Watermark (The Emerald Series Book 3)

by James, Kimberly

  There were too many voices. Too many sounds. Constant beeps and high-pitched shrill noises. The ceiling threatened to crush him. The walls were closing in from all sides.

  Jamie ignored the voices and closed his eyes, forcing a picture into his mind: Erin standing in the window with her dark hair flowing over her shoulders, her eyes wide and trained on him. Her lips moving around his name. The sound of it echoed in his mind.

  Jamie.

  It calmed him. It settled the monster writhing under his water-deprived skin. He wasn't a monster. He was Jamie. He'd expected this—the discomfort. He'd known this place would be cold and sterile. Stifling.

  It was what he wanted. Jamie wanted to be here. It was the only way he could escape her.

  "Sir, you shouldn't be in here without a suit." The voice was muffled, as if it were coming from under a blanket.

  "I'll risk it." Sharp, clipped tone.

  Jamie knew that voice. He turned his head, eyes searching. A familiar face floated over him. What was that burning behind his eyes? Jamie blinked as relief coursed through him. He knew this face.

  "Jamie… son."

  The face had a name. Marshall.

  Jamie tried to speak, tried to answer, but nothing came out but a frustrated grunt. What was wrong with him? The words churned in his mind. They were the right words, but his mouth refused to speak them.

  "Jamie. Do you want to see your family?" Marshall asked.

  Yes.

  Their eyes locked and held. Marshall leaned closer with a slight nod of his chin. "You need to remain calm and we'll let you see them. You need to cooperate. Do you understand?"

  Jamie saw the gloved hand and the needle it held out of the corner of his eye. He tensed, his eyes widening.

  "No more," Marshall said.

  “But sir…”

  "I said, no more."

  Jamie sensed the power struggle between Marshall and the other humans in the room. The fight for dominance teased his beast. This was his fight too. He needed Marshall.

  Marshall looked at him, his gaze purposeful. "Jamie, do you understand?"

  Jamie nodded. Marshall relaxed and said, "Give him some space."

  Thank you.

  The bodies that had been pressing in on him retreated, taking the needle and their drugs. The monster in him retreated along with them.

  Air. It flowed into his mouth and filled his lungs. Finally he could breathe.

  "Why don't you all take a break," Marshall said.

  Yes. Leave. Everyone leave.

  He’d known he could count on Marshall.

  "I'm not sure we should leave you alone in here, Mr. Shaw."

  "This man is my responsibility, Dr. Somers. I'll be fine. You can go."

  Jamie sensed the emptying of the room and forced his muscles to relax, concentrated on breathing air. Inhale. Exhale. Slow and steady, one breath at a time. The air would make him better. The air would bring him back. He wanted this. He wished he could tell Marshall. He wished he could thank him.

  He blinked once to ward off the light overhead. He wished they'd turn if off.

  Marshall's face wavered over him. "Jamie, son. What the hell happened to you?"

  Jamie wished he knew.

  16

  We’d dropped Caris at her house, handing her over to an anxious Mr. Harper and headed straight for the Facility, the place where Jamie received his physicals during his training. The place they’d collected all the data on him they could in the name of research. Caris had already called Noah and informed him of the events at the school and by the time my dad and I arrived at the Facility, Noah and his mom were waiting on us. My dad had escorted us inside the obscure building and left us in a designated waiting area before disappearing behind a door he’d accessed with a keycard. That had been two hours ago.

  To say Noah was getting restless would be a colossal understatement. A woman in a white coat and glasses with a name tag that read Dr. Somers had come out an hour ago and offered us some bottled water. I hadn't touched mine. Noah's was empty, and the bottle crackled every time his fingers closed around the plastic, which was often.

  “Noah, would you please stop.”

  Noah’s fingers stilled at the softly spoken request from his mom. While Noah was a nervous wreck, Mrs. Jacobs appeared calm and collected. She was wearing a pair of faded denim jeans and her right sandal tapped mercilessly on one of the legs of her chair with every flick of her foot.

  Were they torturing us on purpose?

  "This place is a prison," Noah said. "What the hell is taking so long?"

