Hidden Nature

by S. M. Savoy

  Her sudden fear buffeted him with a shock like ice water to the face, startling an oath from him. She was suddenly terrified and wanted him desperately.

  “Help.” Slurred and weak, her voice was barely audible from his wristcomp.

  “Sara?” He didn’t wait for her response, her terror goaded him to action. He jumped from the lift, ignoring the shocked cries of the others riding it up.

  “I’m coming!”

  “He just jumped thirty-feet!” A man in the lift chair behind him exclaimed in disbelief.

  Charlie knew he was taking dangerous chances with exposing his cover— and he didn’t care.

  - 2 -

  CAN’T CHANGE THE PAST

  The bartender grinned as she dropped the cup. He plucked a damp rag from the bar top and sauntered over. He was surprised to find her unconscious. Usually, they were just woozy for longer than that. Another patron glanced over, and he waved him away.

  “Just a bit too much to drink. I’ll see her to her room.” The patron turned back to his book, and the bartender grinned. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

  Excitement lit a fire in his stomach. His hands practically itched to undress her, and he grabbed her a bit more eagerly than he ought to with so many witnesses present.

  The blond hardly weighed a thing. The bulky red sweater and down jacket she wore made her look bigger than she was. The dose he’d given her was probably a bit too much. Nothing he hadn’t dealt with in the past. The boyfriend would come back and find her still out with an empty bottle of cheap wine beside her.

  He threw one of her arms around his neck while he supported her weight with an arm around her waist and dragged her from the room. Sweat trickled down his brow, a combination of nerves and anticipation. No one appeared to be giving them a second glance and he had to bite back his giddy laughter.

  The service elevator was empty, and he let her fall to the floor. Her room key was in her pocket and she was in the room right beside the elevator. Humming happily to himself, he let himself into her room.

  * * *

  Charlie called Paul as he skied down the mountain. “Something’s wrong with Sara. Get to her right now. She was in the lounge.” He glanced at his wristcomp to verify her position. “She’s moving, but not responding to me. I think someone has her. Hurry, Paul. They could be armed. If they are armed, stay back, but keep her in sight if you can. I’m calling our security right now. Don’t risk yourself. Her security can get to her in ten minutes.

  “I’m linking you her whereabouts. She’s the white dot. The red dot is who has her. I’m on my way.” He hit his panic button and said, “No one summon her. I want to catch these bastards!”

  “Valory, give me access to Sara’s wristcomp! Show me a three-sixty view!” he snapped.

  A screen sprang up in front of Charlie’s left shoulder showing a man in jeans and white sneakers dragging her. Rage tightened all of his muscles and the screen gained clarity. He knew his eyes had begun to glow and he welcomed the surge of adrenaline that left him feeling invincible.

  A harsh laugh escaped him. He was invincible. Is all it would take was a flick of his fingers and nothing –and no one— could harm him. His laugh changed to a snarl. They could harm her though.

  The angle from her wristcomp was bad, and he couldn’t see the man’s face. He debated telling whoever it was he could see him and decided not to. He was still at least five minutes away and didn’t want to panic the man into killing her.

  The man dropped her to the floor of the elevator and took her room key from her pocket. Charlie didn’t know if he’d dropped her before her shocks could hit him or just because he was on the elevator.

  The man entered their room and put Sara on the bed, blocking the view with his body now. There was something lecherous in the way he touched her, the slide of his hand against her bright hair, the finger that traced her bottom lip, and fresh rage infused him.

  But his behavior made Charlie think the man had no idea what Sara was.

  “I’m on my way to you, Sara,” Charlie said loudly over her wristcomp.

  The man started violently, jumping back, revealing her lifted shirt and undone pants. Her face was bright red, and she was sweating profusely.

  The chubby, red-faced man, who Charlie recognized as the bartender, was reaching into his pocket when the door was kicked open and Paul ran into the room.

  “Get away from her!” Paul shouted as he tapped his wristcomp.

  The bartender straightened and lifted his hands to show they were empty, smiling and licking his lips. “I was just helping her to her room.”

