The Tesla Legacy

by K. K. Perez

  Their bodies slammed together as they landed between the railway tracks, wildflowers cushioning their fall. Jess’s gun skittered a few feet away.

  Terrified New Yorkers ran past them, nearly trampling Jess and Lucy as they fled for their lives; others dropped to the ground, scattering amidst the shrubbery, and pressing their bellies into the dirt.

  “Jess!” Claudia shouted, charging straight for them. Ravi grabbed her around the waist, still holding his gun. She struggled in his arms but he held firm.

  “You’re going to get Claudia killed!” Lucy roared as she and Jess began to tussle. “If you really love her, you shouldn’t have put her in danger!”

  “I’m not the danger. Your boyfriend is!”

  Jess threw a livid glare at Ravi, who stood with his gun pointed at their entwined form. Another man in black had Claudia in his grip.

  “Just stop, Jess! Ravi said you could go, so go!”

  “I owe it to Jeremy to find out the truth. I had to try.” She released a harsh breath. Sadness, guilt, and fury crashed over Lucy. “I’d die for the truth,” Jess said between gritted teeth. From the desperation inundating Lucy, it was clear that the other girl really didn’t expect to live through this.

  Lucy struggled to breathe against the weight of her frequency. “You don’t get to make that choice for the rest of us,” she wheezed.

  “No shot,” Ravi said tersely into his coms. “I repeat, no shot.”

  “You’re safe, don’t worry,” Jess told her. “You’re too valuable. For now.” She flipped Lucy onto her back, pinning her to the tracks. Jess was slight, but strong. Where Lucy’s arms and legs connected with the metal, green flames erupted.

  Using all her of strength, Lucy managed to wrest one arm free and her fist connected with Jess’s jaw. Another streetlight went dark. Lucy had never punched anyone before. Her hand smarted.

  “Don’t make the same mistake I did,” Jess warned. “If you care about Claudia, stay away from her.” Then she returned the punch.

  Lucy’s head snapped back against the ground as Jess scrambled for the gun.

  She had to stop her. Lucy reached out and a thin tentacle of white light streamed from her hand to the darkened streetlamp. Holy … That was new. She didn’t have time to think about it.

  High on adrenaline, Lucy wriggled across the tracks toward Jess as St. Elmo’s fire licked her knees, surged across her torso and down her arms.

  Jess got to the gun first. Seizing hold, she jumped to her feet.

  She aimed for Ravi’s head. “Would you die for the professor?”

  “No!” Lucy howled and grasped Jess’s ankle, trying to throw her off balance.

  Jess’s entire body spasmed the moment she made contact.

  Her arms flailed and the gun clattered onto the steel slats.

  Lucy ripped her hand away, but the other girl crashed against the tracks, unconscious. OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod. Her limbs continued to twitch like a puppet on a string.

  What had Lucy done?

  The smell of burning filled her nose. Lucy recoiled in horror.

  The flesh of Jess’s right ankle and shin was burned. Burned! She stared down at her hands. They were covered with blood—Claudia’s blood—and white sparks zipping from her fingertips to the metal bolts of the tracks.

  Lucy gagged on her own bile.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy spied Mikhail racing toward them. The Freelancers hadn’t left, after all. What if they tried to take Claudia again in retribution?

  Jess continued to convulse.

  Ravi was suddenly squatting at Lucy’s side. “Lucinda, we need to move.”

  “Jess?” she croaked.

  He lowered his face closer to the other girl’s. “She’s still breathing.” Ravi turned back to Lucy. “You’re bleeding. Again.”

  Lucy hadn’t noticed the blood gushing from her nostrils. Nor was she worried about herself.

  “Claudia?” She searched out her eyes, and then she wished she hadn’t. If Lucy thought Cole had regarded her like a monster at the prom, it was nothing compared with what she saw now.

  Her best friend’s features were twisted in terror—and for good reason.

  “Jess,” she cried out, covering her face with her hands.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Ravi told Lucy. He tugged on Lucy’s arm and she skidded backward on the ground, out of reach.

  “Don’t. I’m not safe to touch.”

