Saving Yesterday (TimeShifters Book 1) (10 page)

He smiles, and his eyes are only half open. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Michael strolls back to the hallway, but at the last second, he turns and points to the ledge on the wall.

I notice a piece of paper that wasn’t there before. I’m already pacing toward the wall when I hear the door close. Michael’s gone, and somehow the room feels colder. Trepidation nibbles on my heart as I unfold the paper and scan the words:

Be careful. Don’t ask any more questions. The Elders are watching you.

Loud pounding on the door wakes me with a jolt. I snap up in bed, pulling my covers to my chin like a shield. What now? Did I do something wrong? I can’t think of anything. Why would they come for me again?

After Michael left last night, I paced my room. Folded his note and tucked it into my back pocket. I tried to figure out how to work the overly technical shower in the bathroom and failed miserably. In the end, I curled on top of the bed, and sleep tip-toed in quicker than I would have imagined possible.

My eyes dart around the room. There’s no place to take cover.  Unless you count ducking behind the couch or hiding in the bathroom. Besides, they probably slipped a tracking device under my skin while I slept. The Elders seem the types.

The door opens before I can compose myself.

Lark saunters in, shaking her head as she surveys me, her hands on her hips. “Still in bed. What are we ever going to do with you?”

I glare at her and flip down my covers. “How did you get in? I locked the door.”

She waves a black keycard. “Elder’s daughter comes with the occasional privilege.”

“Well, that’s just great.” When my feet hit the chilled floor, I snatch them back up. A rug would be a nice touch. An eggplant-colored one would match this wacky room.

Lark wrinkles her nose. “Gross. I can’t believe you slept in your clothes.”

“It’s not like I had a choice.” My muscles flex, bracing against the cold as I touch my feet to the ground again.

“You have a closet full of stuff right there.” She points at the wall.

The wall is just that, a wall. No door handle, nothing to hint at a closet, just peeling avocado paint.

I tap my finger on my chin. “Are you sure?”

“You’re hopeless, completely hopeless. How will you ever figure out what to do when you shift?” Lark strides to the wall and presses her palm to it. A wave of light flickers over her, and a door appears. She pushes it open. “Voila! Plenty of clothes.” Her eyebrows are lowered when she turns back around. “Tell me you showered.”

I stand. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t figure it out.”

“Ugh. Swipe your card. There’s a slot by the soap tray.” She pushes a pillow off the couch and grabs a seat. “Go. I’ll wait.”

 First, I stumble into my walk-in closet. Rows of matching shirts and pants line one side. On the other, there are drawers filled with underwear and pajama-type clothing. I snag a change of clothes and head to the bathroom. She’s right. There’s a small slot I didn’t see before, right under the empty soap tray. I slide my purple door card in.

A touch screen appears on the wall with buttons for different kinds of soap, shampoo, and conditioner. I pick apple blossom, and small bottles appear out of the wall and fill the soap tray. Another button gives me a razor and shaving cream. Lark’s waiting, so I try to hurry, but I didn’t realize how tight my muscles were and how good the warm water would feel.

I stand there. Eyes closed. As if the water can wash away the deep knots in my back. But it can’t. Nothing ever will. Less than two days ago, I stood in my small kitchen with Dad. Can that be right? Will I ever get back home? Tears trickle down my cheeks, mingling with the green shampoo. Hands braced against the wall, I drag humid air into my lungs like a drowning victim.
Get a hold of yourself
! Lark can’t hear me. I don’t want word getting out that I’m prone to breakdowns. A liability. Weak.

After toweling off, I yank on my clean clothes and braid my wet hair. A few splashes of cold water from the sink helps take away the blotchy hints of crying. I reach for the door, raising my chin. Movies always depict the resilient hostage as the one that survives. The other Shifters need to think I’m strong—indifferent to how horribly I’ve been treated. It’s the only way to find a chink in their armor. The only way I’ll get home to Dad, Porter, and Emma. All that matters.