  Paul braced himself and gestured with a clenched fist. “Get down on the floor!”

  “Look, man, I was just helping her,” the bartender repeated. “She said she wasn’t feeling well.”

  “Is he armed?” Charlie asked anxiously as he fumbled for his sunglasses. He was tempted to summon her away now that he knew the identity of the man but how would he explain her disappearance?

  Paul said, “Doesn’t appear to be. I see no gun or knife. Both of his hands are visible.”

  “He’s lying. Sara called me. Don’t let him leave, Paul.”

  “He won’t leave. Get down on the floor right now or I’ll put you down!” Paul sidled closer.

  The bartender dropped slowly to his knees, then lay on the carpeted floor.

  Paul slid Sara’s sleeve up to feel her pulse. “She’s really sick, Chief.” He shook her shoulder lightly and got no response. “I can’t wake her.”

  Charlie forced his magic back, an effort of will that made him angrier. The magic fought him, but rage empowered him, and he was able to keep it beneath his skin. Normally, the magic and he were in accord. So much so that he seldom thought of it as a separate entity, but it was making its individual needs crystal clear now, pressing hard for release. A feeling of pins and needles rapidly progressed to a burning ache, but he was a warrior and pain empowered him. He ignored the magic, holding it in an iron grip, embracing the pain for the power it gave him.

  He said, “Don’t touch her. She’ll freak if she wakes and you’re touching her. I’m almost there.”

  “This is Major Elizabeth Harris. What’s her condition?” Liz asked.

  A small screen showing Liz sitting behind her desk appeared, hanging in the air over Paul’s left shoulder. Charlie’s Valory had appeared the instant he glanced at the settings icon. He flicked the icon to mute everyone before saying, “Valory, mute everyone except me and Liz from Paul. Discreet mode,” he finished, hoping the program to edit out any mentions of magic would work in the event they forgot that Paul was in the channel. It worked well in testing, but it did mean transmissions had a slight delay. Not that he thought the delay in speaking with Paul would make any difference whatsoever. She didn’t need Paul. She needed him.

  “Yes, sir,” Valory said crisply, saluting and fading back into the screen that now showed small red Xs beside the raid identifier icons.

  No one spoke in the public channel.

  Every raid member had entered the call and he could see by the flickers in the coms bar that some were speaking, likely giving orders or asking for them. If he wanted to, he could listen in, but he didn’t really care what they were doing. He swiped the screen, making it disappear.

  “Valory, give me access to Paul’s wristcomp. Three-sixty view. I want to see what he’s looking at.”

  The screen shimmered and reformed to a three-dimensional image of Sara as seen from Paul’s perspective. He was leaning over her.

  Paul said, “Her pulse is fast and irregular and she’s unresponsive. Her face is bright red. She’s sweating heavily and there’s a rash growing on her neck. Should I remove her coat and gloves?”

  Charlie could see that for himself. Valory was also displaying a graph of her vitals that was growing brighter by the second.

  “Audio alerts off,” he said before the screen could begin to warn him that a raid mem
ber was in acute distress.

  Liz said, “She’s having an allergic reaction to whatever sedative he gave her. I’m calling the paramedics and ordering medicine for her. Give her Benadryl.

  “Charlie, you’ll have to give her an IV. I’m calling Doctor Gotlieb and Doctor Elliot now. Beta is on the way to you. Paul, right?” Liz asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t let anyone touch her. Don’t touch her yourself. Leave her as she is until Charlie gets there. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Get some cloths in cold water. Charlie will need them. What’s your ETA, Charlie?”

  “I’m less than two minutes away. I can see the lodge.” Charlie replied. He flicked off the image to read Liz’s graphs, his pulse jumping at the information displayed.

  She said, “Paramedics are in route to you. They’re a good five minutes away. Keep her cool. She’ll likely spike a temperature. Take a blood sample for me. We need to know what this is. Agent Lewis is on his way there. Both of you, no one touches her except Charlie, am I clear?”

