Shadow Boxer: NA Fantasy/Time Travel (Tesla Time Travelers Book 2) (26 page)

“Nikola!” I shout. “Are you okay?”

He knees me in the stomach in his attempt to get up, and I hold his arm until he’s stable. Groaning, he holds a hand against his bloody temple.

I scramble upright and lay a hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

Wobbling unsteadily, he closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. “I think so.”

With shaking fingers, I make him sit and press the hem of my shirt against his forehead. I can’t step away from him. “You’d have hit the desk… ”

“Most likely knocking myself out.”

Or worse.

He straightens and presses the side of his head. The bleeding has slowed, but his eyes are dilated and he’s a queasy shade of green. “Evy… I—”

“I know.” Oh wow, do I know.
 

I hug him to me and I can’t keep my hands steady. He squirms, but then pats my head.

“Sorry, I know you don’t—” I step away, but his fingers linger, cupping the back of my skull.

We finally shake off the effects of his near-death episode, and he lifts his face to the attic opening. “There’s another ladder.”

I hold up a hand. “Sit. I’ll get it. Keep that against your head. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

He staggers around the desk, falling into the chair.

In the next room, I fill a coffee cup halfway. I could puke right now, and I fight back the nausea threatening to cripple me. I splash water on my face and twist off the water.

I shudder and hand the cup to Nikola. “Okay?”

He sips the water. “In a moment.”

The green pallor subsides and he doesn’t look like he’s going to pass out anymore. He sighs and settles deeper into the chair. My own unease quiets, but not completely. If the alteration were done, I wouldn’t still be here.

“I’m fine,” he whispers.

I hesitate, then search for a ladder and find one in a corner near the main entrance. I pause and try the door, uncomfortable when it opens freely to the empty courtyard. Surely, he doesn’t always leave it unlocked, but I wouldn’t put it past him either. Already feeling unsteady, this doesn’t help, and I flip the lock then hurry back to the office.

After I move the broken one, I prop the new one in the same spot and take a big breath.

Nikola leans forward in his chair. “Do you want me—”

“No.” I wrap my fingers around the sides and climb up.
 

I make it to the top without incident and push aside the trap door. I ascend a few more rungs until my head and shoulders are in the darkened space. There’s not much up here, a few boxes, buckets of paint, a coil of rope. Pushing myself over the lip, I balance on a board crossing the space. The pitch of the roof doesn’t leave me any room to stand, so I crouch and ease my way farther down the attic. I should have made him describe the container. I call down to him. “What am I looking for?”

He clears his throat and his chair squeaks.

“Nikola?” I scramble back to the opening and peek over the edge, praying I won’t see him slumped over at his desk. He’s drinking the water, one finger raised for my patience. I exhale. I’m going to be a wreck now until he really does die. A dark cloud passes over my thoughts. Unless I’m done and won’t get to see him again after I have these papers. I bite my lip and grasp at a way to trust the alteration, but it slips through like water.

“On the left side, there are two trunks. You’ll have to lower them on the far side, through the other access door.”

I scan the small attic and see what he’s talking about. There’s a door that opens into the lab, just big enough to fit the trunks.

“I have an idea.” I climb down the ladder and wipe my hands on my pants. “Instead of manually moving them, when I’m ready to leave, I think I can arc them.”

“Are you certain?”

There’s no guarantee the yellow lightning will work like I want it to. “No, but it’s worth a shot.”

He moans.

“First, let’s get you home.” I round the desk.

“Here, let me,” a voice calls from the door.

C
HAPTER
28

A
WELL
-
DRESSED
man stands just beyond the threshold of the office. Thinning gray hair rims a shiny head. Beneath a bulbous nose, his bushy mustache conceals his lips, but the pleasant voice is accompanied by tight skin around his eyes and a crease in his forehead. Mixing his short, wide stature with the huge mustache gives him all the appeal a walrus.
 

“J.P.,” Nikola says, leaping from the chair. I steady him and help him around the desk.

