3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Arriving home just before midnight, Jack didn’t bother to undress, he just climbed into his bunk and fell almost instantly asleep.

That, he regretted.

Another dream as disturbing as the first. He was running down a dirt road, the sound of his claws on the hard-packed earth distracting. Fast breathing, the vapor of which clouded his vision of the road ahead, the night falling darker and darker as the way led to the same bleak forest from the previous dream.

Then, up ahead, Jack saw a figure, and he knew instinctively the man ahead of him was running from Jack. Why, Jack couldn’t guess, except he felt fear from the man, in sick, thick waves.

Jack felt that he wanted to feed. The dream-Jack wanted to tear into the man, scratching through his chest, ribs, and breastbone, and get to the man’s rapidly beating heart until he could see the heart beating in his chest, pumping blood. Jack would set his mouth over it, closing his immense jaws until the heart popped like a hard candy filled with delicious juice…

Waking up in a cold sweat again, barely holding in the scream, Jack sat straight up, hugging himself until his breathing slowed enough for him to be able to swallow. The thing was, when he swallowed, he tasted blood.

He climbed down from the bunk and hurried to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. In the mirror, he saw the blood on his lips, the blood he’d tasted. He was ghostly white, his eyes wide in terror, so that blood stood out macabrely.

Jack ran the water until it was as cold as he could get it, then scrubbed over his face, slurping water into his mouth to clean the blood. When he looked back in the mirror, he saw that he’d bitten his lip.

Turning away from the mirror, Jack leaned back on the sink, the glare of his pale face too much for what was going through his mind. He’d wanted to bite that heart so badly that he’d bitten his own lip.

The skyline of the city helped to calm his racing heart. That was remarkable, really, as he hadn’t any special affinity for the city except it had been an escape from his family. Still, it was home. Maybe that was all he’d needed—a place that felt like home.

He showered and got ready for the day before his roommates woke, and crowded into the bathroom. Hair dripping over his shoulders, Jack stared into the mirror, glad he had some pink back in his cheeks.

The problem was, Jack barely recognized himself. It was the same face he’d seen in the mirror thousands of times, of course. Square jawline, depressed cheeks, bright eyes, and full lips. But when he looked in the mirror, he expected to see another face completely. Why, Jack didn’t know. For the first time in his life, his own face felt foreign to him.

He practically ran from that mirror, the terror from the nightmare coming back to him. Ignoring his need for coffee, he got on the bus to head straight to work, though he’d be two hours early.

That was fine, he thought. Anything to get the job over and done with would suit him just fine. Now that he thought about it, the strange feelings had begun when he’d started that job, around that hateful man.

On the roof, Jack placed a sheet of metal over the hole, screwing it into the reinforced beams. A warehouse didn’t have shingles, but he added a few to the top of the metal. After he moved to the next section, he reinforced more, and stepped carefully over the new beam, only to feel another soft spot in the metal. Carefully, he sat and realized another two feet would need fixing.

To tell Graves that the entire roof would need replacing, well, that wasn’t something Jack wanted to tell him. A handyman wouldn’t be able to take on a job of that size.

At least he wouldn’t be the one working on it. He didn’t do full roofs, and couldn’t, even if he did. He’d need an entire crew. A smile came to his lips as he thought about it, how pissed the recluse would be, having a whole crew of men there working right above his precious cars.

Descending the ladder, he got to the bottom and grabbed the bottle of water he’d brought, slugging it down while he watched the clouds overhead, dark and brooding, ready to cover the world from the sky.

The darkness it brought was eerie and reminded him too much of his dreams. He could feel himself walking through that forest, shadows everywhere, moving, ready to jump out at him, but he wasn’t afraid of the shadows. He was more frightened of himself.

“Already finished?” Graves asked, making Jack jump in surprise.

He set the bottle down on the ground and said, “No. I just needed some water. I do need to speak with you about the roof, though. It may be worse than I first thought.”

“Of course, it is,” he sneered. “You’ll take longer, needing more money, no doubt.”

He was wearing a long leather coat, black and shining despite the low light. That didn’t seem out of place for Maltin Graves, and his beauty, his amazing eyes that sliced into him like a thousand daggers.

“No, the opposite, in fact. I can’t do an entire roof on my own, no matter the money or the time.”

His brows drew together, yet no crease came between them. His skin was so perfectly smooth, it was creepy. “Oh? You’re admitting defeat? I didn’t see that in you.”

Jack didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not, but it felt like one and totally didn’t fit their tenuous relationship. “I’d love to finish the job, and I will, the job I signed up for, I’m just warning you, it will only work temporarily.”

The man’s voice was softened by a lot as he asked, “That bad?”

“I’m afraid it is. I’ll take some pictures if you like.”

“I’ll follow you up this time. I’m no great fan of heights, but I should see for myself.”

Another surprise. “Okay, sure, but I’ll follow you and hold the ladder while you climb.”

