Jawbreaker (Four Point Universe Book 14)

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Jawbreaker (Four Point Universe Book 14) Page 2

by Max Ellendale


  I rolled my eyes at her. "Fine. As long as it's a female lead."

  "Done, girl. Done. And to boot, let's make it a hot female lead. Wondergirl it is."

  "Remember when she used to be Wonder Woman?"

  "Hey, I support character evolution when they get sexier."

  "I'm telling your wife."

  "She agrees with me."

  "Argh. Shut up and pass the spanakopita." I wiggled my fingers at her and she gave in to me.

  "Fine. But we're watching Wondergirl."

  "Fine."

  "Fine."

  "Fine!"

  Chapter Two

  "Papers due by midterms without exceptions, save for legitimate doctor notes." I turned around to face my final class of the day. "I don't want to hear about your alien-hybrid domesticated pets eating your laptops again."

  The class chuckled while packing up their gear to head out. I leaned against my desk, watching them go. I never knew the origin stories of my students unless they cared to volunteer such. Not all of them belonged to the human race, not all of them possessed alien DNA, and some of them harbored both. It didn't matter, in the long run, but for many of the citizens of this planet, it became the only thing that mattered. The hyper-obsession with aliens, immigrants, refugees, and beings with skin tone a grade above pale sat at the helm of the universe's largest battles. On Earth, it wasn't any different, except the people here hid behind their faith or religions like a shield deflecting responsibility. Centuries later, that never changed.

  They didn't speak for all of us, and yet their voices were sometimes the loudest. I packed up my bag and tossed the strap over my shoulder before heading out into the evening air. Thursdays at the University of Washington meant almost as much to me as it did the students. Thirsty Thursdays, as they called it, was their favorite night to go bar hopping around town. This tradition, from my understanding, went back to sometime in the nineteen-nineties, maybe further. Regardless, we respected the convention for time immemorial as a rite of passage for all college students.

  Fortunately, it didn't make its way into any history books. Not much did, I learned, especially in the older versions of texts I collected. They left out heaps of facts, and one of my favorite pastimes belonged to pointing them out.

  A scream met my ears the second I stepped onto the sidewalk outside my office. I saw nothing and no one and closed my eyes to focus on the sounds around me. Filtering was never my strong point, and instead of being able to pinpoint follow up shouts, the traffic sounds inundated me. I drew in a slow breath, fighting the urge to cover my ears. I opened my eyes again, slowing my breathing to keep myself calm. Papers rustled to my left, and the crunch of shoes on gravel sprang from my right. I moved toward the sounds of the papers, only to find a woman chasing documents escaping on the breeze.

  I snatched two out of the air, my fingers snapping shut before I could even think about it. I repeated the task four more times until I came to stand beside the woman crouched next to an open briefcase.

  "Here you go," I said, bending down to hold the pages out to her.

  "Oh," she chirped, a smile making it to her lips when she met my gaze. "Thank you."

  My stomach flip-flopped when I recognized the dark-haired woman from the museum a few days prior. Her gaze flickered over my face as we stood up together.

  "You're welcome," I said, offering her a nod.

  In the daylight, she appeared less lethal without a gun pointed at my face and clad in a casual pair of cargo pants, hiking boots, and a T-shirt with cuffed sleeves. She seemed ready for an expedition to dig up some bones rather than a visit to the university. She tucked her hair behind her ear before patting the now closed briefcase at her hip.

  "There's a reason why people shouldn't use these anymore. You've got the right idea." She motioned to my satchel strapped around my body. "I should invest."

  "Yeah." I smirked and mimicked her pat. "A good companion. Paper is also equally rare."

  "Are you headed this way?" She motioned toward the exit of this portion of the campus.

  "I am, actually…"

  "Great. You've proven to be a good backup in the event of calamity." She tossed me a smile over her shoulder when she made it a few paces a head. "I'm Harlow."

  "Veyda." I gulped down the anxiety that learning her name brought up. Harlow, the gun-toting museum curator, didn't seem to fit her description entirely. "Do you work here?"

  "I don't. I work at the art museum. I was dropping off some samples to a connection in the archeology department. I'm needing some accurate dating on a few artifacts. Do you work here?"

