Scintilla

by Elizabeth Noble

  “What’s that?”

  “Instructions and keystrokes to use,” Raul explained.

  “No.” Fahim pointed over Raul’s shoulder to one of the monitors. “That?” He tapped Raul’s shoulder and pointed again.

  Raul looked at the monitor on the left. A small icon shaped like an old-style movie camera blinked in one corner. He set the paper next to the keyboard and found the instructions that matched the little image on the screen. It took him a few seconds of fumbling with the mouse and keys before a video feed appeared on the screen.

  Fahim sucked in a breath as they watched a woman use an obvious electric charge to cause Brandon considerable pain.

  “Crap, is she another—”

  “Yep,” Raul said. “Another scintilla and I’m going to figure out how to get my hands around her neck and kill her.” He didn’t want to see how Brandon’s face contorted in pain each time she touched him. Or how he cringed when she spoke. It didn’t matter there was no sound, only picture, Raul could see plainly what was going on.

  “I thought you said they couldn’t hurt each other with their electricity,” Fahim said. He put a hand on Raul’s shoulder. “Look at the time stamp, this was hours ago.”

  “She hit me with a bolt that knocked me cold. Her charge is more powerful than Brandon’s. She’s weaponized, she has to be. You and I both know, normal scintillas can’t do that,” Raul said.

  “That TV show when we were kids, it was right, or at least partially right,” Fahim said. “How the hell do we fight that?”

  “And who is this guy?” Raul watched another man, older than Brandon, but he judged to be around the same age as the woman. “I think these are the people behind this whole operation.”

  “Brandon resembles that woman,” Fahim said in a low voice.

  Raul turned away from the computer and focused on Fahim. “Brandon’s father told me he hadn’t had contact with Brandon’s biological mother for more than twenty years.”

  “Likely from the day Brandon was born,” Fahim suggested.

  Nodding, Raul agreed. “I bet he paid her for that ‘no contact’ part.” He pulled in a few deep breaths and leaned forward, studying the monitor, needing some time to absorb all this information. Raul couldn’t—wouldn’t—take any time. “Okay, so she’s got training and way more power than Brandon, but there’s no reason to think basically they’re not the same, right?”

  “I guess.” Fahim nodded slowly. “But we don’t know where they are.”

  “One step at a time. When I know where they are, I want to go in very prepared.” Raul shoved out of the chair and moved to the middle of the room, pacing as he talked. “All living things create some sort of electrical charge. Brandon’s enhanced charge and his ability to absorb a certain amount of electricity is tied to mutations in his endocrine system, natural cortisol and hormones.”

  “Which would hold true for any scintilla no matter how powerful they are,” Fahim said.

  Raul nodded. “Right. Expending a larger than normal charge tires him. He needs certain foods, plenty of fluids and rest to recharge. Also, the release of hormones and endorphins during sex helps him recharge.”

  Fahim snorted. “If that is related to the size of the charge, she’ll be one horny bitch. Instead of confronting her we should take her to a bar full of single men. That’ll occupy her for a while.”

  “We don’t want her recharging.”

  “Could we also surmise since she produces a much larger charge than Brandon that it would take her longer to get back to full power?” Fahim asked.

  Raul stopped and shrugged. “The fact is I don’t know, but it does seem logical.”

  “Although draining her of her charge might also take longer,” Fahim pointed out. “And part of her training might’ve been ways to contain her charge and combat fatigue.”

  “We’ll need to move fast,” Raul said. Fahim raised his eyebrows. “Will you help me?”

  Fahim rolled his eyes. “I didn’t dress like this for fun and I like Brandon. What’s more significant is he’s important to you and you are someone I care for, so yes, of course, you don’t even need to ask.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you have an idea?” Fahim asked.

  “How fast can you shift from this…” Raul waved one hand up and down, “… to vapor?”

  Fahim took out his cell phone and tossed it to Raul. “Time me.”

  Raul smiled and activated the stopwatch. “Ready?” His finger hovered over the start button. Fahim nodded and Raul said, “Go.”

