Shrouded in Darkness

by H. D. Thomson

  A film of cold sweat covered her brow. She rubbed it off with the back of her hand.

  “I’m almost done,” she whispered, gliding a thumb against the edge of his skin. Margot didn’t want to think of the blood slick and warm against her fingers. She couldn’t afford to. Otherwise, she just might lose it. “I just have a couple more stitches.”

  Margot didn’t get an answer. Not that she expected one. She was probably stabbing him to death. She felt so inept.

  Finally, she finished. Sitting back, Margot looked at the track of black thread. It sat there as if suspended in air. She looked away, finding the image too eerie, too hard to fathom.

  “You can’t stand the sight of me, can you?”

  She tensed. “Jake. I’m still in shock. It’s not like I’ve come across an invisible man before. Give me some time to take it all in.”

  Margot grabbed another towel from the nightstand and wiped at her hands. Her stomach rolled with sudden nausea. No matter how hard she rubbed at skin, Jake’s blood continued to stain her hands.

  “Why can I see your blood, but not the rest of you? I don’t get it.”

  “It changes its composition when it leaves my body. I haven’t been able to identify the reason yet.”

  She nodded, unable to comprehend the pain and anxiety he’d gone through these last couple of weeks. It was all too much. It would have broken a lesser man.

  “You need your rest.” Margot stood, still having a hard time looking at him directly. “I’ll also get you some water. You’ve lost a lot of fluids.”

  She didn’t give Jake a chance to respond, but slipped from the room.

  When Margot came back with a glass of iced water, silence greeted her. On the bed, Jake’s prone figure remained in the same position. She didn’t know what to think. This was terrible. She couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not.

  She walked closer to the bed. When she noticed the gentle rise and fall of his shirt, she sighed in relief. For one crazy second Margot thought she’d killed him with a germ-incrusted needle. Until now, she hadn’t given herself the luxury of reacting, and she particularly didn’t want to delve into her feelings. If she did—

  A drink. God, she needed a glass of wine. She hungered for the way it took the edge off of everything. Not one bottle remained in the house. But the store was open. She could run to the car and—

  No.

  Enough. She’d completely lost control of her life. She’d let alcohol permeate her every waking thought and action. Not something Margot was proud of. But it was something she could change. That is, if she found enough strength.

  Margot put the glass of water down by the nightstand harder than she intended. Drops sloshed over the rim and onto her hand. She shook with need. Maybe just one glass. She could slip over to the store. No one would know. It would be so easy.

  No!

  Keep busy. Yes. She needed to keep busy. That should help. Any little thing might take her mind from wanting a drink.

  Margot reached over to clean up the first-aid kit and other items from the nightstand when she saw Jake’s wallet resting up against the brass lamp’s stand. She paused. Knowing she shouldn’t, knowing that it was absolutely none of her business, didn’t stop her from reaching over and picking up the billfold. Really. When was the last time she’d kept her nose out of anyone’s business?

  She opened the wallet and saw a Massachusetts driver’s license on top of several other cards. With nervous, fumbling fingers, she pulled the plastic from its slot.

  Margot’s grip tightened on the leather. The picture didn’t look familiar. She glanced at the name. Jake Preston. Age, 38. Height, six-feet, two-inches. Weight, 193 pounds. Blond hair, blue eyes. This man looked the complete opposite of the Jake she’d come to know.

  Gold hair, thick and cut close to the scalp, capped a strong, square face—a face warmed from the sun’s rays and not at all like the pale complexion she’d become accustomed to. Thick brows, several shades darker than his hair, topped light blue, intelligent eyes. His nose and the strong thrust of his jaw were the only characteristics she recognized, but only after studying the picture for a full minute.

  She was shocked at how well Jake had disguised himself. The image in the photo didn’t compare to the man on the bed. While Jake was dark, this man was light.

