Kinetic:

HOT, HOT, HOT!

By

Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

© copyright by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime, March 2007

Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright March 2007

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Chapter One

Whatever I'd been expecting, this wasn't it.

I stared at the scorch mark on the wall. Vaguely man-shaped, the burn stretched higher than my five-feet, two and half inches. If it had been a man that left that still smoking smudge on the wall, he'd been tall, six feet or more. The scorched paint reached down to the upscale flooring, but that wasn't the strangest thing about it. The carpet beneath it hadn't even been singed.

"Well?" asked the detective in the brown suit. Someone new. Someone I'd never met before. Apparently Marco was on holiday. I'd always had a thing against men that wore brown suits. Or maybe it was brown suits in general. But Detective Brown Suit (I think his name might have been Jenkins or something) didn't seem to have good taste in anything. His hair was slicked back with some kind of greasy looking goo that didn't do anything to offset the shoddy effect of the brown suit. He had a mustard stain at the corner of his mouth, as if he'd been called away from scarfing down a hot dog. Well, maybe he had. At the thought of food my stomach growled loudly. "Well?" detective bad suit asked again.

Now, I'm not a cop. I'm not a trained investigator of any sort. I'm a good Samaritan with some odd talents.

"Spontaneous human combustion," piped up one of the uniformed cops. Marshall, I think his name was. He'd been at a few crime scenes that I'd investigated. "That's what one of the fire fighters said."

Oh great, I thought. Everyone's an expert. But then, I reflected, fire fighters must see their share of strange stuff, too.

Detective brown suit gave me a dubious glance. A glance that practically screamed, get the freak out of here.

I shook my head. "With SHC you'd expect to see some peripheral burning, some singeing of the carpet and maybe even the floor boards beneath." I pointed to the pristine carpeting. "See not even a smudge."

Jenkins snorted. He of the bad suit and badder attitude.

"Could someone have poured something on him from above?" a female cop asked. Now there was a halfway intelligent question. I didn't recognize her, someone else new. But at least she seemed reasonable.

I glanced up. Nothing above the scorch mark seemed to have been disturbed. The paint was the same even shade as the rest of the apartment. "I'm guessing not," I said. "Are we even sure there was a him?"

"You're guessing?" Jenkins asked. "Miss Addison, we pay you to do more than guess."

The female cop checked her notes. "The apartment is rented to someone named George Dawson. His neighbor next door reported hearing someone scream, just before….well, whatever."

I nodded to show that I'd heard her and turned back to Jenkins. "For the record, detective, you don't pay me. And the supernatural isn't an exact science."

He gave me a look that said he didn't think the supernatural was any kind of science at all. "My apologies," he said curtly. "And your guess would be what?"

I sighed. No matter how often I did this, no matter how many people I helped, there were still some members of the force that saw me as a necessary evil, a freak, or at worst, some kind of trained monkey.

"It isn't the way they show it in the movies. I don't see it like a film running. I don't see a reenactment of the crime. I just get, well, feelings, sort of. It's hard to explain. I can feel things other people can't. Just like you can glance up at the sky, see dark clouds and feel the moisture hanging in the air and deduce it's going to rain, I can sense the remnants of unearthly forces in the ether. I'm pretty good, but I'm not always correct. Every time you see dark clouds, doesn't mean it's always going to rain."

Shutting my eyes, I let my senses comb the world invisible to most people. I could feet the vibrations of something violent still lingering in the air. In my mind's eye, I saw a flash, an arc of electricity crackling the air, a scream, the smell of flesh burning. And then it was gone like ashes scattered on a breeze. Like I said, hardly an exact science.

I straightened and drew myself up, squaring my shoulders. It didn't make me look any taller, that much I knew, but it made me feel better. "My guess," I began with heavy emphasis on the word guess. "Judging by the fact that the carpet beneath where Mr. Dawson was obviously standing isn't scorched in any way, and that the apartment shows no signs of break and enter, I'd say we're dealing with pyrokinesis."

I waited for the skeptical looks, the dismissive glances. But Jenkins of the bad suit merely snorted and stalked away.

"Okay," I said to the assembled cops still staring at me. Some, those who'd worked with me before, groaned audibly. Even if I was right, working such a crime was going to be a challenge. And if I was wrong…well, just say we were all going to look stupid. "That's my best guess. Talk to Liu. If he thinks he's going to need my help, he knows my number." Martin Liu was the Chief of Police. We had an uneasy relationship to say the least. But we'd worked together enough times that he knew he could trust my judgment. Liu was a lot more reasonable, but not much better dressed than his lackey Brown Suit Jenkins.

