Page 24 of Splintered
The window in the corner was open. Their gauze curtains floated, effervescent, on a three AM winter’s breeze.
No.He vaulted over the bed to the window, frantic images of Evan tumbling from the ledge burning into his brain. But the screen was still in place, firmly locked into the window frame. Nothing had gone through, at least. He breathed out, his breath fogging again.
Grabbing his robe, Ben began his search. The bathroom was empty, as was the rest of the top floor, the spare bedrooms in mid-remodel and the upstairs bathroom half stripped of old wallpaper. The house was dark and silent, only the heavy thuds of his feet hitting the cold hardwood making any sound. “Evan? Evan, where are you?”
Nothing.
He palmed on the chandelier at the top of the stairs and headed down, his toes curling against the chill. How long had the window been open? What was going on with the heat? “Evan?”
Darkness silhouetted against the windows in the living room. The shape of a man, but also something else. As if the shadowy figure pulsed with something beyond a man. Something malevolent, a thing that seethed. That radiated the cold that filled the house with a matching fury.
Ben froze at the base of the stairs. The light above hummed, the glow fading, the beams of light falling short of whatever was in the front room.
Swallowing, Ben slammed his hand on the living room light switch. The overhead lights flared on, surging too brightly for an instant. Ben winced, squinting.
Evan melted out of the darkness, standing before the open living room windows in his boxers. Curtains twirled around his ankles and slid up his calves.
“What are you doing?” Ben rushed to him, grabbing a throw blanket from the couch and wrapping it around Evan’s shoulders. Evan was as cold as ice. He rubbed his arms through the blanket. “Did you open the windows? Jesus, how many did you open? The house is freezing!”
“I was hot…” Evan mumbled. “I was burning up.”
“This is too cold. It’s freezing outside! It’s almost winter, we can’t open the windows like this.”
“Can’t get cold enough…”
“You’re practically hypothermic. Your skin is frozen.” Ben kept rubbing Evan’s arms. Goosebumps prickled Evan’s chest. In Ben’s arms, Evan trembled. “You’re freezing.”
“No, I’m not.” Evan tried to push Ben away. “I’m not, I’m burning up. I’m trapped in the fire. I have to get out.” He grabbed Ben’s arms. One hand clenched around Ben’s cast, too hard. Ben winced. “Help me,” Evan whispered. “Help me, Ben. Ben…” He squeezed, dragging Ben closer, pressing them together.
Ben tried to hold Evan’s gaze. Evan seemed a million miles away, orbiting another reality. His stare was unfocused, his gaze wild and vacant at the same time. “Let’s go upstairs, hon. Let’s get back in bed.” He tried to twist out of Evan’s bruising grip. His casted arm ached. His other felt like the bones were about to snap under Evan’s hold. “Let go.” He hissed. “You’re hurting me!”
Evan’s gaze flashed to Ben’s, locking together for a moment.
The darkness, that edge-of-the-void black he’d seen in Evan’s eyes the night he’d had his seizure, was back. His pupils had swallowed any hint of gold.
As their eyes held, Ben felt, in the deepest part of himself, the most primal corner of his mind, his heart, that the man who held him in a bruising, punishing hold, wasnotEvan.
Terror soaked him, washed through his soul. He was drowning in terror, in pure bone-screaming fright.Evan, Evan! Where was Evan?He had to get away, now,right now! He opened his mouth, to scream, to shout, to try to call Evan’s name, to try to escape thisthingthat held him—
Evan pushed him back, letting go and shoving him against the wall. Ben hit between the open windows, rattling a mirror and two candleholders. Dazed, his vision swam as his head bounced off the plaster as Evan collapsed, falling limp to the hardwood.
He thought he saw something— No, wait…
Blinking, he crawled to Evan, reaching for his lover. He had to see—
He hesitated before grabbing Evan’s shoulder. What would he see when he spun him over?
Gently, he pushed Evan onto his back with shaking hands as he held his breath.
Evan was out, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and regular.
What the fuck was going on?
* * *
Chapter Eight
He sethourly alarms on his watch for the next two nights, waking to check on Evan in bed. Every hour, Evan was unconscious beside him, drooling and snoring and faceplanted into the pillow. He had no memory of getting out of bed and opening the windows in the bedroom and living room, or of anything he’d said to Ben. He seemed confused when Ben had asked him about it, and exhausted, as if puzzling through what Ben was asking made his brain ache.