  Also, there was no denying the man in the photo was gorgeous. The female in her couldn’t help but respond to the rugged strength and masculinity of his features. Though the other Jake, the one she’d come to know, was someone she’d responded to on a completely different level. A level far deeper than any physical attraction. It was something more instinctual, more primitive and far more powerful than anything she’d ever encountered in the opposite sex.

  Hearing Jake stir, Margot almost dropped the wallet. She glanced over and saw he’d risen up on an elbow.

  “You’re very attractive,” she said without thinking, and flushed.

  “Why, thank you.”

  At his amusement, Margot’s face warmed yet further. She’d never been good at flirting. She’d never had the time. Getting her degree, working up the corporate ladder had consumed her days. Then she’d met Malcolm, a client, at the firm she worked for. From there, her life had gone downhill. While now—now she couldn’t exactly describe where her life was going. But if she’d ever craved excitement, she had it now. More than she could have ever bargained for.

  “If it wasn’t for the name on your license, I never would have recognized you. You look—well, you look different.” She snapped the wallet closed and placed it back on the nightstand.

  “Good. That was the whole point. I didn’t want anyone from Miltronics suspecting that I’d survived. If word got out, I’d be dead by now.”

  “But Malcolm knows or at least suspects.”

  “Yeah, he knows. But he isn’t about to talk. He has his own motives. Plus, right now, he needs me.”

  “Because of the formula?”

  “That, but more importantly the antidote.” His voice had grown sluggish, making her realize how much talking had drained the little energy he had.

  “I’ll let you get some rest, but first, I wanted to thank you. I would have been seriously hurt if it hadn’t been for you. Instead, you were the one injured.”

  “Forget it. I would have done it again no matter what.”

  Something in his voice—a fierceness, an urgency—made her glance over at his figure. She saw the stitches in mid-air, the empty holes below his shirtsleeves and pant legs and looked quickly at the floor. She still found his appearance unsettling.

  “You really hate looking at me, don’t you? Tell me the truth this time.”

  She stiffened. “Why do you think that?”

  “Oh, come off it, Margot! Who wouldn’t have a problem? I’m a damn freak—some sick apparition who’d turn anyone’s stomach. Why do you think I tried keeping this from you? It wasn’t just the danger. Okay, that had a hell of a lot to do with it. I knew I couldn’t handle you looking at me like you are now—with revulsion.”

  She gazed at Jake in horror. “Is that what you think?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Just hours ago you were running and screaming at the sight of me.”

  He was right. Denying it would be a lie. So instead, Margot changed the subject.

  “We need to talk. Not right now, of course. But when you’re better. I deserve some answers, and not what you think I need to hear. I want all the truth.”

  “Yeah. I think it’s time.”

  Nodding, Margot slipped from the room. In the hall, the tears came. She wiped at them, but they continued spilling down her cheeks.

  She tried to tell herself that Jake hadn’t changed, that he was the same man from yesterday. She thought of those nights in his arms, of how his touch had made her feel cherished, beautiful, needed. He’d made her feel like a woman again.

  That had all changed within a matter of seconds.

  ###

  Several hours later, Jake foun
d Margot sitting at her desk and bent over the computer keyboard. Unable to stand another minute with himself and his racing thoughts, he’d pulled himself from the bed and made his way down the hall. Plus, he couldn’t afford to lie around when each minute passed and the future and his mortality loomed closer and closer.

  He felt like crap. The ibuprofen helped somewhat, but it still seemed as if his head was on overload and about to crash.

  Jake paused in the doorway. The mid-afternoon sun shone into the room from the large bay window. He squinted against the too bright light, and winced as his stitches pulled against his skin. He’d become accustomed to the dark, either by using his glasses or keeping to shadowed rooms.

  Margot must have sensed his presence, because she stopped typing at the computer and looked up. She swiveled in her chair and glanced around the room.

  After a moment, she asked, “Jake?”

  “I’m right here. By the door.”

