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

by Jen Greyson

  He opens his mouth to say something, but I tug his face to mine and curl my leg around the back of his thigh. He chuckles against my lips and gives in to my assault, drawing my lower lip between his teeth and nibbling it gently.

  Tugging me upward, he carries me to the bedroom and snuggles us deep beneath the blankets.

  In the silence, we find a solid space to exist and I drift off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 23

  MORNING COMES TOO early, and the trilling melody of the forest birds calls me awake. Beside me, Constantine snores softly. A sunbeam slices the ceiling in half, and I follow its path down the wall until it catches the tips of his hair on fire, bathing his entire face in golden light. My dreams didn’t bring me a single solution, only a few hours of peace. He stirs and flops an arm around my waist and pulls me tight. I turn and settle against the warm, hard spoon. His contented sigh brushes the strands of hair at my ear, and his hand traces a slow path back and forth over the curve of my hip.

  The cot squeaks as he rises to one elbow and kisses my shoulder. “As much as I delight in waking like this, I have to meet men this morning.”

  “I need to go, too.” I roll to my back and lift my hand to his cheek. He lowers his face and kisses me sweetly. I link my hands behind his head and deepen the kiss, searing it on his memory in case it’s a year before he gets another.

  His fingers wander up my ribs and slip around my back until he’s propped on his elbows and draped across me. Ending the kiss, he raises his head. The question is there again, but he doesn’t voice it.

  Instead, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and cradles my face. “I miss you.”

  I turn my face into his palm and kiss it. “I miss you, too. I hope you know that. Even when I’m gone I think about you all the time.”

  “I hope so.” He traces my eyebrows and the bridge of my nose.

  I open my mouth and close it. I don’t know what to say to him. I’d like to figure out how to not be gone so long, but my arcs are as erratic as ever.

  “I wish you would just stay,” he says.

  I tug one hand free and lift it to his cheek. “I know.”

  What else is there to say? I’m not capable of existing without my lightning. Staying here would mean giving up who I am—who he wants. Even with the confusion surrounding Nikola’s alteration, I’ve finally found my place in the world, the space that’s my perfect fit. I snuggle closer to him and he wraps his arms around me. His heartbeat beneath my cheek feels so right. Because this is my place, too. There has to be a way to make them fit together.

  He wraps my hair around his wrist, fingering the frayed ends like a toddler with a blanket. Maybe I can find a way to be here every night. There has to be a way to bookmark this now so I can come see him whenever I want, not just when it fits with Aurelia’s arc or my training.

  “It won’t be a year,” I say.

  “How do you know?”

  I smooth the hair back from his forehead, but don’t insult him by lying. He leans into the pressure of my strokes.

  “I thought you came to talk,” he says.

  “I thought so, too, but since I never know how long we’re going to have, talking seemed like a lousy way to spend the time.”

  He kisses me and rises from the bed. I follow and we dress in silence. Bits of my clothes are strewn everywhere, pants in the corner, two halves of a bra, my borrowed tunic. As I fold the tunic, I finger the soft fabric, replaying scenes from yesterday.

  Then he’s in the doorway, and our time is over. I set the outfit on the end of his bed, stretching every possible second.

  As if catching an injured bird, he cradles my hand and leads us into the front room. He stops by the door and turns, drawing me close enough to brush his fingers against my cheek. I look away.

  I wrap my arms around him, holding him as tight as I can. Tears sting my eyes and I press my face into his chest. He squeezes me back.

  Beyond the room, the camp wakes and warriors are on the move. His hands fall away and I take a step back.

  “I’ll come back as soon as I can,” I say, and even to my ears it sounds lame.

  He nods and the muscles in his jaw clench. “Be safe.”

  Before I do something stupid, I knead a strand of lightning into a ball and think of Papi.

  Constantine’s intense gaze escorts me out.

  My return to Papi’s house is uneventful, though I’m constantly amazed at how loud it is here. Everything buzzes—lights, cords, the atmosphere—Constantine’s time is so quiet in comparison. Or maybe I’m just making up reasons to go back.

