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

by Jen Greyson

  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.

  CHAPTER 13

  THE 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 allowed 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.”

  He lets out a big breath and positions his hand a few inches from my back, ushering me toward the couch. “Come, tell me of your time travel.”

  Though he never touches me, he’s obviously perfected the art of moving people where he needs them. In the center of the room, a small love seat sits flanked by two chairs. I take a chair, leaving him options.

  He pauses at the edge of the arrangement and glances at the door, staring at it a few moments before responding, “I remember him.”

  “Who? Ilif?”

  He nods slowly. “At one of my first presentations. He sat in the front row. Younger though, much younger… ”

  That freaks me out more than I’m willing to admit. Clearly Ilif has been working on using Nikola’s inventions from the very beginning. That disturbs me on a level I’m uncomfortable admitting.

  “He needed my assistance.”

  “With what?” I whisper. My throat constricts painfully.

  “Interesting that he’s here… now,” he says, still staring at the door. He absently ruffles the hair behind his ear. “Even then, Ilif’s work in the scientific community lent him both credibility and access to top secret proj
ects. By the time he came to see me, he’d become an international liaison, working with dozens of governments.”

  An icy knife presses against the small of my back. “Gaining him what?”

  “That’s what’s so interesting about the whole thing. His efforts were not for his own gain, but rather what he sought for others. For centuries, countries have stifled the work of scientists—even my own Serbia. Ilif’s international exposure benefited many. Word spread and he became something of an underground railroad to move scientists and their work. He even went so far as to publish works under his own name to keep others’ involvement secret.”

  That sounds nothing like the guy I know. The one with the agendas inside agendas. “Was it really that helpful?”

  “Had he been allowed to continue, he’d probably have impacted hundreds of lives.”

  “What stopped him?”

  “His wife had other plans.”

  “His wife?”

  He waves my outburst away. “A Spaniard. Legendary in her own scientific advancements.”

  I gulp in air. Bits of Ilif’s final rage in Spain overwhelm me. He was hell-bent on eliminating a certain Spanish scientist. Surely he hadn’t mean his own wife…

  “There was another woman who used to work with him… Penny, or some such name.”

  “Penya,” I croak, crossing my arms across my stomach and rocking forward.

  He snaps. “Yes, that’s it. Brilliant mind.”

  Oh… what have I gotten involved in this time? Penya is in more danger than I knew. I should have saved her first. Ilif’s threats may be more real than I’d given credence to.

  “So did you help him?” I whisper.

  “I did. He only needed verification of a simple theory. One I’d solved a year before. Seems he was working on something with a European group.”

  The information swarms me. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember where I am in history and when things get nasty, but I think we’re still a few decades out. I inhale and squeeze my elbows.

  Nikola perches on the edge of the other chair, his knee almost touching mine. “Yet you say he’s involved with your time travel now. Tell me of it, and maybe we can figure out this Ilif character.”

  Ha! There’s no figuring out crazy. I swallow and loosen my vise-grip on my arms. Freaking out won’t solve this for me. I need to think and chill. Inhaling, I settle back into the cushions.

  I spend the next few minutes telling Nikola how I travel, and though he presses me for the scientific methods that I have no answer for, he seems satisfied with what I’m able to share. While we talk, his easy camaraderie calms my permanent edginess. I talk more with him than I’ve ever talked with anyone. Constantine and I may spend more time together, but we use our bodies instead of our words. With Nikola, I can’t use touch or even body language to punctuate and stress my points because he’s oblivious to both. He hears words and only the literal meaning. I’ve never worked so hard on a conversation or cared so much to get it right.

  He leans back in his chair with a slouch, the first relaxed posture I’ve seen him take. A wide smile caresses his face and he steeples his fingers at his chin, with a look at supreme satisfaction. If I thought Nikola ever explored anything as chaotic or messy as sex, I’d say this is what his O face looks like.

  “One other thing.” I spread my palms. No longer constrained, the lightning comes alive inside me, battering against my senses where I’ve kept it in check. The electric snakes furl and coil together in my palm, sizzling against each other.

  Nikola grows as still as death. Then, like a corpse rising from the grave, he leans forward until his nose nearly touches my palms.

  My lightning expands to the size of a soccer ball.

  Nikola stretches his hand toward the electricity. “No wonder you’re not scared of my lightning.”

  He studies it, and I watch, fascinated as he calculates things in his head, pausing just millimeters away. I pull my hand away before he accidentally touches it. With what Constantine and I learned, I don’t want to injure Nikola.

  “May I?” He cups his other hand like he’s asking for me to toss him a grapefruit.

  I pull my hand back a few inches. “That’s not a good idea. It tends to scorch people.”

  “Only when used as a weapon. In this state, it is harmless.” He reaches for it again.

  I jerk it back. “How can you know?”

