Forged by Greed

by Angela Orlowski-Peart

  Two middle-aged nurses walked to the door down the hallway. One was petite and mousy-looking, and Jatred knew right away that she was a Summer Shifter. The other nurse—taller, with short curly hair—was human. The Summer Shifter nurse opened the door. Despite the distance, Jatred’s Shifter’s hearing let him catch what the nurse said to someone inside the room. Unmistakably he heard, “Hello, Mrs. Rosewater. Jasmira, I haven’t seen you in ages. You grew so tall.”

  It hit him like a hammer. Jasmira? He felt as if his heart stopped and squeezed itself into his throat. Jasmira! The one that everyone says was my… She? It’s her? Jatred’s lips parted in a silent surprise, his palms sweaty. He turned around and rushed back toward the staircase. He didn’t understand his own motives, but the only thing he wanted right now was to run up those stairs, away from her. Something made him stop and turn around.

  Jatred saw a willowy girl with dark skin walk out of the room. Her hair was long and curly, obsidian in color. Her movements were indecisive. Somehow he knew that she was looking for him and she didn’t even realize it.

  He took a hesitant step forward, watching the girl close her eyes and throw her head back. She walked gingerly, one hand on the wall, the other unhurriedly tracing an invisible line from her neck up to her lips.

  Jatred screwed his face up, trying to remember. He didn’t recognize her. He had never seen her before, he was sure about that. There was something about her. It made him stare at her, as if nothing existed but them in this moment.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there, leaning on the wall, absent from the world around her. Her senses came back to her, and she tried to recall where she was. Slowly, she opened her eyes and took a shuddering breath. A few yards in front of her, down the hallway, stood a tall, black-haired teenage boy. The sight of him sent a wave of longing through Jasmira. Oh, Goddess! Oh, Goddess. It’s him…

  He waited by the staircase, his blue eyes on her. His face was a mask of anguish. His jaws clenched and unclenched, as if he struggled with pain.

  “Jatred?” Jasmira said his name slowly.

  He didn’t respond or move—just stood there, watching her hardheartedly.

  Jasmira started to tremble, uncertain why she suddenly became nervous. She quickly closed the distance between them. She threw herself onto him, clutching his neck. “I was so scared… I couldn’t reach you for days. Everyone was telling me some crazy stories… that Crystal did something to your memories.” Jasmira’s eyes flicked over Jatred’s face, looking for the familiar expression of love and comfort he always had for her. But his features remained icy and distant.

  She drew in a panicked breath. “J?” her voice quivered with too many feelings to name. Her eyes opened wide when she realized that his arms were still down his sides and not holding her.

  Jatred was quiet, stone-faced, but his eyes weren’t cold anymore. He reached behind his neck and unclasped Jasmira’s hands. He moved them down and away from his body.

  Her heart sank, and she started to tremble again. “So it’s true?” She took a step back, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “What is true?” Jatred asked, confused.

  Jasmira slowly shook her head from side to side. “You are not playing some cruel game with me, are you?”

  He looked taken aback by her words. His face was a spectacle of emotions—confusion, anger, sadness, resignation. “Look, I’m…” He exhaled loudly, glancing away.

  Jasmira put her hands on his back, trying to draw him to her. His body stiffened, and she let go of him.

  Jatred looked at her intensely. “So you must be Jasmira?” His voice was low and raspy.

  She arched her eyebrows and stared at his face, speechless.

  “Are you or not? Just tell me, damn it. I really don’t remember you. Is that so hard to understand?” Jatred said heatedly. He shoved his hand through his thick black hair and looked away, swearing under his breath.

  Jasmira shook her head again. “Why are you so angry? It’s not happening. This is not happening. She couldn’t just take you away.”

  Jatred looked into her troubled eyes but he didn’t see anything familiar. He wanted to drag the memories from the void of his mind, but it felt like grasping empty air with his hands. He watched her for a moment, looking as though he was about to say something else. But he remained silent.

