by Eve Langlais
“Why, Adrian, are you flirting with me?” She winked. “I’d better go before he comes back beating his chest. Thank you for the dance.” She leaned down and, before he could grasp her intent, kissed his cheek.
He sat there stunned. Benedict’s glower had no power to remove his euphoric state.
She kissed me.
And then she went to slow dance with another guy, who seemed determined to show the world she was his. His hands were less than discreet. The kissing X-rated. When Adrian could no longer stand watching, he exited the ballroom—which, on a daily basis, served as the community center. A cheaper alternative to the expensive hotel options in the city.
His foster father had said to call when he needed a ride, but Adrian wanted some quiet time to himself. He quickly left the raucous boom boom of the music behind, the only sound the whir of the motor in his wheelchair.
And footsteps.
Possibly just another person going home.
But by the pit in his stomach, he knew. Knew even before the drawled, “Oh, Wheelie. I think you forgot something.”
Adrian knew he wouldn’t have the speed, but he tried to move faster anyhow. It just wasn’t enough to escape. Benedict sprang in front of him, bumping his chair. “Leaving so soon, Wheelie? I thought you’d try and stick around, maybe cop another feel of my girlfriend.”
“I didn’t touch her.”
“But you wanted to.”
Yes. Yes, he did. Instead Adrian blurted out, “You don’t deserve her.”
“And you do?” Benedict laughed. “Jane doesn’t need a cripple. She wants a man.” He grabbed his crotch.
“If she wants a man, then what is she doing with you?” It was like taunting a bull. But Adrian didn’t care.
“Little fucker.” He was hauled out of his chair by the hands gripping his coat. Benedict didn’t hit him though. “Think you’re so tough. Let’s see you get up.” Adrian found himself propelled to the ground, barely having time to put out his hands.
He still hit hard, smacking his face on the pavement. The pain radiated immediately, but Benedict wasn’t done. He rolled Adrian over and began tearing at him. Not hitting but going through his pockets until he found what he was looking for.
Adrian’s stash of meds.
“Now we’ve got a party.” Benedict shook the bottle. “Happy graduation, motherfucker!”
It occurred to Adrian he could tell Benedict those weren’t opioids he’d stolen but some newly prescribed medication—with a stern warning to avoid alcohol–to help him handle the seizures. But as he crawled to his chair, watching Benedict’s strut, he kept that knowledge to himself.
I hope that bastard ends up drooling in a hospital. It would serve him right.
Only a few days later, when he heard the story of what happened to Benedict and Jane, did he wish he’d acted differently.
“I should have said something instead of letting him walk away with my seizure meds thinking they were opioids.”
Jane had barely blinked while he told his story, the basic parts at any rate. She didn’t need to know about his boner when she’d sat on him.
“You killed Benedict,” she muttered.
“Not intentionally.”
“You killed him, and almost killed me,” she seethed, her eyes beginning to glow.
“I didn’t know you’d take the drugs, too.” He never ever would have thought that Jane would pop them. Or take them with alcohol. When he’d found out, he was horrified. And scared, convinced the cops would appear at any moment to arrest him. Surely, they’d recovered his pill bottle?
But as the days then weeks passed, and summer marched into fall, no one came, and Adrian went off to school.
And became the man he was today.
Slap. “Because of you I spent twenty years in a coma!” she shrieked. The heat of her rage surely left an imprint on his cheek.
“I’m sorry.” The only thing left to say.
“Sorry doesn’t give me back my life!” She stalked to the sliding glass door. “Open it.”
“Jane.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me right now. I am so mad.”
He could tell. She literally smoked.
“I’ve been trying to make amends.”
“How? By experimenting on me?” she spat. “Making me into some monster thing?”
“You’re not a monster.”
“Says the mad scientist who created me,” she mocked.
“You forget, I gave the cure to myself first.”
“But did you lose the best years of your life? Did you get to go to college? Date? Get drunk legally when you turned twenty-one? I didn’t. Nor was I there when my parents died. I missed everything.”
“You have a second chance now. I’ll set you up with money. You can do—”
She slashed her hand through the air. “I don’t want anything from you.” She turned from him and placed her hands on the glass. Even from where he sat, he could feel the heat, see it as glass rippled and melted.
She shoved through it as if it were taffy and in moments was gone.
Taking his only hope of sanity and happiness with her.
Chapter Fifteen
He stole my life!
The truth hit Jane like a bomb. Exploding her mind. Shattering it. And Jane had to escape. Had to run from the man lest she kill him.
She barely grasped how she managed to get out of the house. Rage heated her and helped her find a way. Soon she was running in the forest, her body a flaming brand of betrayal and hurt. It was a miracle she didn’t start any fires in her passage.
When she finally stopped her mad dash, she had to pull tight all that lovely heat. Yank it close lest she ignite the brittle pile of leaves at her feet. She slumped to the ground, hugging her knees, rocking.
Remembering that night.
“Come on, Janey. Don’t be such a goody two shoes. Have fun for once.”
