Chapter 29 Fulton
FULTON
Ipace. And pace. And pace. Days of pacing. A week.
I make coffee runs and bring home food for my friends. Vita swipes an IV and fluids from New Malcolm U to keep Kaye’s body from shutting down piece by piece, for all the good it’s going to do if we can’t get her to wake up.
Every day I watch Milo bend over her prone form and sweat with the effort of forming what tentative connections he can within her fractured mind.
There’s no way of knowing whether he’s helping the problem or making it worse, and that’s a risk we’ll have to take because I’m not letting Zane anywhere near her again to check.
Every day we wait for some sign that she’s still in there.
I wait.
The remaining Supers keep a constant vigil outside her door. They won’t leave. Not now, and not without her. No matter how much I wish we could keep them from the danger that is coming.
Adeon stabilizes Kaye’s blood pressure and holds the others’ fatigue at bay while Milo uses every cell of his healing power.
Jaspar’s abilities provide the bridge between them, as well as offering some meager context from some of the memories they are attempting to string.
Vita acquires and modifies equipment to keep her physically alive.
Eko and Agus bounce around, keeping an eye on New Malcolm.
And Zane, though he hasn’t left his house since it happened.
I’m the only one who doesn’t have something to do. This isn’t a problem that can be solved with muscle and fire.
I’m helpless and I hate it.
“You should get some sleep.” Vita’s soft accent makes her voice melodic, beautiful, but only a fool would let that mask the sharp blade of her wit and intellect beneath.
“Have you been sleeping?” I ask.
She releases a laugh that comes out more like a huff. “So we’re not going to talk about it then?”
I scowl and take another sip of the long-cold coffee at my side. It leaves a coat of abrasive acidity on my tongue, but caffeine is caffeine and beggars can’t be choosers. “I’ll sleep after I kick Zane’s ass.”
She shakes her head. Walks away. We both know it’s a moot point.
As much as I would love someone to take out my fear and frustration on, there’s nothing I could do to Zane that would beat what he’s doing to himself.
Vita slows as she passes the room, but doesn’t stop.
It’s easy when you have a purpose. A goal to focus your energy on.
My phone vibrates lightly within the cocoon of my leather jacket. I silence it without looking at the screen. Whoever it is can wait.
“Fulton!”
I jump to my feet at the sound of my name. Adeon’s auburn head pokes into the hallway, exhaustion seeming to fill every line and pore etched into his face. I prepare myself to hear the worst. That our friend is gone forever, and there’s no getting her back.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
My heartbeat races to the beat of the ringer. I couldn’t answer even if I wanted to. I’ve forgotten how to breathe, how to speak, as every molecule of my being strains to hear what he’ll say next.
A smile curls the corners of his lips.
“She’s awake,” he says.
Before I know what’s happening, I’ve bounded past him, rounding the corner to see my friends crowded around her bed. My first clue should be the conflicted looks on some of their faces. The way some of them wrap their arms around themselves.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
She sits up. Her hair is greasy, matted a little from so many days lying in one position. But who cares? To see life in her warm, brown eyes again. In the rosy hue of her lips and dotting her cheeks.
She’s beautiful. Only she could make ‘recovered coma patient’ look beautiful.
“Fulton?”
My heart stutters. In the silence that follows, we all hear it.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Kaye
Visions—impressions, really—pass beneath the veil of my eyelids.
Faces. So many faces.
Fire licking up dank walls on a dark, acrimonious night.
A man in a white mask.
A needle pressing into someone’s eye.
What does any of it mean?
There are starched sheets under my fingertips. The air feels chilled, the sweet, musky smell of old books and mildew dances across my senses.
I should open my eyes, but would it really be so bad to fall back under that thick, leaden blanket of black? To rest, at least a little while longer.
Warm, gentle fingers press at my temples, jolting me into action. Awake.
There are faces crowding around me, bent together.
They’re familiar, somehow. I know… but I can’t remember.
Their eyes are all closed, and I study them in mute fascination, trying and failing to place the connection.
It tickles at the corners of my mind just out of reach.
Each of their fingers has a hold on some part of me: curled around my hand, the curve of my ankle, the base of my neck. The dip of my temples.
