Love, Alchemy

by Eden Ashley

  “We might be down two men,” the guy in charge replied gruffly. “Go check on Brown. Now.”

  When the cabin door opened and closed, Davey said a silent prayer and eased over to the opposite wall. She needed to see Ethan. From the sound of things, he wasn’t doing too well. Her new position allowed a glimpse of the team leader. He wasn’t an imposing guy—average height and kinda on the lanky side. Probably the most interesting thing about him was the sharp, almost hawk-like quality of his facial features. Yeah, the man’s nose could have definitely belonged to a bird of prey.

  The team leader kneeled next to Ethan, but she could only see Ethan’s shoes and the bottom half of his legs outstretched across the hardwood floor. At regular intervals his legs would tense and toes angle downward for several long seconds before the episode passed and his muscles relaxed again. Ethan was quiet through all of it.

  “Help me turn him over,” the team leader said. “But don’t touch him when he’s like that.”

  There was the sound of footsteps and a bit of a struggle as the two men moved Ethan. After a beat of silence, one of them swore softly. “Shit.”

  “It must have gotten damaged in my pack,” Green explained ruefully.

  The team leader’s reply was short. “Maybe so.”

  Green’s handsome face contorted into an angry scowl, his contrition vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. “Why are we risking our asses for this kid anyway? If Eleazar finds out what we’re up to, we’ll all be dead.”

  “We answer to the commander and not the old man. If our commander wants a shot at his brother before turning him over to their old man, then that’s exactly what we’re going to give him. We all owe him that much.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Green grumbled. “I didn’t come crawling and crying to GC because my genetics got fucked up by some freak of nature. I’m good at what I do because of natural talent.”

  A warning growl echoed through the room. “It’d be in your best interest to remember what my fucked up genetic code can do if you piss it off.”

  Green wasn’t shaken. “The last merc who threatened me didn’t fare too well,” he said woodenly.

  “Ivan was barely changed and untrained. I, on the other hand, will rip your spleen out and feed it to you.” The team leader jerked his head toward Ethan. “I’ll tell the others it was him, and no one will ask questions. Now, you can stand down, or you can continue to test my patience and discover what it’s really like to tangle with fucked up genetics.”

  Green didn’t answer for a long time. “Whatever,” he finally said. “At this rate, this thing will be barbeque by the time the commander gets here anyway.”

  Davey didn’t need to hear anymore. Retreating to the bedroom, she gathered several candles and a book of matches. When her sneakers touched the softly packed dirt beneath the bedroom window, she crept to the woodpile Ethan had been adding to over the past few days and searched for the can of lighter fluid she’d spotted there recently. The container was rusted and probably tainted with rainwater, but she had to try. It was their only chance.

  Heading in the opposite direction of where the soldiers would eventually find their fallen comrade, Davey tried to stay what she thought was downwind of whatever supernatural abilities she might be dealing with. She counted her steps and knelt to the ground after a hundred paces into the woods. Hurriedly raking up a mound of leaves, twigs, and dried moss, she doused the debris in lighter fluid and then soaked the surrounding area. Spying a fallen log, she was pleased to find it predominantly dry and dragged it closer to what would become ground zero of the forest fire she was attempting to start. Smokey wouldn’t approve.

  Giving everything a final bath in the lighter fluid, she made sure the can was completely spent, and then struck a match and tossed it to the earth. The fire caught instantly. Feeding on her offering, it intensified and spread across the forest floor, becoming a glowing, raging beast that consumed everything in its path.

  Davey turned and ran back to the cabin. Within five minutes, the fire had grown large enough to alert the team leader and his companion. It didn’t take long for them to decide to leave Ethan behind in order to investigate the fire and the situation of the missing soldiers. And when they were gone, Davey ran to Ethan. Seeing him made her heart sink.

  He wasn’t conscious. His skin was cold and clammy. His face was pale and drawn. Not seeing any visible injuries, Davey searched for what the team leader seemed to think was the cause of Ethan’s condition. Turning him over took some effort, but after two tries she got the job done. His shirt was already torn, allowing her a good view of his injury. Attached to Ethan’s left shoulder—positioned exactly over the tattooed collage of strange symbols—was a circular disc made of thin metal. Blood seeped from the edges of where the device coupled with his skin. Green lights blinked constantly at even intervals, but at the end of a forty-five second circuit, the same lights flashed red, an invisible current switched on, and Ethan’s body convulsed.