“I am having fun.” She held up the flask and took a sip of the burning liquid. She wheezed as it scorched its way to her stomach, spreading a warmth that made her giggle.
“But you could be having more fun.” He held up the white pill. “Two of these, and you’ll be humming.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Lighten up, Janey. It’s prom.”
It was prom. One of the last nights she’d have as a kid. One of the last with Benedict before she told him they were breaking up.
“Okay.” Just this one time.
The last thing she ever did as a teenager. The stupid act that led to her being a prisoner in her own mind for twenty years.
She’d be dead or in a coma still, if Adrian hadn’t saved her.
He used me.
Saved me.
She couldn’t help but remember how he’d gone out of his way not to take advantage. She was the one who kept throwing herself at him. And he kept shoving her away.
At least now she understood why, and it had nothing to do with his crappy excuse of doctor and patient not getting involved.
He feels guilty.
He was the reason she’d overdosed. He knew those pills were dangerous and never warned Benedict. But he wasn’t the one who shoved them down her throat.
If she was going to hand out responsibility, then she needed to take some because no one forced her to do drugs. Benedict and others had asked her many times before, and she’d said no. Always said no. Except that one time.
The fact Adrian kept his mouth shut about their possible deadly effect was shocking, but not entirely surprising. She remembered how Benedict used to torture him. It was cruel and unnecessary. While she stepped in a few times, she only did so in front of Adrian. Out of sight, she was part of the problem, keeping her mouth shut. Sometimes even laughing at a rude imitation of a boy who never asked to be sick.
A boy who’d grown up to be a man. Handsome. Arrogant, yet with a core of vulnerability and a hint of wild. She could see it every now and then in his eyes, a barely contained primal nature. Because he�
�d cured himself using the same kind of weird DNA twisting as he’d done with her.
He was the reason she got a second chance at life, and while she could blame him for the pills, what would that accomplish? She could have just as easily been killed with Benedict behind the wheel. How many times had she let him drive her home high or drunk?
Letting her anger go, though, meant realizing she’d fled to the woods with only the clothes on her back.
She sighed as she sat on a fallen tree trunk. Now what?
There was no question Adrian would accept her back. He felt as if he owed her. But she didn’t want his remorse. Nor did she want to paint the walls with his blood anymore.
Then what do I want?
Her body knew. It craved his touch.
Stop thinking like that. He’s the enemy. The insidious voice in her head sounded so annoyed.
Which was weird because she’d long ago stopped thinking of Adrian as the bad guy.
If he’s so good, then why are his ex-patients trying to kill him?
Because it could be confusing going from one state to another.
Stop making excuses for him. He deserves whatever fate those who hate him mete out.
Perhaps he did. But she wasn’t one of them.
You’re confused.
Maybe. She’d recently come out of a coma. She was different on a level human doctors could never comprehend. Who else could help her if she ran into trouble?
There are those out there you could join.
Like the shadow on the rooftop? The one who’d sent her in this direction looking for Adrian.
The question was, why?
The shadow did you a favor.
By sending her to the one man who could disarm her? A man who, without hesitation, had shot someone who threatened him.
You wanted answers. You got them. Found out he is to blame.
For what? Really, she wanted to know because, while she might have been a little shocked when she first woke, lamenting her state of being, something had changed since then.
For one, she was fully awake now. Fully alive.
Alive and eager to discover. A miracle owed entirely to Adrian.
If not for his pills, you wouldn’t be here.
Blaming the victim? She snorted aloud. That was crazy. She finally recognized that amidst it all. Yes, the pills were Adrian’s, but he never asked to be bullied into giving them up. Didn’t put them in her mouth.
He injected you with something far worse.
Did he? She smiled as she pirouetted in the forest, fingers trailing on the crisp fall leaves barely clinging to branches. They smoked at her passing. “I kind of like what I can do.”
Who didn’t dream of becoming a superhero? The strident screams of the vagrant and his crispy hand flashed in her mind.
You’re no hero.
Okay then, villain. Did it really matter?
You are a freak in the eyes of humans.
The price of uniqueness. She would learn to deal with it. Adrian would help her if she asked.
Speaking of whom…
“Jane?” His voice echoed in the distance, loud and carrying. Stupid, too. Her head came up as she felt a stir in the environment, as if many eyes and ears suddenly took notice of the man that had walked into their midst.
The monsters who didn’t thank him for what he’d done. She could feel their seething anger. Their craving for vengeance, waiting on their chance, and there he was, out here alone looking for her.
“Idiot,” she huffed, while inwardly pleased. She’d half wondered if he would care.
Of course, he cares. He is a scientist. He wants to prod and examine you.
So long as he was naked doing it. For some reason, goading her inner voice into prudish silence amused.
How could two opposing minds live in one head?
Who says it’s two?
Jane ignored the disturbing words as she concentrated on the forest around her. Given her skin prickled, she kept her inner warm core sucked in tight.
“Jane. Are you out here?”
Yes, you idiot. Stop yelling for me. The voice that time was entirely her own.
