Capturing Today (TimeShifters Book 2) by Jessica Keller, Jess Evander Read Free Book Online Page B

Others, I scream myself awake. Or jerk to sitting, feeling around my bed in a blind panic.
    But I slept through the night last night.
    A few feet away, Michael’s up, rubbing his teeth with something from a little tin. Which means he wiggled out of the cot without waking me. Impressive. Especially since he’s still moving as if his joints hurt. I stretch, causing the cot to moan.
    Michael peeks my way, sending a wink. “Morning, sleepyhead.” The words are jumbled by the finger in his mouth. He spits into a bucket and wipes his mouth with his sleeve before holding out the small container. “Want some?”
    “Is that your subtle way of saying I have bad breath?” I sit up and swing my feet to the floor. My shoes are still on. I can’t believe I fell asleep wearing them.
    He holds up his hands in mock defense. The familiar, kidding half smile graces his face. “If you want to walk around all day with dragon breath, don’t blame me. You know, that would actually be an effective way to keep all the lonely soldiers away from you. So, I say, go for it. Then again, you’re pretty enough that they may look past the smell and flirt with you anyway.”
    “You’re hilarious. Really. You should go on the road with that act.”
    He holds the lid over the container, his eyebrows raised.
    I jump out of bed. “Just hand it over.” I take the container and stare down into it. A grayish powder greets me. Figures. “Next time, can we put in a request to shift to when toothpaste was invented? Seriously.”
    “It has been invented. It just hasn’t gained popularity yet. So tooth powder it is.”
    Despite the fact that we must have slept a good seven hours—I’m taking a guess based on the fact that it’s light outside now—Michael’s eyelids are still only at half-mast. Our quick back and forth seems to have drained him. After he hands me the container, he slumps down onto a trunk located near the end of the bed.
    I stick my finger into the powder and turn to face a small, chipped mirror hanging from one of the tent’s poles. I gag the second the powder comes into contact with my gums. The powder is evil. Pure. Evil.  Bad breath might be a better option. “This stuff is disgusting.”
    Michael’s lips pull up on one side. But only by a fraction. “A little charcoal and ground bones never hurt anyone.”
    Don’t think about it. Just do it. Or distract my brain from the awfulness. That might be better. “So, fill me in. What’s been going on since I left?”
    “I don’t know what to say.”
    Shifting time is different than my time at home is, so I know it hasn’t been eight months for him, but it’s been awhile. He has nothing to tell me? Not one story or bit of news worth knowing? My gut clenches. Keleusma and my friends went back to life as usual once I was gone. Michael went right along without me. Hurt sears across my chest like a knife against flesh.
     I work my jaw back and forth. Fine. If he won’t tell me about shifting, I won’t ask. I’m not going to beg for information like a fool. Not this time around. “Why not start with where we are?”
    “France.”
    “What?” I spit out the powder that’s now turned into a sticky—rancid—paste in my mouth. Spin around to face him. “I specifically remember Darnell saying we don’t shift to other countries.”
    His brow furrows.  “I don’t know why he’d say something like that.” He takes a couple deep breaths. “Maybe you misheard him?” Another audible breath. “We’re sent to wherever we can manage. In a sense, you’re right thinking that you stand a good chance of not being sent to say, the Ming Dynasty.” He pauses. “You don’t know the language and wouldn’t be of much help.” He rubs his temples.
    “You don’t look okay.”
    Michael purses his lips, drops his hands into his lap, and rounds his shoulder a few times before straightening his spine. “There are shifters from every country that train in Keleusma. You might not