Shadow Boxer: NA Fantasy/Time Travel (Tesla Time Travelers Book 2) (23 page)

Papi finishes his soda and sets it on the patio railing. I snap my hand forward and send the can tumbling end over end.

“Now me,” Tiana says.

I glance at Papi and he nods.

“I can’t really tell you how to find your lightning. Mine kind of erupts from me. It shows up when I need it.”

“That’s helpful.”

“She’s right,” Papi says. “It was the same with me, even though I only managed it once.”

“There are two different lightnings, too. When I arc it’s raw, almost uncontrollable… like it wants to fling me to the other end of the universe as hard as it can. Once I create my arcing lightning, it’s really hard to stay put for long. My weapon is different. It anchors me in the now, almost to the point of sealing me to the earth. It’s still barely containable—” Unless Nikola’s right about my emotion.

“How do you know she can?” Mami interrupts. “I thought you were the only girl.”

I shrug. “I suppose we don’t, but if I’m it, and Papi didn’t have any boys, passing this on just got a whole lot harder.”

“I want to try,” Tiana says.

After a few bumbling attempts, Papi and I manage to fling enough advice that Tiana finally creates her own tiny lightning fractures. I hold a ball of my own toward her and snap my wrist, making a long rope.

The little girls flap their arms, too, but eventually grow bored of all the instruction and wander into the shadows looking for ghosts.

Tiana concentrates on my movements then manages to flatten her ball. But when she flicks her arm, it curls back and latches onto her elbow. No matter how many different angles she tries, the lightning won’t release from her arm and dangle like it does for me.

I take the can out three more times.

Mami shivers and the little girls are back, watching us and whining about the cold. Finally, she stands and shepherds them back inside. As she closes the door, she pauses and smiles. “Good job, dear.”

Papi drags her chair over and leans forward, his arms on his knees. “Do it again.”

Tiana sets up the can. I step another five feet away and fling my hand sideways. The can flies into the air. Tiana wrinkles her nose and shakes her hand harder, but the lightning barely separates from her skin.

When I step into the grass to retrieve it, she snaps her whole arm toward my butt, like she’s holding a wet towel. I whip around. “Really?”

She bounces back and forth on her feet, shaking her hand and trying to get the lightning to obey her. I raise my eyebrows and widen my stance then flick a short strand at her, stealing her flopping tendril.
 

“Not fair,” she squeals.

She makes a new one, and we face off again.

“Move your feet, Evy,” Papi says. “Stay on your balls. You’re waiting too long and dropping your hands.”

I soften my stance and bounce back and forth on my toes. Memories of long nights at the boxing club come back to me, and my movements become more fluid.

Papi stands and steps closer, hand on his chin. “Tiana, use it like you’re wearing gloves. It will help you move and defend.”

She curls her tiny fists and stops trying to fling her arm, keeping it tight against her body and jabbing. The tendrils fatten and respond and surround her fists like thick boxing gloves. I laugh and test her new gloves with a flick of my wrist. She pistons her right arm forward, busting my whip into shards of light.

“Let me try that,” Papi says.

I chuckle and step off the lawn. Tiana curls her hand into another glove, and Papi mimics her movement, but he can’t duplicate them. He can still only make a sputtering flash.

“Hold still,” he says, enclosing his hands around Tiana’s. Her lightning engulfs them both, but as soon as he pulls away, the lightning springs back into place like a stretchy glove.

“Maybe try the whips,” I say.

“If I’m going to do it, it’ll be as a boxer,” he snaps.

I raise an eyebrow and spin the chair, straddling it backward. “Better hurry. Your opponent looks ready.”

Tiana’s dancing back and forth, looking like she’s the world champ, not about to fight one. Happiness bubbles up inside me. Of all the holidays we’ve spent together, this one tops them all.

“You know,” I offer, after Papi fails the third time, “Constantine doesn’t fight me with lightning, he uses his own weapon.

He straightens and watches Tiana duck and jab, dancing a semi-circle around him. “Hold on.”

I can’t suppress the giggle as he strides past me. “You better practice,” I tell Tiana.

