Shadow Boxer: NA Fantasy/Time Travel (Tesla Time Travelers Book 2) (8 page)

I snort. As if I couldn’t hit him there. Just to antagonize him, I rub my hands together, releasing a cluster of mini bolts. He jerks, but stays put. The outline of his body flickers.

Since he believes I haven’t seen Penya since the night he kidnapped her from Constantine’s house, I play up my animosity. He’ll be expecting me to be my usual emotional roller coaster self, anyway.

“Where’s Penya?” I say with a scornful smile. “I thought you needed her to travel.”

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’ve adapted the system and don’t require her for every movement.”

“Then why are you here?” I flick a tiny lightning bolt toward him and puff my chest out. “Come to surrender?”

He stiffens and tries to regain his composure. If he really is here to ask for help, I’m going to make him work for it.

“Actually.” He clears his throat and tugs the cuffs of his sleeves sharply. “I came to make amends.”

The side of my jaw bulges as I clench my teeth. The calm of moments ago has fled to make room for my fury. I ball my fists tight against my thighs.

I should kill him. One bolt to the jugular, just like Viriato. There has to be a way to find Penya, some other way to discover what he’s up to.

My eyes narrow and he takes a careful step forward. Only one, but then he lifts his chin as if daring me to attack.

I snort and snuff my lightning. He’s not worth it. “Tell me what you came for and get out.”

He closes the gap between us, but stays an arm’s length away. He cocks his head and studies me. “You certainly get around.”

I cross my arms.

“I had no idea you’d begun working with Penya. And obviously, had I known you were in Spain… ”

“Talk faster.” Twin bolts race up my arms.

He clears his throat. “There’s a scientist—remember, the one with the machine we were to acquire?”

My eyes narrow further. What is he up to? “Tesla?”

He smiles. “That’s right, Nikola Tesla. His patents guided much of our work, but many of the ones that could have advanced it further were stolen by the government when he died.”

I laugh. “Seriously? You come here with a conspiracy theory for me to solve. Go away.”

He scowls. “This
is
serious. Tesla was a genius—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know exactly who he is. I graduated, you know. And I’m a mechanic—can’t be one without using his stuff.”

He sniffs and lifts his chin. “Your use of his
machinery
is deplorable. I’m using his theories, his advancements to science.”

“Good for you.”

After a few noisy inhales, he manages to control the tremble in his hands. “Your next alteration requires you to save those patents and papers from the FBI and other secret agencies. You must befriend Nikola in such a manner that he leaves them to you.”

“Uh, they’re the FBI, me having them won’t change a thing.”

“Then do it correctly.”

“No thanks.”

He bristles and his nostrils flare. “You–you can’t just decline an alteration.”

“Just did.” I uncross my arms, study my nails, and chew the index one.

His face is so red, I expect it to start melting off his skull. “I wanted your father for this.” His words are clipped and his shoulders are stiff. “Since you killed Viriato and ruined my original plan for the future, now you must help me in a new way.”

I move to my middle nail. “My alterations have nothing to do with your little take-over-the-world plan.”

“This one does. And you will help me.”

“Why would I?”

“I will not lower myself to threatening you. I have things you want.”

If he’s talking about Penya, I know I can find her. I pretend to be horrified at his subtle threat-that’s-not-a-threat. I know there’s a solution beyond trusting him. But it’s time to stop messing with him.

Constantine taught me a ton, but in this moment I’ve finally learned one of his tougher lessons. Know when you’ve pushed your opponent too far and they’re about to get reckless. Always know when it’s the moment to finish them.

Luckily, today’s opponent is too confident to see the underhanded blow coming.

I shift and drop my hands to my sides. “Of course, Ilif. You’re right. I’m just overwhelmed by everything that’s happened.” The next words are tinged with the taste of vomit. “Maybe if you could teach me.”

A look of supreme satisfaction spreads across his smug face. No one else on earth would believe me, but he’s pompous enough to think he’s the only teacher worth having. I hate him with a vehemence that’s explosive.

“I have no indication as to when you will arrive in Mr. Tesla’s timeline, but try to be accommodating.”

