Like a Torrent

by Olivette Devaux

  Cooper forced a bit more power through.

  The headlights exploded.

  “Shit, shit! Sorry, guys!”

  Ash turned to him, looking incredulous. “Cooper?”

  “Yeah, about that. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  Hank shrugged. “Not our truck. And that asshole zapped us on purpose. Let’s get everybody else, see what those guys are up to.”

  “Trespassing,” Ash said grimly. “We may want to call the police.”

  “We can’t,” Cooper said with all the alarm he could muster, gesticulating wildly. “Are you nuts? How’re we going to explain this?” He pointed at the truck. “They’ll bust him for trespass, but they’ll get us for vandalism.” He scowled. “Trust me. Regular people don’t understand this stuff. And we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.” A memory of people trying to “help” him with his inexplicable images of underground structures still stung, a learning experience that had taught him how different he truly was. A collage of facts, events, and interactions he had amassed over the years had convinced him that he existed in a parallel world, a secret world – even though he had not been aware of its nature at the time. A world of regular people who would fear what he could do, and perhaps rightly so. Now that he wasn’t alone in this secret world, he didn’t want to reveal it to the overwhelmingly large universe of ordinary people. There had been stories of witch-burnings from many generations ago, and history like that wasn’t forgotten easily.

  Grandma Olga had taken the time to bring him up to speed, now that Cooper was part of it despite his early lack of any demonstrable elemental abilities.

  When Ash nodded in agreement, Cooper relaxed infinitesimally. “I’ll get the others. We need to see what they want, and what they can do.”

  JUST MINUTES LATER, they crawled through the hole in the fence. Ash took the lead, because he was Ash and this was his project. Cooper got that. He understood that Ash, of all people, would feel responsible and want to protect the people he now called “his team.”

  Except the blond guy had lightning, and Ash was water, and... and that didn’t play well in Cooper’s book. He hustled forward, wincing only a little as his head reminded him that he was still recovering from fighting the node only one day before.

  “I’ll go first,” he hissed at Ash. “I’m Earth. I can ground him out. You’ll just get shocked again!”

  Ash halted. Hank bumped him from behind. “Sorry, boss,” Hank said in a voice so quiet, Cooper could barely hear him. He dropped his weight, sinking into his knees in anticipation of the others running onto him.

  The next few moments was all mumbled apologies and milling around in an effort to be within whisper-range while sneaking over an overgrown lot full of unexpected surprises that hid in the tall grass and weeds. At least they were all aware of the danger of spraining an ankle in a rabbit hole, Cooper thought right before he locked his eyes with Ash.

  “No. I’m responsible.”

  “Um, boss.” Hank tapped Ash’s shoulder. “Let me go first. I haven’t gotten to send the node into the Void yesterday. I’m fresh. Unlike Cooper, here.”

  Cooper could’ve killed Hank just then, but looking weak was preferable to Ash haring off as a spear point and heading into an electrical storm where he’d be just as ineffective, and unfortunately, just as conductive. Biting his lip so hard he tasted blood, Cooper overcame his pride and gave a sharp nod.

  “Cooper?” Concern wove its way through Ash’s gentle wisp. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just not...” Just not stupid.

  No, he couldn’t say that. That would convince Ash to protect them all with his body, mind, and spirit against what may come. “Still a bit of a headache,” he admitted. “Not hundred percent yet.”

  Ash narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Cooper wasn’t sure whether he was going to call him what he had intended to say, or whether he’d try to send him back. Not that Cooper would’ve listened.

  “Okay.” Ash nodded. “We have a zapper ahead, and we have two guys with unknown talents. Hank, your Void is useful, but you can’t do everything. Cooper can ground him out to an extent. How’bout we keep you in reserve, like yesterday?”

  “But I did nothing yesterday,” Hank objected. “Had I been closer, Jared would still be here.”

  “Not your fault,” Cooper said automatically. “Good idea, Ash. I’ll ground, you watch out for unexpected shit. Everybody else,” Cooper said as he looked around. “We have wind, lightning, and sound-effects. With Ash, you guys could create quite a storm. Maybe make a bit of a distraction.”

  “What’s our goal?” Paul asked sensibly.