  “Look… I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before—“

  “It’s me! Look at me. I mean, really look at me!” she screamed with her mind, her jaw clenched. In frustration, she pulled with both hands on her hair and spun around, taking a few steps away from him. “I can’t believe this. Nobody just forgets everything. Wait a minute…” she turned back to face him, her face a mask of hope, “do you remember other people? Bogdan, Erik, Georgeta? How about my friend, Penelope?”

  Jatred shrugged. “I remember all of them. Pen too.”

  Jasmira blinked a few times in confusion, her lips parted. She stared at him in horror. “It’s impossible. So now your memory is... is…” she struggled to find a right word, “selective?”

  Jatred exhaled loudly and clasped both hands at the nape of his neck, looking up at the ceiling. There was nothing tugging at his heart, so why did he feel so angry? Why did she have this effect on him? She should be just another Shifter among the humans around. But she must have been so much more to him in the past. Just the way everyone tried to convince him that she was. How was this possible? He would have remembered something. Anything! Wouldn’t he?

  “J?” Jasmira’s voice cracked, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

  He snapped out of his angry reverie, as if waking up from a bad dream. Feeling even more confused than he did a moment earlier, Jatred stared at Jasmira’s tear-stained face. A distant memory tried to invade his consciousness—the tears spilling from those huge dark eyes and sliding down to her chin. They dripped onto her yellow t-shirt, leaving wet shapes on the fabric. Where had he seen this… it was like déjà vu. Ducks swimming in a pond, and then getting out of the water, shaking their funny little tails. Ducks? What the hell?

  “Where did you get this shirt?” Unexpectedly, he heard his voice, as if someone else formed the words coming out of his mouth.

  “What?”

  Jatred let out a frustrated grunt and shook his head. “The shirt. It’s yellow and the wet stain on it…”

  “I don’t remember. The Gap maybe? Why?” Jasmira looked down at her t-shirt. She swept her fingers over the wet spot. She felt a delicate pressure of the Dasht-e Kavir on her chest, but decided to ignore it for now. She lifted her gaze to Jatred.

  His eyebrows were knitted together, a line formed between them. “Where are those ducks?”

  “What? J, you aren’t making any sense.” Jasmira looked at him suspiciously.

  “Forget it.” He shook his head. His hands made their way to the nape of his neck again, where he wove the fingers together and pressed them to the back of his head.

  “No, wait. Wait. What ducks? Tell me what you saw? Maybe there is something in your memory? Something that you can use as a starting point to draw the rest from.” She sounded frantic, her eyes dancing over his face.

  “And you think some ducks are the key?” His voice carried a note of incredulity.

  “Well, I… I think you’ve got something—”

  “I got nothing! There is a freakin’ hole in my memory, and I have no clue who you are. I. Don’t. Know. You.”

  She gasped and clamped her hands to her mouth. “J—”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” he hissed and turned around. He took a few steps, stopped and said from over his shoulder, “Leave me alone, I mean it. Whatever it is you think you are doing, is not my concern. I just want to be left alone.” He ran up the stairs.

  Jasmira’s heart pounded in her chest and she felt very dizzy. She sank to her knees, shaking, unable to speak. “You are not yourself, J. I don’t understand it, but I know this is not you speaking.
” Her mind was spinning out of control, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

  CHAPTER 45

  Human World, November 18, early evening.

  Savannah sat by a hospital bed, looking at a room partition. White fabric was stretched on the stainless steel frame with wheels. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying not to cry. She held her mom’s hand and gently stroked it with her thumb.

  The older woman was sleeping. Her chest rose and fell slowly. Her head was bandaged, and one arm was enclosed in a cast. A large bruise and a long scratch covered one side of her face; bandages were plastered on her other arm and neck.

  A large hospital room was divided into several one-bed sections, each occupied by someone injured in the earthquake. The door opened slowly. It let in the noise from the corridor. The hospital beds were crammed in there too. A slender Asian teenage boy poked his head inside. His face looked like a beautiful sculpture: high cheekbones, slanted eyes, and a sensual mouth, combined with smooth skin. He smiled tentatively at Savannah.