“I’m nice to most people.” My generosity just doesn’t extend to misogynistic douchebags.

“Yes, well, be doubly so. After you have acquired his trust and the patents, we will discuss the next steps.”

He vanishes. I shake my head. What a jackass.

Before I can create a plan of my own, Penya returns.

“I only have a second before he is back on my side. What did he say?”

I recant his description of the alteration and she gasps. “That is why he wants Aurelia’s offspring. She would have made genius advances to Tesla’s work—”

“What? How can you know that if Aurelia died?”

She waves my question away. “No time now. We just do.” She’s silent long enough to make me uncomfortable. I lean forward to see if her image has paused or something, and then she mutters, “I do not know why we never thought of that when we first built the lab. We tried to control everything electronically… He is brilliant.”

Something about her tone lifts the hair on my neck. “But this is a bad idea right? Ilif getting the patents? I can’t really be helping him? Right?”

Her fierce gaze bores in to me. “Evy. You must succeed in getting the patents from Nikola, and Ilif must never possess them.”

“
Sure,
just toss a five-sixteenths wrench into the blender.” I don’t like this. She’s way too eager for me to have them. I don’t understand why we didn’t come up with an alternate plan. Before I can ask, she disappears, leaving me alone again.
 

Alone.

I’m a mess. I step to the door to head to the hospital, but pause. Then I swing to the left, unsure if I should change. But then there’s Penya. And Ilif.

I drag my hands down my face and shove the messy strands of hair off my forehead. I just need a fucking minute to myself. A minute to put some of this shit to bed.

Again, I’m a pawn in everyone else’s game. Penya may be able to sacrifice her safety and sanity, but she’s been at this a few more centuries than I have. Every part of me is… wobbly. How she even thinks I can handle responsibility is a joke. She barely trusted me with the basics last time.

I sigh and bend over, hands on my knees.

I just need a minute.

Piece by piece, I need to wade through the mess and tie what loose ends I can.

I flare my nostrils and inhale then open my mouth and expel all my breath. I do it again, lifting my spine and forcing my muscles to unclench.

Might as well start with the big one.

Though it’s been only hours since I saw Constantine, I want to stand at the shore of the mighty river and reset, clear my head. Okay, and before I relegate him to my past, I maybe want to remember.

Or forget. I’m not sure which.

I open my palms and fill them with strands of lighting.

The sounds beyond me change until the Tiber roars a few feet from my toes. The Roman sun is waking, slowly sliding above the horizon. Nighttime releases her hold on the landscape, and the morning’s rays illuminate the dew, lighting the grass with diamonds. A blue heron brushes through the reeds to my left and dips her head into the river. She catches a fish and flies away, her simple duty complete.

I refuse to think of my own.

For this moment, I force every bit of responsibility away. I need this time to be unencumbered. Two minutes is all I’m asking for.

I close my eyes and inhale the wet richness.

Two fucking minutes.

When I open my eyes, I widen them to take in as much as possible. This land is beautiful with a rawness. Uncomplicated. Like Constantine.

The urge to see him constricts my waist like I’m rappelling off a hundred-foot cliff. I want to go to him, but this is as close as I should be. Besides, I don’t know how long it’s been since I was here, and he has Aurelia. I did my job and it’s time to forget about him. My chest aches. I do nothing to ease it, letting all the emotion come so I can be done with it. For good.

The grass rustles again behind me and I don’t turn, certain another bird has come for her breakfast. The rustle doesn’t shift toward the water’s edge, but continues toward my back. A thought of four-legged predators flashes, making my stomach clench, but then my body relaxes. I won’t get out of this chore with something as simple as death.

Life would not allow me to be killed by a wild desert cat roaming the banks of the Tiber. I choke on a manic laugh. There will be no easy escape for me.

The rustling stops and a presence fills the silence behind me. I’m on the deserted side, chosen on purpose to prevent another mishap. Yet, he’s found me anyhow.

A tremble clenches my fingers and they won’t function right. I’m afraid to turn around, so I fix my eyes on the opposite bank. My purge of emotion is still swirling around me like a mist, making it very clear who is standing behind me.

