And he shouldn’t know about people with time abilities.
“Do you have your own brand of magical powers?” I fisted my hands on my hips. “Is that why he told you about me?”
“Yes. No.” He ran his hands over his short hair, and then repeated it, like he forgot what it felt like.
“Do you work for Chronos?”
“No, not Chronos.”
He could see ripples. He knew about time-related abilities. Nothing shocked him, even my quick change from one face to another. Then I remembered something Dad said.
“You work for the Hourglass.” I whipped his jacket off my shoulders and shoved it into his chest.
His face and his fumble gave him away. “Wh—what?”
“Please do not irritate me further by acting like you don’tknow what I’m talking about. That would be a serious mistake.”
“I used to work for the Hourglass, but now I work for your dad.”
“And they sent you?” I asked. “Were there no competent adults available?”
He stared at me for a long time. “I know more about certain subjects than others. Even competent adults.”
A sneaking suspicion crept its way up my spine. “What kind of subjects?”
“Subjects like you.”
“Right.” I started backing up toward the gate that led out to Bourbon.
“Hallie, wait, please.”
I stopped when I saw his eyes. They couldn’t keep a secret. Honesty shone out from behind them.
“You’re more than you think you are, and your ability is only a symptom of something … greater.” He took a steadying breath. “Something huge. Something that could possibly change the world, even save it. I can help you.”
I laughed. So hard I doubled over.
“I don’t think you’re grasping the magnitude of what I’m trying to tell you,” he said seriously.
“What I will be grasping are your man berries in a vise when I turn you over to my dad.”
“He knows who I am and where I’m from. He hired me to help you.”
“Dad knows who you are?” That straightened me right up. “And he made you my bodyguard? Because you’re really, really crappy at it.”
“I tracked you here, didn’t I?”
Touché.
“It was his cover for me. And you weren’t supposed to be leaving the house, so I wasn’t supposed to need to be good at it. But I put a GPS in your bag.”
I smacked him with my purse and then held it open. “Get it out. Now.”
After he removed the GPS and slipped it into his pocket, he looked at Lafitte’s, back at me, and then blew out a deep breath. “I’m really kind of like … a historian.”
“I’m an Aquarius.”
He groaned in frustration.
“So you’re here to make a historical note of what?” I shivered, rubbed my arms, and jerked the jacket back out of his hands, shoving my arms into the sleeves.
“I’m not here as a witness. My specialty is in something called the Infinityglass. I used to think it was a what. Now I know it’s a who. And you’re it.”
He looked at me as if he expected a big gasp, or some sort of physical reaction. I didn’t give him one.
“Hold up a second, Hagrid.” Laughter bubbled to the surface again. “If you think you’re here to tell me how special I am, you can stop. I already know.”
“You what? But … how?”
“Did you really think you were springing something on me?” I hugged myself, wrapping his jacket around my body. “That’s cute. Were you going to teach me the ways of the world, Obi-Wan? Did you think you were my only hope?”
I expected him to crumble under the weight of my sarcasm. Instead, he rested his shoulder against the outer wall of Lafitte’s, and looked all sorts of superior. And knowledgeable. “What if I am?”
His confidence carried knowledge instead of swagger. All I had was enough information to be dangerous.
“How much do you know about who you are, Hallie? Because I bet I know more.”
I shrugged and tried not to look like my next breath depended on hearing what he knew.
“Give me twenty-four hours,” he said. “I promise I can help