Lark’s on her feet when I come back into the room. “Great. Clean. Let’s go.”

I toss my wad of dirty clothes near the unmade bed, and follow her to the door. A moment before she opens it, Lark spins around, facing me. “I’m sorry about my dad yesterday. He ... he can be a bit much.”

“I really don’t think I should say anything.”

She gives me a meek half-smile. “It’s not like that. It doesn’t have to be. Just because my dad’s one of the Elders, it doesn’t mean I agree with everything he does.” Her last words are barely audible.

The only answer I can give is a nod. She looks sincere, right into the depths of her crystal blue eyes, but one word against her father’s not about to buy my trust. For all I know, she’s a set-up. I’ll take actions over words any day.

Reaching around her, I press the button that opens my door. “So what’s on the agenda today?” I brush past her. She has to double-step to catch up, but I don’t wait.

“You start training.”

“Okay, what exactly does that entail?”

“Oh, everything.” Lark shrugs. “Guns, combat, horse-back riding.”

People sweep past me in the hallway. Yesterday, they seemed afraid of me. Today, they keep their eyes on the ground, or on each other, seemingly deep in conversation. Or they’re ignoring me. Or they couldn’t care less about me. Wow, I think way too much.

I focus back on Lark. “Why is horse-back riding so important?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe because since the beginning of the world, the horse has been the main way humans have traveled. Cars didn’t start being used until the late 1800’s. Even then, most people still rode horses. If I’m right, a lot of the world still rides horses in the time you’re from.” She guides me to the entrance of the horse arena and flings open the doors.

That brings me up short. “My time ... so you’re not from then?”

Blonde hair flies as she shakes her head. “A bit before your time.”

No wonder she talks weird sometimes.

Michael’s on the far end leading a reddish horse. He raises his hand in welcome when he sees us, like we might miss him, even though he’s the only person there.

I seize Lark’s arm, stopping her. “Can you train me? It doesn’t have to be Michael, does it?”

She peeks over my shoulder toward where he stands. “You don’t like him?”

Oh, more along the lines of liking him far too much. Just the memory of him tucking my bangs back in place last night makes my heart beat off-kilter.

Lark’s eyebrows draw together. “I don’t know what happened, but I promise he’s a nice guy. Not to mention, easy on the eyes.” She winks.

Not helping.

She sidesteps me and eats up the distance between us and Michael. I trail her like a homeless mutt. Lark pats the horse’s forehead and eases the reins out of Michael’s hands. “So how about I teach Gabby instead of you?”

His eyes dart to mine, full of questions. He hooks his hand on the back of his neck. “Not gonna happen.”

Lark’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, but I don’t think she’s blushing. “Why? Why do you automatically get to do everything?”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m lording something over you. It wasn’t my choice, but I’m her Trainer. I was picked to do this. Nicholas practically tossed her in my lap.”

Wasn’t my choice. Tossed her in my lap.
His words pierce, burrowing deep beneath my skin like long wooden slivers. The pain’s probably for the best. If Lark’s right, then it means Michael has a Pairing waiting for him in his time. Even if I’m not crazy about Porter, I should respect Michael’s Pairing. The warm feeling I had yesterday when he held my hand can’t be right.

I take a half step forward, skirting the horse, whose radar ears follow my movements. Creepy creature. “Um, in case you forgot. I’m standing right here.”

Michael tightens a strap along the horse’s stomach. The horse stomps on the ground a couple times, kicking up dust. “Let’s get you on.”

I back up. “If you don’t even want to be my Trainer, why can’t Lark teach me?”

Michael’s jaw drops, he closes it, and opens it again. “Wait…” He throws his hands to the side. “Don’t tell me you’re offended by what I said. Girls are so weird.”

Lark stands at an angle, crosses her arms, and juts out her chin. “You
did
say that training her wasn’t by choice. That doesn’t sound like you’re all warm and fuzzy about the job.”

He runs his hand through his hair. “That’s not what I meant. Stop bending my words.”

