Storm Front: NA Fantasy/Time Travel (Tesla Time Travelers Book 3)

by Jen Greyson

  There’s so much I want to say. So many things I want to tell him about who we’ve become to each other, how much I love him—how much I will always love him.

  “I fear we have little time left. I fear once you and your sorceress have your battle… it will be the last I see of you. That thought pains me a great deal.”

  I stroke his face, push a chunk of hair out of his eyes. Tears spring to mine. Pain and lightning mingle in every cell of my body but I cannot stop touching him. “It's the same for me. Being with you is my greatest joy.” My throat constricts and I can’t say more.

  He kisses the inside of my hand again, then curls it, trapping the kiss inside and setting it gently on the bed. “Rest.” He sighs heavily. “Rest.”

  He stands, and kisses my temple, lingering there for several heartbeats, his warm breath stirring my hair.

  My eyes flutter closed and my will to stay awake succumbs to my lightning’s need to heal me.

  Sleep comes in fitful stretches as the pain wakes me and my lightning knocks me back out. Finally, I wake feeling better, and groggily look around the room. Constantine's chair sits in the corner, empty, and sunlight filters through the room like it's early afternoon.

  I rotate my shoulder slowly, tensed and prepared for the spike of torture as my nerves wake, but it's lessened this morning, like the lightning had a chance to repair my body as best it could without arcing. I ease upright, careful, to move as little as possible. No angry slashes of pain cross my body though the lightning inside still knits me together, repairing muscle fiber, tendons, and nerves.

  I'm sore but will last a few days at most. I’ll take it. It’s far better than if I had to rely on his ancient medicine. Other than the chair, table, and bed, there’s nothing in the room save a few linen scraps. My T-shirt is gone, cut away by whoever stitched me up last night. I glimpse at the bed and run my hand across the sheet. It's not exactly fighting apparel, but it will work to go find Constantine, or to at least make it back to his place.

  I ease upright, taking the sheet with me. The blood rushes to my head and I have to grab the wall to steady myself. I’m under control after a couple breaths and the pain hasn’t spiked at all. I risk a glance at my back and twist to check it out, but it’s still bandaged. There’s no seepage, making me eager to see how skilled my lighting was at surgery.

  But not yet. First I want to find Constantine. I wrap the long cloth over my good shoulder, cradling my injured arm against my ribs. Tying a knot one-handed is out of the question, so I settle for tucking the end beside my left breast and pinning my arms to my side to keep it from coming unraveled. The linen is scratchy against my skin, but it’s better than running out there naked.

  The cold floor is brisk against my feet, but I don't care and hurry out to the training field, eager to find him and his men.

  He and Janus are alone on the training field. I pause to catch my breath, overexerted from the short walk. My shoulder is sore but apparently when my lightning has to heal my body this way instead of in an arc, it takes a serious toll on the rest of me. I lean against the building at the edge of the training ground and watch them spar.

  Both men are bare to their waists, wearing nothing more than their short training skirts. Janus is not a small man, but beside Constantine he looks like a teenager. Their bodies glisten in the afternoon sun, muscles sweaty and pumped from the exercise. Constantine lifts his sword over his head and attacks. Janus parries, making their swords clash in a loud ring echoes across the nearby buildings.

  He's angry today, attacking with a fierceness he usually reserves for the battlefield. Angry at what, I wonder? I could certainly blow off some steam and if he's been thinking about the same things I have, then it's a pressurized mixture of my leaving, Penya’s arrival, and the losses we took last night. If our future alteration still stands, then Viriato's attack is all boiling over now, on the field. They work each other hard, swords clashing, bodies pushing against each other, all punctuated in grunts and yells.

  Beneath the raw fighting, there's also a poetry to their motion, a beauty in both their footwork and their swordplay. The sharp noises blend and I’m mesmerized by the movement of his body, the roundness of his muscles as they flex, the warmth of the sun, and the tickle of the grass beneath my feet. This is a stolen moment and one only afforded me because of my injury, but I take full advantage of watching him as long as I can, hoping he won't notice me until they're done.

  Janus stumbles and Constantine steps back, lifting his sword into the air and spinning hard to the right.