Fighting an imaginary opponent, she swings and dodges her way across the yard and back. For a tiny thing, she’s got a pretty good uppercut and not a half-bad jab. Fairly certain Papi’s about to knock her on her ass, though.

Behind me, the sliding glass door whooshes open then closed. “Alright, Pixie, let’s see what you got.”

He’s changed into a T-shirt, boxing shorts, and his best boxing shoes. Worn leather gloves encase his hands, and he’s smacking them together. Large curves of muscle bunch in his shoulders and arms. He’s still a welterweight, so he’s tight and compact… a different deadly than Constantine. Tiana reaches barely to the peak of his chest. But that doesn’t seem to be dousing any of her confidence. Her grin is nearly as bright as her gloves.

“Ding, ding,” I say, tapping an imaginary bell.

Tiana holds her fists out, and Papi bumps them with his and bounces backward. I try not to laugh, but his seriousness is cracking me up. Tiana fires an uppercut. The lightning expands, pulsing a huge wave of energy in front of it, rippling the air. Papi raises his fists, but the blow still forces him back a step. The recoil sends her to the left. Clearly she has no idea what she’s doing, but A for effort.

I’m so impressed with her I can hardly stand it. I didn’t even think to use them like gloves. For me, they’ve always been such different weapons. I love that she paid attention to all those lessons growing up.

Papi adjusts his feet and compresses his core. For a moment, I’m worried that he’ll forget who he’s fighting. Tiana circles with him, hands high, eyes bright, and calculating his next movement. Just like he taught us.

He jabs at her head and she blocks it. Same for his uppercut. And his one-two combo. She’s a whirling, dancing mass of energy, and he can’t find a way past it.

From here, she looks like eighty pounds of awesome.

The thought of having her at my side is nearly crippling. I blink away the tears and watch them spar. Hard to believe Papi was on death’s door when I got here. Or that I’ve ever doubted Tiana’s strength. She may be tiny, but that girl packs a wallop.

She swings and swings, backing Papi up against the fence on the north side of the yard.

“What’s going on?” Mrs. Rial calls from her open kitchen window on the other side of the fence.

Tiana’s lightning vanishes and Papi pulls her close. I stand and wave. “Nothing. Just a little New Year’s fun.”

She harrumphs, and after she slams the window, we burst into laughter.
 

Tiana skips across the yard, calling over her shoulder, “Lucky for you.”

Papi taps his gloves together and follows her to where I’m sliding the chair back against the house. He holds his gloves out for us and we unlace them and pull them off. Then he loops an arm around our necks and hugs us, dragging us back into the house.

Inside, the emotion is nearly palpable. With my heart swelling, I grin and squeeze between Mami and Desiree on the couch. Mami smiles and returns to her knitting.

Desiree scrambles out from under me with a squeal. “You’re squishing me.”

I soak it in for another minute and sigh. “I have to go.”

Mami’s knitting needles pause and restart. “Be safe. Will you come back here? I can make up your bed again.”

I lean closer and lay my head on her shoulder, inhaling her unique perfume of roses and peppers. I don’t want to be alone at my giant empty house. Maybe once I get a better handle on everything, but not right now. “I’d like that.”

She kisses my head without missing a purl.

“I never really know when I’m going to show up though.”

“No matter. It will be ready.”

I blink back the tears and kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Mami.”

Standing, I smile at Tiana across the room, where she’s discussing boxing strategy with Papi and he’s correcting her form. Papi jumps up. “You out of here?”

I straighten. “Off to save the world.”

He smiles. “Proud of you,
mija
.”

He cups Tiana’s shoulder as she ducks under his arm. “Can’t wait until I can come, too.”

“Me either.” They move together and enfold me with the little girls and Mami at my back for a giant family hug. I inhale, and breathe in the love and support.

“Can you lightning away from here?” Mami asks.

“No. I’d pull you all with me.”

“Oh.” She startles and steps away, tugging Desiree and Sophia against the front of her legs. “Be careful, then.”

Papi gives me a final squeeze and Tiana kisses my cheek. “Come home soon,” she whispers.

I step away and make a ball between my hands then let my lightning hurl me.

