Page 146 of Irreversible

My stomach tightens, and a sharp pressure builds in my chest.

The name catches in my mind—Leonard Vincent. When Tanner first said it, I almost laughed. It sounded too ordinary, too human. Not like the monster I’ve always called “The Timekeeper.”

I remind myself he’s gone, that he’s forgotten me. He’s a businessman, the worst kind of narcissist, and I’m just a loosethread in his web. He wouldn’t waste his time chasing down a woman tied to his black-market ring. It’s too risky, too stupid, too…beneath him.

My lungs deflate.

I gaze at Tanner for several seconds, waiting for more, waiting forsomething. I try to read him, try to peel back every dirt-shrouded layer.

And I see it, clear as day, hiding in the depths of his regretful brown eyes.

I’m not wrong.

He knows exactly who Isaac is, and not even his well-trained detective mask can hide the truth from my inherent instincts.

One day, he’ll cave.

But today is not that day.

“Fine,” I murmur, peering down at my feet and grinding my teeth together. I pause for a moment before I spin around, my hair flying with me as I shoot him a halfhearted wave over my shoulder. “See you next month, Detective. I’ll bring blueberry scones.”

A few members of the department whoop and cheer.

Tanner’s grumble sees me out the door. “Can’t wait.”

35

Meanwhile…

Ifind her waiting for me in a hotel in Bucharest.

I’m buying a pack of Chesterfields from a twenty-four-hour tobacco shop when a boy of around eight taps my elbow, hands me a keycard, and points to the building across the road. Then he darts away, leaving me to decide whether this is a trap or something else. For some reason, my gut goes with the latter.

Something else, it is.

With my heart beating heavily, I cross the city street, quietly letting myself into room 238.

Illuminated by soft lamplight, she’s pale-limbed and petite, spread out like an offering in black lace. Long, bronze-gold curls fan out over the edge of the bed like a waterfall, painted with streaks of grisly red. A steady drip falls from the ends onto the floor.

Tap, tap, tap.

Her blue eyes are empty, her throat slashed open from ear to ear.

I cross the room and pick up the tiny glass trinket sitting on the side table.

Then I smash it under my boot.

Necks are much more difficult to snap than the movies make it look. The one beneath my hands now is thick and muscley, like the guy it belongs to. Not worth the effort. His trachea will be much easier to crush, and suffocation is just as effective.

But first…

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me.” I lean in inches from his ear. “Where are they?”

His lips clamp shut. It’s the third time I’ve asked. Mind you, this is after shattering one of his knees, breaking an arm, dislocating the other shoulder, and busting his nose.

Still, nothing.

“Okay then, let’s try a different question: where’s your boss?” Digging my knees into his chest until I hear something crack, I loosen my hands to give himjustenough air.

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