Shadow Boxer: NA Fantasy/Time Travel (Tesla Time Travelers Book 2) (11 page)

I fold my guest list and leaflet and tuck them in my clutch then check Nikola’s progress. Another couple is at the doorway with him, making a total of twelve so far.

Twelve Richie-Riches. Most of them probably geniuses if he’s selected them.

I sigh and set my clutch on the table next to my plate. I’m not exactly sure what Nikola expects of me tonight. Everyone knows I make a shitty date—even a fake one. I suppose if I could keep my mouth shut and do what I’m told, they’d go better. Guys aren’t keen on chicks who talk back. Except Constantine. He seems to enjoy it. Explaining tonight might have been interesting. He’s not the kind of guy who’d ever go for pomp and ridiculous. Picturing him in a tux makes me smile and I relax. All I have to do is make it through tonight, pretend to be arm candy, and make Nikola like me.

Surely even I can’t eff that up.

In the corner of the room, a string quartet plays softly. Mami would be proud. She’s always trying to jam culture in our veins. Too bad mine are filled with gasoline.

The music matches my outfit, and I finger the beading on my lap while the notes swirl around me. On the second rotation, a delicate string of lightning trails my motion, pulsing softly with the music. As the first song segues into the next, the tight band of tension around my chest loosens and my shoulders relax. I swirl my thumbs over the beads on my clutch, quieting my lightning.

A couple arrives at my table, and as the short man and his shorter wife ponder the centerpiece, I study it again. The metal scaffolding is intricately precise—balanced and strong like my bike frames. I’m assuming the ball is regular glass.

Before I have a chance to chat up Short and Shorter, the remainder of our table arrives. Two more couples, and a seat for Nikola.

I lead with Sorority 101, smiling and letting everyone else do the talking. “How are you? Who are you? What do you do?”

“Senator.”

“Oil tycoon, in town for meetings.”

“Actress.”

It’s an adventurous mix, and not one scientist among them. I breathe a sigh of relief. This I can handle.

Nikola arrives without introduction or comment. As he slides into his spot next to me, I turn and smile. He tries on a smile, but it’s an awkward one, so he gives up halfway through. The oil tycoon blurts out a question about the centerpiece. Before Nikola turns to address him, he whispers, “Don’t think I’ve forgot about your stunt.”

I drop my head and pretend to examine my silverware. From his tone, I can’t tell if he’s mad or wants to know more. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m not so sure.

Nikola gently rebuffs the oil tycoon, promising answers soon. I shake off my insecurities and ask the actress about her next work.

Plates arrive for the ladies, and Nikola loses himself to the contents of his own meal, as if measuring them. I carry the conversation further with our guests as the men receive their plates, and I wonder at this one beside me. Whether genius or madman, he’s certainly no social butterfly.

As we finish our dinner, Nikola excuses himself and coffee arrives to cover his awkward departure. With each step toward the podium he stands a little taller and strides a little more purposefully, as if the walk infuses him with confidence. As he reaches for the microphone, he’s a completely different individual. A showman grabs the mike and leans forward to address the room.

“At the center of your table sits my newest invention, a wireless conductor able to power cities.” As he speaks, waiters come around and flip a switch at the base of each of the towers. A small vibration rumbles through the table. The actress twitters in her seat and the oilman warily scoots his chair back.

I force my mouth closed and lean forward, elbows on the table.

“You are about to witness a small-scale experiment I have conducted over a thousand times. Soon, a full-scale tower will exist on Long Island and many throughout New York. Tonight, I’m asking for your support.”

The waiters move to the front of the room and roll massive trays of lightbulbs to the stage until they surround Nikola. When he stands in the center of a couple hundred lightbulbs, he raises his hand. In it, he holds a small box with a black knob on the top. As he turns the knob, the orbs in the center of the tables glow with a soft, blue light.

Everyone scoots back.

I have a century filled with electricity to stem my fear. But my heart rate still escalates. I’m about to witness all the history I sloughed.

Small tendrils snake out from the center of the orb, crawling and snapping against the inside of the glass. A smile spreads across my face. I’ve seen these before. It’s like the static electricity balls we played with as kids. I’m sure if I touch it, my hair will stand on end.

