Shadow Boxer: NA Fantasy/Time Travel (Tesla Time Travelers Book 2) (12 page)

I crunch through the gravel, ignoring the heartbeat of the bird’s wings. They settle in the branches again and watch my trek across the yard.

I speed up and push through the door to the lab, an actual one with hinges. Warm air bursts past me in the vacuum. I close the winter air out and blow into my cupped fingers.

The lab is chaos. I press myself against the wall to remain unnoticed and to afford me a moment to watch this crazy ballet of minds and bodies. Rough workmen move lazily through the space. Some carry boards, others stand on platforms with buckets at their feet, and others splatter paint. Each section of the building is in a different state of completion and I can only imagine the amount of stress the entire operation is putting on Nikola.

He stands in the center of the room. High above him, the wooden rafters echo his words across the space. “It must be taller,” he says loudly over the din.

The workman waves his arms and explains something. Nikola shakes his head then marches over to finish the conversation.

On the fringe of all this, a thin, geeky-looking guy is working with a small pile of wires. One of the workmen drops a board, making him jump. I slip around the outer wall and stand at the edge of his table. He glances up at me, studies my face.

“I’m Evy.”

“Toby,” he says by way of introduction, either oblivious or uncaring that I’m a girl in a man’s world. “Hand me those three screws.”
 

He works in silence for a while, until I can’t stand it. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m working on one of his motors.” His hands move across the cylinders and wires with a quiet efficiency.

Above us, Nikola shouts again. Toby sighs and lays his hands on the top of the table.

“He works at a pace few can match.” Toby raises his arm. “Over there, two new experiments. On this side of the building, more, testing his nonsynchronizing motor. He points to Nikola. “There, he’s working on the electronic transmission of power.” He drops his arm and looks at me. “Do you understand electricity?”

I measure my words carefully. I can see where the whole concept of electricity in general might freak someone out. “I do, but I thought he worked alone.”

“He does. The only reason he’s permitted me access is because one of my own experiments was similar. He’s already warned me we won’t get along and I’ll not stay for long.” Toby lifts a shoulder. “He’s a genius. I’ll stay out of the firing line as long as I can.”

The issue isn’t because he gets angry, but I don’t want to reveal the little I’ve learned about Nikola to Toby. Nikola wouldn’t appreciate anyone having an arsenal of information about him. I crane my head and spot Nikola. He’s now on the scaffolding next to the workman. Watching me.

I smile and he tries one on again. He catches himself and says a parting comment before climbing down. I step away from Toby and toward the bottom of Nikola’s perch. I want him to tell me what he’s doing and I don’t want him to think I’m interested in anyone but him.

Nikola climbs down the tower and guides me around the room. Papi would be insanely curious about the mechanisms he’s pointing out, but I’m scrambling to remember what he’s calling them. It’s hard not to wonder again what these are in my own time. They look familiar, and a few of them could be parts I just installed in my last bike.

“This is my life, Evy.” Nikola points to a massive cube of metal and wires. The magnets inside tug at the rivets of my jeans. “My current funding comes from wealthy men like my friend, John Astor, but their minds are limited. It’s why I need you to help me find other financiers for my work. It’s up to you to handle my social engagements. Once people hear my speeches and lectures, they’ll be unable to ignore the truth of my science, and my inventions will finally get the recognition they deserve. I can change the world with these.” His arm sweeps the room.

My throat constricts. Yes, he could. I’m stumbling over Astor. I can’t remember who that is. Some banker or something. In any case, a super important person. And Nikola wants me to entertain him, find a few more like him, and ask them for money.

Sure, no prob.

We complete the revolution of the building, and now we’re standing between two huge metal cylinders with rings of magnets on the ends. He turns to me. “I don’t ask people for help, Evy. Least of all a woman. I don’t handle them well, but you’re different. You’re smart and have capabilities unlike anything I’ve seen. You don’t dress in frilly silliness, but practical clothing which allows you to complete your tasks. I’ve asked you to work for me because of what I believe you can accomplish, girl or no.” Nikola draws a measured breath and folds his hands, left thumb precisely placed across his knuckles. “As compensation, I have ordered the hotel to give you whatever you require and to place it on my tab. Your room and all meals are already paid, and I would expect you to order clothing and cars as you need them.”