  Before Raul could start the timer, Fahim turned to smoke and rematerialized a foot to the right. “I’ve never timed myself. How did I do?”

  Raul held up the phone and turned it to face Fahim. “Faster than a cell phone stopwatch. Or at least faster than I could hit the start button. So, I’d say pretty damn fast.”

  “Will that be faster than electricity though?”

  “I have no idea. However, that electricity is controlled by a human. Even magical humans have human reflexes. If I couldn’t react fast enough, I doubt she’ll be able to. Here’s my thought, if you can goad her into zapping you and vaporize before you’re hit…”

  “And keep moving. Someone like that won’t give up or accept she can’t hit me,” Fahim said.

  “You might be able to wear her down enough I can get to her. She’s human, I’m a werewolf. Without her electrical ability it’s not going to be much of a fight,” Raul pointed out and cracked his knuckles.

  “What about the man, her accomplice?”

  Raul heaved a sigh. “We’ll just have to hope we can find out from these videos what he is, but I’m betting he’s human… not magical, not a shifter… just human same as Bisset. Otherwise they wouldn’t need her, or Tala, or Bob.” He strode back to the chair and picked up the instructions, scanning the paper. “Now I find out where Brandon is.”

  “And how will we do that?” Fahim asked.

  “Brandon set up a series of false social media profiles. Embedded in them are directions and clues to where he is.” Raul consulted the paper again. Another minute of pecking at the keyboard a map appeared on the main monitor.

  “How does a map of the Western Hemisphere help? That isn’t exactly narrowing things down,” Fahim pointed out.

  “He said it could take a few minutes. Each place he could get online he’ll access one of the profiles and a marker will show up on the map. It should start focusing in on one area.” Raul thumped his fist against the tabletop and blew out a harsh breath.

  Fahim put a hand on Raul’s shoulder and squeezed gently for a few seconds. “Being patient when someone we love is in danger is the most difficult task of all.”

  Raul twisted far enough to look up at Fahim. “I—”

  “Oh, please. You’ve been in love with the guy since he got hit with a Taser, probably before that.” Fahim grinned and nodded at the monitor. “And it looks like Brandon’s gimmick works. Distraction makes the time pass faster.”

  When Raul turned back to the screen the map had zoomed in on El Paso and parts of Mexico. Small red dots appeared, and the map moved and narrowed to one area as the dots moved south of the boarder.

  “Estado Libre y Soberano de Chihuahua. Great the largest state in Mexico,” Raul grumbled.

  Fahim pointed to a spot on the screen. “That dot there, it’s blinking.”

  “Oh, crap, I forgot…” Raul used the mouse to hover the cursor over the red dot. A box popped up next to it and he could see a clock indicating Brandon had been in that area for hours, almost a day. “They must’ve moved him right after that woman zapped me.” There were also location coordinates.

  “That is one very clever plan,” Fahim said.

  “Can you get me there?”

  Fahim stepped away from the table and to the middle of the room. He held out one hand to Raul. “Not to sound cliché, but your wish and all.”

  “What do I do?” Raul trailed after Fahim.

  Wagging
his fingers in a come here motion, Fahim explained, “We have to be touching.” He grabbed Raul’s hand and yanked him in, so he was flush with Fahim’s body and put an arm around Raul. “Deep breaths and you should probably bend your knees.”

  “O—” Raul’s voice was cut off when the room, then the rest of the world grayed out and everything turned into a dark, formless, swirling cloud.

  Chapter 15

  “Whoa…holeee…shit!” Raul staggered to one side and would’ve ended up with his face on the floor had Fahim not grabbed his shoulders. He leaned on his knees and took deep breaths to try and stop his shaking.

  “You didn’t bend your knees, did you? Breathe, in through your mouth, out through your nose. Like when something has a really rank smell.” Fahim waited until Raul straightened then patted his chest. When Raul belched, Fahim asked, “You’re not going to puke on me, are you?”

  With his fist against his mouth, Raul shook his head, squeaking a very unmanly, “No.”

