Ignite the Shadows

by Ingrid Seymour

  “Will you fight, Marci?” he asks when I don’t say anything.

  “I’ve no choice but to fight,” I answer in a whisper. “I’ve lived through enough horrors not to let one more worry me.”

  James says nothing for a long moment. He looks regretful, as if he’d like to shelter me from this nightmare. But he can’t. There are too many things in the balance and I’m the least of them.

  “Did anyone notice what I did?” I ask, trying to dispel the awkwardness before it stretches beyond bearable. “You know, with the lock and … the hose?”

  “You mean you didn’t pick the lock? You used your powers to open it?”

  I nod.

  “Hell, I didn’t even realize that myself.” He looks genuinely surprised. “Amazing. Telekinesis and, I believe, some level of ESP. Think of all the things you could do.”

  “Um, ESP? What are you talking about?”

  “Somehow you knew the code to the lab door had changed,” he says.

  “That was just a hunch. Not ESP,” I protest.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  That’s an unfair question. I’m not sure about anything these days.

  James’s eyes glitter with possibilities. I have the feeling he’s laying out an intricate plan for my life at this very moment. I will become a tool in his hands. I’m not sure how that makes me feel.

  James clears his throat. “Going back to your question. No, no one noticed what you did, and we’re very lucky they didn’t. Oso and Blare were too busy doing their job and trying to stay alive.” He sighs. “It will be very hard to hide what we are, but we have to try, for as long as we can. We have to be discreet, Marci. Not to mention careful. As grateful as I am, stepping out into crossfire wasn’t a good decision. Neither was using your powers in front of everyone. I know I sound like I’m contradicting myself. I want you to fight and use your powers, but you must do both wisely.”

  “I understand. I know what’s at stake.” Kristen made that all too clear.

  “The fight will be more difficult from now on. Since this morning, the Eklyptors know we exist. You saw the size of that door they were ready to install. They’re building vaults now, and after our attack and that of other cells, it will get worse. If we’d been one day late, we wouldn’t have found the rudimentary security they had this morning. They underestimated us and we got very lucky.”

  “Rudimentary or not, it gave us enough trouble,” I say.

  James lets out an unamused laugh. “That it did. But we had you.”

  He stands up and nods several times, looking proudly at me. A feeling of satisfaction floods my chest. At first it feels great, but then it scares me a little. Ha! I was already worried about letting him down before, now the pressure feels even greater.

  “Rest now,” he says. “There’ll be much work to do. We have to reassess the situation and figure out where to strike next. For now, the most important thing is to safeguard our identities and our mission from others. I’ve already told you there are Eklyptor spies everywhere, and, after today, they’ll only increase their efforts.”

  He walks toward the door and before he leaves he adds, “Not to mention those … dreaded meditation sessions.” With a wink, he exits the room and leaves me.

  Yeah, no pressure.

  Chapter 49

  I sleep for a while. I don’t know how long. When I wake up, I look around, searching for Xave. I’m the only one in the room. After a few minutes staring at the ceiling, I grow restless, my mind swirling with everything that’s happened. My thoughts keep going back to Xave and the sanity of my decision to tell him what I feel for him.

  Nearly dying can seriously impair one’s decision-making abilities. Before I almost ended up as crocodile bait, I’d decided I had nothing to offer him. One punctured lung and several bruises later, and I’ve spilled my heart out, putting us in a situation that could have devastating consequences for our friendship and even IgNiTe.

  In spite of everything, I can’t back down now. I won’t. Nearly dying isn’t that much different than actually doing so. Not when you’re at war, and death looms like a hawk stalking prey. I won’t miss the chance to be happy with Xave, not when it could be my last and only opportunity.

  I’m sitting, staring at my hands, when there’s a soft knock on the door.

  Xave peeks in. “You’re awake. How do you feel? Dr. Albright said you’ll make a quick recovery,” he says, walking in the room.

  “Yeah,” I mumble. My thoughts are jumbled. Xave frowns, probably puzzled by my hot and cold attitude. I brush aside my worries, knowing it isn’t fair to him. I was the one who got us into this mess.