Taking a tentative step to the ladder, Jack watched as Maltin’s entire demeanor changed. “Thank…thank you.”

He started to climb, and Jack held the ladder, though it was bouncing anyway, once Maltin got to the halfway point. He knew that bounce well, and it scared the hell out of him.

Once Maltin was on the roof, he held the top for Jack as he started up the thing, and when he reached halfway, he looked up to catch Maltin staring down at him, a smile playing on his lips. Jack hadn’t realized the man had the muscles it took to smile. With each rung of the ladder he took, he felt his heartbeat speeding up.

With some of his hatred abating, Jack could look at Maltin Graves in a new light, and all those times he’d seen him, hating him, well, he’d softened as much as Maltin’s voice and demeanor had.

When he neared the top of the ladder, Maltin reached his hand to Jack and Jack took it, ready to be helped the rest of the way. But the second that Maltin touched him, there was a jolt of electricity, like someone gathering static electricity by shuffling their feet over a carpet, only a thousand times that.

It was so jolting that he was thrown backward, which wasn’t good, as there was nothing under him but air.

Panic hit him immediately as he began to fall, and his mind glitched, the adrenaline and fear overcoming everything. It was so powerful that he blacked out, and as the world turned dark, he was grateful he wouldn’t feel his body being broken by landing on the ground.

In the blackness, however, wasn’t pain or fear. He stood in the forest from his recent dreams, checking over his body for injuries, and finding none. His hands were hands, fingernails not claws, and he felt over his face to find it was his normal face.

He was so glad he was just his ordinary, human self that he started running, ducking under branches, and dodging flowering bushes.

The trail wound around trees and stones and came out into a beautiful clearing, the sun rising on the horizon. Finally, the dreamworld he’d been thrown into was brightening.

In the distance, he saw a man sitting, his face pointed to the sunrise. He slowed his pace as he neared the man, wondering who it could be and why he was sitting in the field of green grasses and yellow wildflowers.

As Jack approached, the man turned, and just when his face was about to be revealed, he woke from the dream with a fast, loud intake of air, and looked up to see a cloudy sky. When he turned his head, Maltin Graves was beside him, holding his hand as his face was creased with worry. “Are you alright?”

“I’m…alive?”

“Yes, you’re alive. I…helped. Magic.”

Blinking a few times, Jack tried to sit up, but Maltin wouldn’t allow it.

“Don’t move yet. I’ve called an ambulance.”

“I’m not hurt. Call them…back. I can’t afford the hospital.”

“Jack…my magic isn’t…strong. You still hit, and you were unconscious.”

Jack did sit up and his hand automatically moved to the back of his head, feeling for wounds and finding none. He didn’t even have a headache. “I passed out on the way down, I…I think.”

Maltin got them both to their feet and held him around the waist as he led them into the warehouse via the back entrance. “Still, let them check you out. And you’re not paying, I am.”

Shaking his head, he tried to argue. “I really feel okay.”

“You’ve had a fright, Jack. Please, let them look at you, for my sake.”

Unwilling to fight him on it, Jack let himself be led to the stairs and Maltin walked with him up to the loft, where he was taken inside and sat on the long leather sofa. “Stay here, and I’ll fetch you some water.”

“Th-thanks.”

Staring at his hands, Jack cocked his head, wondering what had happened. The jolt of electricity or static or whatever it had been had come out of nowhere. “Mr. Graves…did you…did you feel that?”

Maltin was in the kitchen area, looking out over the rest of the apartment and pouring him a glass of water from a clear jug from the fridge. “I, uh, did, yes.”

“What was it?”

When Graves didn’t answer, Jack tried to push, and all he got for that was handed the water and told to drink.

Maltin sat at the large wood block that served as a coffee table as he watched Jack drink. Once Jack took the glass from his lips, Maltin took it, and a buzzer sounded. “That must be the EMTs.”

Jack didn’t want to be checked over; he wanted answers. Still, Maltin was probably right. If he landed on his head or back, he could be hurt, and the shock might keep him from feeling it.

The EMTs rushed in once Maltin led them to the loft, and after poking and asking a million questions, including if he’d used his own power to break his fall, they left. He sat unable to shake that question, to which he’d had to answer a simple no, hoping he didn’t have to elaborate.

Thankfully, he didn’t, and Maltin showed them out once they came back with good news: besides his elevated blood pressure, he was fine.

“Please, Jack, take the rest of the day off with pay. Go home and rest.”

Not waiting for Maltin to change his mind, Jack got up and left quickly, barely acknowledging Maltin on the way out the door.

Home was not an option. He had an old laptop that didn’t work, and he needed answers. After catching the crosstown bus, he went to the city’s biggest library and got on the computer there, looking for anything that could explain the strange things happening to him.

There had to be answers. Dreams, what happened when he and Maltin touched for the first time? Something had to stop his heart from beating out of his damn chest. His head swam with all the questions, and he hoped beyond hope that he’d find something to ease his mind.