Splinter Skill

by A C Bell

  “Still not good enough,” She muttered.

  She tried a few more times, looking more and more frustrated. Peter almost stopped her, but she pulled it down easier each time. Finally, she got it all the way down.

  “Okay stop, stop.” Peter grabbed hold of the bar and helped her raise it back up.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked breathlessly.

  He frowned guiltily. “Given that you’ve always been into athletics, even though your shoulder is weak right now I’d have guessed you should actually be able to lift 80 with only a little trouble.”

  Adeline deflated. “Oh. What’s it at?”

  Peter waited as a man strode by in a sweat-drenched shirt. He wrinkled his nose at the stink. “175,” he whispered once the stranger was out of earshot.

  “What?” Adeline’s eyes bulged and she peered around at the weight to verify. “Why on earth did you put it there?”

  “Sorry. I set it high so you would get discouraged and agree to finish up. On a better note, I think we know what your splinter skill is, She-Hulk,” he teased. He mentally fist bumped himself. He’d been right!

  Adeline beamed.

  ✽✽✽

  We decided to visit Lorraine after Peter talked me out of trying to lift more weights. “You can practice being She-Hulk when your arm is fully healed,” he’d argued. Nearly two hours later, we stood at the steps of Renenet’s estate house.

  “Good afternoon,” Renenet greeted when she answered the door. “You can head on over to the medical wing, but you’ll need to wait a few minutes. A few agents are speaking with your friend,” Renenet said.

  Lorraine was staying in the first room, so we waited outside until a young woman came out. Her thick dark hair was pulled up in a professional bun to match the theme of her dark blue pant suit and powder blue blouse. She couldn’t be more than a year or two older than me.

  “Hello, my name is Luiza Petrova. I’m with the Bureau of Intelligence Preservation. SAU Agent Stokes is still inside speaking with Ms. Winters.” She extended a hand but cringed a little when I shook it and didn’t meet my eye. She was probably just new, but I couldn’t help feeling self-conscious, as if she thought of me as ‘one of them’.

  “Adeline,” I said. I drew my hand back awkwardly and we both shifted uncomfortably.

  Unfazed by her unease, Peter extended a hand to her. She gave it a quick shake. “I’m Peter. Is your name Russian?”

  “Bulgarian.”

  “Ah,” Peter said with a debonair smile.

  This was hardly the time for flirting. I sent him an impatient look and he shoved his hands into his pockets, ceasing his attempt at charm. Luiza’s professional demeanor had not changed, but a barely perceptible frown suggested she had caught the coquettish lilt to his words.

  “We’re looking for the cynocephalus responsible for this attack,” she said.

  “It’s too bad you couldn’t catch him before someone got hurt,” I jibed.

  “Adeline,” Peter muttered. He nudged my arm. A sting of guilt pinched my gut when Luiza looked at the floor, but I ignored it. I understood that it was likely not her fault, but her people had known Gabriel was out there. If they had at least sent someone out to have a look, Lorraine might not have gone through any of this. I was less supportive of the BIP’s and the SAU’s ‘precautions’ now.

  “I’m sorry,” I said begrudgingly.

  Luiza nodded, but still frowned timidly. “Could I get your statement about last night?”

  “Sure.”

  Luiza withdrew a small notebook from her jacket pocket. “Just run me through what happened.”

  She scribbled quickly in her notebook as I spoke. It didn’t take long to take her through the events of the evening. As we were finishing up, the door to Lorraine’s infirmary room opened and a tall grey-haired man stepped out. A salt and pepper goatee encircled his stern mouth.

  “This is Adeline Parker and Peter…” Luiza paused, realizing she didn’t know Peter’s last name since he wouldn’t have been in Lorraine’s statement.

  “De la Cruz,” Peter finished for her.

  “Ms. Parker, I also need your statement,” Agent Stokes said in a low, rough tone.

  He withdrew a notebook identical to the one Luiza had. Did they buy them at Secret Agents R Us or something? I took a deep breath to suppress a grumble of irritation. I just wanted to see Lorraine, not play twenty questions with a pair of government stiffs. I told him what I’d just told Luiza, who actually jotted down my statement again, probably in case there were discrepancies or something I’d forgotten to tell her.