I bite my cheek. “That’s what I heard too.”

“Well, we’ll have to have Darnell check your hearing later. Lark, you can head out.” He points at me, then the horse. “You, horse, now.”

Lark faces me and gives my arm a squeeze. “Just ignore him if you can. I’ll see you later. You’ll need my help with the bomb making. Even he’ll admit that I’m way better at that than he is.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and strolls out of the arena.

Bomb making? My heart sinks.

Michael clears his throat. “All right, Gabby, we don’t have all day.”

I knit my fingers together. “How about we start with something else?” Guns sound easier than horses. More predictable.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of Polly? She’s an old mare. A pet kitten would be more dangerous than her.”

Once when I was younger, Dad brought home a pet rabbit. Thought I needed company. A day later, ten-inch scratches on my arms proved that me and animals don’t mix. Emma took the demon bunny off our hands. We’ve never had another pet since.

I kick the toe of my shoe into the sand. “Well, Polly keeps moving her ears in circles like she’s possessed or something. I don’t trust her. Besides, kittens have claws. So they don’t exactly fall into the harmless category in my book either.”

He strokes Polly’s shoulder. “That’s how a horse senses their surroundings. See, her ears are up now. She’s safe. Horses are good like that. They’ll let you know if they don’t like you. Or don’t trust you. If that was the case, Polly’s ears would be flat against her head.”

“Let’s make a deal. If I shift to say, something B.C., then I’ll just walk.”

 “Yeah, that’s not going to work.” He holds out his hand. If I don’t do as he asks, he’ll probably grab my hand. That can’t happen. My eyes meet his, and Michael gives me a heart-robbing smile, which really doesn’t help. My heart beats a little faster. I clench and unclench my fingers.

I stalk forward and grab the foot piece on the saddle. “Fine. Now what?”

“Get your foot in the stirrup.”

“All the way up there? I’m sure you could find me a shorter horse. A pony?”

“Here.” He crouches on the ground, his fingers knit together to form a step.

Note to self, Michael’s not the compromising type.

I slip my foot into his hands, and he gives me a boost. I’m in the saddle before I have time to react. The horse moves its feet, making me list to the side. I grab for the saddle horn, but my sweaty hands slip right off.

Michael strokes the horse’s neck, his voice firm. “Steady.”

“She doesn’t like me.” I move to get down, but Michael lays a hand on my calf.

“If you’re really that scared, I’ll ride with you.”

I chew on my lip. “Should I get down? Doesn’t the guy usually ride in front?”

He barks out a laugh. “You’ve watched too many movies.” With a nudge, he moves my foot out of the holder and swings up behind me. I slip my foot back into the stirrup. He’s not in the saddle with me, so he must be actually on the horse. His arms come up around me, and he grasps my hands as they hold the reins.

“We’ll steer together. You wouldn’t learn anything if you just held on behind me. Go ahead and give Polly a little kick with your heels.”

The horse begrudgingly lumbers forward. We’re moving about as fast as a merry-go-round. Even still, I lean back against Michael a little. His solid presence behind me helps quiet my nerves. Well, about riding at least.

When he speaks again, I can feel his breath warm against my ear. “When we were talking to Lark and I said I didn’t choose to be your Trainer, I said that so she couldn’t fight me. I wanted to make it sound like Nicholas only wanted me helping you. Make it impossible for her to argue, you know?”

The Pairing. The Pairing. The Pairing.
Maybe if I repeat it enough… I try to picture what his Pairing must look like. Maybe she’s an exotic girl with dark eyes and long, shiny hair. Or a pretty red-head with a smile that makes him light up. Ugh. I don’t like her already.

“You ... you didn’t want her training me?”

“You’re different, refreshing. Is it so bad if I want to keep you nearby? Besides, since you crashed my mission, I feel responsible for you.” I feel him shrug.

If we weren’t plodding along on a horse, I’d close my eyes—take in his words. No one has ever felt the need to watch out for me. No one ever cared enough.