  “Good. I hate when people yak on me. Even my magic can’t get that smell out of some fabrics.”

  Raul stared at him for a few seconds. “Are you serious?”

  “Uh, yeah. I take my wardrobe very seriously.” He glanced down at himself and moved one hand up and down his torso. “This whole package doesn’t just happen. It’s attention to detail and keeping other people’s bodily discharges off of me.”

  “Do your clients often throw up on you?”

  Fahim shrugged. “Some get pretty green when I audit their business before a sale.”

  Raul straightened and rolled his shoulders, gulping in more deep breaths to set himself right again. He pulled his shirt out of his pants, so it hung loose and unbuttoned it before reaching down and stripping off his shoes and socks, his belt was left alongside them after he rubbed it between his hands a few times. Next he removed his shirt and spread it on the floor then fashioned it into a satchel, tied everything inside and slung it over his shoulder. All the while he was taking in details about the building where they’d landed. It was an old prison, that much Raul knew from Brandon’s map.

  “It had to be a fucking prison, in Mexico, with iron bars,” Raul grumbled. He and Fahim were in what appeared to be some sort of visitation area, or maybe a cafeteria. It was a big, open space with a two-story ceiling. Farther along he could see rows of cells on two levels with barred doors, and other rooms with solid doors, some wood, others constructed of metal.

  Not a good place to be right now. They were too vulnerable, and Raul needed the element of surprise, or as much of one as he could formulate.

  He shifted so he was half-human and half-werewolf.

  “I think you’re going to get dirty on this one,” Raul snarled. He pulled Brandon’s phone out and slapped it into Fahim’s other hand. “Hang on to this for me.”

  He took a step forward but was stopped by Fahim’s hand firmly on his arm. When he spun around and faced his friend, Fahim tensed but met Raul’s glare with one of his own and stood his ground.

  “Get a grip and stop being emotional. You can’t go charging in like this. You’ll kill someone or do something you’ll deeply regret.”

  “Too late,” Raul ground out. He had to speak more slowly so it made him sound even angrier than he was.

  Fahim frowned, but Raul wasn’t going to tell him, or anyone, about the man he’d already killed.

  “I can get through the spaces between the bars,” Fahim said and sighed.

  “Good to know.”

  “Now, put your anger away and do this right or I won’t help you.”

  “Those… people… have Brandon.” Raul pointed to the expanse of building surrounding them.

  “We’ll get him back, but we’ll do it legally and safely,” Fahim said in a low voice.

  Raul yanked his arm free. “This way.”

  He followed Brandon’s scent at a run. There was no worrying that Fahim, unlike a human, wouldn’t keep up. If he couldn’t do it in human form on two legs, he’d evaporate into his smoke and, if needed, could easily outdistance Raul. So far he heard the steady pounding of Fahim’s feet not too far behind him.

  As when they were in the printing factory, Raul’s thermoception vision was hampered by cinderblock walls. His ability to see in infrared was more sensitive as a werewolf, but he had none of the ability artificial technology provided for police, military, and even game hunters. The plain fact was, he couldn’t see heat radiating from a body through a brick wall. He was made more for a real jungle, not an urban one.

  His sense of smell was working perfectly, however. Unlike when they were in the printing factory and scents were spread all over, here there was a concentration in one place. No one expected him to show up, so there was no need to spread scents around the building as camouflage. Brandon’s scent mingled with three other people.

  As soon as they were out of the open area, Raul stopped and pulled one of his socks loose. He used his claws to rip it to shreds. He dropped a few strands near the wall.

  Fahim watched but didn’t say a word.

  “Bob is here. He’ll smell me, us. We can’t hide but we can confuse him as to our exact whereabouts,” Raul explained.

  “Do you need my socks?”

  Raul shook his head. “Naa. He can’t tell you’re an effrit by scent alone. And, more importantly he’s an asshole who thinks he’s invincible.”

  “Way to build a guy up,” Fahim mumbled.