“Thank you.” Shock vaporizes all my other words.
 

“At the close of your service with me, I have also arranged to pay you ten thousand dollars.”

I blink. I’m pretty sure that’s a load of money in turn of the century New York, and I’ll have to Google it when I get home to figure out exactly how much he just offered me. Either way, it will replace the revenue I’m missing from the shop. Not to mention everything else he’s tossed in. I scramble to recover.

“I’m glad I can help your cause. Thank you for taking a chance on me, even though I’m a girl.” Every cell in my body rages against the words. It’s the precise reason I’ll be good at his socializing, since men are terrible at the nuances of schmoozing.

He nods and leads me around again. I think he’s trying to ignore the bumbling idiots holding his life’s work in their hands and tool belts. “I have much to do here, and you are a distraction for both myself and the workers. Will you meet me for dinner again this evening and inform me of your fund-raising plan?”

I lift my hand to his arm, but stop at the last second when I see him flinch. I cross them instead. “Of course. That will give me time to plan and research. Seven.”

He leaves me without another word and glides toward the workers, but I read the massive effort he’s using to keep from stomping and yelling.

I survey the cavernous warehouse again and it reminds me of Papi. This is the ultimate flow of men and machines, and one he’d appreciate. I barrel out of the building, desperate for the icy air to calm me.

He should be here, not me. He and Nikola would be able to carry on two-way educated conversations, instead of the lame input I’m bringing.

Or would they?

I’m yanked to a stop.

Old Model Ts and carriages zoom by me on the busy road in front of the warehouse. Behind me, the hammering and sawing of construction echoes off a thousand bricks.

Maybe my lack of scientific knowledge is doing me a favor. Nikola is surrounded by geniuses—maybe not his caliber, but geniuses just the same. He holds them in a lower regard than the workmen. As if they should know more, work faster, and understand it with more clarity.
 

Me, he just takes at face value. I hold the ability to bend time, and I’m not afraid of his experiments.

Even his best scientists and friends are scared.

But I’ve seen it all before.

My car pulls to the curb and I climb in. “To the hotel, please.”

This scenario with Nikola is unchartered Amazonian jungle. I’ve worked my whole life to earn trust. Whether a customer, or boss, or Ilif, I’ve had to earn every ounce of trust bestowed. Constantine trusted me only because I knew things he wanted to know, and I never misled him.

But Nikola is completely different. Does his trust in me have to do with his scientific nature? Constantine is a warrior, his currency is loyalty and heart. Papi is a blue-collar bank. Hard work, punctuality, and perseverance make up his currency. To Nikola, only truth and fact exist. Everything else is speculation and worthless guessing.

What a fantastic concept. Three different men, three different currencies. I’m not sure why I’ve never noticed that before.

I’m not sure I want to know
my
currency, but Nikola seems pleased to trade U.S. cash for his, and for now, that will do.

I reach the hotel, and the concierge nearly breaks his neck getting around the counter. “Ms. Rivera, we have the boutique on standby. Would you like me to send them to your room with a collection for you?”

I have to bite my cheek to keep from grinning. Nikola doesn’t kid around, and he’s spent a ton of money in this hotel. I suppose when you’re hosting major events at the place, a dress or dinner here and there are trivial. Women are ornaments to these guys anyway.

He’s wringing his hands, and I wonder what they told him about me. I nod, and he waits for the rest of my instructions as if I’m about to command an army. It’s laughable.

“Send the hairdresser as well.” I glance at the big clock hanging above the curving stairs at the end of the lobby. It’s ten after ten. “Tell them all to come up at six.”

He bows and I head for the elevator. The opulence of my room startles me again, but I power through to the large writing desk. After a tremendous amount of wiggling and situating, I toe off my boots and tuck one bare foot beneath my thigh. I tug the end of my braid and feather it across my lips while I brainstorm marketing ideas, careful not to add any from the future. While I’ve never actually thrown a party, I’ve been to enough to know a good one from a flop, and I think if I can pull bits from all the successful ones, I can wow even Nikola.

