by Jen Greyson
I feel him shrug. “Worth trying.”
Found her!
I found a trace. They’re in London.
I am instantly aware we didn’t follow Papi as we land on a set could be straight out of a Jane Austen novel. Tall narrow houses—walk-ups they’re called—flank us on either side and other than a few well-dressed individuals walking their tiny dogs toward the entrance of a lush park at the far end of the lane, it’s a quiet street. The back of a big industrial warehouse stands guard behind us, but the neighborhood looks like it grew up around the industry, maybe for the workers in the area at one time, but now it looks deserted. One block over, on the other side of the warehouse, cars and people move briskly, creating plenty of noise to make up for the subdued atmosphere of this side. We need to find out when and where we are, but walking blindly into a situation neither of us knows about is foolish.
Quaint street lamps click off as the sun warms the foggy morning. While I’ve never been to London, this is how I always imagined it, with couples strolling along cobbled streets and every inch dripping with aristocracy. We may not have landed in Ada’s time, but I have to be somewhat close, otherwise we wouldn’t have come this far into the past.
Until we figure out, we can’t keep standing in the middle of the street, quiet or not. I push Constantine backward and into the alcove of the building’s entrance so we’re hidden from prying eyes peeking out the windows, but not for long. His wide eyes try to take it all in in an attempt to process where we are and what he’s seeing. I move slowly, surprised at the level of his shock. He’s taken my time in stride far easier than this, but we’ve always stayed confined to Papi’s house. Not I fault him, London is a lot to take in and has me in awe, too.
I grip his shoulders and force him to look at me. When his eyes focus I give him a second to settle. “We’re fine. Papi and Ilif ended up somewhere else, but that’s no big deal. this is London, so we can learn more about Ada and dial in the timeline.”
“No big deal?” He swallows and I wait for him to get his breathing under control.
Once his eyes constrict and he’s focused back on me, I take a small step away so I can make a plan. With all the manipulation Penya and Ilif have done to my previous alterations, I have to wonder if this is what a pure one starts like, though if I’m tagging along on Tiana’s, maybe not. I have no idea how many rules I know are ones created by those two, rules don’t apply at all anymore.
At least I didn’t start a new alteration… I hope. That would suck if I had to not only figure out an alteration on my own, but handicapped with a giant freaked-out warrior.
All I can do is proceed with what I know, which isn’t much. If this were my alteration, I’d have to have some clue what to fix, so I must have latched on to Tiana’s. To do more recon, we both need new clothes.
I close the gap between us and reach around him, wiggling the doorknob. The lock comes free and I push the door open, him along with it. We quickly scan the building and he’s coming around, I need to keep him busy for a second. The building really is empty. Completely vacated and looks like its been way for a while. It must have been an old warehouse or something. Tall overhead beams support the spanning roof and it’s a giant open space with broken tables and piles of lumber and metal scraps throughout. A perfect place for us to get our feet and plan.
Constantine runs a trembling hand through his hair and squeezes the back of his neck. “Do you perhaps know when we are?”
I touch his arm gently. “Not yet, but we'll be okay. London didn’t see much turmoil, except during war, and we’ve missed all of those by a couple decades.”
“You can’t know that. What if one begins tomorrow?”
“Then we’ll have to handle it, but I doubt it. There are safe times in history, so IDTk this alteration of Tiana’s includes any danger.”
He looks skeptical, a man used to violent attacks around every corner and from everyone he encounters. In peaceful times he’s always been a warrior.
“Do you feel her?”
I shut my eyes and embody stillness. Nothing out of the ordinary alerts me, but it's not like I'd know what she’d feel like. In the warehouse I didn’t know she was coming until she popped in behind me. I sigh. "Nothing."
“Should we wander the streets?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I knew it was a long-shot we’d all end up here together. First, I need to find you something to wear.”
He glances down as his tunic, sandals, and sword. There is no mistaking body in getup for anything other than who he is. I hope I can find him clothes fit. I move to the other end of the building where the front door might be. The windows are covered with newspapers but the glue has come away in several places, letting the paper fall and revealing filthy glass with shadowed movement beyond. We can’t go walking around together, so I’ll have to slip out and find clothes for him. I’m hell on guessing sizes, but I don’t have a lot of choices. He can’t walk into a store looking like he does.
Constantine follows a short distance away, curiously picking at the piles and mumbling about waste and weapons. I’m sure he sees all kinds of bits they could have used for the armory and I wonder what he makes of all this. I wish we had time to debrief and let him ask questions and adjust. I clean a small stripe on the window, enough for me to look out and as it comes into focus, the wonder of the city emerges. Women and men hustle by, most are dressed from neck to wrist to ankle, looking sharp and impeccable. I loved about Nikola’s NYC too. Kind of a bummer we all dress like slobs these days.
Depending on how old these newspapers are, I’m assuming we’re only less than a year past the date on them, and that’s an excessive window. I glance behind me at the heaps of junk. This place is definitely rundown and deserted, but there isn’t a thick layer of dust, like it hasn’t been closed for long. I check the pages and they're all from the same day’s edition, January 12, 1830.