  “Apologies,” Janus says, getting his feet under himself. “Go again.”

  “No.” Constantine holds up his hand. “It's no use. My brain is thick with thoughts. I had hoped sparring with you would exorcise them.” He claps Janus on the shoulder. “Good fighting today.”

  “And last night.”

  Constantine sighs. “Yes. Last night could have been far, far worse.”

  Janus glances over at me and drops to a knee in supplication. I laugh and shake my head, then walk over to meet them. “Get up,” I say softly, drawing out the words. He rises and I grab his hand. “None of that, Janus. None of that. We all fought bravely.”

  “How's your shoulder?”

  “What are you doing out of bed?”

  The men ask at the same time and I answer Janus's questions first. “I’m feeling better, thank you.”

  “I could use some clothes,” I tease them both.

  Janus inclines his head. “I will see to it.”

  “Thank you.” I smile sweetly, then turn to Constantine as Janus leaves. “I woke alone and came to find you.”

  He steps closer and I inhale the scent of him, musky and all man. “You should be in bed.”

  “I’m feeling much better, thank you for asking. Where are the rest of your men?”

  “Away. Into town for a day of rest.” He scowls, a deep line forming between his brows. “How are you upright? That wound would have kept most men abed for weeks.”

  I turn and give him my back. “It healed well last night.”

  “Let me see.” He steps closer and his breath warms my skin. I bite my lip, only mildly embarrassed I’m standing out on the field in nothing more than a sheet and he’s about to touch me. This has looked so different in the past, but I’m not about to tell him no. His fingers graze my shoulders and he removes my bandage.

  “That’s not possible,” he whispers.

  I crane my neck to get a peek, but he pushes on my cheek and makes me face forward. I turn enough to watch him rub his temple. “You were badly injured.” He scowls. “I don’t…”

  I turn and press close. “Goddess, remember?”

  “Difficult to forget.” He brushes my hair off my forehead.

  “My lightning did it while I slept.”

  He frowns, not as happy about as I though he’d be. “Had I known, I would have worried less.”

  My fingers curl into his waistband out of habit. His eyebrows lift, but I forge ahead and don’t pull them back. “You were worried? About me?”

  “Yes,” he says with finality, like the discussion’s closed.

  “Why?”

  He stiffens and looks away. The motion pulls his clothes tight, binding my fingers. Neither one of us points out the fact I could wiggle them and graze something important. I didn’t mean to do it, but I wanted to comfort him… I want to when he’s stressed like this. Touching him is as natural to me as breathing.

  “I care about you.” He looks down at me and slides his hands slowly along my neck, letting his fingertips come to rest against my spine. “You’ve come to mean a great deal to me in your short time here. I don’t want anything to happen.”

  “And you blame yourself for last night, don’t you?” I should have known… He’s always so quick to blame himself when things go wrong. He protects the ones he loves, always has. It was his guilt fueling his anger on the field, not his disappointment about me leaving—but he failed to save me�
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  I hurry to soothe him. “I tend to be reckless in my actions. There was nothing you could have done to prevent my injury.” I tug my hands free and hold them in the air, unsure where to put them. He solves my dilemma and presses them against his heart. It beats strong beneath my fingertips… like always. I bite my lip and force my eyes not to swoon closed. My breathing quickens. This is a bad, bad idea. “I’m almost healed, so don’t beat yourself up over it.”

  His intense gaze roams my face, heating my skin. I shouldn’t be standing so close to him naked, let alone touching him. I keep thinking Janus is going to show up any second with my clothes and I only have seconds left in this sacred, stolen space. He rubs my lower lip with his thumb. “Would you stay? If our circumstances permitted it?”

  I smile. “But they don’t, so answering doesn’t help us, does it?”

  “Tell me,” he whispers.

  “I would.” My fingers tense. “Every night.” I brush my thumb lazily across his skin. “But I’m going to have to leave soon.”

  “I broke my engagement.”

  “What!” I step away, dropping my hands. “Why? What the hell were you thinking?” I’m shocked and can barely catch my breath.

  He scowls and crosses his arms. “You treat it the same as marriage, and I don’t want it between us while you’re here.”