  Ash paused. “I want them off my land. And, I don’t want them to break the shields over the node.”

  “So, we could chase them off,” Ash said. “We could generate bad weather and get them out of here. Except... except I lost my sword yesterday, and I don’t know if I can do it as well as, like when...” he trailed off.

  “You don’t have to focus through the sword, babe.” Cooper stroked his arm with a hand that was steadied by a sudden burst of inspiration. “If you get the rain going, I’ll help you make it nice and big.”

  His shield-stone was, after all, in the crater over the node. Cooper drew a cleansing breath, and flung his senses wide open. “Go ahead,” he whispered, nudging Ash with his mind. “I’m ready for you.”

  THE TOUCH OF Cooper’s mind was hard and dry, like sandstone. Ash didn’t feel fire in it like last time, and that was a good thing. Cooper didn’t have his pendant anymore, and the knowledge that he wasn’t at the brink of causing a devastating earthquake gave Ash the confidence he needed to relax, and stretch his water-sense out like catfish feelers.

  The river was ahead of them, not very far. Just past those water-laden trees. The hazy sky overhead sported that thin, perennial cloud cover that was responsible for making Pittsburgh the third cloudiest city in the country. It wasn’t much, compared to the times when a front rolled up the Ohio valley, but he could work with it.

  Ground and center.

  Stretch out, and... slowly, laboriously, water molecules coalesced above his open hand. Mist formed into droplets, droplets into rain.

  It wasn’t happening as fast as before. Ash frowned. “I can’t.” The words flew out of his mouth unbidden. He had never been a negative person, he had always found a way, but now he didn’t have his sword, and the node didn’t feed him errant waves of scattered energy. The ley lines, too, felt stagnant, so faint underground, he could barely detect them.

  Inhale, exhale, focus.

  Try again.

  He tried so hard, yesterday became today as they were enveloped, once again, in gray fog that rolled over the uneven ground, with torn wisps ghosting between saplings. It sucked in what light made its way through the misty clouds overhead.

  “But fog isn’t rain,” Ash whispered with his eyes still closed. “I’m –”

  Before he could say sorry, Ash felt Cooper’s mouth crash against his own. Firm and soft and warm, Cooper’s lips slid over his own with a drag of skin against skin.

  Then the tongue came, and with it the slick moisture which always made Cooper’s kisses a hundred times more intense, a thousand times more intoxicating.

  Mist surrounded them, thick and clammy, as though the temperature had dropped. A faint breeze picked up, but it was hard to care. The intruders, the node, the weight of responsibility for Jared’s death, all that got swept away by a slide of tongue against tongue.

  But his team. His team was watching, and they possibly couldn’t –

  The wind picked up. A gust whipped a spray of droplets against his ear.

  Rain.

  He had made the rain after all. He’d done it, with Cooper’s help, and Ellen carried it over to the crater. He could see that now in his mind’s eye. His own energy in a snarl of an angry storm cloud was drawn to three unwanted power signatures.

  He tried to push harder – but the rain eased off.

&n
bsp; “Unhg,” Cooper mumbled against him, and pulled their hips close together.

  The rain picked up again.

  Oh, God. He’d have to make out with Cooper right here, out in the open, to sustain his weather assault. The energy that flowed into the storm welled up in his center, expanding the width of the cloud, darkening it.

  Hardening the member in his pants.

  Ash moaned into Cooper’s mouth, hoping he was quiet enough for the rivulets of water to wash his little sounds away. Cooper pulled him in, sliding his leg between his, as though they were in a club, and dancing.

  The wind crescendoed into the gusts of a gale.

  Ash stumbled.

  Cooper lowered him down. Wet grass and coarse stems of fragrant wild flowers buried them like a pile of thick comforters. Cooper lay heavy over him, grinding, gasping.

  “I want you,” he ground out, right by Ash’s ear.

  The floodgates of heaven opened once again. Ash felt Cooper unbutton his pants and slide his zipper open.

  This was awkward, but this was also hot. Inexplicably hot.

  When their bare cocks touched, a bolt of lightning split the gray storm around them, followed by an almost immediate and sharp thunder-clap, and the fresh smell of ozone.

  The temperature dropped.