  Frowning, she turned, then gasped. “I don’t see any clothes. My, God. You’re naked!”

  “Yeah.”

  Margot stood up so quickly that the chair jerked backward and hit the bookshelves with a thump. She looked about ready to bolt. Probably at the idea of him running around naked and invisible.

  Jake sighed. Obviously, he’d shocked the hell out of her. Again. It looked like it was becoming a common occurrence.

  “Why!” she demanded. “Why no clothes?”

  “I thought it would be easier this way than watching me walk around like some headless horseman. I know how upsetting you find it.”

  “Oh.”

  “I just don’t want—” Jake hated explaining his fallibilities. “Damn it. I just don’t want you seeing me like some sick freak.”

  “What? Don’t even think it!” Her features softened with what looked like sympathy. “Right now, you’re just different. If it wasn’t for your condition, you’d look like the man pictured in your license, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Plus, it’s a temporary condition.” At his silence she frowned. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m beginning to believe it’s permanent.”

  “Permanent? I never thought—I just believed you’d come up with the antidote and everything would be back to normal for you.” She closed her eyes as if in pain, and then reopened them. “Pretty naive, eh?”

  “No, just optimistic.”

  With Margot, and only Margot, he’d let himself become vulnerable. Right now, she was having enough problems dealing with his abnormality. What would she think of him if she learned the complete truth? Any feelings she still retained for him would vanish like dead ash against a bitter wind.

  Jake balled his hands into fists. She wouldn’t hear it from him. Shame kept him silent. So much of it that he couldn’t face his own actions without flinching in self-loathing.

  The only one who knew everything was Malcolm.

  His tread silent on the thick carpet, Jake walked into the room. Margot’s scent drifted to him. Sunshine and flowers.

  Damn, but she was beautiful. That thick mane of raven hair begged for him to bury his fingers in their silken strands. With just one look, those oh-so-large brown eyes of hers could bring him to his knees. He wanted to cradle her in his arms and take away the confusion and hurt from her eyes.

  He stopped a foot in front of her, and brushed a knuckle against her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so damn sorry.”

  Margot flinched and turned away.

  Then suddenly, she glanced up, and Jake caught her unmasked expression. It was far from revulsion. Hot brown, liquid eyes stared back at him. Hunger. His groin tightened and his chest expanded. He wanted her, wanted her body locked against his own, wanted her moaning and writhing for him and only him. He lifted a shaking hand, the urge to slide his fingers in those satin strands too overwhelming to ignore. She must have sensed what he planned to do, because she slipped quickly from between him and her desk.

  “Don’t. Not now. I can’t seem to think straight when you touch me.” Margot shook her head and backed further away. “I don’t want to be more confused than I already am.”

  She crossed her arms against her middle and pleaded, “Talk to me, Jake. I want to know. I need to know. Where you’re concerned, I feel like I’ve been walking along a precipice. You’ve got me so confused.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. The beginning. The end. Not just the short version you gave me the last time.”

  “The beginning.” Suddenly Jake was bone weary, exhausted beyond his years. He sank down into the nearest chair.

  “Yes, the beginning.”

  “Well, you know a good part of it already.” He started to rake his hand through his hair, then remembered his stitches. “Miltronics. Everything begins and ends there. About a week before the blast, John caught wind of a conversation Malcolm had with one of the suits. He heard ‘kill’ and ‘take care of it’. Then there was Malcolm, acting distant, colder than usual. Something was up, and we sure the hell knew it wasn’t good. So we acted. Johnny copied the formula and took off. I stayed behind, and smuggled several vials of Miracell from the building. The plan was to delete everything from the system. At the time, I hadn’t a clue that Malcolm planned to blow Miltronics to hell and back.”

  “I still don’t get that. Why? What’s the motivation? Malcolm loved that company.”