  Wow. Just… Wow. I run a hand through my hair, making the sheet slip. I yank it back up and secure it tighter. My heart is pounding and I’m wrestling with what he’s admitted. “When?”

  “Last night after I left you. I sent a messenger.” He frowns and spreads his feet, taking a sullen posture. “I thought this would please you.”

  “No. I mean, yeah… kind of. But you have to marry her.” I shake my head and pace, struggling with how to undo this. I’ve seriously gone and fucked up history-slash-our future now. We didn’t have sex and it still screwed things up. “The future depends on your daughter—” My breath catches at the mere thought of him having a daughter with someone else, but about Camaria and Nikola and how critical she is to giving his work the breath and attention it deserves. “Your daughter is so, so vital. Her offspring becomes one of the most important scientists in history—the future.” I move away. I didn’t expect him to go to to extremes like so we could hook up. He’s such a man sometimes.

  He huffs. “Thank you would have sufficed.”

  I sigh and return to him, but I don’t touch him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” I wet my lips. “Don’t think I don’t want to let you haul me back to your place and…” I stop because I already don’t have any willpower, there’s no point in egging him on. I curl my hands into fists, really wishing I was fully dressed. His frown is dark and I’m not sure how to put us back to rights. “It was a wonderful gesture.” I swallow. “Thank you.”

  He grunts.

  I take a step closer and lay my fingers on his crossed forearms. “There is a future for us—”

  He arches an eyebrow, disbelieving.

  “I won’t tell you more, but you and I get to be together… Just not yet.”

  “Isn’t… This… Sweet.”

  I gasp and spin at Penya’s voice. She stands less than ten feet away, arms on her hips, a smug smile on a face I trusted. A face I now despise.

  My fingers dig into Constantine’s arm. I can’t exactly tell him this is the person, but he’s a smart man.

  I take a step toward her, lightning crackling to life in my palms.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” she warns, wagging a finger.

  I douse the lightning. This is so not how I planned to ambush her. Once again, she’s one step ahead. “Where’s Tiana?”

  She cackles. “You think me stupid, then?” She shakes her head and looks over Constantine then back to me. “You always were weak where he was concerned. Not Tiana. She’s a bright girl. Under proper tutelage, she’ll be brilliant. None of what happened here will matter compared to what I have planned for your sister.”

  I’m shaking with the need to throttle her, but I have to find out where she has Tiana. I’m close enough to swing a green strand and handcuff her here, but I’m terrified to make any movement. Besides, I have no idea what she’s capable of anymore. A wrong move out of me and she’ll vanish.

  We’ve already blown most of the element of surprise, but I do think she wasn’t expecting to see me here yet.

  To my left, the air shimmers and before I have time to react, Ilif arrives, his head bowed and manipulating numbers on an electronic clipboard. “Evy, I—” He looks up to greet me, and his face contorts into rage as he sees Penya. He lunges.

  “Ilif, no!” I grab for him, but trip on the long tail of the sheet.

  Constantine leaps into action and yanks Ilif’s arm, nearly pulling it out of the socket. Ilif kicks Constantine in the shin and twists away. The men wrestle, Ilif throwing more punches than I’d have thought possible. One catches Constantine in the nose and he punches Ilif in the gut, instantly stealing his air and doubling him over. Ilif bites and thrashes, his fury for Penya fueling him. I’m impressed Constantine takes most of Ilif’s fury when he could have knocked him out in the first strike. Ilif is no match, but Constantine will bear marks from the fight.

  I keep an eye on Penya, ready to throw my entire arsenal at her to keep her from getting away. She’s busy watching Ilif flail, smiling like this display is making her day.

  Finally Constantine wraps his arm around Ilif’s neck and pulls him into a headlock at his side. “Stay still, you idiot.”

  We’re all breathing heavy and the air is vibrating with the hair-trigger energy. Constantine cinches his arm tighter. Ilif’s ass is in the air and he’s punching Constantine’s leg while his captor ignores him. He nods at me. “Continue.”