  “I’m not scared.”

  “You should be.”

  Lucy pushed to her feet without his help but she tottered, knees weak. Lightheadedness deluged her and she saw the Flower of Life, hovering above her. She watched as the petals became six bright emerald flames. A flower of flame. The flames were life. Energy, neither created nor destroyed. Lucy recognized the signs and she prepared for a fall.

  “Get away!” Lucy warned as Ravi tried to catch her.

  The entire length of the High Line burst into green flames.

  Then everything went black, and she welcomed the darkness.

  BLACK HOLE

  Lucy’s eyelids blinked open, her mouth as dry as cotton balls. The first rays of dawn wended across the wall. She was in bed. But she wasn’t in her bed.

  Lucy bolted upright, then rubbed her forehead with a groan. Her head throbbed and all of her muscles were sore.

  “Morning.” She glanced toward the voice. “Or almost morning,” Ravi said. He sat at the counter in the kitchenette, his shoulders tense. The stillness was fraught with unasked questions.

  Lucy was in Ravi’s bed. And it was morning. Her parents were going to kill her. She’d never even broken curfew let alone stayed out all night.

  Her gaze dropped to her hands, one of which was bandaged, and the horror that was prom night came rushing back.

  “Claudia?” she forced out.

  “Safe. Home,” Ravi reassured her quickly. He rose from his stool and walked toward the bed. “You’ve been out for the count. I hope you don’t mind that I brought you here.” His tone was stiff but his dark eyes teemed with worry.

  “No, no—” Lucy started. She couldn’t imagine what her parents would have thought if she’d been deposited unconscious on their doorstep. “Thanks for looking after me.”

  “Of course.” He stopped at the foot of the bed.

  Lucy rubbed her thumb back and forth along the bandage. Ravi had washed her hands and face, but she was still wearing the black turtleneck and leggings the Freelancers had provided. Blood was crusted into the ridges of the turtleneck. She began to itch all over. She was dirty, she felt so dirty—what had she done to Jess? Lucy’s breath hitched as she choked back a sob.

  “Lucy?” Ravi said softly.

  “I-I need to take a shower.”

  He nodded, pointing toward a door in the corner. “The towels are all clean.”

  “Thanks.” She didn’t meet his eyes. Her bones creaked as she got up and padded toward the bathroom. Pulling on a cord to turn on the light, she shut the door behind her.

  “The hot water takes a few minutes,” Ravi called from the other side. “Let it run.”

  Lucy didn’t answer, but she followed his advice. The shower knob squeaked. She peeled off her turtleneck first and peered down the length of her body. Her bra was bloodstained. Lucy’s chest constricted as she recalled the look Claudia had given her on the High Line. Steam obscured her reflection as she examined it in the mirror—Jess had given her quite the shiner—and the running water drowned out the sound of her tears.

  Shucking off her leggings, a scrap of paper drifted to the floor. LIBERTAS. Lucy crumpled the word in her fist, shaking her head as she dragged herself into the shower. The chat room log-in imprinted on her memory as she watched the paper disintegrate. If only hot water could wash away what Lucy had done so easily—what she was.

  She’d lied to her best friend for months, gotten her kidnapped, and then electrocuted her first love right in front of her eyes. The fact that Jess was still alive was only small
comfort. Lucy had lost control and she didn’t know what the long-term effects of that much voltage would be. She was basically living one of those epic poems her mother liked to translate so much. They never ended happily.

  Lucy choked on another laugh-sob. Blood swirled around the drain.

  After a few minutes staring at nothing, she shut off the water. She still didn’t feel clean. Not even close.

  Ravi rapped once on the door as she wrapped herself in a towel.

  “Fresh clothes?” he asked.

  Lucy opened the door a crack. Yesterday, having Ravi see her dressed only in a towel would have made her blush from head to toe. Today, all she felt was numb.

  “T-shirt and sweatpants.” He tested out a smile as he held them out, but Lucy couldn’t muster one in return.

  “Thanks.” She accepted the offering and closed the door on his furrowed brow.

