“What was his best camping skill?” Ash asked, and when Cooper glanced his way, the sympathetic smile made his heart stutter. Ash was mourning Jared too – he knew that – but he possessed a genuine curiosity about him, and wanted to know him better.
“He sucked at fire, so I usually did that. Jared could build a shelter out of anything, though. One time we came upon a stand of old slippery-bark elms. He used the bark that had fallen off the biggest trees. He used fibers from old dogbane plants, twisted them into a rope, and used the rope to tie the bark onto a structure we made out of saplings and fallen branches. It looked like shingles of a house.” Cooper gazed through the trees, as though he expected Jared to ghost toward them with the wisp of the coalescing fog.
“I’ll miss him,” Ash said, decisive and morose at the same time. “Do you realize he was the only one of us who could see all the energy frequencies? He was the one who figured out what the holy ground was all about, and the cemetery, and who could tell us if anyone’s shields were leaking.” Ash paused. “Plus, he was funny. And nice.”
Cooper moved the crisp bacon strips onto slices of bread. “He was. Do you know he felt inadequate for only seeing power? I think he would’ve given his right hand to be able to manipulate it.”
“Did people give him shit?”
“Just the kids,” Cooper said with a nod. “I didn’t understand it at the time, because I didn’t have any myself, and the family kept me in the dark about this kind of stuff. Remember what grandma said. I was the one with a chance at a normal life.” He used air quotes around “normal life,” then cracked the eggs and dropped them into the hot bacon grease.
A sizzle fixated his attention to the clear egg whites turning opaque around the edges.
“Smells great,” Ash said.
Cooper didn’t respond. He frowned. “It never occurred to me, but I think we were as close as all this because we failed at magic. I didn’t know it at the time, but he did, and he probably felt sorry for me.” An involuntary, bitter laugh tore its way out of Cooper’s chest. “And then he died helping me! Fuck, Ash. If it wasn’t for me asking for help, he’d still be alive.”
“If it wasn’t for you asking for help, a lot of innocent people would be dead.” A wet arm pulled Cooper into a wet chest. Ash’s warm breath against his ear made Cooper realize he was getting chilled. He shivered.
“Let’s eat,” Cooper said. He stirred the eggs impatiently, turning five lovely sunny-side-ups into a mess of congealed protein, and taking pleasure in their destruction.
Maybe he didn’t deserve perfect eggs.
“Baby.” A reproachful whisper, and another kiss from Ash. “This was not your fault. We all did our best. Even Hank, and think how Hank must be feeling now. He didn’t get to do much, even though he’d been ready to take the bullet for us all.”
Cooper shook his head silently. This business of taking bullets had to stop.
Ash pushed him aside gently while he rescued the eggs. “Ouch!” he yelped as he touched the hot handle of the skillet. “Why don’t you use a mitten, or something?”
Cooper shrugged. “It’s heat. I’m rock. It’s okay.”
“And I’m water,” Ash said. He closed his eyes in concentration, then reached for the skillet again.
A hiss of steam rose at first, but was soon drowned in a trickle of water that came out of Ash’s hand. He tilted the skillet to keep the eggs dry, and moved it over the sodden ground to protect the hot coals.
“Neat trick,” Cooper said, and to his surprise, he smiled. “Just don’t get any water inside the skillet, okay?”
Ash nodded. “I know. “ He divided the eggs between the two slices of bread, wiped the inside with a dry paper towel, and set it aside. He then ripped off two sheets of paper towels, and handed one to Cooper along with his dinner.
Cooper nodded. “Thanks.”
The eggs were overdone – but at least the skillet had survived Ash’s elementalist interference.
ASH SLEPT WELL despite the thin, padded mats with just a bit of extra air blown into them. Their sleeping bags were zipped together, and they both slept in the nude, because they were alone and what was the point of getting their spare clothing soaked? Gentle rain still whispered against the tent’s green walls, but even though water was his element, Ash had no desire to get wet again. He pressed his chest into Cooper’s side, relishing the comfort of his lover’s solid arm under his neck.
So warm. So natural.
They were good together, and for the first time, Ash realized that he wanted them to be like this forever. Cooper loved him, he loved Cooper. The fact that they didn’t get to “the big event,” as Cooper had jokingly called anal sex, didn’t matter.