  “At any point, did he tell you what he wanted?” Stokes asked. I shifted on my feet, glancing sidelong at Peter. “If you would like more privacy…” Stokes began.

  I held a hand up to interrupt. “No, it’s fine. He said he was looking for Peter, but we don’t know why.”

  Peter crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’ve never met him before, so I don’t know what he wants.”

  Stokes and Luiza finished with their reports and slipped their notebooks back into their pockets. After tense goodbyes, the agents began their departure, but it occurred to me that this was the best chance to ask about what happened at the bookstore.

  "Agent Stokes?" I called after him. He paused and turned back, his brows furrowed in confusion. "A friend of mine called last week about an attack on a bookstore. Do you have any leads on who did it?"

  A frown curled his lips. "That's why I know your name. Your friend said it looked as if he was focused on you?" he asked. I nodded in confirmation. An image of the man watching me flashed behind my eyelids and I withheld a shudder. Stokes tensed. "We couldn't find any video surveillance that captured the event. We contacted Alexandra Wishart and she claims not to have seen anything, either. Given her status as a seer, that's a problem. As much as we want to help, there's little we can do until there is actual proof that something is happening here."

  I felt my fists clench, the nails digging into my palms, but it was Peter who started to argue. His brows twisted in anger and his face was starting to redden.

  "He must’ve used a cloaking spell! You know she wouldn't be able to sense him then. Are you really going to wait to investigate until Adeline winds up in the hospital? Or worse? While we’re standing outside the room of a girl who’s been infected by a cynocephalus because you refused to act on our last complaint about a cynephi in the area slaughtering wildlife?"

  A muscle in Stokes's cheek started to twitch and he pursed his lips to stop it.

  “We never received a complaint about this creature,” he said sternly. Peter balked. “As for the bookstore, if we investigated every claim without proof, dhampirs like your friend here might end up incarcerated for something they didn't do or that got blown out of proportion. But take this." He extended a contact card to me. I snatched it irritably from his grip. He also handed one to Peter. "If he makes another move, call me." Stokes made his departure.

  I turned to Peter. “I thought your dad called them?”

  He scowled. “So did I.”

  He knocked softly on Lorraine’s infirmary door. Hemway beckoned us inside and Peter pushed the door open for me. The sight of Lorraine slumped on a hospital bed brought my already dampened mood even further down. Only when I moved closer did I realize that leather straps held her to the bed and her arms were lacerated with slash marks. Had she tried to hurt herself or had she done so accidentally in a fit of anger? A messy curtain of her dark hair, wild and unkempt, hid her face from view, but her voice was strained when she spoke, as if she’d done a lot of crying.

  "Go away. I don't want to see anyone else."

  "Lorraine, it’s us.” Peter moved around me. He reached to give her hand a comforting pat but jumped back when she lunged toward him aggressively. Fortunately, the straps kept her from reaching him.

  "Go away!" Her chapped lips pulled back in a snarl as she screamed at him.

  Hemway moved to her other side, still certain
to keep his distance. His face and arms also had scratches. "Miss Winters, these are your friends. You must remember that." She swiveled her head to him manically and then, noting the plurality of the word "friends", turned to find me near the foot of the bed. The hatred with which she regarded me made me shrink back. My chest tightened.

  "You. None of this would have happened if I hadn't helped you. I should have left you to him!" Spittle flew from her mouth as she barked. I averted my gaze. "Look at me!" She spat. Greif contorted her features and tears rolled down her face. "Look at what you've done…"

  "Lorraine, I…" I couldn't continue my apology. It would do nothing.

  Peter stepped forward again. "This wasn't her fault. He was there for—"

  "Peter, we should go," I interrupted.

  There was no point in making her hate him as well. I retreated from the room before he could argue and braced my back against the wall outside. I should have sent her into the gas station. We were right there. He would have followed me and she would have been safe. Salty water stung my eyes and blurred my vision and my throat tightened painfully.