  Both the T-shirt and sweatpants were emblazoned with the I ♥ NY logo, like something you’d buy at an airport souvenir shop. Which Ravi probably had. The irony pinched Lucy’s gut. She wished she’d listened to her parents and never ventured into the Bad Apple.

  She attempted detangling her wet curls with Ravi’s flimsy comb for about twenty seconds before giving up. Exhaling a long breath, she scooped up the turtleneck and leggings from the floor.

  Water dripped down the back of her T-shirt as she entered the main room.

  Back at the counter, Ravi looked up with an electric kettle in his hand.

  “Tea?” he said, pouring boiling water into two mugs. “It makes everything better. At least if you’re British.”

  There wasn’t enough tea on the planet to make Lucy feel better.

  “Trash can?” she asked.

  “Here.” He stepped on a pedal and a can opened next to the counter. Lucy tossed in the bloody clothes. She never wanted to see them again.

  Ravi slid a mug across the countertop toward Lucy as she slumped onto a stool. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “How do you think I’m feeling?”

  He raised his mug to his lips. “What about physically?” he said as he swallowed.

  Lucy curved her hands around the mug, glowering at the light-brown water. The now-soggy bandage on her hand dripped onto the tile.

  “Let me change that for you,” Ravi offered.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “I’m sorry you were hurt,” he said, a new hardness to his voice. “It’s my fault.”

  A small, stunned laugh distorted at the back of Lucy’s throat.

  “I’m not the one who nearly died. Or was kidnapped. I’m fine.”

  Ravi narrowed his eyes. “Fine might be an overstatement.” He opened a drawer with some force and pulled out a first-aid kit. Rounding the counter, he pulled his stool closer to Lucy’s and inspected the contents of the plastic box.

  “Hand,” he said. Lucy obliged, and Ravi carefully cut off the wet bandage.

  “I guess I’m Internet famous by now,” she said with a resigned sigh. “How many views do I have on YouTube?”

  “Why would you be on YouTube?” Ravi sounded genuinely perplexed.

  “Oh, I don’t know, the shootout and impromptu electrical storm at the High Line, maybe? I know New Yorkers have seen it all, but surely that qualifies as unusual? And the NYPD probably has some questions, I’m guessing.”

  Ravi unwound the gauze methodically. It shimmered in the strengthening sunlight.

  “You don’t have to worry about the authorities or anybody else connecting you to last night’s events,” he told her. Last night’s events. What a sanitized way to describe what had happened. What Lucy was capable of doing to another human being.

  “How is that possible?” she demanded.

  Ravi held her gaze as he tore open the antiseptic swab with his teeth. He brushed the alcohol swab across Lucy’s cut and she hissed softly.

  “How did you get this?” he asked in a low voice. He traced the line of the wound with his fingertip.

  Lucy ignored the way her body reacted to his touch.

  “Answer my question first,” she said.

  Ravi pulled the gauze taut between his hands. “Lucy, all traffic and security cameras in the vicinity of the High Line were remotely disabled as soon as you relayed your destination.” He wrapped the gauze around her palm as he talked. “There will be no proof you were ever there.”

  “But there were witnesses.”

  “There were panicked people, and eyewitnesses are notoriously unreliable. The news is already blaming faulty wiring and kids playing with fireworks for starting the stampede.”

  Lucy’s mouth fell open. Who were these people? Could it really be that easy to cover up? The lie certainly sounded more believable than the truth.

  “But what about smartphones?” she insisted.

  Ravi finished with the bandage. “The Initiates are thorough. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I bet.” Lucy couldn’t help but snort. “Like they were thorough with the Freelancers? They could have killed someone! Why did you bring your own SEAL Team Six?”

  “You saw what happened. The Freelancers are lawless. And the Sophists are fanatics.” Ravi scowled. “The Initiates were necessary. If anything—worse—had happened to you, Lucinda…” He touched her blackening eye, then trailed his thumb over the tiny hills of her knuckles, and tingles pervaded her.