With another twist of the knob, the lightbulbs surrounding Nikola glow. He turns the knob again, and the light from orbs and lightbulbs intensifies.

People are getting nervous.

And this is not having the desired effect.

I understand the impressiveness of wireless energy. In fact, I’m blown away this kind of ability was invented a century ago and we’re not using it. If tonight goes bad for Nikola, he won’t be in a real chatty mood after dinner, let alone want me hanging around.

Tonight is my only chance to win him over, because he won’t give me another.

I ease forward in my chair and set my napkin on the table. I’m afraid any quick movements at this point will send this entire crowd bolting. I reach toward the orb.

And hope I’m right.

The blue tendrils inside jump and sizzle. The closer my fingers get, the more the bolts gravitate toward me. As I touch one finger to the glass, they come together to form one large blue bolt inside. There’s no heat, just a small electrical charge. I force my own away and settle my whole hand on the globe. As my flesh makes contact, the bolts line up with my fingers.

The crowd gives a collective sigh of appreciation, and the room relaxes. My hair resists the shellacking of hairspray and tries to lift. A smattering of applause begins on the other side of the room. I raise my other hand and the hair on my arms rises. Another blue bolt of lightning lines up with my other hand. They slither and slide like mesmerized snakes beneath my fingers.

I am the snake charmer.

The applause begins in earnest, and as I settle both hands side by side on the glass, the room erupts.

I glance at Nikola, but I can’t read his expression. Then he twists the knob, dousing the lights. I sit.

Nikola steps off the stage, and the men quickly surround him, peppering him with questions and checks. I lean back in my chair and cross my legs, swinging my foot and smiling.

After Nikola makes serious dents in checkbook balances, he joins me at our empty table. The showman is gone. Retreated again behind the pale grey-blue eyes of the scientist.

My palms start to sweat like I’m about to face the principal. I wanted to make tonight a success for him, but I’m not sure veering drastically off course was the best route now. Before he says something we’ll both regret, I stand and gather my clutch.
 

“May I walk you to your room?” he asks quietly.

I nod, hypersensitive to the growing possibility of a screwup. All I have to do is make it to my room. Then whatever damage I’ve inflicted tonight won’t look so bad when he’s depositing those checks tomorrow.

With each step, the stilted tension grows more awkward. I may not be good with dates, but I am good with men. They like me because I’m “one of the guys” with boobs. Unless they’re shy. Then no amount of coaxing or flirting helps. They’re little turtles peering from the safety of their shells. I’m assuming Nikola’s never, ever, in his entire life spent this much time alone with a woman. The flock of crows have returned to my belly. In my attempt to woo the crowd, I may have alienated the one person I’ve come here to befriend.

I should have stayed put in my chair. I should have let him win the crowd by himself. I’m not very good at the teach-a-man-to-fish thing. I’d rather jump in, get it done, and move on to the next thing.

Men aren’t real big fans of that. Especially in this time. Glad I’m only here for a quick visit. Nonetheless, I’ve still screwed up in style. Surprise, surprise.

The lobby overflows with patrons headed out for the evening and the ones leaving his event. At the fringe of the crowd, he directs me to a side door that leads outside. I follow him through a lush garden foyer overflowing with night jasmine and tall torches illuminating the pathway. At a curve in the path, an inviting stone bench sits tucked beneath a pergola. He ducks beneath the overhanging vines and sits. I fidget and he pats the empty spot.

“Thank you for what you did tonight,” he says as I’m navigating the wobbly stones in my heels.

I half fall, half sit on the bench, brushing the vines with my elbow. Of all the things I thought he was going to say, that wasn’t close.

“I’m not good with people,” he continues. “I can complete a set of choreographed moves and statements on the stage, but it’s not who I am. If the choreography doesn’t have the desired results, I have no idea how to adjust my course. If it were a science experiment gone wrong, I’d know exactly what to do. When it’s people… Well, I’m at a loss. Like tonight. You saved this evening for me.”