  Tasting salt on her lips, Davey wiped away the tears she hadn’t realized had fallen. Ethan didn’t need her to cry. He needed her to think.

  When the current switched off, Davey leaned in for a closer inspection of the disc. She could see where one side appeared to be damaged, partially separated from the housing that anchored it to Ethan’s skin. She tried tugging at it, but even with the slightest pressure, his bleeding worsened.

  Shouting voices reached her ears and Davey’s head whipped up. Suddenly, she had an idea, and from the sound of things, only one chance to execute it. So she dashed into the kitchen, snatching open several drawers until she found the necessary tools. With pliers and flathead screwdriver, she hurried back to Ethan’s side. “I’m going to help you, Ethan,” she said. “But I might just as easily kill us both.”

  Forcing the screwdriver into the damaged area of the disc, she leveraged until the metal yielded and the two halves were pried apart. Using the pliers, Davey widened the opening even further but was knocked on her ass when a sudden bolt of electricity burst through her hands and coursed painfully throughout her entire body.

  Swearing, she picked herself up, retrieved the scattered tools and crawled back to Ethan. He looked worse. The charge that hit her still flowed through him, locking his entire body in one violent contraction that bunched his muscles tightly enough to snap them in half. Dismayed, Davey scrambled for one final Hail Mary. Snatching the fire extinguisher from the wall, she shoved the nozzle into the open disc, pulled the pin, and squeezed the trigger. A cloud of choking yellow powder immediately filled the air, completely engulfing Ethan. Davey held her breath and kept going until the canister was emptied.

  Coughing, she tossed the extinguisher aside and nudged him with her foot. He didn’t move. Timidly, Davey reached forward and touched him. No shock. She counted the seconds until a full minute had passed and still the current did not return.

  “Ethan,” she called frantically. “Ethan, you have to wake up now. We have to go.” She shook him with both hands. “Ethan, please.”

  Groaning, his eyes fluttered open but were unfocused. Davey knew he didn’t see her.

  “Ethan,” she called again. “Wake up. Look at me.”

  “Davey?” Rolling to his side, he slowly sat up. His face contorted with pain as he put weight on his left arm. Reaching back, he felt blindly until the fingers of his right hand found the disc.

  “Don’t,” Davey said, reaching to stop him.

  But it was too late. Giving a firm twist and then an even more resolute yank, Ethan tore the device from his shoulder. Davey thought he was pale before. Now his color blanched at least two more shades. Shaking his head, he studied the disc for several long seconds…and then crushed the metal with one hand. Davey’s mouth fell open. As he struggled to reach his feet, she knelt to lend him her shoulder, assisting as best as she could.

  “We need to go, Ethan. Those soldiers will be back here at any moment.”

  Leaning heavily on her, he nodded and
started to shuffle toward the door. Outside, the fire raged like a maddened beast, burning dangerously close to the cabin’s westward side, but luckily the soldiers were nowhere in sight.

  She and Ethan were nearly to the car when Davey swore. “Damn it. When didn’t get the keys!”

  Ethan grimaced. “No time.”

  “Can you hotwire this thing then?”

  Placing one hand on the hood, he leaned onto the SUV and Davey for support, managing to half-walk, half-stumble to the passenger side. Before getting in, he closed his eyes for a brief moment with one hand still firmly pressed against the hood. Seconds later, the engine roared to life. Ethan opened his eyes. “Drive,” he said. “Hurry.”

  Deciding to put on hold the dizzying incredulity stemming from the extraordinary things she’d witnessed in one night, Davey climbed into the driver’s seat and tried not to think about the last time she’d raced away from gunmen with an injured boy riding shotgun. She couldn’t lose Ethan. She just couldn’t.

  21

  It started to rain—thick, impenetrable sheets of rain that dropped from the sky like curtains. Davey could barely see the winding road in front of her. Ethan had lost consciousness shortly after confirming they weren’t followed by the soldiers. So for over an hour she drove without knowing where the hell she was going. Eventually rousing, he was able to provide directions to the next safe haven.

