Dark Stars by Danielle Rollins (most read books of all time .txt) 📗

He said, “You really expect me to believe that the two of you aren’t working together?”

Two of you? Dorothy straightened, her interest piqued. She thought of the boy she’d seen climb into the time machine, the one wearing Ash’s jacket, the one who’d been able to fly the Black Crow.

Ash, she thought again. She waited for the other voice, the one telling her that this was impossible, that Mac would’ve recognized Ash, even if he’d somehow managed to get past the other Freaks, Mac would have seen his face and known.

This time, that voice was silent. She’d kept her true identity hidden for a year, after all. Ash could’ve figured out how to do it for a few minutes.

She could feel herself leaning forward, almost as though she could drag the answers from Mac using physical force. She had to work very hard to keep her voice casual, as she said, “Who do you think I’m working with?”

“That kid who stole my time machine.” Mac yanked a chair away from the desk in the corner and pulled it across the room. He sat, resting his elbows on his knees. “The two of you were working together, right?”

Dorothy was quiet for a moment, her tongue lightly tracing the backs of her teeth. It wasn’t so crazy to think that boy was Ash. There were only so many people in the world who knew how to fly the time machine. Roman was dead and she was, well, she was sitting right here. So who did that leave?

Willis knew how to fly it. She’d seen him do it once, back at Fort Hunter. But Willis was quite a bit larger than the boy she’d seen.

She swallowed and said, all innocence, “Someone stole your time machine?”

Mac sniffed. “You’re going to want to watch your tone.”

Dorothy knew he meant it as a threat (that bag still hovered at the edge of her eyesight) and yet a smile parted her lips. “I’m afraid I can’t think of a thing to help you,” she said. “My apologies.”

A shadow passed over Mac’s face. He swallowed and said, through clenched teeth, “Search her.”

Eliza practically leaped at the chance. She crossed the room in two long strides, and then her hands were running over Dorothy’s cloak, digging into her pockets.

You won’t find anything, Dorothy thought, smug, mere seconds before Eliza withdrew her hand, something white pressed between her fingertips.

“What’s this, little Fox?” Eliza asked. She opened her hand, revealing a folded stack of loose pages.

Dorothy felt her stomach plummet. The Professor’s journal pages. She’d foolishly left them tucked up her sleeve instead of storing them with everything else she hadn’t wanted Mac and the others to discover. And now Eliza had them and there was nothing she could do to keep her from reading them, from learning what had arguably been the Professor’s greatest discovery.

How could she have been so stupid?

Eliza unfolded the pages, her lips quirking. “Diary entries? Have you been keeping a diary, Quinn? How sweet.”

Dorothy had to work hard to keep her smile in place. Her only hope now was that Eliza might not realize how important those pages were.

Throw them away, she prayed, silently. They’re nothing.

“As a matter of fact, I have been keeping a diary, yes.” Dorothy did her best to keep her voice light, trying for a wobbly smile. “Dear Diary, today this horrible girl who I used to work with got a bit mouthy with me, so I slit her—”

Eliza brought the back of her hand down, hard, across Dorothy’s face. Knuckles bit into her cheek, smashing the inside of her mouth right up against her teeth. Her head whipped to the side, pain flaring up her neck. For a few minutes, she saw stars.

When her vision cleared, Dorothy stretched her jaw and spat, cringing when she saw blood hit the floor. Eliza had nearly knocked out one of her teeth.

And the diversion hadn’t worked, anyway. Eliza was frowning down at the journal pages, now, the skin between her brows creased in concentration.

“This looks like something you might be interested in, sir,” she said, waving the journal entries at Mac.

Dorothy felt panic rising inside of her. It was like a bad dream. Things kept getting worse and there was nothing she could do, no way to stop it.

Mac crossed the room and ripped the pages from Eliza’s hands. There was a moment of silence as he read over them, lips moving to help him make sense of the longer, more difficult words.

After several moments, he lifted his eyes to her, one eyebrow cocked. There was a look on his face that Dorothy could only describe as glee. Once again, she’d made this terrible man happy.

“Is this true?” he asked, pointing the pages at her. When Dorothy didn’t answer, he came closer and grabbed the collar of her cloak in one meaty hand. His face was close to hers, now, and she could inhale the stink of his breath. Cigarette smoke and whatever he’d had for lunch. Tuna fish, from the smell of it.

He said, “Are you telling me I could’ve been traveling through time all along, without a bleeding pilot, without a time machine, just by sticking some of this . . . this stuff into my body?”

Dorothy said, through gritted teeth, “Give me a dagger and we can experiment, if you like.”

Mac let her go and took a sudden step backward, excitement glinting in his black eyes. “That’s how he did it, isn’t it? Your friend Asher, that’s how he got to the future with us. He figured this thing out, didn’t he.”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Dorothy said.

Mac smiled at her. “Ah, okay. I see how it’s going to be. You’re mad because I figured out your little secret, so now you don’t want to talk anymore. I get it. Luckily, I brought a friend with me. I figured she might do a better job at loosening your tongue.”

Mac stepped to the side, and Dorothy’s attention slid away from him and landed on