  They made their way through to a section of two-story cells with a narrow walkway along the outer perimeter, dropping little bits of Raul’s sock in a scattered pattern as they went. As much as Raul wanted to go straight to Brandon, he knew he had to be cautious. They circled around and doubled back so they weren’t leaving a scent trail leading straight to them.

  With each twist and turn, Brandon’s scent got stronger until Raul was immersed in it. The bouquet of scents Brandon gave off set Raul on edge, hammering at him until every fiber of his being wanted nothing else but to find Brandon. That’s when he ducked into an empty cell on the lower level and took a minute to center himself.

  Calm, Fierro, be calm.

  There were no lights and very little natural lighting, so slinking to the back of the cell and keeping to the shadows was easy.

  “They’re above us somewhere.” Raul pointed up, whispering the words. He moved to the cell entrance and squatted down before looking up and down the walkway.

  Fahim stood behind him and leaned over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  Raul reached behind him and gave Fahim’s leg a shove. “Get down. It’ll make you harder to see.”

  “Why?”

  “Just….do it.” Raul twisted around, grabbed Fahim’s wrist and hauled him down. “People don’t look down and it’s easier to move quietly. And stay back against the wall.”

  “Maybe for you. I can be invisible and silent in a snap of my fingers.”

  When Raul glared at him, Fahim crossed his arms over this chest and huffed. At least he stopped talking. When Bob’s voice, along with another man’s, came at them from the level above, Fahim crouched down. Raul motioned him to keep quiet then concentrated on the voices.

  “You don’t get it. I know he’s here,” Bob was saying.

  “How the hell could he possibly know where to look? We’re hundreds of miles away and it’s not as if he could follow a scent trail,” another man said.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you say. He’s a werewolf. I’m a werewolf and I can smell him all over this place,” Bob insisted.

  Raul looked back at Fahim and raised his eyebrows.

  “His scent is probably all over my stupid fake kid brother. We move the little faggot and the werewolf’s scent moves too.”

  They stopped walking. Raul could just make out their silhouettes on the walkway above them. He focused on the man claiming to be Brandon’s brother. The comment about Brandon being a ‘fake’ brother led Raul to believe this brother knew Brandon was adopted. Raul’s next question
was, did he know the reason Brandon was adopted and why was he working with these assholes? Brandon kept telling Raul there had to be someone involved who knew more about what Brandon could do, in some cases more than he did himself.

  Unfortunately, Brandon had been right.

  “It doesn’t work like that, Ethan,” Bob kept arguing. Now Raul had a name. “He’s here. I don’t know how they did it, but he’s here.”

  “They?” Ethan asked.

  “Yeah, they, genius. Your brother and Fierro were working as a team. They ain’t stupid. I ain’t stupid. When you work with a crew you need plans. You need to know how to get to the others in your crew if things fuck up and you get separated,” Bob snapped.

  “Well, thank you for the ‘being a criminal 101’ lesson,” Ethan grumbled. “I run a multibillion-dollar corporation, I think I can handle some scared pansy assed kid and a sex worker who moonlights as a bounty hunter and catches petty crooks too stupid to stay out of jail.”

  Bob growled and Raul was inclined to agree with his sentiment. A glance at Fahim was all he needed to see his anger reflected in his face. After another few seconds he crossed his arms over his chest and turned away.

  “I’m gonna go look for—”

  “You’re going to do the job I hired you for,” Ethan cut Bob off. Bob snarled but went with Ethan when he stalked away.

  Raul waited another minute before he reached back and touched Fahim’s hand then jutted his chin in the direction Ethan and Bob had taken. They kept to the lower level, moving silently from one cell to the next, pausing to be sure no one was following or waiting to ambush them. Raul’s other sock was shredded into tiny strands and scattered around to further cover their trail.

  Fahim grabbed up a handful of the sock threads and winked. In the next instant he was a whiff of vaper. Raul watched as little bits of his sock appeared here and there, tucked into corners and under stairs. Eventually Fahim disappeared from sight but he was back, standing beside Raul in less than ten minutes.

  “Now your little threads are spread out,” Fahim said.