I left them with that to chew on. No sense staying and taking any more of their skepticism or abuse.

It had gotten dark while I was inside. I'm not real found of the dark. Would you be if you could see monsters? So I walked very quickly toward my car. It was easy enough to find in the building's parking lot, being lime green and the tiniest car there.

I paused, my hand on the door handle. I should have jumped in and just driven away. But I stopped because the air crackled around me like it was gunning for a giant storm. I glanced at the sky, but the indigo horizon was clear and dotted with the first dusting of stars.

And then I saw it. A flash, a snap like static electricity. The air between me and the building shimmered in the fading light like heat rising from tarmac on a hot day. Only the evening wasn't particularly warm. I felt every hair on my body snap to attention as the air rippled, then it was gone.

No, I realized staring down the driveway at the busy street beyond, it was moving. I jumped into my car and gunned the engine. The little car squealed as I rapidly changed gears and charged into traffic. Up ahead, I saw that watery-looking air and followed. Whatever it was, it moved quickly along the sidewalk. Like something--no someone running.

Like I said, I'm not a cop. The force wasn't paying me…yet. If I got involved in an active investigation, they would. But Liu hadn't made a ruling yet. I was on my own time. Time I really didn't have a lot of having a day job and all. I should just go home, I told myself. I should go to bed, get a full night's sleep for a change. Not that I would be sleeping after what I'd seen. But curiosity got the better of me and I kept weaving in and out of traffic, risking getting a ticket just to see what was at the end of that mysteriously shifting air.

The glitter above the sidewalk stopped suddenly. Then it seemed to fold into itself and twist into nothing. For a moment I thought I'd lost it, that I'd been a fool not to take the opportunity to get a head start on that good night's sleep, and then I saw that tell-tale ripple in the atmosphere fading off down an alleyway.

Twisting the steering wheel, I maneuvered out from between two cars and made a sharp right turn. The small car just fit between the walls of the buildings and the bags of garbage stacked against the walls. Now I was going to have to pay for a car wash as well, I thought darkly. The alleyway ended at what looked like a dead end. I slammed my hand against the steering wheel in frustration. But then I looked to the right and noticed a narrow wrought iron gate that led to a courtyard that backed onto two buildings set at right angles.

And heading for the back door of one of those buildings was that strangely glittering shape.

I jumped from the car. The wrought iron fence wasn't really made to keep anyone out and I jumped it easily. "Wait!" I yelled, holding up my hands in the universal sign of surrender. "I just want to talk."

For an instant that glitter just hung in the air. Then with another snap like lightning hitting, it changed.

It started at the ground. Where there'd only been what looked like rippling air, suddenly there were a pair of Nike sneakers, then a pair of faded denims hugging a pair muscular legs. The rest of those jeans filled out nicely, I couldn't help noticing. Heck, I'm only human. Above the denims grew a black cotton t-shirt stretched over a fine-looking chest. This guy, whoever, whatever he was, spent some time at the gym. A nice pair of shoulders topped that chest. I caught a glimpse of sandy blond hair, full lips and a straight nose. But it was the eyes that stopped me cold. Amber, like no human eyes should be, they reflected the light from the street like a cat's. He blinked and they faded to a more normal-looking light brown. He stared at me like a trapped animal, cautious, but likely he was as curious about me as I was about him.

"Look, I'm not a cop or anything," I said. Oh, now that was smooth.

"What are you, then?" he asked. His voice was smooth like honey. I'd listen to him read his laundry list quite happily.

"Consultant," I told him.

"No, I meant, what are you?"

"Not sure I rightly know," I blurted. It seemed safe enough to tell him that, after all, he'd emerged out of a gust of glittering air. "I'm kind of self-taught." That sort of clarified things. And it was true. No one in my family had my kind of gifts. I didn't find out I was adopted until adulthood. Turned out my birth mother had died, so there really wasn't anyone I could ask. My adoptive parents didn't like to discuss it. To this day, I think I make them kind of nervous. It's just easier to maintain the illusion of being normal, and keep my strange second job a secret. I could have told him all of this. He might even have understood, but I stopped talking, afraid to reveal too much. "What are you?"

"Elemental," he said in that honeyed voice. He didn't say what kind. But if he'd been at the apartment where I was pretty sure a guy had been seared enough to leave a smudge on the wall, then I was betting fire.

"Please tell me you didn't zap that guy into oblivion."