  The refuge turned out to be a small town motel. It was moderately clean, offering double twin beds in all rooms, satellite television, and continental breakfast. For an extra ten dollars a night, the innkeeper begrudgingly surrendered the Wi-Fi code.

  Ethan was looking a lot better. Albeit unsteadily, he could walk on his own now, making it down the open air hallway and into the cramped room without Davey’s help. But in crossing the short distance from the SUV to the covered hallway, both of them were soaked by the unending downpour. Closing the door muffled the roaring storm outside but amplified the silence between them. Ethan seemed somewhat dazed. He had barely spoken three words since arriving at the motel. Worriedly studying his pale skin and waterlogged clothing, Davey went to fetch towels from the bathroom. When she came back, he was leaning tiredly against the wall with both eyes closed. At her approach, his dark gaze locked onto her. “Are you afraid of me?”

  “No,” she answered without hesitation. “There’s just a lot I don’t understand. The things you can do…” Unsure of how to finish, she let the rest trail.

  Averting his eyes, Ethan nodded but said nothing more. He looked about as lost as she had ever seen him.

  “Hey,” she said softly and went to him. He was likely just as confused as she was about what had happened back at the cabin. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, she pulled him closer, tilting her head and searching until his haunted eyes could avoid hers no longer. “It’s okay that you’re different, Ethan. You’re special.” Her mouth quirked into a mischievous smile. “It’s kind of a turn on.”

  Brightening, he lifted one icy hand to her cheek and rested his equally cold forehead against hers. Skin on skin, she could feel the way his body trembled, trying to warm itself. Davey could also hear his teeth chattering. Seriously concerned now, she started to strip the wet clothing from his body.

  “Y-you really ought to b-buy me dinner first,” he protested weakly.

  “We’ve got to get you dry and warm again.”

  Fully naked, it was easy to see the goose bumps and grayish tinge consuming his flesh even in the dim motel room lighting. At least the wound on his shoulder had healed. She gently ran her fingers across the raised scar as it was literally fading before her eyes. With a start, Davey realized she had seen the strange symbols within the tattoo before—maybe in a textbook or online—but her mind couldn’t pin down where. A violent shiver rippled through Ethan’s body, dispersing the thought, and Davey went back to work. Starting with his hair, she dried every inch of his skin, rubbing furiously to create warming friction.

  “Be c-careful with my junk, woman. The jewels won’t appreciate the c-chafe.”

  Ethan appeared to be on the verge of hypothermia. Here she was freaking out, trying to keep him from dying, while he cracked lame jokes. “Shut up, you idiot,” she said, but laughed anyway.

  Pulling the towel from her grasp, his expression grew serious as he folded the thin material around her. “Y-you’re cold too.”

  “I’m fine.” She took his trembling hands into hers. “Let’s just worry about you for right now.”

  “M-maybe I just want to see y-you naked.”

  Davey hissed a frustrated breath from between clenched teeth. “Ethan, I swear to God.”

  “Sorry. I j-just hate that y-you’re so worried. Lighten up.” He barked a short laugh and looked down at his hands, balling them into fists. “Damn. I just c-can’t seem to stop shaking.”

  There was something about seeing him in such a vulnerable state that pulled at Davey’s heartstrings, fanning embers of protective instincts into full blown flames. She more than wanted to take care of Ethan and keep him safe—she needed to. Relenting, she softened her voice. “Fine. Just promise me that you’re not going to die, and I will lighten up.”

  “Okay,” Ethan said. “I promise.”

  She held up her little finger. “Pinky swear it.”

  Clearly puzzled, he raised one eyebrow. “Pinky swear?”

  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Davey clarified. “It means you’re making a promise you absolutely positively will not and cannot break.” She lifted her little finger higher. “Pinky swear it,” she repeated.

  Ethan entwined his pinky finger with hers, and that uncanny buzzing sensation passed between the little digits, making Davey’s skin tingle in a now familiar way. Pacified, she tugged him toward the bed closest to the heating unit. “Get under the covers,” she instructed and stood with both hands on her hips until he had complied. “Now keep your eyes on me.”

