by LE Barbant
“Are you crazy? That’s the only thing I’m definitely not going to tell them.”
“But they might be able to help. You know, make it right. They might know about it.”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I do this stuff for a living.”
“What, manipulate people?” Paul asked.
Rhett laughed. “It’s a fine line between manipulation and influence. That’s what they call leadership these days.” Rhett paused trying to answer nature’s call. “Paul?”
“Yeah?”
“It seems like the plumbing’s not working with you standing over my shoulder. Can you give me a minute?”
“Not like the old days of sword fighting, hmmm?” He laughed. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Paul disappeared and immediately Rhett started to pee.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Being close to Willa felt electric. Elijah didn’t realize exactly how much he’d missed her until he saw her standing in his living room. He stepped away, angry at himself for feeling so drawn.
Willa was complicated.
He and the poet together made for complication times ten. Over the past several months his resentment toward her grew. While he focused on settling in, laying roots in Pittsburgh, she ran. She’d convinced him that his powers were a gift to be stewarded for good; now she was bent solely on vengeance—on her own desires. But he couldn’t stay angry. Whatever it was, his connection with the woman remained strong.
It didn’t help that she looked good.
Really good.
Chem stood over Tim, who had all but passed out on the couch. Elijah assumed it was from the pain. His own body ached. As his skin cooled down, the throbbing increased. He wouldn’t have stood a chance without his powers. Ford was truly an impressive specimen.
Elijah pointed toward the occupied bathroom. “Willa, who is this guy?”
Her eyebrows came together, forming a V over her nose. “He’s the Mayor’s speechwriter. I ran into him on a mission.”
“Mission?” Chem said over his shoulder.
“It’s a long story,” she said in Chem’s direction. “But he’s a friend of mine—well, sort of. I told him about you and me, about our powers.”
“What? How long have you known this guy?”
Willa paused. A weird look passed across her face. “I…I met him this afternoon.”
“Dammit, Willa! How could you be so stupid?” Elijah ran a hand through his graying hair as he began pacing the room.
Willa sat down on the arm of a chair. She looked like she was going to be sick. “I don’t know. He seemed so trustworthy.”
“OK, where are we?” The stranger walked back into the room, slamming the brakes on the conversation.
Elijah stormed across the room and pushed Rhett up against the wall. “We’re at the part where you tell us who the hell you are and what you’re doing here.”
Willa leapt across the room and grabbed Elijah’s shoulder. “Don’t hurt him.”
“You don’t even know this guy, Willa. He could have led those things right to our door.”
The man smiled. “It’s not her fault. Please, I can explain everything.”
Elijah held on for a second, before letting go of the newcomer’s suit jacket. He returned to pacing the room.
Rhett calmly found a seat and crossed his right leg over his left, like he was joining a casual conversation among friends.
“I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you, Willa. You see, I knew about your powers, because I have abilities of my own.”
Willa sat on the couch, her orange cat content in her lap. Elijah wondered why she was so unfazed.
“While I can’t crush cars or cast spells, my powers exist up here.” The man tapped his temple. “I can…persuade people.”
Elijah looked back at Willa. The serenity slowly drained from her face. It was replaced by another emotion he had seen only once before. Hatred filled her eyes.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
Rhett sighed and looked away from the poet. It was the first sign of discomfort Elijah had seen in him since his arrival.
“Let’s just say that I’m convincing. People tend to do what I want.”
Chem took a step back from the man. “Are you talking about mind control?”
“Not exactly. I can’t take away anyone’s choice. But I can play with their emotions, help them choose what I want. It’s like smiling or giving a firm handshake or making eye contact. These things actually affect people’s brain chemistry, make them more agreeable to what you’re proposing. You all do it every day. I just do it better.”
“But why? What’s the point of all this?”
“You should really talk to my brother about that.” Rhett looked around as if expecting someone to be there. The others also searched the room. “I guess I’ll have to give a try at explaining it. My twin brother, Paul, has a gift too. Whereas I can push on the world, influence people to listen to me, Paul is drawn to it in strange ways.”
“Drawn?” Elijah asked.
The man leaned back and crossed his legs. “Yeah, it’s hard to explain, but I guess most of our…eccentricities are, right? For years, Paul has gotten these inclinations, intuitions, really, about where we ought to be in the world. He doesn’t always know why, but he feels pulled toward certain places or people. In February, I was working in D.C. when someone sent us a grainy YouTube video of a large fiery monster tearing up Pittsburgh. Sound familiar?” He glared at Elijah, a half-smile traced across his lips.
“I laughed it off as a hoax, but Paul was convinced that it was a sign. That we needed to come here. That it was our destiny. This might seem crazy, but we were all drawn here in some way, right?”
Though his question was rhetorical, he gave them some time to mull it over.
“Look, as much as I’m loving your family history, we’ve got bigger problems.” Chem crossed his arms. “C-3PO and R2-D2 kicked our asses out there. Who the hell are those guys?”