I’m halfway through the first sheet of paper when a shiver of electricity ruffles the quiet air of my room, raising the little hairs on the nape of my neck.

I finish writing my thought before it vanishes and press hard to keep the pen from shaking. “Hi, Ilif.”

With measured movements, I set the pen next to the page and swivel around in the chair. As expected, Ilif is looking down his nose, disdain and contempt nearly dripping from him.

I thought he’d at least appreciate the room, but my presence in it seems to be ruining even that for him.

What a dick.

With a grip that should break a finger, I clutch my hands to keep them from straying to his neck.

“There is no time for dress-up and parties. I tasked you with getting his papers. What is taking so long?”

I laugh, unable to help it. “When’s the last time you hung out with actual humans? Ones who wanted to be there?”

His face is blank.

“That’s what I thought. There’s a bit of a finesse to this. Nikola has to trust me, don’t you think? You said it yourself, Nikola trusts no one.” I wave my hand in dismissal. “Go away.”

Flicking my hip to the side, the chair spins to face the table again. I pick up my pen and do my best to ignore him. It’s so much easier to do when he’s the one who wants something—especially when he wants it this bad.

He’s so silent, for a moment I think he’s gone.

“I cannot stress the importance of this enough.” His voice is directly behind me and I force myself not to jerk away. “If Penya means anything to you, you’ll do what I ask.”

The threat is clear. Anger surges up my spine and the pen digs into my skin. My teeth ache and a sharp pain flares in my jaw before racing down the side of my neck. Lightning burns at the tips of my fingers, but I manage to keep it quiet.

Another voice. “Am I interrupting?”

No!

I rise from my chair and slowly turn. “Nikola… ”

He stands in the doorway, half in, half out, ready to bolt.

“Come in. This is Ilif. He works with my father.” I stab him in the side with my finger, shoving him toward the door. “He was just leaving.”

Like a teenage girl meeting her crush, Ilif trips and bumbles his way to the door. “So–such an honor, sir.” As he passes Nikola, he reaches for him, forcing Nikola to bend away from his touch.

My right eyebrow shoots up. What is he, ten?

Nikola steps into the room, hands clasped tightly behind his back, rotating to stay facing Ilif. His head inclines a few inches in acknowledgement. I smile.

Then Ilif is gone, and I scramble for serious damage control.

C
HAPTER
13

T
HE
DOOR
CLICKS
shut and I stare at Nikola’s back. Finally, he turns and addresses me from across the room. “I do not appreciate you entertaining men in your room. I have allowed you a certain amount of trust. Was it misplaced?”

I like Nikola, and for that reason, and that reason alone, I let him to waver in his judgment of me, as well as dress me down. His
do not appreciate
and
allow
ed
you
rage against every inch of ground I’ve gained—not just here, but in my whole life. For the mission’s sake I swallow my pride, even though it’s not possible for my back to be tighter, or to be more appalled at the clipped command hidden beneath his question.

But there’s also an undercurrent of worry in his voice, and it’s to that emotion I respond.

“Ilif is”—I force my voice to stay soft, and not to convey a single ounce of my special hatred where Ilif is concerned—“for lack of a better word… my mentor. He taught me how to time travel. And I use that term incredibly loosely.”

An array of emotions flicker across his face. Curiosity wins and he nods sharply once and crosses the room. “Tell me of it.”

I smile, a genuine one this time. I like Nikola’s currency; it’s pure and honest. For him, everything just is what it is. “Tell me first why you came to see me. I thought you had stuff to do.”

“Then you’ll tell me?”

“I will.”

“The workers had to add a few beams, and they cleared everyone from the building.” His voice drops like a chastised child. “Even me. For safety, they said. I can’t bear to watch them crab it. I also wanted to ask you if you could tell the women not to wear their jewelry. It makes it hard to concentrate.”

I lift my hand to lay it on his arm, but redirect when I see him flinch and cradle it against my stomach. Sometimes I just want to hug this guy. His thoughts are all over the place and the inside of his mind must be a constant thrumming of energy. “I will personally speak to each of them about it.”