  “Logan.” Savannah looked surprised.

  “Hey,” he whispered, and quietly closed the door behind him. He walked over to the bed and looked at the sleeping woman. “How is she?”

  “The doctor said she should be fine. There is no internal bleeding, but she has a broken arm,” Savannah whispered.

  Logan looked at her, his eyes kind. “I’m sorry. If there is anything I can do...”

  “Thank you for being here. I really appreciate it.” She looked away.

  Logan walked to the other side of the bed, where another chair was positioned right by the room divider. He lifted the chair with one hand, as if it was a sheet of paper. He brought it next to Savannah, sat down, and turned toward her. She didn’t look at him.

  “Savannah,” he said tentatively, and then raked his hand through his thick black hair.

  Her eyes flicked to him.

  “Look… my family, uhm… I told you. They… they won’t allow it—”

  “I know,” she cut him off. “They are strict and will never let you be with me.” She turned to him and whispered very quietly, so the other patients and the visitors couldn’t hear her, “Because I’m just a human.”

  Logan swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple momentarily bobbing up and down. He watched Savannah’s face. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them quickly with the back of her hand, turning her head away.

  They sat in silence, watching Savannah’s sleeping mother. A few beds away someone was crying softly. The sound cut through a low murmur of conversations coming from different parts of the room.

  Logan cleared his throat and asked, “When are you taking her home?”

  “Today. As soon as she wakes up.”

  “Do you want me to drive you, guys?”

  “No, I have Mom’s car here. It was parked on the street by our house, but nothing fell on it or anything. We were lucky, at least with the car.” Savannah tried to smile through the tears.

  Logan drew her in his arms and pressed her gently to his chest. He stroked her hair. She didn’t protest and hesitantly put her hands on his back.

  The door opened and a short, corpulent nurse rushed past them, a tray with a medicine in her hands. Another nurse—a young and willowy African American—followed, carrying an identical tray. Her short black hair was tightly braided, dark-brown skin showing between the tiny immaculate rows. The woman turned her head and glanced at the teenagers. Her gaze slid over to Savannah’s mother. She stopped for a moment, but then moved past the hospital partition.

  Savannah sat up with a sigh, her knees still touching Logan’s. She looked at her mom’s peaceful face, and then at her ex-boyfriend. He was watching her with an unreadable expression.

  “If you need anything… I mean, anything, don’t ever think twice about calling me, okay?” Logan’s eyes bore into hers. He leaned tentatively closer as if to kiss her, but stopped, and looked down. He got to his feet, stuck his hands in his jeans pockets, and bit his lower lip.

  “Logan, it means a lot to me that you called, and then came here right away. It’s so…” Savannah let her breath out forcefully. “Don’t ever leave me. I mean, you did but… what I’m trying to say is that I feel more secure knowing we are still… friends, you know.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He watched her for a moment, silent, his throat tight. “I will call you later.”

  He turned around, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway without a second glance.

  Don’t ever leave me? What is wrong with me?I’m such an idiot. Savannah squeezed her eyes shut. She grimaced and hit her fist on her thigh.

  ***

  “I told you I don’t have any stupid concussion.” Penelope looked at Erik.

  He stood next to her. “Thank Goddess.”

  Penelope sneered, “Which one? I don’t see either of them doing a damn thing to protect us.”

  “Get back home, you two. And be careful.” A man in a white doctor’s coat passed them hurriedly, a stethoscope dangling from his neck. Both teenagers clearly heard his voice in their heads.

  They turned around to watch him navigate the crowd and the beds in the hallway.

  “You still work for Doctor Bigbee?” Erik asked.

  “You know I do. He lets me work just one afternoon a week here. Downstairs, in the reception. I wonder how he looks when he shifts.”

  “I don’t think you will ever have a chance to see that here.” Erik laughed.

