Revelle

With a squeal, Millie wrapped her arms around Colette and me. Laughing, we struggled to stay upright as the applause shook the stage.

We’d absolutely crushed it.

Every leap was perfectly executed, every twist both graceful and tantalizingly dangerous. Our Revelle blood had thrummed with the music, the magic crackling in the air. During that last song, I’d grabbed more, more, more lightstrings, not stopping until I glimpsed the bottom of my inkwell. Only then did I rein in my power.

The crowd had pelted the stage with gems as they whistled and cheered. Each piece was an offering to the Revelle coffers, security against whatever the Chronoses were planning next.

Nana greeted us with towels and water. “You were amazing, my darlings!”

Colette chugged her water and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I still think that third sequence needs three rotations, not two. You almost had it this time.”

From Colette, that was a compliment. She was constantly trying to squeeze more advanced routines out of me and Millie, but neither of us could keep up with her. “Maybe next time.”

The corners of Colette’s mouth twitched. “Other than that, we were the cat’s meow.”

Millie had been begging to pull Roger up onstage for weeks. She’d even gotten Colette on board, but I always stuck to the routine. Tonight, I’d been spontaneous. Fun, some might say.

Jamison knew, and he hadn’t looked smug. He’d just grinned and grinned.

“Go change, ladies. The reception is in five minutes.” Nana shooed us toward the dressing rooms.

With a grimace, Colette tightened her bun. “Sometimes I hate this part.”

Millie looped her arm around Colette’s. “I’ll give you first choice tonight, if you like.”

“What makes you think you’ll get your choice?”

“I always do. Besides, it’s my birthday. Cake in the dressing room to celebrate? Luxe?”

I dabbed at my face with a damp towel. “Sounds great.”

“Really?”

They hadn’t invited me in a while, and I hadn’t accepted in even longer. “Of course.”

Millie’s excited squeal could have broken my heart.

Uncle Wolffe barreled down the narrow hallway. “Luxe, get changed and head to the Fun House. Colette, help her. You know which outfit.”

“The Fun House?” I stole a glance at my cousins. “Why?”

“Dewey reserved the Diamond Room.” Uncle Wolffe dabbed at the white powder on his brow. “Looks like he’s ready to try Revelle magic for himself.”

The backstage racket hummed to a stop.

Dewey was going to give me a jewel. The could-be future mayor of Charmant trusted me to enchant him. “How many carats?”

My uncle grinned. “Remember to pace yourself. Make a show of using the whole thing in one sitting, but pocket the rest. We need to hold on to that influence as long as we can.”

He knew I didn’t need the jewel to charm Dewey, but it helped. Besides, Colette and Millie were listening. “Got it.”

“The reception’s starting in a few. Better get going. And Luxe?” Uncle Wolffe squeezed my shoulder. “Nice work.”

I’d done it. I’d earned the trust—and influence—we needed over Charmant’s bootlegger.

“Sorry, Mills,” I said as he disappeared around the bend.

She shrugged. “Charm Dewey into gifting me a case of his best bubbly, and we’re even.”

“At least you don’t have to pretend to like him anymore,” Colette added.

“I do like him.”

Colette studied me but said nothing.

Didn’t I? He was kind and generous, and he’d been nothing but a gentleman. Regardless, it was going to be a relief not having to dip into my little inkwell to keep him happy all the time. “I won’t mind letting the jewel do the work,” I admitted.

“So you are human, after all.” She took my arm. “Let’s get you ready.”

The dress was imported from New York: violet beads with a crisscrossing black inlay that hugged me tighter than a glove, dipping low over my chest in a sweetheart neckline. Millie squeezed me into a lilac brassiere that gave me the illusion of cleavage, though it made it hard to breathe. Black fishnet stockings—popular in the Big Tent long before the flappers copied us—and an amethyst necklace finished the look. Colette applied dark eyeshadow to give me glittering smoky eyes and scarlet lipstick that made my lips startlingly full.

She stepped back to admire her work. “You may not be able to walk in that dress, but it sure does the trick.”

I took a few steps, but the fabric rode up my thighs. “I’ll just sit the whole time.”

From her perch on the bed, Millie opened her mouth then closed it again. Our eyes met in the mirror. “What is it?”

“You look like Aunt Catherine,” she said softly.

My mother. I glanced in the mirror, and for the briefest of moments, my wide-eyed, curly-haired mother stared back at me. The dress squeezed the air from my lungs until I turned away.

Millie scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. “If Dewey’s fantasy is particularly dark . . . don’t be afraid to use the whole jewel and not turn a profit.”