  "I do. I teach history to undergrads. It's glamorous to say the least."

  "I bet." She chuckled, shaking her head before again tucking her hair behind her ear. "Do you enjoy it?"

  "Most days. I enjoy the history part the most. Turns out, not much you can do with a doctorate in history."

  "Well, you could be a museum curator." She lifted her palm upward and shrugged, a chuckle accompanying it. "Except my degrees are in art history and archeology respectively."

  "Ah." I smirked and tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "Makes sense."

  "Sure does." She paused when we made it to the corner that split the street into four directions. "I'm headed this way," she said, pointing toward the pharmacy on the corner.

  "This is where we part." I chuckled and nodded to my left. "I'm up this way. Nice meeting you, Museum Curator Harlow."

  "You, too, History Professor Veyda." She walked backward a few steps, before taking a playfully dramatic bow. "Au revoir."

  I laughed as I watched her go. This version of the woman who threatened my life—sorta—became much easier to swallow. "Bye."

  I turned on my heel and whipped out my phone to send a text message off to Nalea.

  Heard a scream by the university. Anything called in?

  Not a thing. Working on a missing person case at the moment. I'll send you a picture just in case.

  On it. Headed home.

  Audra's there. Check on her for me? She seemed tired today.

  I will.

  Thanks.

  On the twenty-minute walk back to our apartment, I considered why I bothered to walk at all. I didn't have to, by any means. I could easily call the wind to take me for a ride or run and cut out two-thirds of the time. Instead, I chose to do what I was taught to do—blend in. It worked for me, gave me a life like everyone else. Jobs, a career, relationships sometimes. Hardly ever, but sometimes. I never could push myself beyond the emotional boundaries drawn between my two lives. Infiltrating the saturated minds of young adults by day, fighting crime by night didn't make for the best opening for a dating website, or even a curriculum vitae for friendship.

  I found Audra napping on the sofa when I sauntered in the front door and set my keys on the half-moon table beside it. I hung my jacket on the hook next to my bag and tiptoed over to her. Her soft breathing told me she wasn't exactly asleep, and so I crouched beside her, my attention lingering on her rounded belly. She rested her hand on top of it while she dozed, though a smile curved her lips a moment after I noticed.

  "You're listening to her," she said, her voice groggy.

  "I am." I smiled and brushed my knuckle over her hand. "Soon. Her head is facing down."

  "You can see that?" Her eyes shot open and she met my gaze.

  "No." I chuckled, shaking my head. "I can hear her kicking and see the faint movement here." I drew a circle around the upper left side of her belly. "There."

  "Yeah." Audra grinned then stifled a yawn. "She's beating up my ribs. And my bladder, to be fair."

  "We'll meet her soon." I smiled and caressed the curve of her stomach.

  "She hears you. I can tell." Audra gave my hair the faintest tug. "She's going to love yanking all this red hair out of your scalp. It'll be much harder to tear out her Mommy's braids and I've got nothing to tear." She grinned and messed up her short curls. "So, it's all you, Auntie Veyda."


  I smiled while thinking about the little girl that would soon fill our lives. The coos and grunts that would awaken the quiet spaces. The cries and demands that would interrupt the easy ones. I looked forward to all of it, but mostly, I looked forward to seeing my two best friends happy.

  "I can't wait to meet her." My damp lashes fluttered, and I chuckled to hide my sniffle. "Sorry. It makes me emotional."

  "Don't cry, Vey." Audra's voice cracked. "Or I'll cry, too. Now I'm crying," she wailed, followed by a laugh that turned both of us into teary giggles. She held her arms open to me, and I leaned in to hug her.

  I squeezed her, and she rubbed my back in soft circles. Goosebumps coated my skin before we leaned back. She smiled and we both swiped at each other's cheeks.

  "Too tight?" she asked, rubbing my forearms affectionately. "Did I hurt you?"

  "No." I smiled and leaned back on my heels. "I'm good."

  Her gaze flickered back and forth between mine.

  "What?" I tilted my head, and she gave my hand a squeeze.

