Equal Parts (4 page)

“What are you doing here, darling? Because if you’re going to grant my last requests, you should know, I’m an absolute sucker for red-heads.”

Another shiver. I ignored it. “I’m already convinced this is a bad idea – you don’t have to open your mouth and confirm the theory.” Before he could provoke me further, I returned to his bedside, back to the camera, and slapped a hand over his mouth and poured exactly half of the sunshine I’d collected from the party three days ago into his skin.

Just like with Mrs. Corbet, the effects hit him swiftly. The unhealthy hue to his dark skin lifted, his
heart rate
jumped back to normal, and his chest bowed off the bed, as though I’d sent electricity through his veins instead of confidence and happiness.

The shock was plain as day on his face, even underneath the make-up. He opened his mouth to speak – and ruin the moment, most likely – but I kept my hand against it.

“I’m going to pretend you thanked me, go back to my car, and hope never to see you again, understand? My debt’s been paid,” I told him firmly.

The door instantly opened when I knocked on its inside, and before I pushed the trolley back out into the hallway, I stole one last glance at the man I’d just saved from certain death. His life was back in his hands now, and that would have to be enough. His ebony eyes were on me, seeing through to my soul, even with the closing door between us.

He mouthed something at me, but I chose not to interpret it. He was nothing to me now.

I thanked the policemen again, stowed the trolley where I’d found it, all but sprinted from the hospital, reached my car, and sped home.

It wasn’t until I was tucked in bed, scrubs stuffed in my closet, sleep creeping towards me, that I replayed Achilles’s words to me across that miserable room:

See you soon
.

Chapter Three

Taking in Strays

By the next morning, news had spread that Achilles had escaped the hospital. By the time I met Lucia for lunch downtown, rumor was that he had personally hunted down the doctor who tried to overdose him, and hung him with his own stethoscope.

Over and over logic screamed at me – ‘I told you this would happen! He’s coming for
you
now!’. Which, you know, was highly comforting.

“You don’t look too good” was the first thing Lucia said to me as she approached our usual table at the café. “Are you sure you’re well enough to be out?”

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Just a lingering thing – I’m taking tons of vitamins, though, so I’m sure it’ll blow over. What’s been happening?”

“Well, did you hear about Achilles? You know, the crazy dude who dresses like a skeleton? I hear he’s roaming around the city right now. Originally I was going to cancel our lunch, but I figured, since you’re … you know…” She lowered her voice significantly, “
neutral
, that we wouldn’t be targets. So we’re safe.”

“Yeah, totally safe,” I said, more to myself than her. I knew he was coming for me. Whether or not he would kill me, I had no idea. So, to my dismay, the hospital would have to do without me for a while.

I had been running all my life. I’d run from my family, from my hometown, from my past. I was so used to being betrayed that nothing shocked me. If Lucia had suddenly pulled out a knife and stabbed me in the chest, I wouldn’t have even flinched. My own happiness and good feelings were unimportant, after all. People in need – in need of cheering up, of a boost, of a spirit lift – took precedence, always. Why use it for myself when I could save lives with it?

“I still can’t believe you bailed on
Finn Cole
,” Lucia gushed, breaking my reverie. From the corner of my eye, I saw a head snap up. I brushed it off as paranoia. “You have to be the first girl in history to do that. What is it about him that freaks you out so much, anyway? Is it the smoke thing? Because I can see how that would come off as creepy.”

“He’s just … I don’t know … boring. Too nice.” It was a lame excuse, but it was the only one I could come up with. I didn’t do ‘nice’ guys. Nice guys usually fixated on mending people, and I was in no way looked to be mended. The skeletons in my closet were very happy were they were, thanks very much. “Was he mad when he couldn’t find me later on?”

She shrugged. “If he was, he didn’t show it. I left just before eleven, anyway, and he was chatting up some other girl then. So, if I had to guess, I’d say no.”