“Well, I guess it explains all the recent ‘monster’ sightings.” Elijah said. “But why? What’s their plan?”
“I’m more worried about what they’re gonna do next time. Rita’s captured, your powers are only a fraction of what they used to be.” Chem uncrossed his arms and pointed at Tim, who was still lying unconscious on the bed. “And in my medical opinion, Ford’s fighting days are behind him. Unless Professor X here feels like sweet-talking them, we’re toast if they show up again.” He placed his hands behind his neck. “And I don’t need any special inclinations to tell me that they’re not done yet.”
Elijah stood in silence. Chem was right. Their situation seemed hopeless. He looked down at the broken man in front of him wishing there was some way he could help.
Tim had been hurt defending the city that he loved.
It reminded Elijah of Brooke, and a sick thought came to his mind.
“What about my blood?”
They stared at the historian like he had just proposed sacrificing a goat to the gods.
“Elijah…” Willa started to say before being cut off.
“Chem, you’ve been working on that serum of yours for months. You have to have made some progress by now.”
The chemist shook his head. He lacked any of his usual confidence. “It’s impossible, Elijah, at least for me. I’ve tried everything, but I’m as far from understanding it now as I was when I started. I can’t make it work…unless…”
The chemist looked directly at Willa. Cat jumped to the floor as she rose from her chair. “What can I do?”
****
Chem and Willa headed for the basement, which left Elijah standing, accompanied only by Tim, who remained unconscious, and Rhett, who sat easily in their worn-out leather recliner. Cat made himself at home on Rhett’s lap.
For some reason, that made Elijah madder than anything else that had happened today.
“You’re gonna burn a hole in the floo
r if you keep pacing like that,” Rhett said, deeply petting the orange feline.
Elijah realized he was pacing and moved to sit, but then suspicion halted him in his tracks.
“How do I know you’re not mind-controlling me?”
Rhett rolled his eyes, the gesture accentuated by his perfectly shaped eyebrows.
“I told you it’s not mind control. And you’re on guard, which severely hampers my abilities. I didn’t mention it at first, but by explaining myself, I cut my knees out from under me…supernaturally speaking. Your poet friend, for example, she’ll never trust me again, which means I can’t influence her—at least not much. It’s the biggest difference between Paul’s and my abilities. Once I prove what I can do to someone, I can pretty much never do it again. Once he demonstrates his insights, it’s hard to ignore future warnings.”
Rhett watched the cat lick its paws. Elijah wondered who these brothers really were. Something didn’t add up, and Elijah assumed part of the story was left untold. The historian moved to sit, still worried that Rhett had used some sort of reverse psychology voodoo to manipulate him.
“You keep mentioning your brother’s foresight. Could he help us figure out what to do next?”
“I wish it were that simple. His insights are sporadic and woefully vague. When he talks, it’s like listening to an artist explain a project before they’ve started. To the untrained ear it makes no sense. But once you see it for yourself, everything clicks into place.”
“Like the allegory of the cave.”
Rhett snapped his fingers, making the cat jump. “That’s exactly what it’s like. Plato had my brother in mind when he told that story. Paul’s been to the other side, he’s seen the light. And you and I are chained in the basement, trying to make sense of his ravings. He sounds like a fool, but we’re the fools if we ignore him. You have siblings, Elijah?”
“Yeah, a sister. Don’t see her much. She lives in Des Moines.”
Rhett smiled and leaned toward the historian. “How would you feel if she was always right?”
Elijah laughed, and then regretted it. “She always thinks she is.”
“Well, my brother always is.”
Elijah caught something wash across the man’s face, but he couldn’t place the emotion. “I wish he could shed some light on our current predicament. These guys have wreaked havoc on my neighborhood, and now they have our friend. I don’t know who they are or what they’re up to, but we have to stop them.”
A buzzing sound interrupted Elijah. Rhett pulled an iPhone out of his tailored pants.
“Shit,” he said, looking at the screen. “It may already be too late.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“I’m glad you’re back,” Chem said, not looking up from the desk. “At least in body.”
He laid out vials and an assortment of bottles that Willa vaguely remembered from high school chemistry, though she couldn’t name them if she tried.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know. You’re here, but not really. I can see it in your eyes. You’re on a mission that transcends all else. Hell, I mean I don’t care. Nobody’s going to confuse me for the Good Samaritan.”
Willa dragged a stool to the table, giving Chem enough room to work his magic. “I’m here. But I need to make some things right first.” She felt her chest and throat constrict. “They took everything from me, Percy. Those people need to pay,” she croaked, holding back tears.
Chem gently placed the beaker on the table. The severity in his eyes seemed so out of place. “I know you believe that. But say you settle the score—take these guys out. It won’t bring your family back.”
“Might not bring them back, but I’ll feel better.” Forcing a smile, she said, “I’ll be OK. But it’s good to see you. I’ve missed you guys. Now, what the hell is going on down here?”