  Paul said yes again.

  Charlie was trying to think of a reason to explain the pain from touching her. Sara’s magic would be panicked and need him. Anyone else near her would cause it to react very badly.

  Before he could say anything, Liz spoke. “She’ll react violently to anyone else and might hurt herself trying to get away. I’m contacting both the police and paramedics right now, but if someone still tries to touch her, stop them.”

  The patrons outside the lodge exclaimed and hurried away as Charlie skied up. The ones inside mostly stared in shock although two women screamed. The patrons at the door scrambled out of his way, dropping their glasses, and rushing for the door. He ignored the effects of his aura and bounded up the stairs to their room.

  “Have you touched her at all?”

  “Her wrist for a few seconds checking her pulse.” Paul ran into the bathroom and the water began to run.

  Charlie kicked the bartender. “You, sick bastard!”

  “I was trying to help her. I’m going to sue you!” he bawled through his sobs. He was cowering as far from Charlie as he could get.

  “You’re a lying sack of shit is what you are! I recorded everything!” Charlie leaned over Sara and smoothed her hair. One of her diamond studs was missing. He spell-stole her heal and used it on her, not caring if the man saw it or what he thought.

  Paul returned and handed the wet cloths to him. “Should you take her sweater and snow pants off? She’s sweating like a pig.”

  He said, “The pants are evidence. I’m sure his prints are on them.”

  Charlie grinned a hard smile when the bartender moaned piteously. He debated and decided to leave her gloves on. The magic might not shock anyone while she wore them.

  He frowned as he removed her jacket, wishing now he hadn’t made the magic react when she was touched but he couldn’t change the past. If he could, he’d change more than that mistake. Her defensive shocks were making life harder for her and wasn’t the protection he’d hoped, but he had no idea how’d they’d done it or how to undo it.

  The magic was too literal. Because she’d donned the gloves willingly, the man had been able to touch her. Charlie knew removing them would make the magic shock anyone else, his mere presence might make it shock anyone else. He wasn’t certain how it would react and that was the problem.

  “Leave her alone,” he muttered as he removed her coat. He tried to think hard at the magic, begging it to retreat and stop whatever it was doing.

  Under her T-shirt, a rash went over her chest, up her neck, and down across her stomach.

  He placed the cold washcloths on the reddest splotches, and he sent Paul for more for her wrists. While Paul was out of the room, he spell stole her heal and used it again.

  The bartender screamed at the flash of light that burst from Charlie’s hands

  “Shut the fuck up!” he snapped, turning to glare at the man, who shrieked and huddled away. Charlie turned away before magical pressure made him do something unfortunate.

  He removed her boots and threw them into a corner, but he slid her pants off, being careful not to touch the top waistband himself. She wore long johns under her ski pants, which he left on.

  Her exposed skin appeared red and swollen. Sweat still streamed from her, dampening her hair and clothes.

  The man on the floor cried, whining threats to sue between sobs as he huddled in the corner, clutching his knees and rocking.

  Charlie kicked him in the leg. “One more fucking word and I’ll rip your head off.”

  He immediately regretted saying it. Not because it further terrified the man, he was glad the man was terrified, but because his magic began to push harder for him to kill him.

  Sara convulsed and began to vomit. Charlie rolled her onto her side and rubbed her back, glaring at the bartender. He really wanted to kill him, and it must have shown on his face or empowered his aura because the man began to scream.

  Paul ran back into the room.

  “Take him downstairs,” Charlie said as he grabbed the wet towels from Paul. “Have the police search him; she’s missing an earring and I want to know what the hell he used on her. Send the paramedics up.”

  Paul ran from the room.

  “She’s vomiting, Liz,” he said worriedly as soon as Paul left. “I healed her and she’s still unconscious.”

  “It’s the sedative, Charlie,” Liz said calmly. “Her body is trying to get rid of it. I don’t know if it’s something she was always allergic to or if her magic is trying to help her in its usual inept way. Paul, tell them it’s a priority to find out what he used. I’m guessing he used something fast acting but with a short duration. She could wake any minute now.”