A shiver bolts across my collarbone at a twinge toward the front of my head, like the snap of a rubber band, and I realize it came from them. Prickling and poking in the corners of my mind. Whatever happened, they were the source, and I know without a doubt that I want them to stop.
“Who are you?” The words leave a bitter taste on my tongue, but they pull away almost in unison, as if I had burned them.
“Thank God!” the one who had been touching my temple says. His red curls fall into kind, cerulean eyes. A smile crinkles the corners of his eyes and lights his face with a warmth that could counteract the coldest winter morning. “How do you feel, Kaye?”
Kaye. That feels right.
You and Kitty need one another.
Katerina Grace?
Call me Kaye.
I shake my head and the voices go silent. A headache pounds at the base of my skull as I start to sit up. Several hands reach out to help ease me into position. I knock them all away.
“Who are you?” I repeat.
“You’d better get Fulton.”
My eyes lock on a face that I would describe as beautiful rather than handsome. Fine featured. Eyes darkened with a thick fringe of lashes so black they could be mistaken for coal. His gray eyes shine out of them. I don’t like how much he sees.
“You’re safe, Kaye,” he promises. “Things feel a little strange right now, but we’re here to help you.”
I feel myself relax, just a little, though I can’t say why.
The redhead is back, a woman trailing closely on his heels. Our eyes meet, and my breath stutters. Falls away.
She’s stunning. With skin like the darkest night and luminous with even more stars. Strength radiates from her solid form. A fighter as well. Truly magnificent. The connection here runs soul-deep. She someone special, I can feel it. I—
“Fulton.” I don’t know where the urge to say it comes from, but she looks so happy. So relieved. Until a ringing sounds from within her pocket.
She answers it with a sigh. “Yes?”
Something’s wrong. I can see it in the shifting of her expression, the rise and tensing of her shoulders. Her eyes dart to the others, and to me, as she listens to the caller.
“Slow down, George.” Her hand massages the nape of her neck. “Have you tried calling him?”
George? I know… what?
Fulton’s hand slices through the air as if to cut down some unseen enemy. As if she can’t stand not moving in that moment. “We’ll find him. I promise.”
She ends the call with the press of a button. Her eyes lock on me even as she addresses the others.
“Zane’s missing,” she says.
Zane. A spear of anguish shoots through my chest, but… I can’t see it.
A commotion rises. Voices ring in the hall, getting closer until a pair of arguing men shove their way into the doorway. Agus and Eko.
Wait! There was something there. Some thread I reach for, try to tug on. But it slips from my grasp like smoke.
“There’s something else.” Agus sighs. He pulls a thin, pearlescent envelope from his pocket and holds it toward me. “It’s addressed to her.”
Fulton snatches it from his fingers before I can even process if I want to move. She has it open faster still. Reading it over, her expression falls. This time, when it’s presented to me, I take it.
Come all, come one.
Hide your true self within a mask.
It’s time to play and have some fun.
That’s your only task.
There are no rules for you to break.
All sins allowed. Feel free to partake.
Proceeds to charity.
An invitation to a masquerade party. Below it, neatly written in red ink:
Come to me, or Charade pays the price. —C
“I don’t understand.” I feel something welling up in my throat, thick and sticky. It aches, this longing, but it’s laced with something dark. Broken.
The man with the red hair takes the invitation from me, reading it over with growing nervousness written in his features. “Do you remember anything, Kaye?”
I shake my head. “Some names… What happened to me?”
“An accident.” The one with the piercing eyes reaches over to take my hand and something flashes before my eyes. A kiss pressed along my knuckles. The jackass is Jaspar. “You just remembered something, didn’t you?”
“You’re Jaspar?” I ask. “How did you know?”
He smirks, the exquisiteness of his face almost blinding. “I have a power, Kaye, and so do you. We’re going to need to work quickly if we want to save Zane.”
A tremble flutters through my stomach and down my legs.
I find myself wrapping my arms around my knees, pressing them into my core.
Another flash, an impression appears in my mind.
Of kisses burning hot in the water falling around us.
I’m a monster too. A wall of flames towering over us. Who is Checkmate? Who is C?
“Zane.”