  We exchange nervous glances and, if awkwardness was visible, we’d see a wall between us. The usual easy feeling of his presence is replaced by caution and doubt. We don’t know how to be anything else besides friends. As I watch Xave fidget, I wonder if there are even more reasons that make this a mistake. Will we work out as a couple? Agent or not?

  “Um, what’s going on out there?” I ask. “I’m getting bored stuck in here.” As wrong as it is, I’d rather have picked the conversation back up where we left it before Kristen interrupted us, but we have to start somewhere.

  Xave eagerly jumps to answer. “You’re better off in here. Believe me. Blare isn’t making things easy for anyone.”

  “No,” I say with mock skepticism. “Not Blare.”

  We both laugh.

  “There’s a wheelchair out there. You’re sitting now. I don’t see the difference. I’ll roll you out, so you can take a look at this place. It’s something.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. I’d like to see it.”

  He leaves for a minute and comes back with the chair. I start to get out from under the covers.

  “Hey, don’t move,” he orders.

  I freeze, remembering I need to pretend my injuries aren’t healing as quickly as they are. I don’t think playing the helpless patient will come naturally to me.

  Hesitantly, Xave puts an arm around my back, then slides another under my bent knees. My five-foot-five lean frame is nothing for his six-foot-two muscular one. I wrap shaky arms around his neck. He buries his nose in my hair and inhales. Xave’s torso is hard and sinewy against the side of my body. I remember all the times I’ve seen him without a shirt and start feeling tingly all over.

  As he sets me down on the chair and pulls his arm out from under my legs, goose bumps travel down my spine. He’s close, with his left arm still around my back and his face next to mine.

  Suddenly, he pulls me tight in a desperate embrace. “Thank God you’re okay.” His voice is a warm whisper beside my ear, his relief as real as the solid arms that envelop me, transporting me to the safest place I’ve ever known.

  Xave pulls away slowly, grazing my cheek with two-day-old stubble. “Marci.” He says my name like some sort of sacred vow. I never knew it could sound so beautiful and mean so much to someone.

  From ear to chin, my jaw is electrified as his face slides along mine. He only pulls away when the corner of his mouth is about to touch mine. We gaze at each other. At this moment, his eyes are dark green with flecks of brown.

  “I don’t care who walks through the door,” he says.

  Slowly, he leans in and kisses me.

  Xave’s lips are gentle and slow at first. His cinnamon breath is almost edible, and I know that—from now until forever—a stick of Big Red will always remind me of him. His hands hold my face tenderly. He pulls away and looks me in the eye for two quick seconds, then kisses me again, this time deeper. I forget myself and forcefully press my mouth against his. His breath catches before he joins in with the same intensity. The world comes to pieces, disarmed by the force of the emotions surging through my body.

  Suddenly I realize this is no mere kiss. A kiss is just a kiss until it becomes more than just two mouths pressed together. A friend only a friend until the day you feel whole in his arms. A heart just a muscle until the embrace of a lifelong friend ligh
ts it on fire and makes you suspect you’ve never been truly alive.

  I gasp. Xave pulls away alarmed, his gaze flickering to my injured side. He thinks he’s hurt me, when what he’s done is awaken a deep hunger within me.

  “I’m sorry,” he croaks and rests his forehead against mine, inhaling and exhaling deliberately, getting his agitated breaths back to normal. “Got carried away. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t,” I blurt out, hoping he’ll kiss me again.

  Xave grazes my lower lip with his thumb. “That was …” He shakes his head, words failing him.

  “I know.”

  He pushes away, taking all the oxygen with him. I need him near me again. How I ever survived when he wasn’t around is suddenly a puzzle.

  “I need to take better care of you,” he says. “I’m not being a good … boyfriend.” He searches my face for a reaction.

  I smile, letting him know he can call himself whatever he wants. “No, you’re not. You stopped kissing me.” He smiles back, hazel eyes a lighter shade of green now.

  Biting his lower lip, Xave leans in and gives me a lingering kiss, one that we both have a hard time pulling away from.