  I wander through the house and find Papi and Tiana in the back room, but I hesitate on the threshold. A fight blares from the TV, and Papi’s stretched out on the couch, one of Mami’s colorful afghans covering him from chin to toes. Tiana’s tucked in his big orange armchair, twirling gum around her finger.

  “Hi,” I say.

  They both look up and Papi fumbles for the remote, muting the play-by-play. He winces as he sets it on the table, making my guts twist. The burns on his face are healing, but his hands are still heavily bandaged. My hands shake and I frantically swipe an orange off the counter to make them stop.

  I trip my way down the stairs and will my knees to hold me upright. Tiana smiles at me from her perch on the chair, and I lift my fingers in a half wave then stop at the end of the couch. “How you feeling?” I ask Papi.

  With painful movements that make him look twenty years older than he is, he sits up and sets his feet on the floor. “Like I got pummeled for the last three rounds.”

  The orange falls to the floor and I crash to my knees beside the couch. “I’m sorry, Papi. I’m so sorry.”

  He wraps me in a tight hug and pulls me against his chest. “I’m the one who’s sorry, mija,” he whispers. “It’s my own fault.”

  I tremble and try to shake my head. Words won’t come. We sit like that for a long time. He presses his cheek against the top of my head and I finally stop shaking. He tries to help me stand, but as he sits, he winces and grabs his stomach.

  “What have I done to you,” I whisper. Tears fill my eyes again and I sag into the couch next to him. He eases back and holds a bandaged hand to me. I cradle it between mine and gently rub the undamaged exposed skin I can find. Silence stretches and I manage to pull myself together.

  “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  “Me, too.” He laughs, but it turns into a cough.

  “Are you always gone this long?” Tiana asks.

  “How long?”

  “Since last Tuesday.”

  I sigh. “Seems to change every time.”

  “Making any headway?” he asks.

  I tuck my feet underneath me and twirl my fingers through the long threads of the blanket. “No. Penya still doesn’t know where Ilif’s keeping her, and this new alteration”—I untangle my fingers and smooth the threads—“is deceptively simple. I’m missing something.”

  He stretches forward and pokes the remote, killing the TV. “Want to tell me about it?”

  Tiana puts her hands on the armrests, and Papi turns to her before she’s completely out of the chair. “You get to stay.” He glances back at me. “You need to hear this.”

  Her eyes dart to mine. I nod.

  “Evy already told me about the time traveling,” she says, fidgeting.

  “I know,” Papi says. “No more secrets.”

  I grin. Finally.

  He touches my knee. “No more chatting over e-mail either, si?”

  I grin. If he can get better, he can start going with me on these things. I wouldn’t have half my issues with someone to bounce ideas off, or to rein me in before I go half-cocked and jack something up.

  I breathe deep. No more whining. This job is turning me into a complete puss.

  “What did the doctors say about your recovery?”

  “I’m lucky to be alive. A direct hit like that should have killed me. I think they’re still trying to figure out why it
didn’t.”

  “Why didn’t it?” Tiana asks.

  Papi and I exchange glances. “No secrets,” I say.

  “Normally, riders heal quickly,” he says. “Before Evy took me back to Spain, I’d turned off my ability.”

  “So why don’t you just turn it back on?” Tiana asks.

  I raise my eyebrows. How did we not think of that? Why didn’t Penya suggest it? That should have been her first idea.

  He lifts a bandaged hand to his face and we stare at each other. I silently plead with him to do it. “Okay, okay. It’s on the top shelf.”

  I bounce off the couch like he hit an eject button and race to his office. The box that started this whole adventure sits unassuming, next to construction workbooks and travel posters where I left it. I get it down, stuff the remaining booklets in my back pocket, and grab the leather book. With it tucked beneath my arm, I sit beside him. Tiana takes the spot on his other side.