“It’s okay to just get it over with.” Colette smiled guiltily. “We’ve all done it. Even me.”

If the gem was large enough, I could use it for weeks, maybe even months, to give me a break from the constant headaches and nosebleeds.

My cousins walked me to the Diamond Room. Trevor Edwardes waited outside, fidgeting in his three-piece suit. His eyes widened as we approached. “Miss Revelle, you look . . . Wow.”

“Why, thank you, Trevor.” I pulled the dress down my thighs a bit.

He blushed. “I, ah, meant Millie.”

Colette snorted. I elbowed her in the ribs while Millie stepped closer to the Edwardian, batting her lashes. “Care to join me in the Fun House?”

He looked stricken. “There is absolutely nothing I’d like to do more right now, but Mr. Chronos needs me to guard the door.”

“At least I know you mean it.” With a little wave, Millie took Colette’s elbow and pulled her down the hall.

As their voices faded, I smoothed my dress. “He’s ready for me?”

“Yes. He’s waiting inside.”

Chin up. Shoulders back, just as my mother always said. She’d prepared me for the Fun House from that very first magic lesson.

As I reached for the door, Trevor touched my arm. “Use your inkwell.”

He knew of my inkwell. Just how many of my thoughts had he read?

“Too many. You really need to practice those techniques I showed you.” Remorse flashed over his face as he pushed open the door.

A man rose from the bed, his movements sharp, uncomfortable. Not Dewey.

I flashed him my stage smile. “Oopsie! Wrong room.”

The doorknob wouldn’t move. Trevor had locked me inside. With a stranger.

“Wait.” The man removed his hat, twisting it nervously between his hands. When he lifted his eyes to mine, I gasped.

A Chronos. Dark hair, an even darker suit jacket folded on the bed. Midthirties. The spitting image of George, except he wasn’t glaring at me.

“I think there’s been a mistake.” Risking my back to him, I banged on the door as loudly as I dared, but Trevor didn’t open it.

I was going to murder him.

“Luxe?” The man stepped closer, his fingers squeezing the rim of his hat hard enough to break it. There was a jewel in his pocket—a big one. My Revelle blood warmed at its proximity, even as warning bells sounded in my head.

I kept my voice calm, my back to him as I replied, “Dewey’s waiting for me.”

“You don’t recognize me.”

That voice. I had heard a version of it every day for weeks, though never dripping with such bitterness.

I turned around slowly, my pulse thudding through my ears. “Dewey?”

His hands curled into fists, and tears filled his eyes—yes, his eyes were the same. Everything else about him was familiar, too, only warped, like a painting left out to soak in the rain.

He’d aged years. More than a decade, if not two.

I tried to keep my wits about me, but I couldn’t stop staring at his strange face, both familiar and foreign and just wrong. “You—traveled?”

“You can’t even stand to look at me,” he spat.

Use your inkwell, Trevor had said. He knew I’d be shocked, and that my shock would rattle Dewey. He could have at least warned me.

I tapped into my secondary power, the usual stabbing pain greeting me with renewed fervor, like metal scraping against metal inside my skull. Turning away from Dewey, I bit the insides of my cheeks, swallowing my dread, swallowing the bitter taste of iron, swallowing the excruciating pain until his lightstring flickered into sight.

His emotions swirled over his head in a torrent of anger and regret. There had to be a reason he’d traveled back so far. All I had to do was get him comfortable and he’d explain.

My God. He’d lost his twenties. Part of his thirties, too.

I took those strange hands and forced myself to look into his familiar eyes. “You caught me off guard,” I cooed. A little bit of lust warmed his lightstring, though it was quickly eclipsed by frustration. I dug in deeper. Thanks to the show, my inkwell was fairly low, but I couldn’t afford to be stingy with it. You trust me. You wish to share this burden with me.

He nodded tersely to himself. “It’s a bit of a shock, of course. When I saw myself in the mirror . . .” Disgust exploded in his lightstring.

You are still attractive to me. You’re happy with me.

“You don’t look that different! Truly. I just wasn’t expecting you to be, ah, matured.” I led him toward the bed. Damn this room and its lack of chairs. “How far back did you travel?”

“Far enough to look older than my goddamn brother, even though he’s abused his magic our whole lives.” He kicked at a nearby table, sending the pitcher of water atop it crashing to the floor.

With a yelp, I backed away, losing my grasp on his lightstring.