  I shifted in my metal chair. Noah got up from his spot beside me and carried his bottle over to a trashcan. The bottle clattered in the empty rectangle as the door I’d been staring my eyes blind at opened and my dad finally appeared.

  "Halaflippinluea," Noah said, throwing his arms in the air.

  I rose to my feet and grabbed Noah's arm, mostly out of habit. I needed his support.

  “How is he?” Mrs. Jacobs’s voice cracked with suppressed emotion, which didn't help Noah's agitated state. I was a little put out myself, and thought they better have a good reason for making us wait so long.

  “Safe," my dad said. “Disoriented,” he added as though running down a mental checklist. “Physically he seems healthy. Fully functioning at least. But mentally… can’t say for sure.”

  I wasn't sure what that meant. Noah's face had fallen into blank relief and the arm under my fingers felt coiled and tight.

  “So he’s awake?” This from Mrs. Jacobs.

  “Yes, he’s awake. God knows how," he said, squeezing the back of his neck with one hand.

  “When can we see him?” I asked.

  “It won't be today,” my dad said with an understandable degree of reluctance.

  “Why not?” Noah and I asked in unison.

  “They need more time to get a handle on the situation, figure out what we’re dealing with. As soon as the doctors have evaluated him and deem him safe, we’ll let you see him. You’ll have to be patient."

  “What the hell are you talking about? I swear if you let them poke him and turn him into some kind of lab rat…” Noah started, clenching his fists as though he was close to slamming my dad against the wall.

  “Marshall, please," Mrs. Jacobs’s pleading tone diffused the building tension between my dad and Noah.

  My dad's eyes snapped to her face, something close to an apology reflected in his gaze. His jaw tightened. His voice, though, was tender and apologetic. “I want to, Lara, but it took four tranqs to bring him down. I had to call in a load of favors to even get the locals to let me handle it. I’m on your side here. But I’m also on the public’s side. We’ll take this one step at a time, and the first step is to see if he can come back from this.”

  His words settled into the cracks of the unsaid.

  Jamie was a prisoner, a dangerous one, and they were going to treat him like one.

  “Can he?” My dad looked pointedly at Noah.

  “Can he what?” Noah countered, clearly hostile.

  “Come back from this?”

  Noah sat back down in his chair and crossed his arms, clamping his mouth shut. He stared at my dad as they engaged in a silent battle of wills, one it seemed both were determined to win.

  “I don’t know," Noah finally said. "You think all your mad scientists got us figured out, you tell me.”

  “They may have thought they'd figured out a thing or two but what I brought them today blew all their theories out of the water." My dad laughed at his unintended pun. He was the only one. “They nearly pissed their pants when they saw Jamie.”

  Noah snorted. I wasn't sure I understood his animosity. I understood he was upset they wouldn't let us see Jamie, but this was…

  "I'm not telling you shit. Not when you'll have to report whatever I say to whoever is calling the shots about my brother's life. I don't trust these people."

  My gaze wandered to Mrs. Jacobs. She'd remained silent after her
initial question, and I wondered if she felt the same way Noah did.

  "Noah," Mrs. Jacobs admonished, though Noah ignored her.

  “What the hell is going on, Marshall? You can’t keep him locked up like this. You have no right.”

  “Jamie is under my command. That gives me the right.”

  "This is a prison, Mom. You know it and I know it."

  "That's not what's going down here." My dad was trying to reassure Noah, but I was beginning to feel as helpless as Noah obviously did.

  "How can you look at me and feed me that line of bullshit?" Noah asked.

  "You know what, you're right." My dad ran his hand over his cropped hair, a gesture he rarely employed. It wasn’t often my dad was so rattled he didn’t know what to do, didn’t know exactly what to say.

  “Do you know how many calls have come in since this went down? The sheriff’s office, the major’s office, the police department—all of them ringing off the hook. They can’t handle the volume. The governor is set for a conference call to discuss this with General Holloway. The media is salivating. Do you know how many videos we’ve been in the process of intercepting before they can go viral and start a panic? We’ve got every tech guy on it. They can’t keep up. And it’s not just here. We’ve fielded calls from governor’s offices of at least ten other coastal states. It’s not just the welfare of this tribe that’s being affected. Tribes everywhere are now under scrutiny. Jamie sure picked a hell of a way to officially bring you out of the closet.”