My back tightens. This is the illustrious J.P. Morgan, financier extraordinaire? Everything about him sets my hackles rising, and it takes all the self-control I have to keep my lightning from flaring. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have cared for him, simply because of how he strings Nikola along, but today of all days, my belly roils with whatever energy he’s putting out. He steps into the office, consuming the remaining space, looks me up and down, and, clearly finding me lacking, turns toward Nikola. “My car’s right outside. Always a pleasure to aid you.”

I’m not buying it and my grip tightens on Nikola’s arm. “I don’t think—”

“Very kind,” Nikola says, his voice warbling like a songbird’s. “I knew you’d come.”

J.P. wrestles my fingers off Nikola’s elbow and uses his girth to squeeze me against the wall. I wriggle around him and fill the doorway. “You’re not—”

Down the hall, George skids around the corner, tails of his jacket flying, hand on his tall hat to keep it in place. He looks like he’s come straight from a wedding. “Nikola!” he roars.

I jump to the far side of the hallway and let George by. He stops inside the door and bends over, heaving for breath. J.P.’s look darkens. “Get… your hands… off… him,” George says, growling and steaming like an overheated engine.

My eyebrows fly up. George’s reaction to J.P. amplifies mine. He’s the quintessential “nice guy” and I figured he was the kind of guy who never ruffled feathers. My attention rivets on J.P. and I ready myself for whatever he had planned for this evening’s visit. I figured I was just overreacting because I already knew Nikola died today, but now I’m wary with a warrior-like precision. I watch the trio, noting every bit of body language and turning every detail carefully.

J.P. tightens his hold for a brief moment before releasing Nikola’s arm. “No need to get testy, Georgey. I was only doing the Miss a favor and helping Nikola to his room. Seems she thumped him on the head.”

What?!
I leap forward and try to shove past George to get at this fat, lying bastard. “You two-faced—”

George darts back and forth in the doorway, blocking my attempts. “Calm down,” he says over his shoulder.

I take a step back, but the lightning is nearly burning my palms it wants at him so bad. I’ve seen more than enough of J.P.

“I believe Mr. Morgan was just leaving,” George says, freeing the doorway and stepping to Nikola, putting himself between J.P. and our injured friend while he eases him onto my chair. Nikola’s already pale face is gaunt and he’s trembling. I want to help and the best way is by getting rid of our unwanted guest. Nikola’s unbalanced gaze darts unevenly between George and J.P., like he’s unsure why we’re treating the money man with such open hostility. Nikola will never see him for the monster he is. I see nothing but.

With a bow, I step aside and extend my arms, not bothering to hide my bared teeth.

J.P. waddles past and snarls, “Bitch.”

“You betcha.” I rise and step up into him, my full warrior on display. “Stay the fuck away from Nikola.”

I follow him to the doors and watch his car pull away. After he’s gone I examine the lock, noting the scrapes along the top and sides of the keyhole like it’s been picked. When I lock it this time, I circle it with a ring of purple lightning and fill the keyhole with a solid green.

Satisfied that will buy us enough time to get Nikola to a doctor and then home safe, I race back to the office where George is kneeling in front the chair. Nikola looks like he’s about to puke.

“George, you’ve got to get him to a hospital. He most likely has a concussion.”

George rises and pats Nikola’s knee. Tonight, it seems, we’re all disregarding Nikola’s germ issues. When he turns, he motions toward the door, concern on his face. I follow him into the hallway.

George rubs his face and situates his top hat. “Evy… I… If you hadn’t…”

“Yeah, Nikola and I went through that already. What’s the deal with J.P.?” I inwardly cringe that I just told Nikola’s main investor to go fuck himself, but I can’t shake the feeling that the fat little douche didn’t come there tonight with good intentions—least of all a check. Especially knowing what I know about tonight’s events. Was J.P. always part of Nikola’s death? An image of Nikola, lying unconscious on the floor, rises up in my mind and I think of the tilt of J.P.’s jaw tonight. He seems like the kind of guy who lets nothing stand in his way, and finding a scientist who keeps asking for money and who won’t just go away… Well, nothing a swift kick to the head wouldn’t solve.

George sighs and glances over his shoulder to check on Nikola and back to me. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m pretty smart.”