His gaze flitted to me. There was no warmth in his eyes. No surprise, either, only disappointment, as if my being frightened was letting him down. I picked up his lightstring and infused so much trust and calm into it, my vision blackened at the edges. This was still the same Dewey. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

His will relented in my grasp before his face relaxed. “The last time you saw me was at breakfast this morning, yes?”

“I saw you in the executive suite, too. Right before my act.” He’d looked just like his usual self as he was talking to Jamison about God knows what.

“I remember.” He nodded to himself, his eyes distant. “For you, an hour has passed, but for me, tonight was weeks ago. I’ve already lived through this entire summer. For me, tonight was the inauguration. We were just there together before I had to travel backward.”

The election was nine days away, and the inauguration was more than a month after that, in mid-September. The math failed me. I couldn’t even think straight.

He watched me intently. “A lot has happened in the last seven weeks. We’ve grown close. But you’re looking at me like I’m a stranger.”

Seven weeks, he’d traveled. Which meant he’d shaved seven hundred weeks off his life, which, in years, was . . . ten years? Fifteen?

Focus. He’d lived seven weeks with me that I couldn’t remember, and now he was back here. The same Dewey, but with all these experiences only he could recall.

His lightstring was sad, but it brightened a smidge when I pressed my hands into his. I can handle the truth. I am with you. “So we won the election.”

His smile was the same, at least, though faint cracks framed his mouth like curtains. “I won indeed.”

“Then why did you travel?” I asked, careful to keep my tone light.

A storm of black darkened his emotions, swift and thick. “George,” he snarled. “He tried to kill me. My own brother shot me before the inauguration ceremony.”

He fell to his knees with a desperate sound. I pressed into his lightstring so hard, I had to bite my tongue to keep from yelling out. Inkwell be damned, I had to know.

“You won,” I whispered. “Which means you can win again. And you’re safe now.”

“He went after us both. I found you . . .” His voice broke, his anger flailing against my infusion of calm. “I found you on the ground backstage, covered in blood. He killed you because he knew you were the key to our success. And then he aimed the gun at me because he knew I’d travel to save you. But I traveled too damn far!”

Emotions exploded like fireworks through his lightstring. Horror. Rage. Despair. Still I held on, repeating the same calming words: You’re safe with me. You wish to tell me everything.

“The only reason I’m alive is because of my magic. I should have just traveled back a few minutes, but I had a split second to react and—I panicked. The next thing I knew, I was in the executive suite, reliving the same blasted show I’d already seen. Only now I look like this.” The reds of his lightstring faded to blue as his remorse took center stage.

First his uncle, now his brother. No wonder he was beside himself. The Chronoses were desperate to stop him from winning. To stop us from winning. And even though they’d failed, his escape had cost him over a decade.

“You survived. That’s what you needed to do, and you did it.” I rubbed his hand with my thumb. He was still an attractive man, just in his thirties instead of twenty-one. I’d get used to it. “There’s no preparing yourself for that sort of betrayal. Besides, you won.”

For now. They would come after him again.

But would Dewey risk traveling again? After losing all this time, would he still be willing to use his magic to stop them from coming after me? Or my family?

Beneath the mess of his regret, genuine feelings for me lingered. I grabbed hold before they were eclipsed by his anger, my magic multiplying them.

He took my other hand, pulling me closer. “In all the timelines I’ve seen, that was the first time I’ve won. It was damn near perfect. We were perfect.”

Timelines, as in multiple? He said he’d traveled once, not over and over. “How many timelines have you seen?” I asked warily.

“It’s no accident I traveled back to this moment, you know. I mean, I didn’t plan to travel this far, but . . . maybe some part of me wanted to experience tonight again.”

Revelle magic made an impression, apparently. I leaned closer. “Was it a good night?”

His hand cupped my face. “It will be. But first there’s something I need to ask you.”

His lightstring, though excited, was tinged yellow. Nervous.

Dewey dropped to the floor. He dropped to the floor and got down on one knee.

Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God . . .

“You are my most valuable asset, Luxe. From now on, you are my family. The Revelles will never want for anything. All you need to do is marry me.” He reached into his pocket.

My heart beat a terrified rhythm against my ribs as he opened a black velvet box, revealing a thick platinum band. Twists of metal rose like jaws to hold an enormous jewel. One that wasn’t there. No, whatever fat diamond had sat in that setting was still in his pocket. He’d clawed it out.

Dewey didn’t trust me. Not enough to give me a jewel.

“You control the hearts of Charmant, and I control time itself. Together, we’re unstoppable. We’re a perfect match: the Night District’s most dazzling jewel and the future mayor. Charmant’s new beginning starts right here, right now. All you need to do is say yes, and our hearts will be joined forever.”