The nagging question is whether those papers are from this year, or a decade ago.
And more importantly, where is Tiana on the timeline for this alteration and how are we going to intercept her?
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Constantine as I wiggle the handle of the front door.
He covers my fingers with his. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“It’s fine. I’m going shopping.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not going off without me. We either do this together or we don’t do it.”
He has a point. I still have to be on my guard. There’s a vast possibility while Penya is with Tiana, she taught her goons how to time travel and sent them after me. They could be anywhere, and I have to treat everyone I meet like they could be working for Penya. Involving Constantine is risky… but he’s always been involved. And I want him involved, need him involved. Just not yet.
“We can’t stroll down a busy London sidewalk with you looking like this.” It will be bad enough with me not in full dress, but at least I’m used to looking like a barbarian and the distrustful stares and actions come along. “Trust me. I’ll be back before you know it. Nothing will happen to me.”
“What if you see Penya? What if she has her military with her?”
“It’s not an entire military, it’s a couple guys.”
“Who’ve already tried to kill you.”
I turn and put my hands on his shoulders. “I’ll be fine. You have to trust me. I trust you in your time, don’t I?”
“That’s different.”
I lift my hands and cradle his face. “Not really. I’ve been a lot of strange places without you. I do need you, and I'm glad you protect me, but I can make it to the store and back without getting captured or killed.”
He glances out the smudgy windows. “I don’t like it.”
I kiss him softly. “I know. But we have to work together this time. No more butting heads about stuff. We don’t have time. I promise I’m heeding your warning. I’ll be careful.”
“Hurry.”
The door opens with another good tug and I walk briskly down the sidewalk, looking around at the storefronts. They’re adorable and vintage. This is definitely the hub of this small town, warehouse notwithstanding. A grocery market anchors the far end of the street and between here and there are a ton of stores, from tailors to bicycle repair shops… Everything I’d imagined in 1800s London. I enter the first men's clothing store I come to and breathe in the smell of soap and leather and fine linen. Shame these don’t exist anymore. A curve of mirrors filled the back wall, reflecting a tailor and customer. I duck down so they won’t see me. I couldn’t tell Constantine the whole truth, but in my usual T-shirt and jeans, I’m too immodest for now and don’t have the right cash on me.
“He-llo…” The tailor’s voice dies in confusion as he turns toward the door. I hurry through the sparse racks of clothes, this was no Nordstrom’s was for sure. Thankfully, I didn’t need anything fancy, a shirt and pants befitting a warrior. I have a feeling he’s going to lose his mind when it comes to getting dressed.
In the middle of the store, I find a pair of tweed pants and a button-up shirt about his size and tuck them beneath my arm, then sneak to the front. The men are caught up in a discussion about horses and I race out the door, letting it bang shut behind me. I’ll figure out a way to make amends—these are dire situations and I can’t be delayed answering questions about my payment methods.
Though I’ve only been gone a total of fifteen minutes, Constantine is a sweaty, stressed out mess by the time I get back. He grabs me the moment I open the door and pats me down. “Are you hurt? Did anyone accost you?”
I shake him off and do my best to look at the situation from his perspective, but he seriously needs to chill out. “I’m fine. I promise. Here.” I hand him the bundle. “I found you some clothes but I didn’t dare try to pick out shoes for you.” I glance down at his sandals. “I still have to change my own outfit but I didn’t want to leave you much longer.” And it’s a good thing I didn’t. Two more minutes and he’d have been stomping up and down the street looking for me attracting all sorts of attention. And while we do need to find Penya and Tiana I don’t want them to know we’re here.
He unrolls the clothes and looks at the shirt with disgust. “What am I to do with this?”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Well, you put it on, for starters.”
He holds it out in front of him between the tips of his finger and thumb like I’ve handed him a half-tanned pelt of a wolverine instead of a hand-tailored shirt probably costs a weeks’ wages around here. “Here. Let me help you.” I unbuckle his belt and set it on the floor. We’ll have to stash all our clothes somewhere so we can come back for them. There’s no way he’ll leave this stuff in London if he can help it and I don’t want him to have to. I know how attached he is to not only his weapon, but this training outfit as well. He stands woodenly while I push his tunic up over his head. “It’s not bad. Really. It’s a shirt.”
He grunts.
I try not to get distracted as my palms graze the skin of his bare shoulder. But while clothed Constantine is impossible to ignore, the naked one has me wishing we had a few moments for me to explore it. I hurriedly push his arms through the pressed sleeves and tug the stiff collar up against his neck.
He makes a face. “You cannot be serious. Men do not go about dressed like this, do they?”
“All men dress as warriors in your day?”
He snorts. “Only the important ones.”
I roll my eyes. “Well if you’re going to travel with me then you need to get over your issues. Here, important men dress like this.” That’s a lie but there’s no point in telling him if we really had somewhere fancy to go he’d have had to wear a tie and jacket, and most certainly shoes. This is good enough for right now. I pull the fabric across his chest and button the top button, barely getting it through. As long as he doesn’t try to take anyone out, I’m pretty sure they’ll stay closed. I nimbly finish buttoning the shirt and brush my hands along the crest of his shoulders. “You look incredibly handsome.”