  “Y-yes ma’am.”

  Starting with her soggy socks and shoes, and then moving on to the less awkward removal of her jeans and wet shirt, Davey slowly undressed. Holding Ethan’s unwavering gaze, she peeled off her sports bra and stepped out of her panties.

  “Come here,” he urged softly.

  Climbing into bed, Davey slid beneath the covers and lined her body flush against his, lending him her warmth. “Y-you feel great,” he said, staring down at her with eyes hooded with lust.

  Trailing her fingers along his well-muscled thighs, Davey dipped inward, seeking the soft mound of flesh between them that came alive at her touch. Groaning, Ethan shifted, giving her hands better access. Teasing her touch up the rapidly growing length of him, Davey kissed his shoulder. “You still want dinner first?”

  Ethan shook his head. “Nah. We had pancakes.”

  Davey was still smiling as she inched downward, kissing every inch of his cool skin along the way, only to finally wrap her lips around the velvety tip of his semi-rigid cock. Softly, slowly, she worked, encouraged by the sound of his moans as she stroked, licked, and sucked him to heighten arousal. And when he was rock hard, she took him as deeply as possible, gagging as the rigid tip of him pressed against the base of her throat. Gasping, Ethan rocked his hips forward and fisted one hand into Davey’s hair. Loving his reaction, Davey repeated the move, taking him until she gagged and then pushed him deeper.

  “Fuck,” Ethan hissed.

  Davey met his eyes defiantly. “Don’t come,” she instructed. “Not until I say so.”

  Without dropping her gaze, she sucked him down until her lips touched the base of his shaft, provoking a groan from Ethan’s lips that sounded as if it spawned from pure torture. When she spat him out and moved her legs to straddle him, Davey was pleased to find his body no longer felt like a slab of ice. If this was what it took to make him warm again, then guilt be damned, she was going to do it.

  Balancing above him, she savored the moment just before the head of his massive arousal pushed against her folds, and resistance gave
way to pure satisfaction as her body sank onto him, straining to absorb every inch until their bodies were flush again. Ethan lifted his hips, stroking upward to fill her even deeper, and Davey gasped. Something between a moan and purr followed, tearing from her throat before she could stop it. Without warning, she came. Tiny contractions rippled through her walls, tightening and lengthening as she folded over, locking her elbows to prevent her own collapse.

  Laughing appreciatively, she looked at Ethan, but his face was an expression of pure concentration. “Not yet,” Davey repeated firmly, and resumed grinding against him.

  Ethan’s head dropped back against the pillows. “You’re going to kill me.”

  She countered the direction of her hips, making slow circles and gripping him tightly. Jaw clenched and eyes closed, Ethan exhaled slowly. Davey watched his face, getting even more excited by what her body was doing to him. Leveraging with her thighs, she slowly lifted herself, expelling all of him except for the very tip. Then in one quick thrust, she stroked downward, taking every inch inside once more. Ethan bucked violently beneath her, growling like an animal as his fingers dug sharply into her hips, hard enough to leave bruises. Mercilessly, she repeated the maneuver—again and again.

  He spoke her name, making it a plea. “Davey.”

  “Say please.”

  “Please,” he begged breathlessly.

  Halting the torturous motion of her hips, she leaned forward until her face was inches from his. Beneath her, Ethan’s skin felt as if it were on fire. Beads of sweat even dripped from his hairline. Davey touched her lips against his, kissing him long and slow. When their mouths parted, she met his eyes and gripped the headboard. “Fuck me until we both come.”

  That was all Ethan needed. Taking hold of her with an iron grip, he thrust upward in one violent stroke, pounding into her, making her cry out. Again, he powered his hips upward, pummeling her, stretching her. Slow and deep—so deep—he filled her with those violent strokes, burying his cock inside of her womb. Changing the rhythm, Ethan slammed into her faster and faster, pounding hard enough to split her apart. Soon Davey was screaming with each thrust. Her legs began to shake as her core tightened desperately, and then she was breaking, sending streams of wetness gushing between her legs to soak his sweaty skin.