I gripped his lightstring tighter to buy myself a minute. I couldn’t marry Dewey. I didn’t want to marry anyone. This was never part of the plan. He was supposed to become the mayor, not my husband. My family would be safe, I would be free, and we’d all be rich.

“We can be wed right away. I’ll have Trevor fetch a priest.”

“I—I’m only eighteen.”

His lightstring warmed with affection. “And I’m only twenty-one.”

Twenty-one, going on forty.

“Half the girls in New York are married by your age,” he continued.

“But not on Charmant.”

His face betrayed nothing, but darkness gathered in his lightstring. Anger. “I know this started as a business arrangement, but you care for me, Luxe. I can feel it when we’re together.”

My magic had been too convincing. “You’ve had seven weeks to date me. I’m still catching up.”

He leaned closer. “I’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman, have I not?”

“You have—”

“I brought you your favorite flowers. I let a Strattori sprain my ankle to spare your cousin. I made nice with your bitchy grandmother even though she spits at me like a feral animal every time I walk by. I even used my magic to save your life when you fell on opening night.” He stared at me, genuinely confused. “But still you refuse me?”

I gaped at the man in front of me. These things were chores to him, tasks to accomplish on his path to some goal. Had he been pretending to be kind the whole time? Was that the carefulness that was always present in his lightstring?

“Even now, I just sacrificed an entire decade off my life to save yours—and that’s not enough to impress the Radiant Ruby.” He folded his arms tightly, his cold gaze pinning me in place. “You truly are heartless. The ice princess, indeed.”

Gone was the eager-to-please politician, and worse, the emotions in his lightstring were more genuine than ever. No filters of caution, only raw, honest feelings. I tried to calm him down, but his emotions swirled so quickly, it was hard to know which to grab. “I didn’t say no; I just need a moment to think.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

“What? No!” My magic scraped against the insides of my skull as I searched for the right combination to calm him. Trust. Contentment. Lust. Anything to get him to stop trying to marry me long enough that I could find a way out of this mess.

His face relaxed as my magic took root. Pulling me closer, he rested his hands around my waist. “Marry me, and the winter theater is yours. I’ll give it to you as a wedding present.”

Even if I married him, it wouldn’t matter if he put the deed in my name; it’d still be considered his property. Like me.

Luxe Chronos.

“Think of how unstoppable we’ll be. You’ll sway public opinion in our favor, and I’ll control time so everything goes our way. We’ll start a new dynasty. Our children will charm history on a whim.”

Children. With him.

“Was this your intention since the beginning?” I managed to ask.

“Of course, my sweet.” He traced a slow circle on my lower back, sending a chill down my spine. “If all I wanted was to have you, I would have had you already.”

I recoiled inside, but I buried my disgust. Every instinct urged me to get out of this room, but I couldn’t leave. Not until I understood who he truly was.

You trust me, I whispered. You don’t need to hold back. Say what you truly think.

He chuckled softly. “You know the best part of being a Chronos? Even if you say no, I can just rewind the clock and ask again. I have all the time in the world.”

Seven hells, I was trapped. One wrong move, and he’d turn back time, redoing this conversation until it went exactly how he wanted. Adrenaline shot through my veins, every instinct preparing me to run. But there was no escaping a time traveler. Only charming him.

Leaning forward, I buried my disgust and pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks—the cheeks of a grown man now. “When you put a big fat diamond in that setting, I’ll marry you.”

He laughed, his lightstring swirling with desire. “You’re perfect, you know. The crown jewel of my investments. And you’re mine.”

An investment. A possession.

He lifted my chin. “Are you ready to make my dreams come true?”

“Are you ready to give me a jewel?”

“You truly expect me to pay for you?”

“This is the Fun House.” I kept my tone light, not betraying the cold trickle down my spine. That diamond was still in his pocket. “Don’t you want to experience Revelle magic?”

“But I’m the boss, aren’t I?”

My heart hammered in my chest. “You own the winter theater. Not the Big Tent.”

Not me.

He twisted the strap of my gown hard enough to snap it. I yelped, which only made his smile grow. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll marry me.”

“Will I, now?” I stepped backward, my knees hitting the back of the bed. The door was six paces away, but I couldn’t run, couldn’t risk him traveling for a do-over. Fear coiled in my belly, and it took everything I had to keep my head high, my focus on his lightstring. I had to keep him calm, but I also had to know what the hell was going through his mind.

