7. Cameron

Chapter 7

Cameron

I woke up this morning, chasing the tendrils of a prophetic dream. It had been a happy one, for once, of a child with violet eyes, but too quickly, it slipped from my fingers, leaving me feel a kind of grief at its loss.

Sighing, I checked in with myself. I felt borderline okay lying in bed. I didn’t feel groggy or lightheaded, walked down the stairs without feeling like I was going to fall, and I even had enough of an appetite to eat a real breakfast. It’d been two weeks without my suppressants, so I let myself believe that just maybe things were starting to balance out. At last, I could go back to my… well, almost-normal life. Being a god’s sidekick probably wasn’t normal by most people’s standards.

And it was because of the little glimmer of hope that I didn’t immediately turn Phobos down when he suggested we could get some training in.

Stupid hope, I should’ve known better .

He had this whole reinforced bunker in the basement for a little discreet workout. It had an obstacle course, shooting gallery, obscenely heavy weights I couldn’t imagine anyone human being able to lift. It was these weights that Phobos was currently using for biceps curls.

“So… roomie,” he said, a touch coyly as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye, checking to see that I was watching him. “I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight. There’s this Italian restaurant, La Trattoria del Cuore. Have you heard of it?”

I shook my head, setting down my significantly lighter weights before I could drop them. “No, I don’t get out much.” I stared down at my hands, opening and closing my fists. It felt like I couldn’t hold my bottle of water, let alone those weights, but not because they were too heavy; it was more like I didn’t have complete control over my reflexes.

Not knowing what was going on was the worst part. If I knew what was causing all my issues, I could at least decide what to do about it. I’d tried googling my symptoms, but the answers were anywhere from iron deficiency to brain tumor. My symptoms were too broad, too random. Nothing made sense.

Phobos was still preening, turning to offer me what he called his “good side,” the side he offered to the paparazzi when he was giving interviews. “It’s a quiet place, good for having an intimate conversation, y’know, if you wanted, and the lighting is dim. Very romantic and—”

“What?” I’d tuned out of what he was saying. Surely when he’d said we should have dinner, he didn’t mean for it to be a date. “What do you mean by romantic, exactly?”

He fumbled the concrete-filled barrel he’d been curling, but he caught it at the last second. “What? Oh, nothing, just making an observation. Because I know you wouldn’t… and I wouldn’t…” He chuckled awkwardly then turned away sharply and set down the barrels along the wall. “Hey, so how about you show me that whole ice spear move again. I missed most of your attacks on Deimos because I was so high up.”

He was trying to change the subject, and like a coward, I let him. “The spear didn’t work. It melted,” I grumbled, staring down at my feet.

“Still, it looked cool.” He jogged over to the range, and I trudged along behind him. In a normal setting, this would be where someone would fire a gun, but Phobos had no use for your standard weapons. “Come on, you can work on your aim.” I apparently didn’t look enthusiastic enough, because he clasped his hands in front of his chest and gave me big, violet puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeeease, for me? I just think it would be a good idea to practice your skills so we know what to expect from them. Trust is an important part of the hero/sidekick relationship. What if we’re in the middle of trying to foil some criminal scheme, and we’re engaged in a high-speed chase. There’s only one way to stop them! And I’m all, ‘Uh-oh, I wonder what Cameron will do now. Gee, I hope he can form a really wicked ice spear on command and stab their rear left tire.’”

I snorted, laughing. “That is a very oddly specific scenario.”

“Right? But you never know.” His smile widened, and I could tell he was proud of himself for pulling me out of my funk. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got.”

He swept his arm in an “after you” gesture. I stepped up beside him and stared down the length of the room. “Are you sure we should be doing this indoors? I mean, isn’t it dangerous? What if we bring the whole house down on top of us?”

“Pfft! You don’t have to worry about that. This bunker was built to withstand a nuclear blast. No way is a little bit of frozen water going to make a dent in these walls. ”

“Mm.” I rubbed my palms together self-consciously. “And what are you going to be doing while I’m… manifesting ice?”

“I’ll be watching you, of course.” He grinned and hopped up on the counter, crossing his arms.

Groaning, I massaged my fingers into my eye where a sharp pain had begun to throb. “I can’t do it while you’re watching. Can’t you, I don’t know, find something else to do?”

“Nope. There is nowhere else I would rather be than right here with you.”