  Charlie cast Spell-Steal on her again as soon as it was up and healed her. “Jesus, Liz, her fever is going up quick. Heals aren’t helping her.”

  His anger was quickly sliding into fear and his magic oozed from his skin. He didn’t bother try to call it— or force it back. He didn’t care if it showed. He really didn’t think he could stand much more of this. Just contemplating her loss tore a moan of anguish from him. It felt as if he’d just gotten her back, and here she was again on the brink of death. His heart stuttered erratically, the magic’s panic in perfect accord with his own.

  Sara was the magic— not only in his life but literally. He wasn’t sure what would happen to it if one of them were to die but he thought it would be a catastrophe beyond recovering from. The five of them held the magic inside themselves and he didn’t think those pieces could be retrieved if lost. He was certain the magic was as concerned as he that Sara would be unrevivable. Just thinking it brought the magic to all new highs of panic, and his voice was strident as he said, “What do I do?”

  “Get her into a tub of cool water. I’m pretty sure this is her magic. She’ll probably wake panicked. Beta will find you a spot and summon you. Doctor Gotlieb says don’t leave her alone, not for one minute.”

  Charlie picked her up and put her in the tub, clothes and all. “She’s starting to shiver. The rash is horrible.” The red had spread and formed large blisters that wept yellowish fluid. Charlie removed her long johns, getting soaked himself in the process. She vomited again and started to convulse.

  “What do I do, Liz?” he asked again piteously as he climbed into the tub to hold her.

  “She needs antihistamines.” Liz opened the phone line to Paul. “Paul, see if you can locate any Benadryl or allergy medicine from anyone there. The ambulance will be there in two more minutes. Get an EPI pen and use it on her immediately.”

  Liz cut the audio feed to Paul.

  Charlie made his screen bigger and positioned it above him. Oz stood beside Liz now, looking grim.

  Liz said, “Anyone else would’ve died by now, and she still might. Charlie could rez her, but if he rezs her with the poison still inside her, she’ll just d
ie again. Using her cure poison won’t work for a sedative. He’ll reach the rez timer and be unable to save her.”

  Charlie knew that but hearing her say it tore a moan from him.

  “Keep healing her,” Oz said needlessly. Charlie was using both his spell-bracelet and Spell-Steal to heal her.

  Liz said, “You need to control yourself too and not just to hide the magic but it’s going to scare hers more.”

  Charlie forced himself to take three slow deep breaths. Liz was right but it was easier said than done. He needed something else to concentrate on. Hopefully, something that would calm the magic that was spinning around them.

  “Report positions,” he said as authoritatively as he could.

  The raid began checking in. His pulse jumped when he saw his brother’s icon light.

  Marcus said, “We’re in sight. I can see the police have the fucking bastard surrounded now.”

  Rage infused Charlie, more for the sound of his voice then the content of his sentence, but he embraced it, using his anger to pull the magic inside himself.

  “Don’t kill the fucker,” he said although he wanted to order them too.

  Brenda laughed a harsh bark of laughter.

  Charlie said, “That’s a direct order!”

  Major Nelson said, “No one is killing anyone! Am I understood?”

  In unison, except for the three warriors, the raid icons flicked green. He wasn’t sure if Oz had put in a protocol for their responses to be last or if they were debating breaking their orders. He made a mental note to check and then put it out of his mind. He didn’t care if they broke them. In fact, he almost hoped they would although that would likely lead to more trouble than it was really worth.

  He was angry enough now to hold the magic in and he let himself imagine killing the man. Sara’s magic would like his rage over that. She herself wasn’t aware enough to worry over how angry he was. It was both a relief and aggravating to let himself be angry.

  If one of his team began to fight he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from joining in. He could barely stop himself now. If it had been anyone except Sara, he’d have run from the room to fight the man, but she needed him. Whether the magic knew that too or was just listening to him, he didn’t know, but he was able to remain in the room, calmly for the most part although his hands shook with the need to strike out.