Storm Front: NA Fantasy/Time Travel (Tesla Time Travelers Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

parents’.”
    “Go. But come back. You need me.”
    “I do.” Holy shit, I do. I look to Mrs. Steinaman. “I’ll use the door.”
    She puts a hand over her heart. “Thanks, dear.”
    Steinaman walks me out and waits, watchful from the alcove above his front porch. I nod and flare my lightning. “I’ll be back.”
    “Don’t tarry.”
    My arrival skips Papi’s and lands me in a hallway of Ilif’s lab, immediately identifiable by the futuristic opaque glass walls and sterility. Where Camaria’s work environment was open and light and cheerful with the same components, Ilif’s is stuffy and claustrophobic. The ceiling is a foot too short, making me feel like I’m underground and there isn’t a single window other than the ones that peer into the rows of rooms on either side of the long hall. Florescent lighting tracks run along the corners, both top and bottom, like exit lights on planes, ready to show fleeing workers how to get out of this place. I don’t like it.
    Beyond the cramped feel, this lab has served as backdrop to all Penya’s transmissions—all the ones I thought she was sneakily sending out, risking her life to contact me. I can’t believe he was so stupid as to not know she was here. For all his lies he probably did and they’re still working together, lying to me, manipulating me, using my family. I grind my teeth together and stomp through the over-bright hallway, on a mission to find him and strangle the fuck out of him.
    The first room I peer into hold computers unlike anything I’ve seen at home. Scrolling lines of text and gibberish race across massive plates of glass interspersed with complex line diagrams and models. They interact with each other, morphing and changing as more calculations spin up the face of the smooth surface. Hurriedly checking the one across from it, I find more of the same, different diagrams and models, but same concept. They’re grinding through massive amounts of data. All for alterations? Are the diagrams time lines and projected outcomes? How many of my ancestors have been here? How many are working with him now? I don’t have time to get a grip on his present being my future and the ramifications of what that could mean for me. My brain just can’t deal with that right now.
    Three more rooms, and more questions. There’s a reason I’m came here to find him, just like with every interaction I have beyond my own timeline, I just have to figure out why and what happens when I’m not arcing? If this isn’t an alteration, I’m just traveling. To the future, which means I’ve now been able to do something no other rider has—I’ve moved forward. Twice. But considering all that Penya’s lied about, maybe that’s not such a big deal. Maybe everyone can.
    I turn a corner and spot him at the end of another hallway; it takes everything I have not to charge him like a bull and tackle him to the ground. We’ve never been together when he’s been in a physical form. I could hurt him now.  
    He’s turned away from me, standing with a young Asian man and reviewing a stack of papers. Both voices carry down the slick walls and I only miss a few words. It’s sciency shit wrapped loosely in time-traveling. Nikola’s name gets mentioned and Ilif goes off on a tangent about how things work. I yank the end of my braid. My hatred for him (what about him—what is it in this moment that she’s watching that mimics everything she knows/despises about him—what is it that he’s going to flip on it’s head?) Blah blah fucking blah. He’s going over stupid details that no one but him cares about. His cohort is fidgeting, trying to get them back on track, trying to get Ilif to finish answering.
    Ilif finishes with a flourish. Then, tugs the sleeve of his jacket—the left one.
    I tip my head. There’s no reason for him to lie about these details that he’s so expertly doling out. He’s obnoxiously proving how smart he is, but lying about them would screw up