by Jamie Zakian
“I saw you.” Lucius turned to face Cyrus and his smile dropped. “At the lake.”
“I saw you too,” Cyrus said as he unpacked a new flat screen television.
“With that woman.”
“Don’t start, Lucius.”
“Antiserum!” He crashed his fist against a table, cracking it down the center. “My name is Antiserum.”
“Why?” Cyrus stood tall. “Because Lucius Grant wouldn’t do things like this?”
“You do things like this with me.”
“I’m a loyal fool. What’s your excuse?”
Lucius walked toward the shiny new television and brought back his foot to kick its screen.
“I paid for that with your debit card,” Cyrus called out.
“Ahh!” Lucius stormed from the room, punching broken windows on his way out.
After ten minutes of moving food around a plate, Shay set down her fork.
“Too spicy?” Evie asked, sipping a glass of wine.
“I’m not that hungry.” The rice had done wonders for her stomach but the chicken; spicy was an understatement, more like fiery chunks of razor blade.
“You’ve been quiet. I thought you’d jump on a chance to rub the dual soul thing in my face. Is something bothering you?”
“What would be bothering me, Evie?” Shay looked at Evie, unable to control her harsh glares.
“You were up last night?” Evie asked into her lap. “Heard something?”
“What would I have heard?” Shay hopped to her feet but that didn’t quash the jitter in her legs. “You, hoing it up with the first boy who showed interest in me?”
“Max is not a boy.” Evie threw her napkin onto the table as she rose from her seat. “He’s a grown man, who’s too old for you.”
“Then by all means, help yourself.”
“I don’t want Max.” Evie crossed her arms. “He’s smug and cocky, and he’s not really that good looking. Very scrawny.”
“I don’t care if you want Max, because I never wanted him in the first place.” Shay’s hip bumped the chair as she hurried toward the door. It crashed against the tile floor and she flinched with her hand on the knob.
“It was … really hurtful for you to do that with Max in the same apartment as me, whether you thought I was asleep or not.”
Shay opened the suite’s front door and marched into the hallway. She walked past the elevator, to the end of the hall, and into the stairwell.
It was far shorter to go up than down, so Shay headed to the roof. A breath of fresh air and a glimpse of city lights would wipe her palette clean, replace the image of an Evie/Max kiss from her mind.
“Want Max,” she grumbled to herself as she stomped up the last set of stairs. She didn’t want Max, never had, but her stupid body needed to be near him. Even now, when she’d like to slug Max, she wished for his company. Max was no doubt wishing for her way hotter, age appropriate sister.
Her groan was eclipsed by the heavy steel door’s squeak as she pushed it open. She stepped outside, onto the roof of Ling Enterprises, and took in a lungful of crisp night air.
“Shay?”
Shay yelped, jumping in place as Max stepped from the shadows.
“Seriously?” She could’ve went down a floor and hopped an elevator to the lobby, but she came to the very spot the man she was dying and dreading to see just so happened to be.
“What are you doing up here?” Max asked.
“I … needed some air. What are you doing?” Shay kept her gaze on the speckles of city lights as she walked away from Max, toward the building’s edge.
“Chilly,” Max said, slowly walking closer to Shay.
“What, out here?”
“Your tone. Shay—”
Max’s hand brushed Shay’s arm, and she jerked away from his touch.
“Why did you have sex with my sister?”
For a second, Max just stared at Shay. It’d be funny, a stumped superhero, if the subject matter didn’t sicken her.
“Things happened,” Max said, looking like he might cry. “But we didn’t have sex. I swear.”
“That’s not what it sounded like.” Shay’s bottom lip quivered. She bit down on it, hoping the pain would stop its shudder.
“You were awake?” Max covered his face, kneeling at Shay’s feet. “I don’t know what to say.”
“How about sorry I’m such a playa.”
“I’m not,” Max said to the ground below him.
A gasp flew from Shay’s lips, knocking her back a step. “You’re not sorry?”