I’m not sure I can face Constantine right now.

C
HAPTER
8

L
OVER
,
MENTOR
,
FRIEND
. There’s never been a comfortable fit for my feelings where Constantine is concerned. He’s intelligent, well-spoken, a fierce warrior, and he looks hot in a tunic. I’m insanely attracted to him on every level, and he lives in first-century Rome. I’m supposed to live in present-day Utah. There’s long-distance relationship, and then there’s us.

But now his daughter is alive.

Thanks to me.

I can hear him back there, rustling the grass with each movement so I’ll know he’s back there. Pretty sure I’m about to say or do something stupid. I need to remember that to him I’m a stranger.

Even so, my flight instinct of jumping into the rushing waters seems an excessive escape.

He pulls up even with me at the edge of the water, close enough for conversation, but far enough away to defend and protect, as always. “Did you lose someone in the flood?”

His voice a mixture of sinful chocolate and cyanide. I draw in his strength. He may not know who he is to me, but that doesn’t mean I have to forget just yet. Bracing myself, I turn.

He is everything I remember, but buoyed now with the life and love of his daughter. Gone is the mask of sorrow that permanently concealed his feelings. Now his blue eyes are bright, even with the concern for my welfare. Blond hair tight around his face, he’s still Constantine—finely tuned, powerful, deadly. And constantly assessing. In a handful of seconds he takes in my T-shirt molded to my curves, my barbarian pants, my fisted hands. His own clutch a journal at his waist and tighten as his demeanor changes ever so slightly. Now he’s cautious. Unsure how to categorize me.

I offer him an olive branch in a lame attempt to introduce myself. “I almost lost several someones… but we all managed to survive. You?”

“My daughter.”

My heart squeezes. “I’m sorry.”

“No, she didn’t die.” He shifts the journal to one hand and stares at it. “This… this book tells me she did once.” He tugs his ear, clearly uncomfortable with the concept. “But someone—”

His head jerks up and he assesses me again. “Not possible.”

“Why?” I whisper, begging him to believe it.

To keep my hope alive that
we
are possible.

To believe I am possible.

“I have heard accounts of sorcery before… and Rom said much of your bravery.”

Really?
The thought is so preposterous I can’t even voice it. Rom hated me. That he said something positive to Constantine of all people… Wow.

“I trust Rom with my most precious. He’s never given me a reason not to.” He’s talking more to himself than to me, still trying to work through this.

“And in this?” I hold my breath. Not daring to hope that his being here means anything for us. But maybe if he believes in me… well, it’s something.

“I suppose I must.”

Air whooshes from my lungs. “I’m Evy, by the way.”

He tips his head. “A fine warrior name.”

We stand awkwardly. I clear my throat and step closer, managing not to fling myself at him.

He fidgets and I freeze.

I narrow my eyes. “Did you just
fidget
?”

He straightens and takes a large, sure step toward me, reducing the distance between us to a few feet. “I do not fidget. I’m merely unfamiliar how to behave with a sorceress from the future.”

“Well you don’t start by calling her a sorceress.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “You tease me.”

I shrug. “It’s kind of my thing.”

He nods slowly like he’s cataloguing that for a later test. You’d think I just told him my swordsmanship strategy the way he’s taking everything so serious.

I opt for simple. “How is Aurelia?”

“She will have a little readjusting. Though the flood scared her, she’s still willful as ever.”

I smile at his description.

“I needed to see this place.” The tension in his shoulders releases. “To piece together the story. Your heroics. I haven’t slept since Penya left me. I read the journal, and though it seems odd to read things that have not happened… Things that will never happen now… Because of you. Reading the words, the events… my heartbreak. All together, they layered a dual memory of being without her, and now to have her back—” Emotion clogs his words. “I cannot thank you.”

“You’re welcome anyway,” I whisper.

Before, he’d have wrapped his arms around me and I’d have melted into his strength. His fingertips would have played at my spine and a thousand fireworks would have erupted at his firm touch. Then his hands would roam across my hips and follow the curve of my ass. He’d fill his hands with me and lift my legs to wrap around his waist. I’d bury my face in the warm heat of his neck.