“Oh. Great.” He was like a dog with a bone when he got an idea in his head. There didn’t seem to be any way out of it. So, with Phobos’s eyes on me, I closed my eyes and reached for the well of energy that lived inside me.

It had been there for as long as I could remember. As a young child, it had been little more than a spark, but after one of the government’s seers had named me as the Chosen One? of this generation, I was quickly scooped up by the CHPD—Chosen Heroes of Predictive Defense—and given proper training. I was soon able to kindle that spark into a lit match. By the time I’d had to face my nemesis, Nefarious, we’d built it up to a blazing campfire. Once all was said and done, my purpose complete, it had simmered out a little. Since then, it had felt kind of like this glowing golden pond, but when I reached for it now, it felt different. More like the light of the sun than a campfire, much more liable to burn, even from a distance.

“What is it? Why are you frowning?” Phobos asked, his voice edged with concern.

My eyes cracked open, and I saw him sitting there, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in interest. “Nothing, it’s fine. Just trying to get in the mood.” Closing my eyes again, I gave that energy well some serious side-eye. This had BAD IDEA stamped all over it in red ink. I had no interest in touching that fiery ocean, its borders too wide to see the edges, but like my old handler said, “ The fastest way to get somewhere is to go straight through. ”

Here goes nothing , I thought. Famous last words.

Drawing the power up through my veins, I urged it to concentrate between my palms, coaxing it into shape. It was kind of like working with clay, but without the tangibility, more like a malleable vapor. And as it began to harden, it wasn’t like it turned into ice, exactly, but it was real enough. It was solid, cold, and even through my closed eyelids, I could see it glowing a liquid blue.

I could feel myself begin to grow thin at the seams. I’d been so focused on the ice spear that I forgot to hold myself together. My mouth grew dry, the sides of my throat sticky when I swallowed down my whimper, almost like every drop of moisture from my body was being poured into this magic.

“Beautiful,” Phobos praised in a whisper, but when I forced my eyes open to see what I’d achieved, he was looking at me instead of the spear.

He cleared his throat, straightening his spine. “I knew you could do it,” he said more clearly, gesturing at the lethal spike now in my hands.

It was, indeed, an ice spear. It had come almost naturally when fighting against Deimos, but it wasn’t an easy thing.

I panted. “Now what?” I asked dumbly.

Phobos shrugged. “Now you throw it.” He nodded down the range toward the targets.

“Right. Throw it.” I tried to heft the spear up to my shoulder, but the damn thing was pretty heavy considering it had come from nothing. My arm quivered, but I squared off anyway and launched the damn thing with an almighty heave .

I watched in awe as it arced through the air. It’s going to make it, it’s going to—

It came crashing down 20 feet from the target, shattering across the concrete in glistening slivers. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, sagging. I really hoped that didn’t mean I would have to try again, because I just didn’t have it in me.

“That’s okay, Cam. I still think it was really impressive. The bad guys’ll be quaking in their boots. With the two of us together, we’ll be an unstoppable team!”

Before I could react, he reached out and cuffed me by the back of the neck. I gasped, bracing instinctively for a hit of whatever crazy energy he’d given me that first time, but there was nothing. Just his warm touch, and the heat of it sank into me. It was… nice, strangely comforting, and before I could stop myself, I found myself leaning into it. It had been a long time since someone touched me, even in friendship.

“Phobos,” I choked out, tears welling. I’d been shoving everything I’d been going through down into a tiny box in my chest for so long that I hadn’t even noticed that the box was way beyond capacity. I was simply too exhausted to hold onto it, not even for one more second. The emotional drop caught me totally unawares.

He frowned, taking in the state of me. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Phobos opened his arms, and without thought, I collapsed into him, dropping my forehead to his chest, and began to cry.

The floodgates were open, and I sobbed openly, my tears soaking into Phobos’s shirt. It wasn’t my finest moment, and I was sure clinging to my boss like this was portraying the worst possible image, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was wrung the hell out, scared, sick, and part of me was still wondering if I was just crazy, imagining the whole thing. Was that possible? Was I just some kind of hypochondriac, blowing everything out of proportion? The doctor certainly hadn’t been too worried about my list of supposed symptoms. He probably thought I was crazy too!

The entire time I poured myself out to Phobos, he just held me, rubbing a hand in a slow, steady circle on my back. “Shh, you’re okay,” he kept repeating, but I couldn’t catch my breath between jagging sobs to tell him that no, I was absolutely not okay. I was so far from okay, I was in a whole different galaxy.

