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“Are we in your world?” Una asked. “Breakfast and me?”

“I don’t know,” Rowan answered. “But anything’s possible.”

CHAPTER

7

Carrick got off the train they called the T. He was so used to trains running only underground that it unnerved him when, occasionally, a train would pop up from the safety of the tunnel system. Luckily, his stop was underground. Carrick made his way up the short staircase to the center of this tiny city of Boston. It was so easy to move around this world. No walls, no citizen checks, no Woven. Anyone could get on a train and go anywhere, even clear across the continent, at any time of the day or night. All one needed was money, which was unbelievably easy to steal here.

Without wards protecting the buildings, Carrick could walk up to nearly any property and let himself in without the tenants ever suspecting his presence. The “alarm systems” people used here were a joke. All Carrick had to do was cast a glamour over himself to blend seamlessly with the shadows, wait a while for a tenant to come home, and watch that tenant type in the entry code on the keypad. The same method applied to those bank machines. Watch a mark’s fingers type, pickpocket his card, and off you went with his money. Even more ridiculous were the locks and keys they used on their apartment doors. A nudge from any willstone could knock the inner tumblers into place, opening the door in a moment.

Everyone here was so rich and stupid. This world was one big purse waiting to be robbed. Thieving had never been to Carrick’s taste, but there was something gratifying about how naive the people were in this world. It had made the few days he’d spent here remarkably easy. Carrick had only had to trouble Lillian once, asking for power. And that was to escape Rowan.

His little brother was faster and stronger. He had years of experience being a mechanic on his side. Carrick escaped only because he’d led Rowan into a populate

d area. Carrick didn’t care if he injured or killed innocent bystanders as he ran through traffic, but Rowan did. Next time he wasn’t so sure Rowan would let him go, not even to save innocents. While Carrick learned more about his new skills as a mechanic he’d have to try a different tactic. Facing Rowan head-on would be suicide right now, especially since Rowan was swelling Lily’s ranks with native recruits. Her growing circle of mechanics had some real talent among them, but Lily was vulnerable in other ways. People who cared about other people always were.

It wasn’t a long walk from the station to Carrick’s destination. Lillian had found where Carrick’s target lived in this world. Carrick sometimes forgot James existed because he had so little to do with Lillian’s life, although their estranged relationship was a constant source of gossip-fodder among the bored and vapid city folk back in his world. Apparently, this version of James had little to do with Lily’s life as well.

Carrick let himself into the apartment building, nodded at the sorry excuse for a guard at the front desk, and took the elevator up to the correct floor. He paused at the door, savoring these last few seconds of knowing something that someone else didn’t.

Carrick knew with utter certainty that the man in this apartment would be in agony in a few moments. The man, on the other hand, knew with utter certainty that he would be safe for the rest of the night. For just this one moment they were both right. Two possible universes coexisted inside one.

Carrick slid the bolt on the door aside with the faintest nudge from his willstone and let himself in. With that one choice, the two universes collapsed into one. The one that was filled with agony.

* * *

My father!

“Lily? What happened?” Rowan propped himself up on an elbow, his willstone flaring with magelight. Lily’s panicked face looked like a pale mask in the otherworldly glow. Rowan got up from his mattress on the floor and sat on the edge of her bed.

“He’s in pain. My father’s in pain,” she said through panting breaths.

“Nightmare?” Rowan asked.

“No.” Her brow wrinkled with doubt. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Check. Reach out to your father,” Rowan urged.

Lily tried, but all she felt was numb darkness. “He’s there, but out. Completely unconscious.”

“Deep sleep?”

She looked at the clock. It wasn’t even four a.m. yet. “That would make sense.”

“It could have been his nightmare then,” Rowan said comfortingly. “Deep sleep usually follows vivid dreams. If you don’t wake up, that is.”

Lily flopped back onto her pillows and sighed. “That’s annoying.” She reached up and touched the bare skin at the base of Rowan’s throat, circling her finger slowly around his willstone. “I don’t mind sharing your bad dreams, but my dad’s? I don’t want to accidentally stumble into any of his dreams—bad or good.” A disturbing thought occurred to her. “Especially not a really good one. Ew.”

“Block him out.”

“Yeah. Maybe I’d better.”

Rowan smiled down at her, and a thought occurred to him. “I don’t have as many nightmares in this world.”

“Because your subconscious knows there are no Woven here.”

“Must be it,” he agreed.

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