by Jen Greyson
All time that I won’t get now. “Will he be different?”
“Yes. Losing Aurelia shaped him. Now different things will shape him.”
“I wish I could… ” I stop. The time for wishing is over. I already had my time with him. Now my time is with this family, here.
“He asked about the journal. I was surprised you left it for him.”
I wince. How long is she going to torture me with this? I need to undo today, not bask in it. “No point in keeping it.”
“Perhaps.”
I splay my fingers to release the cramping tension. “Please don’t play with me. I need to figure out how to uncreate today now that you’re here. Explain.”
“Aurelia’s alteration is different. Because her offspring are involved, you will forever be tied to her timeline—and theirs. As you are alerted for issues in her future, there may be interactions with Constantine.”
Tears well in my eyes, but I swallow and blink until they’re gone. “Let’s call that one solved for now. Thank you for telling me. Now, help me. Help me figure out how to undo today. To start again when you were with me at the river—before the flood. I have to change the catastrophe surrounding Papi, like we did with Aurelia. Tell me how to fix it.”
Her image flickers, and I lunge forward. She can’t disappear before I get my answer.
“Tell me what happened with your father.”
I close my eyes and fill my lungs with air. I begin at the last time Penya was with me. I recant every detail from arcing into the chariot with Aurelia, saving the toddler, the final push to save Rom, and the events that lead to Papi’s injury, finishing with arcing Aurelia home to Constantine and Papi to the ER.
Penya listens without interruption and gnaws on her lip. “Ilif failed him.” She holds up a hand to keep me quiet. “The lightning should have forced him to arc home. Even with a direct strike, it should not have injured him to such an extent. Are you sure it was as bad as you say?”
I draw my brows together in a frown. Pain streaks behind my eyes. “He’s in ICU.”
She presses her lips together. “A precaution, I am sure.”
“You think?” I guess I just assumed since they never took us out of the ER, but Mami said he’d be fine… I’m so confused. I need to go see him.
“I have to go.”
“Why are you always leaving when I need answers? Tell me how to go back and save him. That’s all I need.”
“It is not that simple, niña. When you altered Aurelia’s history, it was words already written on a page. Easy to pinpoint, easy to alter. What you did with your father is different.”
A chill spreads through my torso. “How?”
She glances sideways, as if wary of someone coming on her side. Satisfied, she turns back, but there’s an urgency to her movements. “It would be easier to grab music from the air and change the song.”
The words physically strike me and I falter. “No. I–I don’t… That’s not right. I’m a rider. I can arc back to the minutes before he got hit, or even an hour before and change it all.”
She draws her hands to her chest, and her eyes droop with their permanent sadness. “I do not know the why of it. I only know that when a rider affects history, the alteration becomes permanent. The events leading to the change cannot be changed, they become frozen on the timeline.”
My knees buckle and I crash to the carpet, hands limp in my lap. I was so sure I could fix this. But I’m an eternal screwup… this is just one more place where I’ve failed. Once again I couldn’t just do my job—get Aurelia, come home—I had to explode it into a giant fiasco that nearly killed Rom, and may have killed Papi. I still don’t understand why I can’t go back and undo it. She’s not even giving me a chance to try. Always pushing forward to the next alteration. Never letting me catch my breath from the last. Is this the life I’m condemned to now—this time-traveling life of continuous movement?
Even now, she’s barely compassionate to my plight, firm in her conviction that he’s not really severely injured. The moment I get my feet under me, she hits me with a jab.
“But that is not why I came. Ilif wants to see you.”
Shadowy images of our fight in the forest come, unbidden. His threats, his fearful escape before I could retaliate. My pinballing emotions slam together like a thousand metal shards beneath a magnet. Where chaos reigned, there is a singular focus now. “Good. I hope he’s ready to stand and fight this time.”
“You cannot. There is information I have not found yet—”
My spine stiffens. She better not even think of getting between us. “Information about what? I don’t have any information for him. You said no more secrets—”
“I know. I am sorry. I will tell you more as I can. He cannot know I can come see you, just listen to what he has to say. I must end this transmission. I really do believe he is close to finding a new energy source—something life changing.”
I glare at her. No way is she asking me to set aside my hatred for him so she can find some answer to an unknown question. “He kidnapped you. He wanted Aurelia, but I managed to fight him off… ” Anger tangles my tongue and I force a deep breath into my lungs. It seeps out between my clenched teeth. “Why is he coming?”
“He needs you.”
“Oh, that’s rich.”
“No matter what your emotional regression where he is concerned, you must set it aside for the duration. You have to play along, Evy. I need to know what he is plotting and you can buy me time.”
My laugh is strained. “He knows I was with you in Spain. There’s no way he’ll ever believe that I’d work with him.”
“Oh, he already does. He told me all about it last night. He thinks you weak, that you have no one.”
I cringe and my eyes sting at what I’ve done to my family today. “Not far off.”
“You have me.”
It’s a lame olive branch at best. “No, I have an image of you.”
Penya holds up her hands. “The best I can do.”
“Easy to fix if you’d tell me where you are.”
“You have your father.”
“Who’s currently clinging to life, and who can’t arc without ending up in NYC.”
“Focus.”
No emotion, that’s what she’s trying to sell me. Riders don’t get the luxury. “Yeah, right. You really think Ilif will come ask me for help?”
“No, he will phrase it differently… And, Evy?”
I raise my eyebrows.
“This is more important than killing Viriato.” Her head snaps sideways. “I have to go. He leaves this side. Expect him in minutes.”
The sun bursts through the window, making the entire room glow. If Ilif is coming, I should be ready, instead of cowering on the floor. I wish she’d have given me the task of killing another legend instead of playing nice with Ilif. Would’ve been more likely.
I stand and draw a breath. I’m still incredibly sucky at stowing my emotions, but I need to try. As I exhale, I settle my body into the warrior poses Constantine taught me when we needed to quiet my mind. I sweep my arms across my body and soften my knees. On the next inhale, I bend my elbow and scoop the air beneath my belly and push it away from me. I point my toe and drag the edge of my boot in a large semi-circle, swinging my leg from the hip and pivoting on my other foot.
With each concentrated movement, the chaos of the last few hours slips away and my mind calms enough that I might be able to carry on a conversation with the enemy. I take myself through almost three more rotations before I feel Ilif’s familiar ripple of energy.
I exhale and straighten.
He stands a dozen feet away, still dressed in a preposterously overdone suit. Vaudeville douchebaggery drips from every thread of a crisp brown outfit. He edges half a step away.
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.
&nb
sp; 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 m
y 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.
CHAPTER 8
LOVER, 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.