Maybe someday. Now, Ash just wanted to hold Cooper, and be held by him. He wanted to savor the musk of his armpits, the tickle of a patch of hair on his chest. His warmth, his caring. His love.
The birds began to sing.
“Hey,” Cooper said, still half asleep, turned toward Ash, and pulled him in like a rag doll. “What time is it?”
“Early.”
“Gotta go outside,” Cooper whispered.
“Me, too,” Ash said. He’d been resisting a pit stop for the last half an hour in favor of sharing Cooper’s heat.
Once they were done watering the trees, they dried off with a towel and climbed into the still-warm sleeping bag again.
“You hungry?” Cooper asked. “We have bananas and Pop-Tarts.”
“We also have coffee. I’d put some up, if only we had fire.”
Cooper stretched. “We probably don’t. And Jesse will be coming at noon to pick us up.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I’d rather have you than coffee this morning.”
Ash rolled his eyes at Cooper’s clumsy attempt at seduction. “I can also feed you a banana,” he said, going for the worst cliche ever.
“Hush,” Cooper laughed. “Don’t scare me away. All I want to do is hold you.”
In the end, they did a lot more than just that.
WHEN JESSE’S BOAT puttered toward the landing beach, Cooper was there to catch the rope and tie it around the stump.
Jesse cut the engine. “So, how was it? Are you wet enough?”
“Wet and happy,” Cooper said with a grin. “This is a neat place. So... how high is the river?”
“Unexpected flooding downtown. The Mon Wharf parking lot is closed, but that happens several times a year.” Jesse shrugged. “Hey, it’s Pittsburgh. If you don’t like the weather, wait half an hour!”
The tentative brush of Ash’s energy alerted Cooper to his presence several feet behind him. He turned, just to see Ash with his arms full of camping gear.
Cooper scrambled down the cliff. “Hey, if you throw the stuff down here, I’ll get it on the boat!”
“Move aside,” Ash called out, and as soon as Cooper moved, he dumped the load onto the pebble beach. A cylindrical sleeping bag in its sheath rolled toward the water, and Cooper lunged after it. He plucked it off the ground before it had a chance to get wet.
“Throw it my way!” Jesse called out from the boat.
“Nah, I’ll walk it in.”
The river didn’t hate him anymore. Cooper didn’t know what had happened, but he’d felt its attitude mellow from threatening jealousy to a neutral, complacent acceptance.
He grabbed an armload, and after a moment’s hesitation, he waded into an element he didn’t understand and could never hope to control.
TAKING A HOT shower was the first order of business for Ash while Cooper pitched the tent in the basement to let it dry out. An hour later, when they were both warm and dry and their equipment was spread out and drying, Ash decided he absolutely didn’t want to cook, even though it was his turn. He picked up his phone and looked over their dining options.
“How about something hot,” Cooper suggested as he lifted his head from his laptop. “Like soup.”
“If we hustle, we can make it to the Strip. I hear one of the guys at
Smallman Galley makes a kick-ass bowl of ramen,” Ash said.
Minutes later, Ash was busy zig-zagging his ancient van around Pittsburgh’s potholes. They made it to the Strip District by quarter to three, parked, and ran through the incessant drizzle to get inside.
They burst through the doors. Warm smells of a brunch long gone enveloped them. The crowd at the tables looked thin, and the sounds of cooking in the small kitchen stalls were replaced by swift and efficient clean-up.
“Maybe they’re sold out,” Ash said. His face was so long, Cooper found it comical, and he was sorry that the fabled Aubergine Bistro’s ramen was all gone.
Few minutes later, they were both digging into a bowl of grits topped with sauteed shrimp.
“This doesn’t suck,” Ash admitted. “It’s not ramen, but I like the sesame oil and scallions on top.”
“I’m having grits only because that’s all he had left,” Cooper said. “I never really cared for grits, but it’s hot, and...” He had another spoonful. “Wow.”
They didn’t speak for a long while.
The crowd around them thinned, and the bar behind the long table closed down.
“This is –” Ash halted, shocked to see the water in their glasses shimmer.
Vibrate.
A crash of something falling of the wall punctuated the sudden, eerie silence.
“Earthquake!” Someone shouted.
“Everybody out!”