  “I can’t wait till you’re all better.” He sighs then straightens. “C’mon, let’s tour the place, before we get in trouble.”

  Chapter 50

  Xave rolls the chair forward. As we exit into the long corridor—the wheelchair making a rhythmic click as it rolls—Kristen’s words ring in my ears.

  How long do you think you can lie to him?

  I bite my tongue. I already want to tell Xave that I’m all better, that he doesn’t have to worry about me or be afraid of hurting me, that he can kiss me, crush me against his body and never let me go. I wish I could tell him everything.

  “I think Blare’s jealous,” Xave says, as we pass closed doors on either side of the corridor. His words pull me back to the moment.

  He’s picking up the thread of our earlier conversation. I ponder for an instant, then catch his meaning. Blare must be jealous of Kristen, but I can hardly act like I know that. I’m not supposed to really know Kristen or the way she and James look at each other with such longing.

  How Blare feels about James, on the other hand, is no secret to anyone. She’s an open book to all. Well, except to James, apparently.

  “Jealous of what?” I ask, playing my part.

  “Not what. Who.”

  I pretend not to understand. “Huh?”

  “Of Dr. Albright,” he explains.

  “You mean the doctor and James … ?” This mock Q and A is actually kind of fun.

  “Oh, I don’t know, but Blare seems to think so.”

  “Funny,” I say.

  “Anything but. Blare’s in rare form, demanding answers about this place and why we didn’t know about it.”

  “Yeah, why didn’t we know about it?” I’m curious to hear how James explained The Tank’s existence.

  “Well, James just procured the place and with the hit on Riverbend there was no time to bring it up,” Xave explains, sounding as if he totally believes this explanation. James exudes nothing but trustworthiness, but still—“just procured the place”? With all that lab and computer equipment conveniently in one place? Hardly. And how about Kristen? How do they explain her away?

  As soon as we exit the hospital wing, I get an answer to my first question. Jaw practically hitting my chest, I stare at The Tank, barely recognizing the place. The space where the pods used to be is empty. There’s nothing in the middle of the vast open area, just polished wood floor and stark white walls. Even the oil paintings are gone. Cubicle walls are pushed against the wall and huge tarps cover lumpy objects, giving a just-moved-in appearance. Only James with his faster-than-light speed could have done this.

  “It’s big, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I say in a drawn-out breath.

  “They call it The Tank because of those glass walls up there.” He points upward, toward the elevator. “It’s like a huge aquarium, I guess.”

  “So what is this? Why did James get a place like this?”

  “He says it’ll be our headquarters.”

  I nod. “Cool.”

  “Think of the kind of money the man has. Apparently he owns this building. Oh, you probably didn’t notice when they brought you in, but we’re smack in the middle of downtown, right under some fancy office building.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow.” The whole affair with James and his millions is still amazing to me, so I don’t have to pretend to be surprised. “So where’s everybody?”

  “In the kitchen, getting lunch ready. Let’s go. I’m starving.”

  Xave rolls the chair to the right, where the bedrooms, conference rooms and kitchen are.

  “So how does Kristen fit in? Does she know about IgNiTe and Eklyptors?” I ask, trying to learn all I can about James’s false version.

  “Yes. From what I gather, she’s not only a doctor, but also a biologist. Apparently, she’s doing all kinds of research to figure out a cure.”

  “A cure,” I say dreamily. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t know. I guess. If the infection is like a virus or something like that, it has to be possible.”

  “What if it’s not?” I ask, watching the polished floor pass under my feet.

  “I don’t like to even think about that.” Xave veers toward the kitchen.

  “What time is it?” I ask, finally a question that makes sense.

  “Um, twelve thirty. Are you hungry?”

  “Not really.” The thought of food makes my stomach queasy.

  As we enter the kitchen, I rest an elbow on the armchair and prop my head on my hand. I think a bit of acting is in order.