  "I don't like when you're wearing contacts, it…" She paused, seeming to search for the word. "Dims your energy? Or something. It's like I can't really see you. Like you're behind a two-way mirror or something."

  I tilted my head forward, then quickly swiped the contacts from my eyes. They tumbled into my hand, and I blinked away the dampness before meeting her gaze again. "Better?"

  "Yes." She smiled and rested her head back on the cushion. "Everything you are is in your eyes. Even Nalea says it."

  "My one visible Hybridian trait." My attention wandered to her belly again. "I wonder what I looked like to my father when I was born… I always wondered what he thought when he saw my eyes."

  "Mesmerized, if you ask me." She rubbed her belly in slow circles. "We considered it, you know. Accepting DNA from a Hybridian donor. But the risks…"

  "I know. Not all alien DNA is compatible with human."

  "Too bad you don't have any sperm to share without genome imprinting." She pouted at me. "She could've had your eyes. Lavender highlighted with lilac, shimmering and alluring."

  "You flatter me, wife of bestie number one." I let out a dramatic sigh. "Good thing you're bestie number two."

  "I better be." She pretended to punch my arm but never made contact. "Or else."

  I narrowed my eyes at her. "Yeah, yeah. Are you hungry? I'm starving."

  "Always." She attempted to sit up and I supported her in doing so. "I had some groceries delivered earlier today. The delivery drone was an hour early so I stole a nap. I'm in the mood for chicken nuggets and frozen pizza, for some ridiculous reason."

  "I think it's the baby's fault. She's preparing for toddlerhood when she will refuse to eat everything except that and mac and cheese." I helped her up, and she waddled ahead of me into the kitchen. The sound of her overworked heart met my ears and I urged her to sit at the island counter. "Rest. I got it. When did you see the doctor?"

  "Yesterday." She narrowed her eyes at me and grunted when she pushed herself up to sit, then shivered. "Why?"

  "I think…you're going to pop soon." I plucked the goodies from the freezer and set my intentions on preparing the sustenance of her cravings. "Your heartbeat is faster, and you shivered despite the fact it's overly warm in here."

  "Hmm. Maybe." She yawned again then propped her chin on her hand. "Any plans tonight?"

  "Was going to stay in and stare at the television, but something tells me I should be out and about tonight. So, after we gorge ourselves on kid snacks, I'll head out for a bit. Nalea should be home soon. When does your parental leave start?" I poured out the meatless chicken nuggets on a cookie sheet and set it in the oven beside the pizza.

  "I'm done Friday, thankfully. Can't wait to leave those whiney little shits behind for a few months while I deal with my own whiney little shit." She chuckled and watched me as I shifted about the kitchen. "What superheroing instincts tell you that you should be out tonight?"

  "Not sure. Just the energy. I heard a scream by the university tonight, but it could've been anything. Might be a nothing."

  "Knowing you, it's a something."

  "Yeah." I smirked and leaned my elbows on the counter while watching her. "Helping people makes me feel…" I searched for the word while blowing my bangs from my face. "Useful."

  "Veyda…your use is not measured by how many people you help or don't help," she said, her brow furrowing. "Do you feel not useful?"

  "Sometimes. I mean, my mom was a literal Elite Soldier. My dad was a scientist who pioneered the use of alien DNA for treatments of human diseases. I just…teach unwilling young adults the history of our planet, most of which consists of deprogramming the white-washed, edited, and redacted portions they learned in primary and secondary school. I'm a youth deprogrammer."

  "So am I, girl. So am I. But Veyda…" She took both of my hands in hers. "Comparing yourself to your parents—to anyone—is a toxic cocktail for your psyche."

  "I know. Can't help it sometimes."

  The front door opened, and Nalea swung in, clapping her hands when she saw us. "Oh, damn. I knew my girls would be cookin' me up some goodies."

  "Exactly no goodies were prepared on your behalf," retorted Audra. "They're all for me." Her bottom lip poked out in a pout. "You've been gone too long. Cuddle me now."

  Nalea's eyes widened as she looked between us like the emotional whiplash knocked her off her game. I laughed at them, then swung around to remove some dishes and utensils from the cabinets.

