“I love him.” Em smiled.
“Listen,” I said, spinning the hat on my finger. “If you people think I’m going to play dress-up—”
“I want a montage.” Em reached in one of the grocery bags and pulled out a bag of clementines. She took a couple out and threw one to Ava, then tossed the rest of the package to Michael, who caught it neatly before stowing it in the crisper drawer of the fridge.
“Montage?” I asked.
“Yeah, like those cheesy eighties movies, where the girl—or guy—tries on all kinds of new clothes and twirls around in front of a full-length mirror and a crowd of friends. To make sure everything works and that her butt doesn’t look too big.”
“Or his butt, right?” I asked. Em was the perfect ray of sarcastic sunshine.
“Right.” She smiled. “So we’ll be right here waiting for you to montage. I’ll try to find some good music. Maybe Pat Benatar or Prince or the Go-Go’s. I think you have the beat, Dune.”
Ava tossed me a plaid ivy cap. “Try that one, too, or I might steal it.”
I caught it easily. “One thing. I’ll try on one thing with one hat, just to make sure—”
“That your butt doesn’t look big. We know.” Em made a shooing motion. “Try to enter at the beginning of the chorus. Bonus if you put a flower between your teeth.”
Michael followed me back to my room with Nate on his heels. “What’s with the wardrobe change?”
“Nothing.” I undid the top three buttons on the white shirt, removed the tags, and pulled it over my head. The sensation of the cloth against my now bare neck gave me the willies.
“How dense do you think I am?” Michael asked. “It’s more than clothes. You cut off your hair.”
Nate dropped into my desk chair. “We’re calling him Bald Chewbacca now.”
“I am not bald.” I threw the crumpled tags at his head. “It’s at least half an inch long.”
“I’m not changing your nickname.” Nate jerked his head in Michael’s direction, and then leaned back on two chair legs. “Either you tell him about the job or I will. But I’m guessing he already knows.”
“Maybe.” Michael watched as I took a pin-striped vest out of my closet. “But I have no problem waiting right here until you give me your take on it, Dune.”
“You want my opinion on things?” I slipped my arms into the vest. “I’ve got time to kill. Maybe you’d like to hear my theories on the existence of the chupacabra instead?”
Neither one of them moved.
“What about my thoughts on the dangers of Warcraft possibly overtaking Star Wars as the franchise gold mine?”
“Lies!” Nate yelled.
I grinned. I knew how to get him distracted.
“Tell us about the job, Dune.” Michael leaned back against my wall and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Fine.” I blew out a sigh. “Liam called me into his office last week. The Infinityglass is a person.”
“What?” Nate sucked wind and almost fell out of his chair. “You knew this for a week and you didn’t tell me?”
“I wanted to, trust me. But Liam wanted it kept quiet.”
Michael didn’t react at all, which confirmed he’d already been privy to the information. Not surprising. Liam had been grooming him to take over the Hourglass for a while, so he usually knew more than the rest of us.
I looked Michael in the eye. “I still don’t understand why Liam wanted me for the job instead of you.”
“You know more about the Infinityglass than anyone, even Liam,” Michael pointed out. “You’re perfect for this.”
“Maybe, but I tend to fly under the radar. This is a little high profile for me.”
“Hello? The Infinityglass is a person? How?” Nate waved his arms over his head. “Can we talk about that part?”
I gave him the short version of Liam’s long explanation. “The Infinityglass has to be activated—”
“Like the Wonder Twins?” Nate mimicked bumping two rings together, making a kapow sound when he pulled his fists away from each other.
His levity disappeared when I stared at him.
“Sorry. Please proceed.”
“We don’t know what causes the activation, but something kicks the gene into gear,” I explained.
Michael spoke up, more confirmation that Liam had completely filled him in. “While we all activated in puberty, it takes more than that to get the Infinityglass going, and the connection doesn’t always happen. That’s why the ‘sightings’ are so limited.”
“But we have Lily,” I said, “and she nailed down a location. The girl lives in New Orleans, and she happens to be Teague’s daughter.”
“Teague’s daughter? The Infinityglass is human, and she’s Teague’s daughter. Poor kid, to have that for a parent.” Nate dropped the chair back to all four legs with a thud. “I need a few years to take this in.”
“You can’t have years. Liam and I are going to Louisiana in five days.”
“You’re going to help her. I can get on board with that.” Nate nodded thoughtfully. “But if Teague’s her mom, how are you going to get to her?”
“Teague isn’t involved in her life. She lives with her dad, and he has a badass reputation. Sort of a … mobster.”
“A mobster who’s the true head of Chronos,” Michael added.
“So you’re going to New Orleans to meet a gangster and his … legendary daughter, and this requires short hair and a beefcake, hipster vibe?” Nate didn’t sound convinced.
“It requires that I look responsible. This guy has to take me seriously, and his daughter needs all the help she can get. And I’m not a hipster.”
“Hipstercrite, maybe. Hold on a second.” Nate held up a hand. “Why was Teague looking for the Infinityglass if the Infinityglass is her daughter? Surely she knows?”
“Teague wasn’t looking for the Infinityglass. She was looking for Jack, who was looking for the Infinityglass,” Michael explained. “Teague was either trying to keep Jack away from the truth, or there was something else she wanted on the Skroll.”
“It sounds like Teague is protecting her daughter.” Nate leaned back on two chair legs again. “Why are you going to New Orleans? Why not just make a phone call?”
“Because every source tells us that Teague isn’t to be trusted, including her husband. Liam talked to him. He wants us to come to NOLA as much as we want to go. I might be staying.” I ran my hand over my head. “Hence the hairdo.”
A sudden blast of music made us all jump, and the bass thumped hard enough to bounce a couple of pencils off my desk.
Grateful for the interruption, I asked, “Is that …?”
“New Kids on the Block,” Nate said, already dancing in his chair.
I looked at Michael. “Em’s going to make me spin around, isn’t she?”
“Oh no, my man.” Michael clapped me on the shoulder. “She’s going to make you twirl.”
Five days later, Liam and I were in his truck, heading for the Nashville airport.
The blasting heat inside the cab made the skin on my face tighten. An early winter had settled into middle Tennessee with a passion. Seventy-five degrees on Halloween, twenty-nine the next day, and it hadn’t warmed up much since.
“Not to mess with your creaky old-man bones,” I said, “but I’m already a sweat puddle.”
Liam smiled and turned the heat down. “You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not worried, just hot.” I might have believed it myself if my voice hadn’t cracked in the middle of the sentence. “Are you sure about this?”
“I am.”
As he merged onto I-65 north, I fidgeted with the seat belt, pulling it above and below my shoulder to find a comfortable position. Finally, I just sat on my hands to keep them still. I was too broad in the shoulders to get truly comfortable, anyway.