He rubs the corner of his eye. “My fiancée and I attended a soiree tonight, and I overheard things. Things”—he glances at Nikola again, as if afraid he’ll vanish—“that made me worry. I knew Nikola was here alone tonight.”

I rub the back of my neck. He would have been, too…
 

“What happened?” George asks. “Before I arrived?”

“Nikola fell off a ladder and landed on me. I think I broke his fall.”

He yanks me into a tight embrace, squishing my arms at my sides. After an awkward moment, he sniffs and sets me away. “Nikola is a pain. He’s eccentric. He’s horrible at business. But he’s a genius… My genius.”

Finally, the toll of what could have happened tonight overcomes him, and George slides down the wall, legs bent, forearms flopping over his knees. I crouch and pat his shoulder. “It’s okay, George. He’s safe. But you need to get help.”

George clears his throat. “You’re right.”

I stand and pull him upright. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

His mouth pulls tight. He takes a step toward the office and pauses. “Are you coming back?”

I shrug and study George’s face. He loves this man and would do anything for him. Banking on that, I take a risk. “He gave me his patents today, the ones in the attic.”

George blows out a huge breath. “Thank goodness. I’ve been asking him to do that for years.”

“So you’re okay with it?”

“I was before tonight, but now even more so.”

My smile wavers. “I’ll try to come back.”

He squeezes my arm and crosses to Nikola, who leans forward to be helped off the chair. George slides an arm around him, and they slowly move to the back entrance. I follow and wonder what made George choose to come in that way. After they leave, I lock the back door the same way I did the front one.
 

I hesitate before ringing the lock with the purple strand I used up front. Do I dare? If I keep it transparent, it’s enough to kill a man.
 

But only for another hour.
 

I lift my hand and play a strand of purple from my fingertips and settle on another green strand to seize the entire lock. George won’t be back tonight, but I can’t be certain J.P. won’t.

Trembling, I head back to the office and climb the ladder. When I reach the trunks, I stand and balance on the trusses and extend two long strands of the yellow lightning. Like molten steel, they flow downward in a thick syrup, showing far more restraint than I feel. The yellow flows over the top of the trunks and pools beneath them, staining every crevice and crack. Covering them takes a couple tries, but finally I have what looks like a pretty supportive sling around them.

“Here goes.” I flare another stream of white lightning bright enough to catapult us all home, and my heart lurches at the possibility of never returning. Then I remember the one in the hotel safe. Surely it’s important enough to bring me back.

I arrive in a plain-looking yet familiar bedroom, trunks at my feet. I glare at the plain white walls then wonder if I could possibly be in my own spare bedroom on the third floor. I peek out the door just to be sure, and confirm it by the clothes scattered on the floor of my master bedroom next door. The trunks landed partially inside the closet, so I spin them and settle them beside each other. I wiggle the clasps and finally get the first one open with a loud screech. The top bangs into the back wall and nearly comes back down on my hand. I lift it, lean it gently against the wall, and peer inside. Papers fill the trunk nearly to the brim, and with no discernible order. The mess looks like Tesla grabbed desk drawers and emptied them one after another. He must have been in a fierce hurry to override his OCD.

I ruffle the papers and find notebooks poking up at odd angles beneath, and more papers. Illustrations and measurements and notes cover nearly every page. I rock back on my heels. Thousands of notes. Penya better know what to do with them… if she ever manages to stick around for more than half a minute.

I close the lid and slide the closet door shut then ponder the unlockability of my lame hiding place. I push the door open and lock both trucks with the green lightning that’s becoming a standard for this alteration. Then, I study the room’s door and its worthless button lock. I’m worried about Ilif coming while I’m not here. Granted, he’s only been here once that I know of. If he wants these, there’s going to be no way to keep him out of this room. Unless…
 

I hold up my hands.

Unless I’m willing to booby trap my own house.
 

Seems right up my alley.

I back toward the door, drip green around the button and set it, then pull the door all the way but a crack my arm barely fits through. Using the reflection off the window to guide my movements, I open my hand wide and throw a single handful of red lightning into the room, then yank my hand out and yank the door shut but a tiny crack.