  “Hey!” Oso exclaims. “There’s our girl. How you feeling?” He approaches me, wearing an apron over a wifebeater t-shirt and a pair of jeans. A gold watch squeezes his thick, hairy wrist. His eyes grow sad as if he’s regarding an injured puppy. My acting is paying off. I take a quick look around the room and spot Kristen giving me an approving nod.

  Oso pats my shoulder as Xave pushes me deeper into the large kitchen. The smell of grilled meat churns my stomach. I should be hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday and I’m feeling better by the minute. The thought of food is unpleasant, though. Maybe it’s nerves due to having a boyfriend for the first time, and under these circumstances.

  Kristen stands by the long center island, slicing tomatoes. James is next to her, pouring wine into a row of glasses. He nods and smiles at me. I wonder if Kristen told him about Xave, if he disapproves. But, as he turns and passes Kristen a bowl full of lettuce, it seems I’m the last thing on his mind. They hold a quiet conversation, smiling easily at each other.

  If they have a thing going, I don’t know how they could object to my relationship with Xave. True, I’ve never seen any real evidence to indicate they’re involved, but it seems pretty obvious. Do they hide an affair? Or do they hide their feelings from each other on principle? Either way, the sexual tension between them is palpable and—judging by the way Blare’s staring at them, her eyes shooting invisible death rays in their direction—I’m not the only one who suspects something’s going on between the boss and the doctor.

  Perhaps the best thing Xave and I could do is keep things a secret. I mean, why does anyone need to know we’re together? I make a mental note to discuss it with him, hoping he doesn’t think I’m embarrassed to be his girlfriend. At that thought, I look behind me and smile.

  “Girl, you look rough,” Rheema says with a wink. Thick bandages cover her forearm, and she limps as she stands to move a chair out of the way.

  Oso walks up to a large, chef-style gas stove, picks up a pair of tongs from the counter, and flips a large steak. “You gave us a real scare.” His expression is stern.

  “It looked worse than it really was,” Kristen says.

  “Yeah, you looked like shi
t,” Blare says, snatching a wine glass from under James before he’s even done pouring. Like Oso, she looks to have made it out unscathed. I guess all the loose surveillance equipment is responsible for injuring those of us in the back. “I even thought you’d croak, but I guess I’m no doctor,” she adds with a nasty look at Kristen.

  Xave pushes the wheelchair to a long dinner table, in the space Rheema cleared. Across from me, Clark waves and wiggles one eyebrow.

  “’Bout time,” he says in a low voice, then fake-zips his lips and throws away the key.

  So much for keeping things a secret. I guess Xave already spilled it. I look away mortified. Xave pretends to be having trouble taking off his now torn IgNiTe jacket.

  “You hungry, little girl?” Oso asks. “I’ve got a steak with your name on it.”

  Kristen looks my way. I clutch my belly and shake my head. “Thank you, Oso. But I couldn’t stomach it.” I don’t have to pretend on this one.

  “How about some juice?” Xave turns to Kristen. “Dr. Albright, can she have some juice?”

  Kristen tosses the salad. “Yes, juice is fine. And call me Kristen, please.”

  As Xave walks to a battalion-size fridge to look for the juice, I notice Aydan sitting quietly at the end of the table. One of his eyes is bruised and bloodshot, and a strip of bandage is wrapped around his head.

  Xave returns with a glass of orange juice. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” I say, my gaze still locked with Aydan’s.

  He narrows his eyes at me, then gets up from the table, pulls a beer out of the fridge and returns without giving me a second glance. I guess almost dying had no effect on him. He’s the same jerk as before.

  As if this was a family and they had done this a thousand times, everyone helps set the table in a matter of minutes—except Blare and Aydan of course. There’s steak, salad, garlic bread and mashed potatoes.

  The food gets passed around and everyone fills their plate. I sip orange juice, while everyone else eats with unsettling appetite. Clark teases Oso about keeping the larger steak for himself. After Oso cuts into it, he lifts the plate and offers it to Clark. The thing looks like it’s barely been cooked. Clark waves a hand at the plate, and calls him a savage. Everyone laughs and my ribs don’t hurt as much when I join in.