  “A bunch of landers overreacting as usual. You’d think aliens were invading.” Noah laughed skeptically.

  “Dammit, Noah this is not a joke. This situation is bigger than you now. It’s bigger than me. And you’re only as good as your lowest common denominator, and right now that makes all of you monsters in their eyes because that’s what I brought them. A monster. They’re not going to let him go. Not anytime soon. Maybe not ever. He’s clearly a threat. I’m sorry, but my influence is somewhat limited now.”

  “He’s not a threat,” Noah insisted and after all my dad had just confessed, I wanted so badly to believe him.

  I hadn’t thought this through at all. It was worse than I could have imagined. No wonder Noah was so upset. This potentially changed everything for them. And I realized he wasn't just angry, he was scared. And that scared me too.

  “Are you telling me he can come back from this? That there’s some magic formula? Because if there is, please enlighten me. I have a stake in this too in case you’ve forgotten.”

  Noah's eyes cut to mine briefly, long enough for me to see the conflict brewing. “I’m not telling you anything. I can’t trust you.”

  As if deciding Noah was beyond rational he pulled up a chair and scooted it in front of Mrs. Jacobs.

  “Lara, I know this is your son we’re talking about. Erin's husband. My son-in-law. I’m handling this in the best way as I see it.”

  “So none of us really have any objectivity here,” Mrs. Jacobs said, her tone conciliatory.

  “No. But I have to act like I do. Otherwise I’m on the outside. I won’t do Jamie any good from the outside. I understand your frustration. Believe me, I share it.” My dad stopped long enough to give Noah a hard look when he snorted. “I’m on your side. So I need to know if he can come back from this at all. I need reassurances. The people breathing fire down my neck insist on them.”

  Mrs. Jacobs looked at Noah and a silent agreement passed between them. She nodded.

  “Yes,” Noah finally conceded. My dad’s shuddered breath reeked of reprieve or a noose loosening around his neck. “But to what extent, I don’t know.”

  My dad chewed on Noah's vague answer for a few minutes, and his next words were weighed and measured.

  “He’s in a dry cell. They'll feed in a healthy dose of Gulf water every hour, enough he won’t dry out. It’s speculated keeping him mostly dry will reverse the effects the water seems to have had on his DNA. As if it was his life support and without it he’ll go back to being normal.”

  Normal. As if any of them thought that Noah and his kind were normal. And if they had, they certainly didn’t now.

  “If you say so.” Noah's metal chair scraped across the floor. "Since I'm not going to get to see my brother, I need to get out of here.” He made for the door, and I decided to follow him.

  "You coming?" Noah turned and asked his mom.

  "I'll be out in a minute," she said.

  Noah gave my dad some indecipherable look then reached for the door.

  "Noah," my dad called before he could open it.

  "Sir."

  “With any luck we can spin this as some kind of elaborate internet hoax. But don’t think there’s not more than enough people who have been waiting for something like this to happen. I doubt Erin will be going back to school. I've already talked to Patrick and told him not to let Caris go back either. Watch your back, and watch your moms.”

  "You don't have to remind me to take care of my family," Noah said and walked out with me close on his heels.

  "I don't understand, Noah," I said when we finally made it to the parking lot. "Why are you acting so belligerent? My dad is trying to help."

  "Because, Erin. They've finally got what they want in Jamie. A real reason to be afraid of us."

  "I guess I don't understand then. If Jamie showing himself was going to cause so much trouble for your kind, why would he do it?"

  "I'm not sure Jamie is thinking clearly, but I can't say until I see him which they are not letting me do." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I hate this helpless feeling. I don't mean to take it out on you."

  "It's okay. That part I understand. But Noah, you know my dad cares about Jamie too."

  "I know and it scares me he doesn't seem to be totally in control of the situation. If he were, I wouldn't be so worried."