“Good.” I meant it. Someone like Finn Cole didn’t take a genuine interest in someone like Felicity Eastwood. Most likely, he’d seen me as an easy lay, and gone for it. Either that, or he had been drunker than I remembered.

Lucia’s ongoing stream of chatter was easy enough to get through with minimal ‘oh, yeah?’s and ‘mm-hmm’s. When she visibly saddened at the mention of her dog Bruno, who’d had to be put to sleep a few months back, I briefly considered sending a shot of sunshine her way. One brush of the hand would do it. Hell, she probably wouldn’t even notice.

But I’d sworn to myself, all those years ago, that I would never use my power on someone too close to me. It was the reason I distanced myself from the patients at the hospital, and the reason I didn’t let many people know of my power. Just the essentials: my doctor, Lucia, and my next-door neighbor, who’d once overheard me discussing the power with Lucia, and who had only agreed to keep quiet about it after I wrote him a check for five hundred dollars.

I’d learned the hard way that people could easily become addicted to my power. It was a drug in its own right – the power to unleash your happiest thoughts, increase luck and confidence, and boost your morale for a long period of time. Which is why I kept a tight lid on it for everybody, including myself. Anything more than a burst of the stuff could send a person off the edge – again, I’d learned that the hard way.

So, really, it was inevitable that Achilles was coming for me. He’d had a taste of pure happiness, and now he’d be coming to get another. The best plan was to sit tight and wait for enough time to pass so the effects of my power would have worn off. It had been foolish of me, to do what I did in the hospital, but I didn’t regret it. My conscience was stronger than that.

“Felicity? Are you feeling okay?” Once more, Lucia broke my concentration. Thank goodness, too, because I was dipping into memories I didn’t care to revisit. Her coffee-colored eyes searched mine with concern.

“Oh, yeah. A bit tired, is all. I haven’t been out in a while,” I said, as the waiter cleared away our lunch plates.

She tutted. “Time for you get home and back to bed. You look exhausted. I’m sorry I dragged you out here, I just –”

“Don’t be silly,” I assured her, “I love our lunches! As soon as I’m up to it, we can do a day-trip somewhere, I promise.”

“Ooh, good!” And that was enough to set her off on another rambling speech about a new shopping center opened in the nearest city, Port Martha, and all the winter outfits she planned to buy. Lucia, it seemed, hated winter. I, on the other hand, loved the cold. I couldn’t wait for the skies to darken and the nights to lengthen.

We said our goodbyes soon after, when we were out on the street, and Lucia’s hug was tighter than usual.

“Take care of yourself, okay? I’m going to visit Brad this weekend, but feel free to call me any time.” Lucia’s boyfriend Brad went to college in New York, and she usually flew up to see him whenever possible. I still hadn’t met him, but from her stories, he was a bit of a douchebag.

“Sure,” I said, though we both knew it was a lie. “Thanks for everything, Lucia. I really appreciate it.”
Not
a lie. I was lucky to have a friend like Lucia, who put up with all my crap and didn’t judge when I didn’t laugh at anything or smile
too
often.

“Be careful,” she repeated, gripping my shoulders lightly before stepping aboard the bus behind her. I stayed long enough to wave her off, and then headed back to my car, parked a few blocks away.

Lucia’s departure left a heavy feeling in my chest, like I had just said goodbye for the last time. Maybe all my morbid thoughts were catching up to me.

People bumped into me on the street, some apologizing, others not bothering. Sometimes it felt as though I was completely invisible – like I was ghosting through the streets, the bottle of happiness in my chest the only anchor I had to the ground. I saw myself in the reflections of store windows – untidy copper hair, shapeless clothes, large square glasses, no distinct features or aura – but hardly recognized that girl.

And it wasn’t until I looked closer in the reflection of my car window as I unlocked the driver’s door that I saw I wasn’t alone.