Max looked up, into Shay’s eyes. Pain filled his stare. The sight of such a strong man broken by agony pierced Shay’s chest, but she couldn’t allow herself to feel it. Her heart had already been ripped to tatters when he and Evie betrayed her.
“I am incredibly sorry, and I’m not a player.” Max stood up and took Shay’s hand. “I only did that with Evie to try and convince myself I wasn’t …”
A gust of wind blew Max’s cologne into Shay’s lungs. She closed her eyes, feeling the spark of his body as he leaned closer to her.
The intensity could swallow her whole. Just the idea of being swept up by this rush, falling toward no ground, stirred the instinct to run screaming.
Shay yanked her hand from Max’s grasp and backed toward the stairwell door.
“Don’t touch me, it’s wrong.” A tear skated down her cheek and she didn’t know why. When a wall of waterworks clouded her vision, she ran into the stairwell.
Shay hit a red button on the wall, which closed the thick glass door of her lab. It was a beautiful sight, solid glass sealing her in. Evie, Max, not even Hetal could get to her through this sturdy barrier of people-blocking heaven.
“Why’d you shut the door?” Hetal asked, crawling out from behind the remains of a once beautiful electron microscope.
“I thought you went home.”
“Home? There isn’t a laboratory at my home.” With an armful of circuitry, Hetal wobbled toward an already overloaded workstation.
“You’re working so hard. It makes me feel bad. Are they even paying you?”
Hetal released the cluster of motherboards, transistors, and wire harnesses onto the table beside Shay. “Of course, very well. Are you all right? You look like you’ve been crying.”
Shay turned her back to Hetal, wiping her eyes. “Allergies or something.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“About my allergies?” Shay sat on a metal stool and slumped onto the workbench.
“About Max.”
His name brought a shiver, one that rippled beneath Shay’s flesh. She lowered her head into the fold of her arm. For some reason, it seemed easier to talk to the shiny table than Hetal.
“Honestly, I have no idea if I even like the guy or not. But there’s this little part of me that burns when he’s not around and scorches when he is. It feels different from the other parts of me; foreign, but I like it, a lot. I’m afraid. I could fall into that burn, get lost.”
Shay peeked at Hetal, who studied her like a Millennium Prize Problem. Not a surprise. She sounded like a conundrum and felt like a crazy person.
“It makes sense,” Hetal said, staring off into a corner.
“It does?”
“Yeah. I mean, everybody knows the Jenna and Max story. Two teens run away, hop aboard a spaceship and jet to the stars. Everyone dies in space but their love keeps them alive, only to have her die a few months after they return. Love like that doesn’t just fade. It transcends, surpasses a point beyond where the laws of physics can reach.”
Shay sat up straight, gawking at Hetal. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. You’re a scientist.”
“With scientific proof of life after death. Jenna’s consciousness still exists. Her feelings, spirit, maybe even her memories are alive inside you, fighting with your own essence.”
“So I’m not crazy, just two
different people?”
“How old were you, when this soul implantation took place?”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
Hetal nodded. She grabbed a loose piece of paper and scribbled notes.
“You’re working up a case report?” Shay cried out. She reached for the paper, and Hetal moved it away.
“Yeah. This is going to score me the Nobel. Can we experiment on you?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
After a few minutes of frantic writing, Hetal looked up at Shay. “Do you remember your life before Jenna?”
“Sort of. Stupid things. My dollhouse, the color of our old kitchen walls, sitting on the couch with my parents and Evie. I was six when the accident happened, when my parents died and Antiserum … did that to me.”
Shay couldn’t be upset. Her pain from the injuries she’d sustained had faded. The memories of that night—of her own parents—were long gone. If she allowed herself to feel violated, she’d become Antiserum’s victim and she refused to be anyone’s victim.
“Right, so nobody would be able to judge behavior changes?”
“Wait.” Shay choked up. She couldn’t say it. The thought she’d been ignoring since this second soul had been revealed didn’t want to become actual words.