  Small, hard pellets bounced off the hands Ash had on Cooper’s ass. They hit his forehead, and their cold melt waters blinded him. The contrast of rain and hail and wind to their hot erections sliding against each other was intoxicating.

  Wind met wind as lightnings flashed in the sky. Ash saw their bluish glow through his closed eyelids, and he also saw their energy and its origin in his mind’s eye.

  He and Cooper – they were part of those lightnings, part of that thunder. They couldn’t stop now and rob their team of a power source strong enough to battle the wind adept on the other side.

  Modesty be damned. “Come for me, Cooper!”

  Warm mouth descended upon his throat, sucking, biting. The pleasure was intense, but so was the hail pelting his face. “Please,” he gasped.

  A hot surge of raw power rocked Ash. The pain of teeth clenching on his shoulder was momentary, almost welcome.

  Power calls to power. Ash let it rip, feeding the clouds, the rain, the hail. A booming thunder crack covered the cry that ripped out of his throat as he came. Or, at least, he hoped it did.

  A distant scream whispered of uncertain victory. He wanted to see what happened. He wanted to stretch his senses and read his opponent in a moment of weakness, but that sudden, post-coital lassitude descended upon Ash like a warm blanket on a windy autumn day.

  “Can you tell if it’s over?” He said, nudging Cooper on top of him. Cooper, who was relaxed now and sleepy-eyed, as though he had not put on a show for all who wanted to watch.

  How embarrassing. This was just... oh God. He’d never live it down.

  “Maybe?” Cooper said, then yawned. “We better get up, or else I’ll fall asleep.”

  Cooper lightened up over him and zipped up his jeans, waiting for Ash to do the same. The attempt at modesty was touching.

  Slowly, Cooper clambered up to his feet. Ash did too, mortified and afraid to face his team. Who did stuff like that, anyway? How weird was it, to generate this much power, and like this? And... while they were out in the open, with company in tow?

  “Well done,” Mark said, nodding slowly. His eyes were pinned at some invisible point deep in the fog. The hail had stopped, but the rain was still coming down at a good clip. “You may want to stop raining, Ash. One of the guys is down over there.”

  “Dead?” Ash dreaded the answer.

  “Not sure,” Mark said. “Probably not.”

  Ash looked around. Ellen was making her hand gestures, looking like one of those Hong-Kong movie stars doing tai chi or whatever. She was focused, making wind.

  “I think we’re done for now, Ellen,” Ash said.

  The wind died down, and Ellen shook her wrists out with a tired gesture of an endurance athlete. “Thanks for the power boost, boss,” she said. “I mean, Ash.” She flashed him an irreverent grin. “You’ll always be Ash to me.” Then, more seriously, she looked at the fog that surrounded them. “Do you want me to blow the fog away? Did I do okay?”

  “From what I saw, you did.” Ash was too embarrassed to tell her he could follow just snippets of whatever battle they had just waged with his inner eye alone. He had been otherwise preoccupied, but if she hadn’t noticed, he sure wasn’t going to tell her.

  Ahem.

  “Why is Hank all the way over there?” Cooper asked.

  “He was Voiding all of us and stealing our thunder.” Paul said. “He can’t help himself. Right now he needs to be at least twenty feet away. It’s uncanny. I can’t believe he can do what he’s doing.”

  “That will come in very useful someday,” Ash said, and waved Hank over.

  “Shit, sorry, Boss.” The apology was the first thing to fly out of Hank’s mouth, followed by a disgusted spit to the side. “I need to be closer to them to neutralize them. All I did was get in your way.”

  “No, what you have is useful,” Ash said. “Unusual, but useful. I can see the potential. We’ll just have to figure out a way of working with you, that’s all.”

  “You doing sex magic is what’s useful,” Hank said. “If it wasn’t for the two of you, we would’ve been toast. That white-haired guy, the wind worker? He’s fucking powerful.”

  Sex magic.

  So they knew. “So you know?” Ash felt like an idiot for having to say it aloud.

  The taunts he expected never came. The four of them all nodded. “Sure we know. I mean, it’s not like you guys invented it! Although having two men is handy. The power buildup doesn’t need to be as slow as when there’s a woman involved. Unless you’re okay with just one release, that is.” She crinkled her nose. “Which I’m not, unless it’s an emergency.”