Did he not grasp how he drew those hunting these woods?
He knows. He doesn’t care because he’s worried about me.
Cared so much he’d probably die.
Unless she saved him.
She paused as she heard rustling. Adrian called again, close enough that she fixed on his voice and sought the shadows to find him. There. By the large fir. Wearing only a linen shirt and looking worried.
He called out. “Jane. Let me know if you’re here.”
Don’t do it. He has a gun.
Once the voice said it, she saw it held loosely at his side, the muzzle pointing down.
She crouched, slowly lest he notice.
Adrian tucked his hands behind his back, hiding the gun, and stood still, head tilted to the side. Almost as if he listened. Perhaps he did. After all, he never did say what his side effects were.
What was he other than a mad scientist who appeared deliciously sexy with his rumpled hair? Although he’d be even sexier with his clothes off. Arousal coursed through her. Twenty years of pent-up frustration’s worth.
A feeling, more than anything else, drew her attention upward. There in the tree towering over Adrian, something moved. A sinuous motion that overlapped many branches at once.
Adrian never looked overhead.
She coiled, ready to pounce.
The thing in the tree dangled down, quietly, arms reaching. Jane pushed with her feet to launch herself and…
Adrian never even looked. Just lifted the gun and fired.
The body fell out of the tree. Jane finished standing and gasped.
“How did you—”
As Adrian turned to look at her, his gaze locking on hers, two more shadows barreled from between trees. One on each side. He could only aim at one.
She ran, knowing she wouldn’t reach him in time. Adrian fired, hitting one of the bodies, leaving himself open for the other one. Before he could whirl, it slammed into him.
They went to the ground in a hard tussle. Shadow battled with darker shade. She could see very little as clouds passed overhead, vanquishing even the slightest hint of starlight.
But she could hear. Snarling. Snapping.
The rustle and breakage of brush. The meaty thump of flesh hitting flesh. The grunts of physical strain.
And I said, let there be light. She raised her hands as her mind did an imitation of a preacher praying. Her hands illuminated in balls of yellow fire. The forest lit, and she saw the strangest thing. A creature, very gorilla-like in the sense of its thick body covered in the darkest of hair. The features still quite human, not simian. But the long arms and bulky muscles, mixed with the slavering teeth, told the true story.
This is what happens when you give in to the voice.
The warning froze her only a second, and then she saw Adrian underneath the monkey man, and the idiot wore a smile.
He turned his head and met her gaze, not paying attention to the real threat. Yet when that gorilla moved, Adrian’s hands rose and held the other’s neck, displaying strength.
Crack.
Ruthlessness, which was even sexier.
Adrian shoved the body off him and rose, brushing his slacks before bending to retrieve the gun.
“You don’t actually need that gun, do you?” she accused.
He checked the slide then removed the cartridge and slammed it back in before answering. “Probably not. But I prefer to cover all the angles. I’ll live longer that way.”
“I highly doubt that. What possessed you to come into the forest? Especially at night.”
“You already know why.”
“I wasn’t in any danger.”
“You think I came to rescue you?” He arched a brow. “I’m fairly certain you can take care of yourself.
Her lips pursed at the unexpected praise. “Apparently not bec
ause I let Benedict talk me into something stupid.”
“One act does not define,” Adrian stated. “Now, a series of events, maybe then you can draw a conclusion.”
“If that’s the case, then, given all the stupid things you’ve done, you’re an idiot.”
“Yes.” He didn’t deny. He did, however, smile, a crooked thing that made her heart pitter-patter faster.
Gag me with a spoon.
“How many of your patients are still running around looking to kill you?”
“Running around, oh about a dozen or so at least. But I don’t think they all want to kill me.”
She glanced at the bodies then back at Adrian pointedly.
He shrugged and offered a sheepish grin. “What can I say? I’m a popular guy.”
She sighed and shook her head, lest she laugh. She knelt beside the gorilla man and perused him more closely.
“He looks like he belongs in a zoo.”
“Now he does, but just a few weeks ago, Gary was able to talk and function just fine.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“He escaped.”
“You saying this happened because he skipped his meds?”
Adrian shook his head. “The actual medicine part is short. It’s the recovery that takes time.”
“How long did it take you?” she asked.
“I’m a bit of a different case,” he said, hedging rather than replying. He knelt by the body of the serpent, more Lamia of legend with a human upper torso.
“Different how? You healed yourself with the same kind of treatment, right?”
“Yes. But at first, I had many different iterations of it.”
“You look fine.”
“For now. But I do have to keep a tight lid on it lest I slip and become something other.”
“I don’t change shapes, I think.” Said with a frown.
His lips hinted of a smile. “No, you don’t. For you, it’s all about shaping heat.”
“Less shape, more just brimming with it.” It sloshed inside, a warm kernel that didn’t mind being pulled out like taffy and molded to her desires.
“But you have to feed it,” he said, placing something on the body before rising.
“Yes, I need heat. Fire works best.” She pointed. “What’s that?”
“GPS locator.”