“What luck – Finn Cole’s little piece,” sneered a masculine voice. I waited for the shock to hit me – for a scream to rip from my lungs, a gasp, a cry for help,
anything
. But instead I just stood there, looking at the unfamiliar face in the reflection, blinking like a fish out of water.

Even when a black case enveloped my head, and something whacked across my skull, and everything went black, I still wasn’t the least bit surprised.

I awoke to the inside of the same black bag. Panic welled inside me briefly, before the numbness of my blood drowned it out again. If they wanted me dead, they’d have killed me by now.

“What’s this?” asked another male voice, different from the one at my car.

“Present for the boss,” replied the voice beside me. Slowly, headache receding, I registered the grip on my arm, the ropes binding my hands and feet, the scrapes on my knees. I’d been dragged a long way, by the feel of it. “I heard her say Cole’s after her.”

A chuckle. “He’ll be happy with you, man. God, I hate that smoky bastard.” Oh, brother. These guys somehow thought I was involved with Finn. Next time I saw that idiot –
if
I ever saw him again – I was going to punch him right in the face.

I didn’t make a sound, even as my assailant continued to drag me over the cement floor for what seemed like miles. If I gave away my consciousness, I’d either be beaten or something worse. Until I could assess the situation, I was much better off playing knocked out.

A rap on wood. A deep voice from inside. A door opening, closing. I tried not to cry out as I was suddenly tossed forward onto my face.

“I don’t take in strays, Joshua,” said an eerie voice.

“This ain’t a stray, sir. She’s involved with Finn Cole. You know, romantically. Sir,” the other voice added quickly.

Crap, crap, crap,
this wasn’t good. Whoever I was dealing with was obviously someone of power, if he had thugs working for him. And judging by the hatred of Finn Cole, I’d have to guess they were superhuman – one of the criminal bosses, maybe? Another villain? Or, God forbid, Achilles himself?

I almost laughed at the idea of that. How ironic – him catching me, not for me saving his life, but for being publicly seen with Finn Cole.

“Just throw her in a cell, I’ll deal with her later,” came the order.

“Yes, sir,” replied the thug, grabbing me roughly by the collar and dragging my forced-limp body out of the room. I felt the warmth of blood trickle into my torn stockings at the knees, the skin scraping with every inch he tugged me.

Finally, blissfully, he tossed me on the ground once more, and I heard a lock resound behind me.

“Nice legs,” commented someone from a distance.

“Too bad about the rest of her,” snickered another voice. “There won’t be much left once the boss has a turn.”

A turn? A turn at
what
? Once more, the panic threatened to overload my senses and have me screaming out for help. But I forced myself to remain calm, no matter what the cost.

It wasn’t until footsteps faded into the background, and yet another door was closed, somewhere far away, that I stretched out my legs to test the environment surrounding me. I had to stretch my entire body out before my feet met a wall, meaning the cell was about six-foot in width. I did the same for its length, only to find I had to scoot forwards about three or four feet to touch the end. Well, at least I knew dimensions.

A source of light was at the very top of the wall behind me, which I had to assume was either a window or a
light bulb
. Something hard and metal sat in the corner of the room – a toilet? – and the floor was cold concrete. It wasn’t long before that very cold seeped through my clothes, through my skin, into my bones. Shivering, I curled up in what I hoped was a corner of the cell, and tried to will warmth back into myself.

They couldn’t torture me – I literally had nothing to tell them about Finn Cole. They could kill me, I supposed, but it wouldn’t do much good. I wasn’t worth anything to society. In theory, they really had no use for me. My relationship with Finn was nonexistent. The sooner they realized I was a nobody, the better.

What felt like hours later, after I’d simply accepted the frigid cold running through me, the door scraped open. Instinctively, I leaned further into the corner, as though the wall would swallow me whole and hide me.

“She doesn’t look like much,” commented the voice at the door. The same eerie voice as before.

“That’s what I thought, boss, but Tony says he saw her with Cole the other night. Then I heard her talk about him in the café, so I guess she must be hiding something, right?”