  “Don’t do that,” Lucy rasped. She couldn’t think straight with his energy flowing through her, and she was still too drained to block it out herself. Yes, Lucy had strong feelings for him, and yes, his energy still felt like a summer’s day, but Ravi had shown her a different side of himself last night—a side she didn’t know what to do with yet.

  “Sorry. I thought I was shielding.” Hurt crossed his face. He dropped his hands and walked to the other side of the counter. “Now answer my question. How did you injure your hand?” His tone became brusque, businesslike.

  “Rick,” she said, and Ravi swore. “He needed my blood to open a safe. That’s why he wanted me.” Ravi swore again, pounding his fist on the counter. The mugs rattled against the tile.

  “Did you see what was inside?”

  “A floppy disk.”

  “A floppy disk?”

  “You heard me,” she sniped, although she understood his skepticism.

  Ravi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you know what was on it?” His mental calculations were practically audible, plotting possible answers in his mind. For the first time ever, Lucy didn’t think an equation could solve anything.

  Hopelessness coiled inside her until she was spoiling for a fight.

  “That information was on a need-to-know basis,” she replied. “Rick didn’t think I needed to know.”

  Lucy decided to leave out Rick’s job offer, although she doubted it was still on the table after the High Line fiasco. She just hoped he was too pragmatic to hold a grudge, or she’d have to count both the Freelancers and the Order of Sophia as her enemies.

  “The Freelancers had the Tesla Egg,” Lucy informed him. “They did steal it. Rick had me use it, but then he took it back.”

  Ravi released a frustrated breath. “It’s okay. Professor T might have some ideas about the disk. You did well.” He captured her gaze. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Proud of me?” she exclaimed. “How can you be proud of a monster?!”

  “You’re not a monster, Lucinda,” he growled, even as his expression grew tender.

  “I almost killed Jess!”

  “It was an accident. And she didn’t leave you much choice. You were defending yourself. Defending me.” She heard the agony in his voice. “It should have been the other way around.”

  Lucy inhaled a sharp breath. Ravi was twisted up about this too. Part of her wanted to reach out—to comfort him—and yet she didn’t. There were still big pieces of his puzzle missing.

  “What Jess said about her brother—was she right?” she asked instead. “Did the Initiates eliminate
him for asking questions?”

  “What? No, Lucy. No. They’re not assassins.”

  “They? You’re not one of them?”

  “I’ve gone through their basic training but no. My domain is research.”

  Lucy’s shoulders curled in momentary relief. “And her brother?”

  “I’d never heard of Jess or her brother before last night. Professor T briefed me very quickly when I phoned for backup. Her brother was an Initiate killed in an attack by the Sophists on one of our facilities. That’s all I know.” Softening his voice, he continued. “But she was out of her mind with grief. It wouldn’t be wise to take anything she said to heart. I know … what that’s like.”

  Lucy lowered her gaze to the floor. Jess was acting irrationally, no doubt, but there was so much Lucy didn’t know about the Orders or the Freelancers or how everything added up. The other girl had been willing to exchange her life for the truth. What if there was even the smallest possibility that she was right?

  “Yeah, probably,” Lucy said to her hands. She heard Ravi move toward her again. “What am I going to tell Claudia? She must hate me.”

  “You risked your life for her. She knows that. I don’t think she hates you. She’s just scared. She’s been through an ordeal.”

  “Ravi, what do we do if the Freelancers come after her again? Or my parents?”

  He blew out a breath. “The best way to protect her is to keep her in the dark. It would be safest for Claudia—and for you—if she didn’t remember what happened last night.”

  “How could Claudia ever not remember?” She swiveled on the stool and pinned him with a glare.

  His fingers twitched as if trying to resist stroking her cheek.

  “Ravi?” she prompted.

  “There are new technologies, surgical memory extraction using precise voltages.”

  “Are you serious? You can’t play with her brain! Claudia could end up a vegetable!”

  “It’s not the 1950s, Lucy,” he said calmly, as if what he was proposing were totally standard. “The procedures we’ve developed at Chrysopoeia Tech are much more precise.”

  “No. No! You can’t go around wiping people’s memories! Cole saw my hands on fire but not burning—are you going to erase his memory too?”