s her daughter and not her sister in the room. Her jaw hangs open for a moment and she stands there, speechless.
    “Sorry, Mom,” I repeat. “This will make more sense in about twenty minutes.” And then I jump back to 2:46, about ten seconds after I left.
    Mom is sitting on the bed now instead of standing next to the window, but the stunned expression on her face is almost identical to the one she wore when I blinked in. Except she also looks like she might hurl on the rug.
    “You were here . . . earlier. Why do I remember that now, when I didn’t before? What’s going on, Kate?”
    “That queasy feeling would go away much faster if you’d just hold your hand against—”
    “No! I’m not touching that thing. I want you to take it off. Right now. I mean it, Kate.”
    “I can’t. I really, really wish I could, but things are complicated beyond belief right now, and I have to keep this on. In fact, I’ve brought a spare for you.”
    “No,” she says again, scooting toward the nightstand. “Keep that thing away from me. And take it off. Please, Kate. I don’t know what kind of magic makes it work, but it’s cursed.”
    “It’s not magic.” I’m about to add that it’s not cursed, either, but given the trouble the thing has brought me in the past few months, she may have a point.
    “It’s from the future, early twenty-fourth century. Katherine brought it back with her to 1969. That’s the year she was stranded in. She was with a group called CHRONOS that studies history by sending people back to view events as they happened. There was . . . well, it wasn’t an accident, more of a sabotage.