  “John was bailing from the company and threatening to talk. I also wanted out. I hadn’t said anything, but I know Malcolm suspected. He didn’t trust either one of us. It got to the point when I knew I had to do something. Miracell was too damn dangerous in Malcolm or anyone else’s hands. It just had too much power. Malcolm’s fears of Miracell becoming public knowledge were becoming a reality. He knew if that happened, he’d lose everything anyway. He decided to blow up the department and the people inside it to sever all ties to the formula. He counted on having the formula safeguarded beforehand though.”

  Margot walked over to the adjacent chair and fell against the cushions. She rubbed the back of her neck. She looked as exhausted as he felt.

  He hated thinking back to that time. “Remember, I told you that I had John safeguard a copy of the formula? It was because I planned on destroying everything. The day of the blast, I was in the process of deleting every computer record I could get my hands on when Malcolm walked in on me. I know Malcolm had every intention of making copies, but I beat him to it.”

  “Malcolm saw what I was doing and lost it. I remember him screaming at me, but nothing of what he said.” Jake swallowed and rose to his feet. He hated this part. “We fought. He had me up against the desk. There was a vial of Miracell and a syringe already prepared by my shoulder. I’d missed both earlier. Hell, I thought I’d gotten rid of the lot.

  “Well, I knew I had to destroy both. I managed to toss the vial and break it against the floor, but we struggled over the syringe. All that rage made him stronger. He had me against the wall. We were both grappling with the syringe. I remember he had his elbow jammed into my throat, and I was getting dizzy and losing oxygen. It was enough to lose my grip on his other arm. He stabbed me with the syringe and injected the serum into me.

  “When I managed to get him off me, I think I caught my foot on the leg of a desk. I lost my balance and hit by head. I blacked out. When I came to, I found myself on the floor. Malcolm was gone. The syringe was on the floor beside me. Empty. He left me there to die.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jake.” Margot, with unshed tears glistening against the afternoon sunlight, seemed to stare right into his soul. “You’ve been through so much.”

  Damn. He loved her. Margot had such compassion. If only she could see how much she had to offer someone if she just gave herself a chance.

  Jake cleared his throat and moved restlessly around the room. “Yes, well. Shit happens.”

  She frowned. “How did you get away with everyone thinking of you as dead, though? With today
’s technology, it’s pretty hard to fake your own death. Especially if there’s a missing body.”

  Tensing, Jake stopped by a bookcase against the wall and gripped one of the wood shelves. She was getting too close. “It’s amazing what one can do when you’re invisible.” He tried not to sound bitter. “A visit to a certain dental office. Then of course there’s the police department and lab.”

  She slipped a strand of hair behind her ear. “So everyone thinks you’re dead?”

  “There’s my sister who knows I’m alive, but little else. I couldn’t let her know everything for her own safety.”

  “And Malcolm?”

  “Well, he’s not going anywhere.”

  “Why? You never told me what you put in his house and car to have the police arrest him.”

  “Invisibility has its advantages. I planted some coke in his car while he met with a business associate. Then I finished up with some at his house along with a nice supply of stolen guns.”

  “I can’t even imagine Malcolm’s reaction.”

  Jake laughed without humor. “It wasn’t pretty.”

  The room fell into silence.

  Margot started to speak but stopped and frowned. After a moment, her brow cleared. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  “Yeah.”

  Restless, he moved to the far corner of the room. She was far too perceptive. “There’s been many a moment where I’ve tried to ignore the inevitable...”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s the attacks. Every time they bring reality crashing back. They’re not going away, no matter how much I’d like to pretend otherwise. With each passing day, they’re more severe and frequent.”

  He swallowed, finding this tougher than he’d imagined. The silence lengthened as he tried to find the right words. Then he gave up and cleared his throat.

  “I’m dying.”

  Chapter 16

  Two words. Just two little words. But they had such overwhelming power. Margot closed her eyes against the pain they evoked. She didn’t want to hear the truth, didn’t want anything to do with it.