“I didn’t mean anything.” Hetal kept her stare low, her scribbles slowing to a halt.
“You think I won’t be me anymore once the soul’s removed.”
“I am not implying that.”
“I’m still me.” Shay slapped her hand on the table. The sting traveled through her palm; her palm, not Jenna’s. “A soul shoved inside you can’t change who you are. Can it?”
Hetal lifted her shoulders into a shrug. “I … umm. I don’t think so. Evie.”
“Evie might know if I was different then, she—”
“No. Evie.” Hetal dropped her pen and pointed at the closed lab door.
Shay turned on her stool. Evie waved at her from the other side of the glass wall that sealed the lab off from the hallway. At least twenty layers of anger melted at the sight of her sister’s frown. Stupid, that’s what she was for fighting with Evie over a guy neither one of them would nab in the end.
Shay’s sneakers slid on glossy tile as she hurried across the lab to open its door.
Alexie sat on an empty bench in Midtown Park alongside a deserted jogger’s trail. She leaned back against the splintered wood and gazed up at the moon through thick trees. It was warm for fall, but nobody should be strolling down this desolate path. At least, not a good guy.
She had to go along with Simon’s plan, and somehow coerce Lucius into giving up his perpetual pursuit for world domination. Things were getting out of hand with Max, and after what happened at the lake earlier, she had no choice. Besides, it was good to keep an enemy close, made it easier to stab them in the back.
A cool chill slithered into the night air and a bitter taste crept into Alexie’s mouth.
“Lucius,” she said, without moving a muscle.
Lucius strolled in front of Alexie, full costume, and hoisted his hands to his hips. The sharp edges on his body armor reflected the sliver of moonlight that broke through the trees, and his hooded cloak cast a shadow over the fierce expression on his metal mask.
“Is that absurd helmet necessary?”
“Look who’s talking.” Lucius pointed at Alexie’s suit. “Think you have enough sparkles on your cape?”
Alexie twirled her fingers around the end of her silky cape, gesturing at the empty seat beside her.
“I was surprised to receive your call.” Lucius pulled off his helmet, pushed back strands of black hair off his forehead, and then sat beside Alexie. “You knew the device I gave you could only reach me once. Your super-buddies are fine, the world isn’t ending. What could you possibly want from little ol’ me?”
“Max won’t follow in your footsteps, no matter how hard you push him. He’d die to protect that girl, or any girl, Jenna’s soul or not.”
“So what?” Lucius dropped his helmet into his lap, holding a blank stare on Alexie.
“I know you still care about Max, somewhere deep inside that hollow cavity you call a heart. You might want him to suffer, but you’d freak out if he actually died.”
Lucius chuckled as he picked a stray thread off his red cloak. “You haven’t changed a bit, still thinking you know everything.”
“Why don’t you just do the decent thing, set Jenna’s soul free? If only for the fact that she was your crewmate on the space mission that changed both your lives.”
“I don’t owe Jenna anything, or Max.” Lucius jumped to his feet. He stood in front of Alexie, bending to sneer in her face. “If it wasn’t for me and Cyrus, they both would’ve died up there. They betrayed me, turned their backs when I needed them. I will devour both their souls.”
The words trembled as Lucius spoke them, but it wasn’t cruelty. It was hurt that quaked his voice. Lucius regretted his role in Jenna’s death, and missed his friends. Alexie could tell by the look of sorrow in his eyes. There was a chance she could reunite them all. It was a very, very slim chance, but she had to take it.
“No you won’t,” she said plainly. “Or you would’ve done it by now.”
Lucius snickered and his tight shoulders loosened.
“Tell you what,” he said, backing away from Alexie a few steps. “Since I’m fair, I’ll take a trade. I’ll fix the Jenna problem and leave this Shay girl alone, in exchange for you.”
Alexie jolted back, the park bench creaking under her weight. “What?”
“Join me, willingly, and it’s done.”
“Join you in what?”
“In making a better world.”
Lucius waved his hand and a portal of near blinding light opened beside him. “I’ll be in touch.”