  "Better soothe your honey, Nae. Otherwise, you're in trouble," I teased.

  "What? Are you too good to soothe my honey?" Nalea wrapped her arms around Audra and immediately, they melted into each other.

  Their silliness faded into a warm greeting, coupled with a kiss and tender face touches. I smiled at them, envisioning what they would look like with their daughter between them soon. I glanced to Audra's belly, focusing again on the way her tight shirt moved with the baby's faint shifting. Three separate heartbeats joined me in the room and knowing that made me smile.

  "She's been listening to the baby all afternoon," Audra whispered to Nalea.

  "Veyda is our own personal baby monitor." Nalea kissed her cheek. "What can I get you to drink, honey?"

  "Something warm, please." Audra's smile broadened to a content one now that Nalea joined us.

  We spent some time catching up as we often did when work ended for each of us on time, and I plated up the nuggets while Audra recounted some of her experiences of parent-teacher conferences she suffered earlier this week. The pizza followed, and the three of us settled down to eat.

  The moment I bit into the pizza, my stomach lurched, and I spat it back out on the plate. I frowned at it while examining the triangle pinched between my fingers.

  "Is this the same as usual?" I asked, glancing between them while they ate without complaint.

  Both of them watched me, unmoved while continuing to eat.

  "It's the same brand," answered Audra. "Yummy."

  I shook my head and set the slice down. "It's different. I think there is another cheese on it."

  "Literally going to just go ahead and agree with you because you're probably right," said Nalea. "Knowing you, Picky McPickerson."

  I scrunched my nose at her then plucked a nugget from the tray and tore off a bite. "These are normal."

  "Good." Nalea nodded, then lifted her pizza in salute. "Eat 'em."

  "At least we've been in training for a picky eater if we birth one," added Audra.

  "I've been in training my whole life for your child," I piped up after my fifth nugget. "I need to head out. Something feels weird."

  "What feels weird?" Nalea's brow crinkled when she asked.

  "I'm not sure." I brushed off my fingers then headed to my room. "Something feels weird. Be right back."

  "She said that before," Audra told Nalea.

  I closed my door, but listened in on their conversation anyway while changing. My pulse pick
ed up, like it usually did before stepping into a questionable situation, but tonight I didn't have a clue as to what it was. I pulled on my old shiny black Doc Martens, black jeans, and the matching hoodie before pulling my hair back into a ponytail. I made sure to tuck my hair into my shirt, or conceal it in the hood of my jacket.

  "She seems unsettled lately," Nalea said, her tone laden with concern.

  "I know." A soft thwap followed. "Don't talk about Veyda when she can hear you."

  "I can hear you," I called out and they laughed.

  "See?"

  "I wouldn't say anything to you that I wouldn't say to her face."

  "That's the problem."

  I chuckled at them, then tugged on my hat before snagging my mask from the nightstand. In my own space, comfortable for just me, I turned in a circle to survey the damage. I definitely needed to do laundry, and perhaps put some of it away. Thirty-somethings should have neater rooms, shouldn't they? None of that mattered in the long run though.

  I returned to the kitchen, then made my way over to the window that led to the fire escape. Before I even opened it, the shadows swirled around me when I willed them, rendering portions of me more difficult to see. Audra's gaze flickered left and right, but Nalea watched me with ease.

  "Call me if you need me," she said.

  "Stay home with the woman carrying your child, would ya?" I smiled before applying the mask. "Later."

  Audra shivered. "Uck. I hate that sound it makes. It's creepy."

  "I know." I chuckled, allowing the mask to distort that sound, too. "I like creepy. Bye."

  "Be safe!" called Nalea.

  I lunged off the fire escape as a flashing vision of Spiderman flittered across my mind's eye. My ability to soar through the skies wasn't nearly as graceful as his. I required air to cushion my flight and my falls, whereas he tumbled gracefully while tangling from silky webs.

  My slow descent on the gust of wind that I conjured around me dropped me off a few feet from the ground to land in a catlike crouch. My glove-covered fist hit the pavement to steady myself. Soundless and agile I could do. Swinging from webs…nah.

 

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