The glasses of water kept up their stuttering dance on the tabletop. A bottle crashed to the ground at the bar, but Ash didn’t stop to look what happened. He glanced around, then up at the swaying lights. He was California-raised, and his earlier training kicked in.
“Come on!” He tugged on Cooper’s hand. “Out!”
The familiar shriek of sirens split the air.
“Something happened somewhere, and somebody isn’t having a good day,” Ash said, pulling Cooper into the middle of Smallman Street and away from the antiquated poles with their electrical wires swaying on a windless afternoon. He turned to Cooper. “Hon?”
Cooper was clutching his head. “Fuck, fuck,” he chanted softly. His eyes were screwed shut and the pallor of his skin resembled the gray clouds in the sky.
“What are you picking up?” Ash whispered urgently.
“It wasn’t me. Us. The flooding, yeah, that was you for sure. But not the earthquake!”
“Cooper. Breathe.” Ash grabbed Cooper’s upper arms. “You need to focus. Ground and center.”
“I am,” Cooper gasped through a haze of apparent pain. “Which is how I can feel that sonovabitch.”
“Brian?” Ash hazarded a guess.
Cooper gave a small nod. Then he opened his eyes. “There’s good news, and there’s bad news.”
“Do tell.” Ash frowned. Cooper better be all right when all of this was over. He better not follow his cousin into the Void or wherever Jared had ended up.
“The good news is, I finished the plans for the house. Y’know, our house. By the river.”
“Yes?” Ash was pleased, but even though his eyebrows shot up with surprise, he didn’t see how that was relevant to their current emergency.
“The bad news,” Cooper said after a long, controlled exhale. “I’ll have to upgrade the platform and make the house earthquake-proof. ’Cause from what I’m feeling now, we will be dealing with Brian and his ilk for quite a while.”
THE END
Thank you for reading LIKE A TORRENT! If you enjoyed reading this book as much as I have enjoyed writing it, please leave a review at the retailer site of your choice! I thank you for your support, which makes it possible for me to keep on writing.
Book 3, LIKE A SURGE, will be out in October 2917, if all goes according to plan. If you’d like to find out more about Cooper and Ash, claim the free book below and join my newsletter! You will get an occasional free read, news of sales, special publications, and new releases.
Look out for news of a “between volumes” short story from the Disorderly Elements series: “Inside a Crowded Blade.” (Yes, the title is something of a spoiler. Sorry, not sorry :-) )
Did you love Like a Torrent? Then you should read Flux by Olivette Devaux!
Seething glass furnaces, sizzling attraction, and sly sabotage bring suspense, camaraderie among men, and murder in this stand-alone contemporary industrial thriller. The vibrant, gritty Pittsburgh factory in "Flux" could launch Eli and Bo on a path to a lifelong relationship – or send the two men to the morgue. In matters of the heart, glass is not the only fragile material.In this high-tech adventure Olivette Devaux will leave you breathless and yearning for more!
NOW AVAILABE ON AUDIO!
Read more at Olivette Devaux’s site.
Also by Olivette Devaux
Cancelled Czech Files
I am here for you
Disorderly Elements Short Stories
Zero Power Signature
Within a Crowded Blade
Three Solstice Gifts
Disordery Elements
Like a Torrent
Like a Surge
Like a Phoenix
Like a Freeze
Like a Rock
International Affairs
The Fighting Dutchman
Lucky Starflowers
Yellow Peonies
Steel City Story
Lucky Starflowers
WILD HORSES
HORSEPLAY
Standalone
Adrenaline Rush
Flux
Watch for more at Olivette Devaux’s site.
Also by Mason Winters
Disordery Elements
Like a Torrent
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About the Author
Olivette Devaux focuses on writing stories of love, where adventure is always an element. Whether contemporary or paranormal, and regardless of sexual orientation, she likes to leave both her characters and her readers with a happy ending.
Olivette writes thrillers and speculative fiction as Kate Pavelle, and YA science fiction and fantasy as K.S.Pavelle. She's hard to reach, because she believes her readers would rather read her books than her social media posts. If you ever need to bribe her, try either orange peel dipped in dark chocolate, or chardonnay.
Read more at Olivette Devaux’s site.
About the Publisher
Like a Torrent Page 18
