Rain fell hard on the sleepy Appalachian town of
Hollow Glen.
Mara pulled her cloak tighter, muttering a charm
to keep dry. She was late for the coven’s month
ly fire circle.
A crash echoed from the woods.
She turned just in time to see a man stumble int
o the clearing—tall, broad, soaked through, and
bleeding from his side.
"Hey," he said, voice raspy. "You
real?"
Mara narrowed her eyes. "That depends. Who sent
you?"
"No one," he groaned, clutching his
ribs. "I was
at a charity game. Then... I don’t know. Woke u
p in a ditch."
"You’re not from around here."
"Nope. I’m a quarterback."
"From where?"
"The future."
Mara blinked. "You’re bleeding magic."
He looked confused. "I’m bleeding what?"
She stepped closer, sensing the strange energy r
adiating from his skin.
"You’re cursed," she said. "Or
bound. Something’
s pulling time around you."
"I just want to go home," he said.
"Back to the
field."
She studied him. His eyes were haunted. Not like
a man lost in the woods—but one who’d been torn
from his own life.
"What’s your name?"
"Jace."
"Jace what?"
"Just Jace. That’s all they call me."
Mara frowned. "Come inside. Before you vanish co
mpletely."
He hesitated. "You’re not going to turn me into
a newt or something?"
"I might," she said. "Depends on
whether you’re
lying."
They walked to her cottage, the wind howling beh
ind them.
Inside, the air smelled of sage and ironwood.
"You live alone?" Jace asked.
"Most witches do."
"You don’t seem like the kind I saw in
movies."
"What kind is that?"
"The evil one."
Mara smirked. "I’m not evil. Just tired of touri
sts."
She lit a fire, then pulled a vial from a shelf.
"Drink this," she said.
He eyed it warily.
"It’s not poison," she said. "
It’s truthroot tea
."
He sipped. Flinched. Then stared at her.
"I don’t belong here," he said. "
I was on a plan
e. Then I was in the woods."
"How old are you?"
"Twentyeight."
"Where do you live?"
"Atlanta."
"When?"
He looked confused. "Present day."
Mara’s breath caught.
He wasn’t lying.
"You timeslipped," she said. "And
it wasn’t natu
ral."
"How do I fix it?"
"You don’t," she said. "Not alone."
He sat heavily on her couch. "Then help me."
She studied him. The curse was real—and it was e
ating at his soul.
"Why me?"
"You’re the first person who didn’t run screamin
g."
She smiled faintly. "That’s not saying much."
He looked at her. "You’re the only one who can s
ee what’s wrong."
She met his gaze.
And saw the truth.
Their fates were already tangled.
"We start at dawn," she said.
He nodded. "I’ll be ready."
The next morning, they trekked into the forest.
Mara led, holding a lantern even though the sun
was rising.
"You always carry that?" Jace asked.
"Only when I’m hunting time fractures."
He blinked. "Time what?"
"Come on, quarterback," she said.
"You wanted an
swers."
They reached an old stone circle, halfburied in
moss.
"This is where it happened," she whispered.
"What?"
"You were pulled through here."
He stepped forward—and the air shimmered.
A door of light opened, humming with energy.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," he said.
"Nope," she said. "Welcome to the
thin place."
He looked at her. "You’re coming with me, right?
"
She hesitated.
"If I leave Hollow Glen, I might lose my
power."
"You’re the only one who can help me."
She stared at the door. Then at him.
And chose.
She stepped through.
The world shifted.
They landed in a parking lot. Neon lights blinke
d. Music thumped.
Jace looked around. "We’re back."
Mara blinked. "Your time."
He grinned. "My world."
Then he froze.
A group of men approached—dark suits, serious fa
ces.
One stepped forward. "Jace, where have you been?
"
"Try not to panic," Mara whispered.
"Too late," he muttered.
"Who is this?" the man asked.
"My... friend."
"Friend?"
"She helped me."
The man eyed Mara. "You sure she’s not a
witch?"
Mara smiled. "Only on Tuesdays."
The man didn’t laugh.
Later, in Jace’s apartment, they talked.
"You were missing for three weeks," he
said. "No
one could find you."
"Three weeks?"
"Time moves differently here."
She nodded. "I know."
He looked at her. "So what now?"
"You play football. I go home."
"You’re leaving?"
"If I stay too long, my magic gets unstable."
He looked disappointed.
"You saved my life," he said. "
Twice."
"You owe me one," she said.
He grinned. "Invite me to Hollow Glen
sometime."
She laughed. "Only if you bring snacks."
They stood in silence.
Then he said, "You know... fate brought us toget
her."
She looked at him. "Maybe it did."
He stepped closer.
"Then maybe it’s not over."
She met his gaze.
And smiled.
"Maybe not."