  I blink, then gather my thoughts. Holy shit this got out of control fast. I inhale and turn to Penya. Her jovial countenance and laughter at our come-apart extinguishes my patience and I’m instantly drenched in the matter at hand. “Answer the goddamn question,” I spit the words at Penya. The fury at my own foolishness in trusting her pumps through my body as much as my anger at her treatment of Tiana.

  “Your sister is fine.”

  “That’s not what I asked you.” I fist my hands and lean forward. “Where… Is… She?”

  “On her way.”

  That’s not what I expected. “Where? Here? Home? London?” I’m suddenly frantic. Fractures of lightning erupt from my hands.

  She laughs. “You expect me to tell you?”

  I’m trembling with the need to punch her, strangle her, torture her until she tells me what I want. Then once Tiana’s safe I might do it again for the pleasure. I turn inward, seeking my source. I block out everything, including Penya so I can figure out what to do next.

  Tiny strands of lightning flicker at my fingertips, but I curl them into my palms. Colors blend into each other and the smell of sea and earth and oiled leather subsides. I am clear and focused. My emotions dull along with everything else. I inhale and hold my breath. Everyone is waiting on my next move and I have to pick the right one. Ilif and Penya are here together for a reason and I have to let play out. We’ve interfered too much already. I turn to Constantine and touch his arm. “Let him go.”

  He does and Ilif straightens, out of breath and suitably mussed. I put a restraining hand on his shoulder and speak softly, “Remember, she still has Tiana and this is the only chance we have to stop her. If you fly off the handle we’ve all lost.”

  “I will restrain myself.”

  “I hope so.” I nod to him and draw Constantine back a few feet so Ilif and Penya can handle their business. We’re still close enough to intercept them if shit lets loose again.

  Penya throws Ilif a small, solid cube like she was perfectly prepared for this moment. “Recognize that?”

  Ilif catches it and lifts it, examining the one-inch metallic box, then frowns and shakes his head. “I do not.”

  “It’s the detonator I used to set off the
fire night in the lab. They’re created in pairs and activated via fingerprint signature.” She holds up a matching one. “We’re paired now and they must stay together. When I leave here without you…” She pantomimes an explosion with her hands, spreading them wide.

  “Don’t,” Ilif begs, offering her the cube. “Not again.”

  Her face contorts in rage. “You’ve done this to yourself. You deserve to lose your lightning riders. I’ve rigged the lab to blow in concentric circles, starting with your computers.”

  Ilif clenches his jaw. “You would have me lose my ability to track the riders, to train new ones, simply so you may seek your revenge? You would sacrifice all the good I’ve done, all the advancements we’ve accomplished… All of it, to hurt me?”

  “Yes.” There’s a satisfying sigh in the way she says it and a chill races up my spine.

  Ilif’s jaw clenches and he pockets the cube, then wipes a smudge from the end of his tie. I’m not sure if he’s buying time or preparing to launch himself and claw her eyes out.

  We’ve had our differences, but I cannot stand by while she tortures him, nor will I allow her to screw up what’s become my own life’s work—and by extension, Nikola’s. If she blows the lab, it won’t keep any of us from arcing, but Ilif has the books in the lab and he’s put a ton of work into helping me. I owe him the same.

  I slide my hands behind my back and make a tiny purple ball, ready for whatever they’re about to do.

  “I’ll dog you to the ends of time, then,” Ilif says, picking up his head with a renewed fire. “Your detonator will never leave mine… until the day I cut off your hand and keep the fingerprint on the cube until I can diffuse the bomb.”

  Whoa. Apparently he’s tucked his crazy until he needed it. His hatred for her is beyond intense. And I don’t doubt his words for a second.

  Her lips pull wide in the grin of a woman who knows her enemy better than he knows himself. She opens her hand and scatters a shimmering web of light. “Not if you tread on this residue.”

  I blink, shocked. My lightning snuffs. Holy shit, she’s been busy… and might have been the brains behind this team. I don’t want to know how she’s created residue without arcing. The woman is a genius. Full-bore, straight-crazy genius. Now if Ilif comes at her, he’ll move through the residue, flinging himself into another time. She’s probably handcrafted them so they’re portals to evil, horrible places.