He ignores me.
“Right. Now you have to put pants on.”
“What?”
I laugh, unable to help myself. “Constantine! You have killed people. I’m asking you to wear pants. Stop acting so affronted. Seriously.”
He huffs and crosses his arms, straining the seams of the fabric.
I slap his elbow. “Don’t do that. You’ll pop the back of the shirt open.”
“Good.” His surliness is hysterical.
“If you rip it, I’ll have to leave and go get you another one.” I’m arguing with a four year old the way he’s behaving. I hand him the pants. “Put these on.”
He turns away from me and drops his bottoms, giving me a surly shot of his tight ass. If I thought it would help, I’d slap it, but I don’t need him any more unpredictable than he is right now, and for all I know, he’s barely keeping his misplaced rage controlled and that’s the thing will set him off. The clothes aren't why he's upset, it’s the uncertainty of everything, where we are, what we’re here to do, how we’re searching for Tiana in a huge city and might not be here during the right time. I get it, but his reaction is ridiculous.
He puts the pants on over his nakedness, then turns back to me, pointing at the fly. “And these contraptions?”
I laugh again as I do up his pants and tuck his shirt in, amazed at how much the simplest things are setting him off-kilter today. The shirt wasn’t meant to be fitted, but it hugs his thick pecs and tapers his narrow waist. The pants are made for a small Englishman, not a hulking Roman warrior, so they accentuate the stunning curve of his ass and thighs. He’s splendid.
I might as well have let him walk the streets in his training gear because now he’s going to be turning every head within a ten-mile radius. Jealousy rears up inside me and I quickly squash it, unwilling to give it purchase. I’ll have to manage it on the go, but if one woman flirts him up, I’ll probably lose it.
I pick up his clothes and fold them, then tuck them beneath a wide pile of wood. “We won’t leave them, I promise.” I hold out my hand. “I’ll put your sword here with them.”
“Not a chance.”
“You can’t wear—” I shut my mouth and press my lips together. I’ve managed to get him in clothes, the sword isn’t a battle I’ll win. I stand and brush my hands.
He retrieves his sword and buckles it on, looking only slightly odd with the weapon dangling at his side. Everything about him is lethal, the sword icing.
My fingers tingle and I shift my weight, unable to shake my edginess, like we’re being watched. I don’t give into the urge to look over my shoulder but the vastness of the warehouse is freaking me out. I want to get out among people and see if we can find a kid who’s an abnormally gifted scholar.
“Ready?” Constantine asks, shrugging his shoulders in discomfort. “I’d feel better if I knew the objective.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Is this always the way of your alterations?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I’ve always had Ilif or Penya involved, manipulating everything, so I’ve never had to do any of this part on my own before. And it’s a thousand times more confusing this time because we’re in Tiana’s alteration.”
He grunts. “This is dangerous. You might as well walk to the middle of the street and announce your presence. At least then you’d see your enemy coming.”
“There isn’t always an enemy. Tiana’s finding a girl—a smarty-pants genius—how dangerous can be? Some alterations have to be easy and safe.” I glance over my shoulder at him. “Don’t they?”
“Safe and easy does not require lightning riders, only change of will.”
I turn forward, unwilling to acknowledge the truth in his statement. History can be changed with a mere attitude adjustment doesn’t need me. We’re the big guns, the last resort. If a lightning rider shows up it means some serious shit went down and we have to stand in the way. My should
ers slump. I wanted this to be easy and safe for Tiana… but now I see that’s not likely.
Constantine’s arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me backward until our bodies are snug. “But I am here this time.”
I nod and try to come to grips with the possible levels of danger we’re about to face. Penya will not go quietly, and I already know she’s not afraid to use whatever force necessary.
“Though we are in a time closer to yours, one I know nothing about, I need to know you’ll obey me. I cannot keep you safe otherwise.”
I close my eyes and relax into the solidity of him. My fingers drop to his wrist and encircle his forearm. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“And the rest?”
“I’ll do what you say.” It’s not difficult to submit to him, to what he needs to hear from me. I’ve had enough of being on my own and being in danger. I don’t like it. Not at these stakes… and now I’ve endangered Tiana, I’m more willing to follow his lead in this. I’ve tried battling Penya on my own and managed to blow up my own house in the process.
His arm tightens. “Unless nothing, understand? There is no condition to request. I do not care what situation we encounter, I am here to keep you safe.”
“What if—”
“No. No ifs. You know I will let no harm come to you, correct?”
I nod, wanting to ask him what he’d do if the choice was saving me or Tiana, but I know the answer, so I press my lips together and swallow. I asked him to come protect me, to come help me, to be my other half on this wild rider trip and I have to let him do it. Even when it threatens to destroy me.
Aligned on who’s giving the orders and who’s taking them, he unwraps me and links his fingers through mine. “You watch for Tiana, I’ll watch everyone else.”
I brush a kiss across his lips and squeeze his hand. I turn and the air shifts, making me freeze.
Ilif pops in, relief on his face, everything else a complete mess. “Good. I’d hoped to catch you.”