I shake my head. No way this is going to be that easy. “I’m sure it’s because there weren’t very many scientists there. Actors and oilmen can’t appreciate what you accomplished. They didn’t understand what you were showing them.”

He snorts. “When I’ve attempted the same with scientists, the results are disastrous. They either can’t comprehend the experiment because it’s beyond what they’ve thought possible. Or they’re angered because they didn’t think of it. No, that would have been far worse. Their attitude is why I work best alone.”

I want to reach out, to comfort him, but he’s such an enigma I don’t know whether to cradle him or bow at his feet. This man surpasses genius. He gets the nuances of people, too. I’m so close, can tell he’s on the verge of letting me in, but this was just one night. One night doesn’t equal giving me access to his life work. Still lots of chances for me to blow it. “Are these orbs tonight something you’ve been working on for a while?”

“No.” He waves his hand. “These are simple parlor tricks. I haven’t even patented them yet. Merely gas in a tube, but people respond to it better than they do when I try to show them electricity.”

“Oh.” I relax a fraction and cross my ankles in what I hope is a lady-like way.

“I’m learning there’s another side of science, the social side that’s as crucial to the success as the actual science. Without the funding to take the experiments on a grander scale, it doesn’t matter how brilliant the science. Without funding, even the brightest mind will wither and die from lack of exposure to the masses.”

One of the reasons Ilif’s so consumed with his mission… According to him, money is science’s greatest evil—held away from geniuses by bean-counters too stupid to see the return unless it’s a hard number on a bottom line. Maybe he’s not so crazy after all… I tuck the thought away for now and focus on Nikola.

He straightens and turns to me. “You trusted the science tonight. Why?”

“Uh… ” I flounder. I can’t tell him the truth. But… he’s already seen me arc. And he’s going to ask me about that after he regroups anyway. Maybe if I tell him first I’ll manage to gain a better foothold on our precarious, weird relationship.
 

He holds up his index finger, his expression stern. “But first, about this morning. I’ve theorized a dozen different explanations for your flickering disappearance, but I’d like to hear yours.

Damn! Again, I’ve lost my edge because I hesitated. Why can’t I treat talking like a weapon? I take a deep breath, and leap, hoping I’m right. “I’m a time traveler and I use lightning to travel.”

“I knew it!” He slaps his leg. “We’ll get to the details soon enough, but I knew time travel was possible.”

“It’s not time travel, per se—” I stop. How much can I tell him? I never worried about the ramifications of Constantine having the information, but Nikola is smart enough to do something huge with it if he chooses. Very smart.

“I care not for the specifics right now, as I said. Right now we’re focusing on me, my other dilemma, and where you fit. I am obviously a success, and that is why you’re willing to trust the electricity. You’ve seen all this before.”

I nod. No need to tell him that even though we’re using all his inventions, and he basically discovered my century, he gets no credit for it. Maybe I can change that while I’m here. I tuck that away as a small side mission.

He’s charging ahead again, unwilling to let me agree or contradict him. “I see now where you could assist me. Will you help me with the socializing?”

I can barely stay in my seat. “I will.”

He bounds from the bench with renewed vigor and holds out his hand to me. “To your room then. We will begin again in the morning. There is much to accomplish.”

I stand and let him curl my hand into the crook of his elbow. We haven’t touched since meeting, and I think he’s forgotten about his germ issues for a moment. He’s quivering with excitement.

I’m giddy with my own chance at success, but a sinister darkness dampens my elation. I kick and shove it into a crevice in the closet of my mind, along with all my other quasi-revelations.

There will be time enough to second-guess this decision later.

C
HAPTER
12

T
HE
AIR
IS
crisp again this morning. A few leaves hang on to their perches in the spindly winter-arms of the trees. The streets are bustling with bodies and noise as I head toward the lab to meet Nikola. He’d arranged for a car, but I made it drop me a block from the lab. I want to get a good look at the surrounding businesses and people and see if I can figure out what’s not sitting right with me.
 

I dodge men and trucks, wincing at the screaming, rumbling machinery that sets crows aflight. Their black wings paint a dark and sinister collage against the sky. At the gate, I pause and look up and down the road. Nothing seems glaringly out of place.