  We had sided up to Noah's Bronco and stared at the inconspicuous building. I didn't like the idea of Jamie being drugged and at the mercy of scientists who would see him as more of a specimen than human.

  A few minutes later, the outside door opened and my dad and Mrs. Jacobs walked out. It was nearing dusk and the setting sun cast them in shadow. He held her hand in his and he leaned in close to say something Noah and I were too far away to hear. Her arms slipped around his shoulders, and my dad hugged her. She leaned into him and his hand touched her hair. As I watched their intimate display a knot formed in my throat.

  "Yeah, and then there's that," Noah said, crossing his feet and arms, staring holes through my dad.

  "What?" I said as our parents walked toward us with my dad's hand pressed into the small of her back. She wiped her eyes and something my dad said made her smile. "Our parents?"

  "They're friends.” Noah’s tone was fat with sarcasm. His look told me he didn't believe that for a second. I didn't know what to believe and really, it hardly mattered to me right now.

  Jamie mattered.

  "Erin," my dad said when they approached. He opened the door for Mrs. Jacobs and she slid behind the wheel. "Would you let them drop you off at your moms? I probably won’t be home until late, if at all."

  “Dad…” I started to protest.

  “Do it, Erin," he said. "For me.”

  “Okay,” I capitulated. I didn't want to be alone anyway.

  “Thanks, baby,” he said as if I'd taken a huge load off his shoulders.

  The engine turned over and Noah took his place in the front passenger seat. The three of us were looking at my dad with heavy expectations and I knew he was afraid of disappointing us, of failing Jamie.

  "I'm doing all I can," he said. "The rest is up to Jamie."

  * * *

  My mom's balcony overlooked the main street of Rosemary Beach, and I sat, drinking a cup of coffee, my picked over omelet discarded on the coffee table between the two love seats. The small town bustled with activity. Bike riders and joggers crowded the sidewalks. People were walking their dogs. A pair of lucky Corgies were getting a ride from their owne
rs in the baskets on the handlebars of their bikes and appeared to be loving every minute of it. Most of the shops were in the process of opening. My mom's business was located beneath us and her assistant, Liz, had waved at me earlier when she'd arrived to unlock the storefront.

  Everyone's life, the world, moving on like nothing had changed when everything had changed.

  "Not hungry?" my mom asked as she sat across from me, eyeing my discarded plate. The balcony wasn't overly large and the furniture took up most of the space.

  "Not really. Too nervous."

  “Were you able to sleep?” She was dressed for work in a sleeveless blouse and right above-the-knee-length skirt. Low-slung heels and the minimum of gold jewelry accented her classy yet casual look.

  "No." I'd tried to sleep. But every time I’d closed my eyes, I saw Jamie and those green eyes as he tried for all he was worth to get to me as though his life depended on it.

  "You can go down to work. I’ll be okay." Earlier, my mom insisted on coming with me to see Jamie. I'd insisted she didn't. I wanted do to this alone. I needed to see Jamie alone. My mom had never been a fan of Jamie. She'd always believed he'd seduced me, taken advantage of a naive sixteen-year-old. No amount of protestations of love on my part could change her mind.

  I felt certain she wouldn't be a fan now. I'd kept descriptions of him minimal, going out of my way to make what he was sound less beastly. Another reason I didn't want her to go—I didn't want her to see him like he was. I clung to the hope he would get better.

  "I'll wait until your father gets here. It shouldn't be long."

  A breeze tunneled up the street from the Gulf. A swath of emerald green was visible from where I sat. I imagined Jamie didn't share such a luxury. But for him, it wasn't a luxury to see and smell the Gulf. It was a necessity, and I felt another stab of apprehension.

  For the few weeks Jamie and I were married, I would often wake in the night and find the bed beside me empty. I'd gone looking for him the first few times. He was always on the beach, lying under the broad night sky. He preferred being outdoors to the confines of his house. Even then he hadn't been able to stay under a roof for very long. And now, beast that he was, I imagined the effects of being locked up would be worse. I wondered if he could survive such a confinement.