Chem turned back to the tools of his trade. “I’ll lay it out in freshman chemistry terms. Try to keep up, OK?”
“You’re still an ass.”
“Thanks.” He grinned. “So, we know that my enhancement of E’s blood works, but it works a little too good.”
“Well.”
“Bite me.” Chem laughed. “It works too well. The stuff turned Elijah’s little hottie into a badass bitch.”
Willa’s stomach churned at the mention of Brooke Alarawn.
Chem continued. “But it obviously messed with her mind as well. Elijah had his ‘passenger,’ or whatever he calls it, to help him, but the transformation is too much for the average human. So I figured, if we could reduce the power, maybe we could still use my serum to increase strength without it going full-on Hulk. I was working with benzene. Just think of that as an additive that will allow the catalyst, but hold back the crazy bitch shit. But once I started introducing the stabilizer, it ruined the change element. I can’t have one without the other, but if I have both, I got nothing…have nothing.”
“You need the compound to make someone super, but not super-crazy.”
“A+, young lady.” Chem scratched his days’ worth of scruff. He looked different. Lines around his eyes seemed to have deepened since she had seen him last. His new life was taking a toll. This was a new normal. “I’m at a roadblock. I’ve tried all sorts of shit, but I can’t get these little guys to turn without going all crazy.” Chem nodded to a cage with two fat rats lounging in the corner.
“Hold on. You’re making molten metal mice?”
Chem chuckled. It was good to hear him laugh. “Nah. The compound from Elijah’s blood doesn’t work like that. I’m not sure, but it’s like McDonald’s.”
“McDonald’s?”
“Yeah, you know, ‘you want to super-size that?’ This stuff takes a thing’s propensity and makes it, well, super.”
“So why is Elijah a metal fire monster?”
“You gotta remember, he didn’t start with any injection, he was—well, we’re not really sure what happened to him yet. But Elijah’s one of a kind. The compound made from his blood doesn’t make a thing into him, but it enhances propensities unique to the host. Weird, right?”
“Very weird. So, what are you trying next? I mean, for a stabilizer?”
“You.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know you haven’t just been working on those guns all summer.” Chem nodded at the lean, muscular arms exposed by Willa’s tank top. “Nice, by the way. Do you have a spell that can effectively calm someone down?”
“That was one of my first. A simple one.”
“Well, I’m thinking maybe you can apply that to my compound. It’ll become the stabilizing agent in this little brew here.” Chem tapped the glass with the end of his pen.
“I don’t know, Percy. I usually only use my spells on people.”
“But is there anything that says you couldn’t?”
Willa smiled. “I’m sure the Guild would have something to say about that, but they’ve all but left me alone so far.”
“The Guild?”
“It’s kind of like the American Medical Association, but for magicians. We have rules, you know, and they’re a bit more stringent than the Hippocratic Oath.”
“I’m not exactly on the AMA’s Christmas card list.” An authentic smile spread across Chem’s face. “Listen, we need that half-dead guy on the couch upstairs. And frankly, I think he needs us. He shouldn’t have been fighting in the first place—I’m surprised that rabid trashcan on steroids didn’t finish him off. The thing about Elijah’s blood is that it not only makes him into a metal monster, it also sustains him. Sure, he’s beat up, but not as bad as he should be.”
“So, you’re thinking if we can get the compound right it could actually work to heal your friend.”
“That’s right—with potential side benefits.”
Willa inspected the fluid in the glass containers. She found it hard to believe that something so powerful could look so mundane. “I think I have the perfect spell. Let’s try it. What could it hurt?”
“Well, for one, Tim. And if he changes and goes ape-shit, us. But other than that, nothing. We’ll try a small dose first.”
Chem filled a syringe. He held it up to the light, peering through it. “I did dilute it for this mix. Even if he isn’t stable, it won’t have the same effects as it had on Brooke. It’ll just make him a little crazy.”
“Not sure if that’s comforting.” Willa took the vial. Her training these last few months took her down darker paths than she had previously traveled. And that brought her into contact with spells her grandfather would have heartily disapproved of. His posthumous criticism, and the fact that it was a rogue serum like this one that led to his death, should have given Willa pause. But her mind was focused on one thing. And if Chem’s abomination and the broken man upstairs could help her achieve vengeance she was willing to try it.
She closed her eyes, and started chanting—focusing the words toward the liquid. She felt out of sorts, directing a spell at an inanimate object, but anger gave her confidence. Her attunement toward the spell meant everything.
“Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of a newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.”
Willa opened her eyes. There was no visible change in the liquid, but the poet felt power coming out of her.
She knew that it had worked.
“Done,” she said. “Just one problem. Spellcraft is a temporary affair. You’re going to have to make more of this stuff. I mean, I’m not sure what it does to physical things that aren’t human, but that spell would only work on you for thirty minutes, maybe an hour.”
Chem nodded, then looked at the syringe. “Damn. Would it help if I added some eye of newt?”
“Funny. Now let’s see what happens up there.” She nodded toward the stairs.