  With a slight tremble in his hand, he turns to the back of the book and flips a few pages toward the beginning. He spreads his fingers wide across a page. “Here it is.”

  Tiana and I lean forward. I skim the words, knowing most of what’s here.

  “It’s in Spanish,” Tiana says, surprised.

  Papi smiles.

  “What—” Tiana squeaks as the words change.

  “We get cool language accessories,” I say.

  Now that the words have reformed into English, she mouths them.

  Papi slides his finger to the bottom of the page. “This is the instruction to turn it off.”

  I look away. I don’t want to even read a word of that part. Never mind that arcing is my way back to Constantine. I could never give up my lightning. Even with the hassle and confusion and risk, they’re still the best days of my life.

  Clasping his hands together over the words, Papi turns to me. “This is not a guarantee that I’m going with you again. I’m doing this to heal.”

  “Penya told you it wouldn’t be a disaster again. That was because Ilif was purposely screwing things up.”

  “Without her, I won’t know what to change. When you find her, I’ll try it again. Not until.”

  With the bandages and burns, his young boxer face is even harder to read. Stern and unmovable are the only emotions projected. Since I know that’s not all he’s capable of, I choose to ignore them and nod, giving him whatever answer he needs to push onward.

  Tiana scoots toward the far end of the couch. “Is there a big flash or anything?”

  “Probably not,” I say.

  “Most likely,” Papi says at the same time, begrudgingly.

  Tiana looks between us.

  “Papi’s not very good at this yet,” I say.

  He huffs.

  “But he’s going to get very good with practice.”

  “Oh.” She brightens. “Like the dancing.”

  I laugh. That’s the excuse he used to convince me in the beginning. “Yeah, Papi,” I tease. “Like the dancing.”

  The corner of his mouth lifts in a slight smile. “What was I thinking, letting you two team up on me?”

  “Just do it.”

  He reads the short paragraph and I bite my lip. Nothing happens.

  Tiana and I exchange glances over his head.

  He closes the book and hands it to Tiana. “Nothing happened when I turned it off either.” He stands and tosses the blanket on the ground. Tiana’s eyes widen. I shake my head.

  With sure, swift movements, he crosses the room and jogs up the steps. Not until I hear the bathroom door close, do I exhale.

  “It really works that fast?” Tiana asks, breathless.

  I look back at the empty doorway Papi passed through. “Apparently.”

  Barely a minute passes before he’s back, standing breathless in the doorway. His face is pristine, no scar tissue, no scabs. He holds up his hands and hops over the four steps, landing deftly on the carpet. “I feel like nothing even happened.”

  Beside me, Tiana preens. Even if she doesn’t have the gift of riding, her intuition is priceless. I pat her shoulder. “Good going, sis.”

  “Do not tell your mother what we did.”

  “No secrets, daddy.”

  He groans.

  “She’s right,” I say. “The only way this is going to work is if we’re all in it together. Besides, don’t you think she’s going to wonder how you got miraculously better?”

  “Speaking of which,” he says, sitting between us and sliding the book into his lap, “I think it’s time we change up the bedtime stories around here.”

  “Ugh.” Tiana flops back against the couch. I roll my eyes. Fourteen, what an awesome age.

  He smoothes the cover. “Oh, I think you’re going to like these ones.”

  I jut my chin toward the book. “Did you ever find anything in there about at what age it starts?”

  Tiana sits up. “Fourteen, I’m sure it’s fourteen.”

  “There aren’t any girl riders, Ti,” I say.

  “What about you?”

  Papi leans back on the couch. “I wonder.”

  “Surely not,” I say. “Ilif swore I was an anomaly.”

  He shrugs. “Since when do you believe anything Ilif tells you?“

  “Like you’d let me do something like that,” she says. “I can barely get you to let me practice driving.”

  “Driving wasn’t a birthright.”

  She scrunches her face. I wonder what Tiana would be like as a rider. She’s so much softer than me. No cavalier attitude. Good at following directions. Doubtful that her alterations would get as convoluted as mine.

