Capturing Today (TimeShifters Book 2) by Jessica Keller, Jess Evander

Michael’s bruises and cuts will quickly fade, but what about his internal pain? His mind. His spirit. Are those okay? Will he shrug off this experience like most of the others?
    Or will it become another deep scar on his heart that he hides from everyone?
    I stop next to his bed and press my fingertips into the mattress. “I’m going to go somewhere with Eugene for a bit. Will you be all right?”
    He struggles to sit up and winces. I press my hand to his shoulder, guiding him back down.
    He takes a long, deep breath. “Will you be here when I wake up?” His eyes almost close. Whatever Darnell gave him is strong. He’s fading fast. But if I know Michael, he’ll force himself to stay awake until I answer him.
    My chest feels tight and achy watching him. If words could heal, I’d say whatever he needs to hear.
    “Of course I’ll be here.” I try to infuse life into my voice. He doesn’t need to sense the anxiety that darts around inside my stomach. “Don’t worry about me. Your job right now is to sleep and get better. I still owe you a very stern talking to, which you’re not about to dodge.” I shake my finger at him, my frayed emotions causing me to overdo it. I try to correct my tone. “So that’s something to look forward to once you’re back to a hundred percent.”
     His fingers walk toward where my hand rests on the bed until the tips of them touch me. “Gabby?” Eyes closed now, he slurs my name. “You’re my best friend.”
    I almost lost him.
    “You’re mine too.” A tear escapes and slides to the corner of my mouth.
    I flip my hand over, squeezing his gently. “Stay gold, Ponyboy,” I whisper.
    Eyes closed, a slight smile lets me know he heard me and probably knows the literary reference. Somehow, I knew he would.
    I turn and palm away my tears as I head back to Eugene. A single thought pounds through my head throughout the entire walk to his office. If Erik hadn’t shifted me, Michael would be dead right now. There’s no getting around that truth. Left to Nicholas, Michael would be gone. Dead and buried in some World War One mass grave near the trenches.             
    Bile races up my throat. I swallow, but my eyes keep burning.
    We stop in front of a door, and Eugene pulls a wad of keys from his pocket and starts flipping through them. For such an intelligent person, he’s so disorganized. After trying three different keys, he locates the one for his office. In Eugene’s defense, the keys are all about the same size and shape. I debate telling him about the Pinterest hack I saw where he could use colored nail polish to code all his keys but think better of it.
    He holds the door open. “Have a seat in the chair by my desk. It’s that or the floor, I’m afraid.”
    Like the last time I was here, Eugene’s office is large and cluttered with piles of paperwork, file cabinets, and stacks of mechanical parts. If I was placing a bet on it, I’d say the floor has never been swept. Not exactly the most sterile place for a blood draw. Then again, I still smell like the trenches.
    “Where’s the teleporter?” I point to the empty area.
    “Somewhere more secure.” He opens a box on his desk and pulls out five little vials and a needle.
    Eugene has my best interest at heart, doesn’t he? He cares. And he’s smart. But is he on the wrong side in the fight between Shifters and Shades? Someone good and talented like him wouldn’t follow the wrong leader. But Erik saved Michael. He shifted me, and Nicholas continues to ignore everyone.
    I drop into the swivel chair and lay my arm, wrist up, on top of the papers scattered across the desk. On one is a drawing that shows a Portal and then a bunch of scribbles and calculations. Eugene opens what looks like a handy wipe from a BBQ place and washes the inside of my elbow.
    Remembering the last time I tried to give blood—which ended in me fainting—I make a fist. “When did the resident computer whiz learn to use a