  "I'll let you know if there's any change in her condition," I heard Hemway murmur to Peter at the door. Peter let the door fall shut behind him and his legs moved into view where I was staring at the floor. He stooped a little in an attempt to meet my eye, but I refused to look at him.

  "She didn't mean what she said, the change is just messing with her hormones. It will take some time before the anger goes away, but I know she doesn't blame you. This isn't your fault. Do you hear me?"

  "Yeah," I whispered. "I hear you." He knew I was lying.

  ✽✽✽

  The soft sound of Nikki’s humming drifted through the door and the card lock gave a beep as she swiped her ID through it. “Hey,” she greeted as she bounced into the room.

  Peter strolled in after her with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his faded green denim jacket. He leaned awkwardly against the wall by the bathroom, watching Nikki as she dropped her backpack by her bed. He looked away, his face pinking slightly when she started running her fingers through her hair to tie it back. I was on my stomach on my own bed with Frankenstein open in front of me and masked a little smirk with the hand I was using to prop my chin up.

  “Hi. How’d your test go earlier?” I asked.

  She sighed. “Who knows. I can never tell. Hey, so Peter and I were thinking about going down to the corner store and picking up some junk food. What do you say? We could go to your mom’s house and have an I Love Lucy marathon or watch Nightmare on Elm Street and laugh at all the stupid people.”

  I gave them knowing looks. It wasn’t that unusual for Nikki to watch I Love Lucy but I’d only ever been able to convince Peter to watch two episodes. And Nikki always shushed me when I complained about stupid people in horror movies. No, this was a ploy. My glum mood had persisted over the last week and although Nikki didn't know what was wrong and she hadn’t pressed the issue, she had been relentless about trying to cheer me up. But I didn’t want to be cheered up.

  “You don’t need to do that. I’m okay, I swear.”

  “No, you’re not.” Nikki crossed her arms over her chest, scrutinizing me stubbornly. When I didn’t cave, her features drooped and her shoulders slumped. “You’ve been hiding in here since last Thursday. I don’t know what’s wrong and you don’t have to tell me. But you’re my best friend and I love you. Even if you refuse to come, I won’t stop trying to make you feel better.” Her hazel eyes bore into mine unyieldingly.

  My heart warmed and I let my forehead slump onto the book in defeat. “Alright. I’ll come with,” I said. Nikki beamed and practically landed on me in a hug. Neither Peter nor I could help laughing.

  ✽✽✽

  The corner store on University was almost vacant. More people would probably start showing up around ten or eleven to get drinks or whatever, but it was nearly empty at six. Most of the students on campus used the campus store for junk food since they got a discount, but Nikki and I only ever used this store for our movie nights because it was less likely that they would be out of the things we wanted. The three of us hopped out of Farrah and I started working on filling her up but Peter shooed me away from the fuel pump.

  “I’ll do that. Go pick your candy,” he said.

  Nikki looped an arm with mine and pulled me toward the store before I could protest.

  “Just let him be nice,” she said with a laugh. Inside the well-lit convenience store, a few people meandered about perusing the selection.

  “Hello, are you here for the regular stuff?” The girl behind the counter, a red head from my Lit class named Rachel, smiled and waved in recognition.

  I lifted a hand in a brief wave. “Yeah, another movie night,” I said. Each with a basket of our own, Nikki and I headed straight for the chip section and picked up some corn chips and cheese dip. Since Peter liked salt we also got some pretzels and I reminded myself to pick up some spicy beef jerky for him, too. The bell above the door jingled and Nikki smiled at whoever came in. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted a guy in a black windbreaker. His thick brown hair was curly and an easy smile softened his angular features. He was a few years older than us and he looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him. I turned back to Nikki.

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “No one,” she said coyly. “He’s just someone I run into on rare occasions. We have this running bit. Just some harmless flirting.”

  “Ah.” So, I’d seen him around school. A twinge of disappointment settled in my gut but I reminded myself that, as good of an idea as I thought it was, it really wasn’t my business if she and Peter dated. “Does ‘no one’ have a name?”

  “Adam,” she answered.