  Penelope swatted him on the chest, grinning, and then circled her arm around his waist. Erik kissed the top of her head, avoiding the spot where the blood from her injury had dried in a dark-brown crust. The wound was already healed.

  They passed another bed lined up along the wall of the hallway. The door opened, and Logan stepped out, his handsome face contorted with sorrow.

  “Logan!” Erik shouted. “Hey, are you okay?”

  The Asian teenager looked from Erik to Penelope, and then past them, as if seeing all the injured people for the first time. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “What are you doing in here? Is someone from your family hurt?” Erik towered over Logan, his eyes concerned.

  “I was checking up on my friend’s mom. She got hurt in the earthquake.”

  “Who’s mom?” Penelope asked.

  “Uhm… her name is Savannah. You probably don’t know her.” Logan shrugged.

  “Of course I know Savannah. She’s my neighbor. They’ve moved into that little house on my street last year,” Penelope said. “I saw her yesterday with Jatred. Are they dating?”

  Logan looked sharply at her, taken aback by her words. “What?”

  Erik cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t think Jatred is dating anyone right now.”

  “I saw them together, and they didn’t exactly look like two buddies.”

  “What?” Logan asked again.

  “Oh, stop saying ‘what’. It gets on my nerves.” She shook her head at Logan, annoyed, and then turned to face Erik. “I know what I saw. And you weren’t there.”

  Erik opened his mouth to say something, but the floor under their feet swayed. The crowd around them burst into shrieks and wails. The three of them huddled together on the floor by the wall.

  “Aftershock!” Penelope cried, pressing into Erik’s strong, protective body.

  Logan crawled toward the nearest door, managed to stand up, and opened it. Savannah was on her knees by the bed, holding onto her mother. He couldn’t see past the screen, but he heard a man screaming, and a few other people attempting to calm him down.

  “Logan,” Savannah gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  He walked cautiously to her. As soon as he crouched down by Savannah, the shaking ceased.

  “What was that? Another earthquake? Again?” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

  “An aftershock. Fortunately not strong.” Logan looked her mother, who was fully awake now. She looked around in confusion.

&n
bsp; Erik and Penelope threw the door open. A tense expression on their faces relaxed when they spotted Logan.

  “Hey,” Erik said in the general direction of Logan, Savannah, and her mother.

  Savannah’s mom looked from Penelope to Erik, and then at her daughter and Logan.

  “Mom. We gotta get you out of here.” Savannah grasped her hand. “What if there is another aftershock, much stronger?”

  “Calm down, honey. I’m fine.” The woman touched Savannah’s cheek and asked, her voice filled with concern, “Is everyone okay?” She slowly sat up, wincing. “Penelope, what are you doing here? Where are your folks?”

  “I can’t reach them. The cell phones aren’t working now. But Mom managed to call me right after the earthquake… I mean, the first earthquake today, and they were fine.”

  “There should be a pay-phone somewhere at the hospital,” Savannah’s mother advised. “Logan, where are your parents?

  “They’re okay, Mrs. Robinson. Dad said you were hurt and Savannah brought you here, so I…” He shot Savannah an uncertain look.

  “I’ll try to call my mom again.” Penelope pulled out her cell phone.

  There was a commotion in the room. The young nurse, who brought the medication in before, walked hurriedly past them. A doctor followed close behind, his shoulders hunched. A name tag on his white coat read, “Ronald Harris, MD”. There were hollows under his cheekbones and deep creases around his mouth and eyes.

  A moment later another young nurse, hurried in, her face flushed. She pushed a medical cart with resuscitation equipment. Savannah’s mother and the teens around her watched in silence the rushed parade of the medical personnel.

  “It looks like someone had a heart attack,” Mrs. Robinson said quietly. Her eyes were large with fear. “This is Doctor Harris. I’ve known him for years.”

  “Mom, do you think you can leave the hospital? It’s so good to see you… back to normal. How are you feeling?” Savannah tried to sound composed, but her voice came out squeaky.