  While Ash was writhing in embarrassment, Cooper cocked his head to the side. “Is that why people go camping all the time?”

  “Duh,” Ellen said, giving him a look. “Are you telling me you’ve never been to a power-raising circle?”

  Cooper shook his head. “No. Tell me later, okay? I feel something stirring up ahead.”

  Hank pointed at Ash. “I’m going in first. You just depleted most everything in your system.”

  Ash nodded. “Let’s go,” he said, both curious and apprehensive. This power-raising approach to things wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before. He’d have to ask Cooper’s grandmother next time they got to visit.

  CHAPTER 19

  The fog began to clear as the sun peeked from behind the clouds. To Cooper, it seemed as though all the water that had been trapped in the clouds overhead got used up in Ash’s artificially created microburst, and the event had cleared the air just enough to allow the blue sky to show overhead. He took a deep breath, and focused on the crater that hid across the abandoned railroad track. The scar in the Earth was now mostly hidden in a copse of sycamore and choke cherry saplings.

  He tried to visualize the underground tunnels through which he had walked with Ash and Uncle Owen just months ago, but the ground was deaf to his query. Even though he had the layout memorized, he could not see the structures with his inner eye and found himself searching blindly, grasping for the slightest bits of extra-sensory input. He didn’t find any, and the lack of feeling was disconcerting.

  This is what he had wanted ever since his talent began to manifest when he entered college. This inner stillness was exactly what all those psychotropic drugs were supposed to achieve, but instead of feeling at peace, alarmed panic washed over him on the heels of the oppressive stillness.

  He squeezed Ash’s elbow, who walked next to him. “I can’t feel anything,” Cooper whispered.

  “Me neither.”

  It must have been Hank’s doing, then, and walking behind Hank in his red-alert mode was like lugging a sack of cement in his head. “I’ll mov
e to the side,” Cooper whispered.

  “Don’t. He’s protecting us.” Ash grabbed his hand. “We’re almost there.”

  Cooper noted Ash’s strained, pleading tone. Ash had always been more aware of his inner world than Cooper, since he had more practice and had started younger. Cooper considered Ash as the more talented of the two of them, because how cool was it to summon a thunderstorm? Going from an ongoing and acute awareness of his environment to feeling dead inside was likely taking an even higher toll on Ash than on him. Cooper squeezed Ash’s hand back. He’d stay.

  The trees thinned, revealing the familiar clearing, where their team had wrestled down the rogue node less than twenty-four hours ago and where Jared had drawn his last breath.

  Cooper’s sinuses filled, and his eyes threatened to overflow, but thinking of Jared made him feel something, and even the burden of his crushing grief and guilt was better than the silence of the Void which trailed in Hank’s wake.

  Hank stopped, and the rest of the group piled behind him. Like the others, Cooper craned his neck, curious to see the intruders they had, supposedly, fought off just minutes ago.

  The bigger of the two henchmen had Brian Clegg slung over his shoulder. Cooper assessed Brian’s limp body, with his hair gleaming like a splash of vibrant sunshine against his guard’s black T-shirt. He seemed only unconscious. That was good, wasn’t it? He was a threat, of that Cooper had no doubt, but he didn’t want another death to muddle the difficult maze of turmoil he had been experiencing after Jared’s death.

  Except Brian had not been the only threat. The others mentioned a wind adept, and right now, Cooper was trying to decide whether the source of devastating gale had been the tall man with brown hair who was holding Brian, or the shorter, broad-shouldered fireplug with hair so pale, it appeared white in the sun.

  Ash moved to Cooper’s left, and stepped in front of Hank. “I’m Ash Ravenna. We haven’t been formally introduced. How is he?” He waved toward Brian’s prone form.

  The shorter man flashed him an assessing look from ten feet away, and then nodded, as though Ash had passed some kind of a test. “My name’s David Rhea,” he said in a way of introduction. He closed fifteen feet of the twenty that separated them, fished inside his rear jeans pocket, and extracted a worn, leather wallet. “I’m a private investigator,” David said as he peeled the stuck brown leather apart. “Let me give you a card, but I think you made them wet.”