Light flashed and a gust of hot air blew Alexie’s hair back. She covered her eyes, turning from the bright white glow. Once the whistle of wind died out and darkness returned, she looked back to find an empty park.
Shay snuggled beside Evie on the couch in their suite, beneath a soft fleece throw. This moment, when her head rested on a bony shoulder as fashion models pranced on the TV screen meant everything. Boys, labs, displaced souls all took a back burner to family.
A quick jerk shook Evie’s body, which was acting as Shay’s pillow. Soon Evie would start snoring, then drooling.
Shay scooted over on the long couch, sinking into the cushions at its other end. A soft red light pulsed on the ceiling, and the most gentle hum tickled her ears. Her eyes grew heavy, but the crimson glow that flooded her vision kept them open. The blinking red light swirled, the hum grew louder, and her stomach burned.
There was no air. Shay couldn’t breathe, not while staring at the spin of flashing lights, with the blast of a high-pitched screech in her ears.
“I can’t believe that worked,” said a man.
His rough voice snapped Shay from a red-tinged haze. She gasped to catch her breath, getting a lungful of exhaust-laced air. A horn honked and she jumped to the side, her bare feet slapping concrete.
She was on the sidewalk out front of Ling Enterprises, in her Barry the Bear jammies, and she wasn’t alone. Dr. Mayhem stood in front of her, so close she could see his breaths puffing out the sparkly fabric on his solid black mask.
“Your mind’s easy to get into, girl,” he said, grabbing Shay by the arm.
Antiserum stepped from the shadows, the streetlight glinting off his iron mask. “You just became a bargaining chip.”
Shay screamed for help. She pulled against Dr. Mayhem’s clutch, but the few people who strolled along the sidewalk seemed blind to her presence.
“They see what I want them to see.” Dr. Mayhem wrapped his arm around Shay and flew away. The icy wind stung her cheeks as they soared toward the dark sky.
“Stop,” she yelled, banging her fist on Dr. Mayhem’s hard chest plate.
<
br /> “I’ll drop you,” he said in a growl.
Dr. Mayhem released his grip on Shay. She plunged downward between skyscrapers, racing toward the traffic-filled street, and Dr. Mayhem scooped her into his arms again.
This time, she didn’t hurl punches at the supervillain who sped across the city with her in one hand. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.
“You’re tired,” he whispered into Shay’s ear and she yawned. “You’re going to sleep for one hour, dream of Max.”
Shay’s eyelids grew heavy, closing her into dreams of Max holding her in his strong arms.
A rumble vibrated the windows, and jolted Evie from sleep. She reached for Shay, grabbing only air. Her heart thumped. Something was wrong. Evie couldn’t explain how she knew—perhaps instinct, or the fact she’d become keen to the distinct feel of danger—but she could sense something was terribly wrong with Shay.
Evie turned on lights in the empty suite as she walked toward Shay’s room, but the brightness didn’t chase off the dreadful vibes clinging to the air.
She opened Shay’s bedroom door and … nothing. Rumpled sheets occupied the bed, clothes were strewn across the floor, but no Shay.
“The lab. She must be working.”
Evie dialed Shay’s cell phone and a ring sounded from the coffee table.
“Dammit,” she grumbled, trying the lab’s landline.
“Dr. Bhatti,” said Hetal, her voice streamed through Evie’s speaker.
“It’s Evie. Is Shay down there?”
“No. I haven’t seen her since she left with you. Is everything okay?”
“I’ll get back to you on that one.” Evie ended the call, paced around the kitchen a few times, then dialed Simon.
“Hel—”
“Shay’s missing!”
“Evie? What happened?”
“I woke up, and Shay was gone.” Evie’s hand trembled, the phone tapping against her ear. “Something’s not right, I have a really bad feeling.”
“Okay. Just hold on, let me log into the security system.”
Evie strummed her fingers on the kitchen’s granite countertop. Two seconds might have passed, it could’ve been two hours for all she knew.