  “She’d be the first rider to start with someone guiding her.”

  “Same rule goes for her. Not until you find Penya.”

  “Then you’ll let me?” She’s nearly levitating off the couch.

  “We’ll see.”

  She claps her hands together. “Okay, so how do we find this Penya?”

  At her question, I stand and pace. Bimni whines and scratches at the door. I slide it open, breathing in the cool wintery air. “There has to be a way to follow Ilif and get to Penya, I just haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “Residue is out of the question,” Papi says, running a hand over his forearm.

  “So what else?” I raise my hands and drum them against the glass.

  “Do you know anything about where she is?” Tiana asks.

  “No, she’s always too busy telling me what new thing she’s found in Ilif’s lab.”

  “Then why in the world do you want her to leave?” Tiana asks. “Sounds like she’s doing more good there than she would on the outside. Obviously he doesn’t realize she’s going through all his stuff. How else would you ever get to look inside his lab?”

  Shock me speechless. I stare at her until Bimni pads back into the room.

  “I’ve been searching for a way to get her out.”

  “Well, stop.”

  “Tiana’s right,” Papi says. “If he’s using Penya to travel he won’t harm her.”

  I don’t have an answer to their logic. On the way back to my seat, I rub the back of my neck and pull my braid forward, brushing the frayed end against my palm.

  “What of your Constantine,” Papi asks as I sit.

  On the side table, a small figurine catches my attention, and I rub my thumb across the top, until I blink away the tears. I clear my throat and lower myself to the chair, searching for a plausible answer.

  “That bad?” he says.

  I press my lips together. “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Tiana’s scrambles out of her chair and into mine. Perched on the arm like a bird, she rubs my back and whispers in my ear. “You didn’t tell me there were boys.”

  I laugh and my chest loosens. “There are boys.”

  “When’s my first lesson?”

  CHAPTER 24

  LED BY AN orchestra of noise, Mami and my other little sisters arrive home. She us
hers them into the room and gasps. “Evy!”

  When she sees Papi, she drops the groceries, and her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh… Oh!”

  He rushes to her side and hugs her tight then swings her around. Desiree and Sophia dance in a circle, singing and laughing. Getting caught up in the joy isn’t hard, and Tiana and I join in.

  “Put me down.” Mami playfully slaps at his arms, but she’s doing a terrible job of hiding her relief. After another rotation, he lowers her into a dip and plants a smacking kiss on her lips. She rebuffs him, but only for a second, and then her hand slides around his neck and she kisses him back in earnest. We all make gross-out noises.

  Mine are fake. Finally, one part of my life is righting.

  I sigh and Ti squeezes me. I hug her back and whisper in her ear, “I need to take off.”

  She shakes her head. Behind her, Papi puts Mami on her feet and she pats his cheek. “Bring these groceries.”

  He grabs the bag and circles behind us on the way to the kitchen. He shifts the groceries to one hand and curls his rejuvenated fingers around my wrist. “Stay.”

  My attention darts around the room. Desiree and Sophia now lie half beneath the Christmas tree, playing with new dolls. Tiana takes the groceries from Papi and leaves us alone.

  “We need more family,” he says. “You need a home base. I know you’re grown and have your own place, but”—he clears his throat—“since you missed Christmas dinner, maybe you could stay for tonight’s.”

  I bite my lip and think about the things I still need to sort out. I’m boxing shadows. Since the moment I got my power, I’ve been going nonstop. I’ve barely eaten, let alone paused long enough for a real meal. Arcing might be great for the body, but my emotions and mind need downtime. In the kitchen, Mami’s chatter and clatter of pans is balm for my soul.

  I raise my hand to my neck and pull my braid forward, rubbing the end across my lips. Papi leaves me to the decision and scoops Desiree and Sophia around the waist, swinging them until they squeal. He shoos them in the dining room and tells them to set the table. After carefully placing their dolls in toy high chairs, they disappear behind the wall and add plates and silverware to the symphony.