  He lifts his gaze to me, one eyebrow quirked upward. The mockery is gentle, but effective.

  “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  The lightning responds, stretching toward his hands. One tendril at first, and then it multiplies until the coils link between our hands and wrap all the way around. I watch his face for a reaction, but he’s deep in thought, studying.

  The tendrils don’t leave my hand completely, but entwine his with mine. Nikola lifts his hand, drawing the lightning back and forth like taffy. First, it extends into a long, thick rope as he draws his arm away then retracts like a bungee cord, obeying his movements. I’m as mesmerized as he is. The lightning isn’t crackly and angry like it is when I use it. With him, it seems calmer, more obedient. “I don’t understand.”

  “Lightning is energy. You and I are energy.” He rolls his hand above mine, palm down, and the lightning halves itself, creating another ball. Mirrored one above the other, they seem… content.

  “I’ve never seen it behave like this.”

  “Emotions disturb energy. When you travel, are you calm or agitated or angry?”

  “Hardly ever the first.” Under attack, lusting, scared, never calm.

  “Yet we sit here now, calmly discussing science.”

  “And it’s picking up on our mellow state?” Interesting.

  He studies it and lifts his gaze to mine, but it’s a thousand-yard stare. “I understand now the piece I’ve been missing in my own work. It will take some configuring, but I know what I need to do.”

  I hear the wonder in his voice, but also the artist’s strain. Happens to me all the time when I’m seeing a bike for the first time in my mind. I have yet to meet an artist who can do this phase in anything other than solitude, and he can barely do anything with people around as it is. “How much time do you need?”

  His voice is far away when he answers, already lost to the art. “Possibly a few months.” His eyes focus on me finally. “I apologize, but what we had planned for you will have to wait. This will take all my time.”

  My stomach clenches, and the lightning fractures. Nikola jumps and reaches toward my hand then recovers.

  Super. I probably just screwed up history by letting him play with my lightning. And not the way I’m supposed to. “How will you raise the money you need?”

  He can barely concentrate on me long enough to answer. “J.P. will have to handle it.”

  “Who’s that? Did I meet him last night?”

  “J.P. Morgan.” He waves a hand. “He missed last night.”

  I take a breath and chill. The lightning calms and snuffs out. Nothing will happen while I’m not here and he’s working in whatever new direction. I get to trust this thing that leads me, trust my intuition, my lightning, my power. This alteration will work exactly as it must, and if I leave now, I’ll return exactly when he needs me.

  I stand. “I’ll let you get to it.”

  “Will you come back?”

  “I will.” There’s something about Nikola, and far beyond the scientist. Someone I want to know, truly know. I like him. He makes me different. Around him I don’t have to defend my actions. I just am. Constantine accepts me as a warrior, but he still pushes me to be more. Nikola accepts this now. It’s… nice.

  He could easily become a brother to me… Sometimes older, sometimes younger, but still that strange bond that tugs at the hearts of siblings, an invisible string pulling you both closer and yet irritating at the same time.

  There’s an excitement around him now, and I can tell he’s eager to get back to work. I mo
ve back to the desk, sweeping my papers off the edge in a stack. Careful not to touch him, I hand him the documents. “But I still think you can do this marketing… Make one of the wives or this J.P. do it. But you’ll need to do these, not just for the money, but for the contacts, and their approval.”

  His gaze narrows.

  “I know you don’t need their approval. I get that. What I’m saying is they need to give you their approval to make themselves feel better about what you’re doing.… To make it less scary.… And to go on this journey with you into the unknown. Whether you need it or not is irrelevant. They need to give it to you.”

  His gaze hasn’t strayed, and I can feel him weighing my words. Gauging the truth beneath them. With a nod, he takes the papers from me, touches the corners precisely, and folds them with a smart crease. Then he slips them into his breast pocket and clasps his hands at his waist. “You’re right.”

  I understand how difficult that is for him. Heaven knows I’ve been there. There’s nothing worse than having to seek approval for something your heart knows is right. Too bad that’s the world we live in.

  Emotion surges into my chest and I blink back the rush of curious tears. I want to tell him what a difference he’s going to make in every life. How his inventions will touch every human being. How he’ll be responsible for everything from getting people to work by car and rail, to changing their lives with radios and televisions. I want to tell him that he’s the father of the twenty-first century.

  For now, that praise will have to wait.

  I walk him to the door and we pause together in the opening. With a half bow, he bids me goodbye.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

  “Somewhat,” he says. “I think you’re smarter than my assistants… But I don’t want you to hate me, and that’s what always happens when people work with me. It’s necessary for you to like me, and if that means making you wait a few months until I can poke my head out of the lab, then it must.”

  I smile at him. “I do like you.”

  The corner of his mouth lifts in a teasing smile. “Then I’d better leave now.”