You trust me. You wish to be honest with me.

“You will. Because as my wife, your family will have true power in Charmant once again. I can appoint them to whatever position pleases you. The rest of the Chronoses will leave you alone because I can undo anything they do. Going after the Revelles would be a waste of their magic. So you’ll marry me. I may have to waste even more time redoing this conversation so you don’t absolutely despise me, but in the end, you will be mine.”

I gaped at him, at the cruel smile and laughing eyes, and for the first time, I saw him, truly saw him.

Worst of all, he was right. If I married him, the Revelles would prosper. And if I didn’t . . . what would he do?

He controlled the liquor, the winter theater, and, with the targets on our backs for publicly supporting him, he controlled our safety, too. He had us completely and utterly in his grasp.

He chuckled. “Well, my sweet, as fun as this has been, I have worked far too hard for you to look at me like that.”

No. Before he could travel, I poured an enormous whopping of arousal over him. He cried out, falling back onto the bed. I kept exaggerating his desire, talons clawing against my dwindling magic as I leaned over him. “You said tonight was going to be memorable.”

You’re having the time of your life.

He rose abruptly, hands gripping my wrist. “You know what I want? I want you to beg for me, on your knees.”

“What?”

His smile morphed into a dark, cruel thing. “Tell me you want me. Tell me you’re nothing without me.”

Of course. A humiliation fantasy. “You need a jewel for that.” And then I’d conjure him to believe I was doing as he asked while I remained firmly on my feet.

“Do I?” He arched a dark brow. Testing me.

He was trying to break me, to push me far enough to prove just how much I needed him. “I’m the star,” I reminded him. “Better make it a big one.”

He ran a long finger down my jaw, the slope of my neck. “You think you’d be the star without me? Think the Big Tent would still be standing without me? Without my liquor?”

My eyes snapped to his, and his smile grew. He knew he had me. Knew we needed him.

No part of me wanted to kneel in front of a Chronos, but I lowered myself to the floor.

“I want you,” I said, my voice mechanical, my head high.

“You’re nothing without me. Say it.” I hardly recognized his rough voice.

“Absolutely not,” I hissed.

But my refusal only excited him. He circled me like a tiger stalking its prey. “Say you need me, or I’ll have Colette fall in a much larger hole next time.”

I gaped at him, at the predatory glean in his eyes. “That was you?”

“Of course it was me. Nothing happens unless I want it to.”

My God. He’d hurt my family so he could play savior. And now he wanted to humiliate me because it turned him on.

“Now say it.”

Angry tears sprang into my eyes, but there was no way I was letting them fall. “I’m nothing without you.”

My voice was broken. Desperate. Not at all the Radiant Ruby I’d been earlier tonight.

Who was I kidding? For weeks, I’d been desperate enough to overlook the rumors circling him. Like the other bootleggers who’d disappeared, or the way he jacked up prices for the hoteliers, making them completely dependent on him. The winter theater, the acts of kindness, the careful watching of his every word—it was all a pretty trap, and I’d waltzed right into it.

Worse, I’d brought my family with me.

Unable to stand it another moment, I threw everything I had into my magic, crying out from the icy pain. He fell backward on the bed.

Jewel or no jewel, I’d make him think he’d had the night of his life, so he wouldn’t reset the clocks, robbing me of what I’d just learned: he was a wolf masquerading as a sheep.

You’re having the best night of your life. This is ecstasy.

Careful not to touch him, I doused him in desire. The space between my eyebrows throbbed in protest, wetness dripping from my nostrils as I emptied my strange magic. He closed his eyes, his hungry smile making my stomach twist. Before he could reach for me again, I threw as much exhaustion as I dared down his lightstring. You’re feeling completely satisfied—and very sleepy.

His body slackened. Stilled.

I forced myself to check his pulse. Still there.

Wife, he’d said. Forever.

Slipping into the sheets beside him, I leaned as far away from him as I could.

In all the timelines I’ve seen, that was the first time I’ve won.

How many timelines had he seen? He could have been jumping back a few seconds here, a few minutes there, to curate my impression of him. To make me like him. Trust him. Kiss him.

And, in nine days, with my help, he might become the most powerful man in Charmant.

Those damn tears still threatened, but I didn’t let them fall. If he woke up and saw me upset, he’d erase the whole night, and I’d forget what lurked under that pleasant mask, that perpetually cautious lightstring. From now on, I’d have to charm him every second of every day.

I was trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.

My whole life, I’d believed we held the magic, the power. We made dreams come true.

Just never our own.