C
HAPTER
25

T
HE
TRAINING
GROUND
unfolds empty before me. Quiet blankets the field. Even the trees are silent. A single shrill cry breaks the darkness, accompanied by the flutter of wings, and then the night settles back to a peaceful calm. I’m still not sure how I’m managing to add these arcs to Constantine. Penya said I’d be able to keep Aurelia safe, but I’ve only seen her once out of all the trips.
 

Maybe one day I’ll figure all the riding out.

Speaking of which… I tug the booklets from my pocket and uncrinkle the bent covers. I’m going to have to make copies or scan them or something. There won’t be anything left if I keep carting them around.

While I wait for Constantine to show up, I perch on a hunk of log and flip to a note in the back that caught my attention last time. Something about—there it is—water.

When lightning of any color is used in or near water, riders should expect disturbances, up to and including explosions, erratic displays, color changes, and unreliable arcs.

No wonder the arc out of Aurelia’s fountain flung me to the Salt Flats. And totally explains why I couldn’t get anything right with Rom. The iron band around my chest loosens. Guess I’m less of a fuckup than I thought.

I flip to the color page and scan the list to see what other ones we need to figure out today. We haven’t tested green at all, but I’m not sure where we can find a lock to seize around here. Purple and red make me nervous, and after last time, I think I’m pretty sure about what they do, but there’s a tiny note about opacity affecting the intensity. Might be handy to have the option to turn it down so I’m wielding a Taser instead of a death ray. I flip a few pages deeper, but there’s nothing about Nikola’s orange and pink. Did he create new ones?

“Reading again?”

My head jerks up and I smile. Constantine sweeps me up and swings me around, covering my lips with a warm, soft kiss. I put my hands on his shoulders and laugh. “Bribery won’t make it any less than a bullshit training regimen.”

“Then I must try harder.” He tumbles us to the ground and kisses me thoroughly. My worries and troubles slip away beneath the slow swirl of his tongue against mine. When he lifts his head, I’m drunk on it.
 

He grins. “And now?”

I press my lips softly to his. “Now, I’d endure any training.”

He tugs us upright and scans the field.
 

“Where are all your soldiers?” I ask. There were so many when I was here last time.

“Not arrived yet. You are still four years before you’re here.” He rattles his head. “Your traveling confuses me.”

“Me, too. Let’s train.”

He gestures toward my book. “What colors today?”

“Depends. Have any locks?”

“At the armory.” He tips his head. “Unless your plan is to blow something up.”

“Not yet. First green.”

He curls me against his body and leads us across the training field and past his house and open paddocks until we reach a squatty building. Wide doors sit at each end. I lean over and examine the lock. “How do these work?”

He grabs a long stick from the top of the door and holds it toward me. “You don’t have locks?”

“Yeah, but they’re different. Metal with a tiny hole for a key.”

He jabs the stick toward my hand. “This is a key.”

I take it and turn it over. The end is angled and I suppose it looks kind of like a regular key with the wooden dowels sticking up at the end. “Show me how it works?”

He inserts the angled end into a slot in the door and lifts, releasing an unmistakable
click
. I try it and can feel the tumblers shift when I raise the stick in the keyhole. The next three tries warrant the same response.

“Okay, let’s try this.” I hand him the key and take a step back.
 

He wraps his fingers around my wrist, holding me still. “How do you know you’re not going to lock me out of the armory?”

I scowl at the door. “I’m not sure I do.”

He crosses his arms and taps the key against his elbow. “Start small.”
 

Focusing on the lock, I rub my fingers together. “The book says green is always small.”

“What else?”

“When it’s opaque it lasts longer and is harder to break.”

“For all colors.”

“I think so.”

“Interesting.”

A dark emerald glow illuminates my fingertips. No matter how wide I stretch my fingers, the lightning stays attached to my index finger and thumb, and never gets any bigger. I extend my arm and touch the lock. The green mass flows inside, filling the hole completely. When I take my hand away, the lightning detaches.

“Now what?”

I shrug and squint my eyes in study. “Try the key.”

He braces his feet and extends the key toward the lock, but the moment it nears the lock, it bends away like the tip is attached to a string at the top of the door. No matter which direction he tries, the lightning forces the key away. In a final attempt, he stabs the lock hard enough to send the key flying over his head.