Slowly, slowly, though, the tears began to ebb. The tightness in my chest eased, and my gasps evened out until I could finally draw a full breath.

“There you are,” Phobos whispered, running his fingers gently through my hair in a rhythmic pattern that soothed my nerves and sent goosebumps dancing over my skin. “Cameron… that wasn’t just about the broken spear, was it. You can tell me what’s wrong, you know. Maybe I can help.”

I wanted so much to believe him. I let myself believe for a moment that I could tell him what was going on, and that he would believe me.

Leaning back, I tilted my chin up to look him in the face. His eyes were soft, pleading with me. I could trust him, I knew I could. He brushed him thumbs along my cheeks, wiping away my tears. “You’re so beautiful, even when you’re sad.”

He angled his head and moved slowly, giving me lots of time to stop him, but I was still reeling, confused, overwhelmed. Was he going to kiss me? Did I want him to? Maybe I did…

His lips were as soft and warm as a summer breeze, and my eyes fluttered closed. Phobos was gentle, kind, and when I felt his tongue against the seam of my lips, I opened my mouth in invitation. I could be what he wanted, the strong, powerful omega at his side, the unstoppable team. The picture he’d painted, it was so enticing, and I wanted to want it. But deep down I knew… neither of us fit that mold.

Even as the cold sliver of doubt wedged itself between us, I clung to his shirt, dragging him impossibly closer, forcing myself to be present. I wanted him to be rougher, to manhandle me, throw me down and make me feel something good for once, but he remained frustratingly gentle. He moaned into my mouth, but the sound didn’t make me feel sexy and wanted—instead, it had the opposite effect, making me feel like a fraud, urging me to pull away from a future that was never meant for me.

What began as doubt quickly blossomed into dread, curiosity into certainty. This was wrong.

Maybe I shouldn’t have tempted fate.

Phobos’s gentle embrace clamped tight like a vise until my ribs screamed under the pressure, squeezing the air from my lungs. His warm lips turned scalding, searing my skin from my body, and when I gasped, his tongue slithered deep down my throat, choking me. Panic smothered me, painted my vision red. I couldn’t breathe! It was too much, too much!

I stumbled back, gasping, and when Phobos reached to steady me, I slapped his hand away. I brought my hand to my lips, expecting them to be blistered and raw, but found them intact, still moist from his kisses. He looked so worried as I blinked up at him in confusion, the overhead lights burning my oversensitive eyes.

“What was that?” he asked, taking a step closer. “What happened?”

I mirrored his step, moving back, until we both froze, the distance between us both too much and not enough. “It’s nothing, just… I can’t. Do this, I mean.” I waved a hand between us, finding it impossible to look him in the eye. “It’s not you, you’re amazing. I’m sorry, I’m just messed up. I have some stuff going on right now, and it’s not the time for… whatever this is.”

“You’re not messed up,” he said firmly, his jaw set stubbornly. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Whatever you have going on, I’m here for you. Say the word, whatever help you need, just ask and it’s yours.”

I nodded jerkily. He thought I was perfect, but he didn’t know what a lie that was. There was so much going on beneath the surface that he would never be able to see, not even with X-ray vision. I retreated unsteadily toward the stairwell.

He called after me, his voice full of grief. “Hey, Cameron, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you into anything. Take all the time you want. Just promise that you’ll think about us.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I barely made it up the stairs, clinging to the railing, half crawling. I had no idea how I made it to bed, but I was grateful for the soft mattress as I collapsed face first into my pillow. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I forced myself to stay awake. I needed to make an important phone call.

I’d been a fool trying to live like everyone else for the past ten years. I wasn’t normal, never had been. And expecting a walk-in doctor, who normally treated ear infections and swimmer’s itch, to be able to treat someone as complex as a Chosen One was an error on my part.

This needed a specialist, someone trained in this field. I needed my handler.

Pulling my phone out, I struggled to see the screen clearly. My vision had begun to blur, and it hurt to blink, but I somehow fumbled my way through my contacts and hit dial .

I listened to the ringing on the other end of the phone, half desperate, half hoping he wouldn’t pick up. But then there was a click, and I heard him sigh. “Cameron. It’s been a long time.”

His voice was so familiar, and suddenly, it was like no time had passed at all. Memories flooded my mind, all the good times… and even more of the bad. I swallowed hard, unease eating at me from the inside out. “Barney. I need your help.”