  I smirked and she twirled around to find the candy aisle, hiding a smile behind her hair. She had a bag of Skittles and Milk Duds in her basket when I caught up and she knowingly dropped a bag of Reese's Pieces into mine. We headed up front but Rachel was busy with a woman who was gesturing between two bags of chips, asking if either would be safe for her son’s newly discovered allergy to gluten.

  “Why don’t we get some SoBe or something?” Nikki said. I shrugged and we roamed back through the aisle toward the coolers, but the moment I rounded the corner to the right someone collided into me.

  “I am so sorry!” Adam sputtered. I waved him off when I saw the colorful slush all over the floor. Luckily, only a little had splashed onto my jeans. I glanced sidelong at Nikki. It could have been an accident of course, but it was also possible that he wanted a few moments of privacy to talk to her.

  “Let me get some paper towels from the bathroom,” I said, excusing myself.

  “Thanks.” He offered a grateful grin.

  “Do you want me to buy you another slushy?” Nikki offered. “All three colors I see. Adeline does that too.”

  Adam laughed and I hesitated. Adam? A slushy with all three colors? A convenience store? The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Adam was my dad’s name and he was the one who’d taught me to get all three colors. It could be a coincidence, of course, but something didn’t feel right. I turned pensively on my heel. Adam and Nikki were flirting while she decided on what flavor of SoBe to get. I now recognized where I’d seen him.

  His skin was a little darker, his nose was bigger, and his eyes were a different color. The discrepancies were subtle, but it was enough to disguise him. But there was no mistake. “Adam” was Officer Hanlen from school. Or, more likely, pretended to be Officer Hanlen. There was also no doubt that he had been the man outside the Amaranthine Bookstore, too.

  As soon as I recognized him, these features seemed to fade as if I were seeing past an illusion until he looked once again like Hanlen. A spell. His brown eyes drifted to me. He knew. A spiteful glower darkened his features as the facade slipped away. Goosebumps shimmered up my arms.

  18 Old Wounds

  “Nikki!” I shouted.

  She turned to
look at me, her eyes wide with confusion as to why I was sprinting toward them. ‘Adam’ grabbed a handful of her hair and smashed her head into one of the glass cooler doors. Then he lifted a hand to me.

  “Lux.”

  He snapped his fingers and a blinding light flashed so bright that I had to cover my eyes. Before I could recover he cast something else and I was shoved backward with high force. My back collided with the wall outside the bathrooms and the air was forced from my lungs, my basket of food scattering around the floor. I fell to a seated position as I tried to draw air into my lungs. Nikki lay in a slump on the floor and a little blood dripped from the cracked glass of the cooler. Rachel let out a shriek and Hanlen threw his arm in her direction and she froze. He hissed a word and she fell.

  I pulled my pocket knife from my shoe as he advanced toward me but with a flick of his wrist the knife was wretched from my grip. His hand gripped my throat and he hauled me to my feet to pin me to the wall. My mind raced for something to do, anything, but came up empty.

  The arrogance in his demeanor was now gone, replaced with a somber seriousness. “I should apologize for misleading you, Adeline. My name is Ian. I would guess that we don’t have long, so I’ll try to be quick.”

  “What do you want?” I spat. I glanced past him at Nikki, who stirred slightly. She slowly rolled over, holding her head. I needed to get to her. Needed to make sure she was okay.

  “I made a promise to my dad. I just hope it’s not too late.”

  He pulled a syringe filled with a clear liquid from his pocket as he spoke and directed it at my arm. I grabbed his hand so he couldn’t stick the needle in or throw the syringe with telekinesis. Then I gripped the hand on my throat and squeezed both as hard as I could. Adrenaline seemed to be working to get my splinter skill to boot up and I kept tightening my grip. Ian’s lips twisted downward in his determination to hold on. He clenched my throat tighter and tighter until my lungs burned for air and my head built with pressure. My pulse raced, my mind frenzied. If I released his right hand to use both hands to remove his grip from my neck, he would inject me with whatever was in the syringe, but if I didn’t remove his hand from my throat the lack of air might knock me out. He would definitely be able to inject me then. Then the obvious solution smacked my brain in the face.