The Art of Stealing Time: A Time Thief Novel by MacAlister Katie Page B

what you’re thinking.”
    “I doubt that you do.”
    “Then you’re fooling yourself. You’re thinking that you’re a Traveller, renowned through the centuries for your ability to manipulate time and lightning, and that it goes against your nature to deny access to both powers as you have been asked to do for the last few months.”
    “I understood the rules of the Watch when I joined,” Gregory said carefully. Then he added with a wry smile, “All right, you knew what I was thinking. I only admit it because I know damned well that you think the same way. You just have better control over yourself.”
    “And that’s exactly what I wanted to talk about—control. I don’t question your dedication to the job at hand, and yet despite your desires to the contrary, you let a woman you hardly know haul you all over the place. You have to ask yourself why you did that, and whether you’re allowing your emotions and desires to rule your mind. I’m sorry to say that if so, it will affect your future as an investigator for the Watch.”
    Gregory was silent while he struggled with his inner self, hating to admit that his cousin was absolutely right, and yet the truth was that he did feel resentment toward the loss of his natural talents. Why was he expected to deny his true nature, when other members of the Watch were not? Oh, he was used to being persecuted for who and what he was—Travellers had always been outside of society, both mortal and immortal—but the demands placed on him by the Watch had been more onerous than he had imagined.
    And yet the reason for his being there with Peter was compelling, and one that he knew was right. Travellers as a whole were an insular group, not mingling with outsiders unless such contact could not be avoided. Over the last few centuries, they had withdrawn even more into their own society as the mortal and immortal worlds had grown more fearful of their powers. The mortals saw them as Gypsies, Romany folk whom they were unable to distinguish from the similar—but quite separate—Travellers. The members of the Otherworld were little better, viewing Gregory and his kind as thieves and worse.
    “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said slowly, knowing in his heart that he couldn’t go back to his life of just a few months ago. Too much had happened since then; he had seen himself and his family through his cousin’s eyes, and he knew that he had to make a stand against the old way of life. “I can swear to you that I’m devoted to the job. To the Watch. To the idea that Travellers must be held accountable for their actions. But at the same time that I fully agree that our people must cease reveling in their status as outcasts, I recognize that it is our very nature to do so. To go against nature itself seems impossible at times. Perhaps you are able to control your need to use your powers because you are . . .”
    “Mahrime?” Peter asked, his eyebrows rising slightly.
    Gregory’s shoulder twitched at the word. “Mahrime” could mean simply an outsider, one who was not a Traveller, or when applied to one of their own people, someone who was unclean. Tainted. Impure. “I was going to say that you and Kiya have distance, growing up outside of the Traveller society, whereas I do not. To us, acting in accordance to our true selves is as natural as breathing.”
    “You don’t need to lecture me about that. I’ve had ample proof that Travellers go blithely about their way regardless of who they hurt or how many laws they break.”
    “And I don’t condone either. I’m simply trying to explain that what you see as impulsiveness is my way of coming to grips with this new way of life. It might be easy for you to not steal time as you go throughout your day, but I assure you that I’m aware every time I pass by a mortal of the potential to steal just a few seconds.”
    To his surprise, his cousin gave him a swift, rough hug. “I know it’s hard fighting what is an