At that he looked genuinely taken aback. For an instant I saw that strange reflective glitter in his eyes, then it vanished. "No, of course not." He pursed those full lips, biting back his anger at my accusation. My gaze was drawn to them. No man should have a mouth like that, I thought, then tore my thoughts away. This guy could be a killer and I was staring at his mouth. I really ought to get it together.

"So what were you doing there?"

He sighed and took a step toward me. I resisted the urge to back up. The air crackled between us. I really wanted to bolt and run, but I didn't. For a moment he studied me, while I tried to stare calmly back at him. Whatever he saw or sensed about me seemed to satisfy him. "I was drawn to the sudden outburst of energy. I can sense others like me. So I went to see what was happening."

"And you saw that guy's--" I tried to think of the right word, "smudge on the wall?"

"More or less."

"So why did you run?"

"We don't like to be seen in our elemental form."

"Okay, I guess that's probably not a good idea." That much I could identify with. "People just don't understand." I'd had enough experience with that, starting with my adoptive parents.

He nodded at that, still standing far too close for comfort and watching me intently.

"But why bother to investigate anyway? Who'd believe you even if you wanted to do something about it?"

He remained silent for a moment, still studying me, deciding I guess, if I could be trusted. "It's my job to investigate."

I let that thought sink in. He had a job investigating supernatural stuff, kind of like I did. "So you're what? Some kind of supernatural cop?"

Expecting him to laugh, I was taken aback by his calm nod of acceptance. "You could say that."

"Right," I said. While we'd been talking the sky had darkened. It was suddenly way spooky standing there in the courtyard talking to some guy who could turn himself into living flame. I shouldn't be admiring the set of his broad shoulders or the way his full lips pursed when he was annoyed. I ought to be high-tailing it back to my tiny car and getting the hell out of there. "Okay, then. Nice to meet you and all, but it's late and I should be going."

I started to edge away from him, back toward the little gate that led to the alley.

He moved, faster than I would have ever thought possible. One second he was standing there in the courtyard, then next he'd darted to my side. His hand gripped my arm, not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to let me know it would be difficult to get rid of him. Through the thin material of my shirt, his hand felt warm. Really warm, like he had a higher body temperature than most people. Or that there really was flame running through his veins.

I tried to pull away from him, testing his grip. Yep, it was as unbreakable as I thought.

"Wait," he said low and urgent. "We could help each other."

"Help?" I squeaked out. All right, I know I said I had supernatural powers and all, but I'm no hero. I help the police (when they believe me) with stuff that happens beyond the realm of their experience. They do all the tough stuff. Not that I'd let any of them know, but I'm deathly afraid of spiders and not real crazy about the dark.

"Yes, help." He smiled, showing a row of even white teeth. He looked really friendly when he did that. It was a nice smile. The kind of smile that could lead a girl to doing things against her better judgment. "I am as you so quaintly put it, kind of a supernatural cop, but I have no jurisdiction in the real police force." He paused for a moment, measuring his words. "We exist under a loose set of rules and we try to keep a low profile. We police each other."

"To make sure your existence stays a secret?"

"Right."

Then he couldn't be too happy about someone like me running around crying werewolf, now could he? "How does that concern me?"

"The police force trusts you."

"Sort of," I interjected.

He nodded. "Granted. But you can get into places I can't. You could help me track down the person responsible."

"That's kind of a job for the real police, don't you think?"

For a moment I saw another flash of that glittery anger in his eyes, then it vanished again. "No, I think they're quite out of their…element on this one."

Great, I thought. Just what I needed. An elemental with a penchant for bad puns. "Funny."

He had the good sense to look chagrined. "Look," he said in that mellow voice. "Just because normal humans can't see them doesn't mean there aren't some really nasty things out there ready to prey on them. And the only things standing between that happening are you and me."

Not fair to appeal to my sense of justice, it'll get me every time. It almost never works in my favor, but I'm just one of those people who likes to help. One of those people who needs to feel needed. I must be wearing it on my sleeve if he could see it so clearly. Damn.

"I don't know," I said, hedging. After all, it was late and dark and I did have a day job that I had to get to early in the morning. And in spite of the joy and relief I felt at finally finding someone else like me. No, someone far weirder than me, I corrected mentally, I really didn't know if I wanted to go messing around in some supernatural crime. Like I told Mr. Fire-Man, I usually let the police do the heavy lifting. I'm no cop.

"We could really use someone like you," he said, his voice low and urgent, adding a little compulsion, almost like hypnosis. But even under hypnosis you're unlikely to do something against your basic principles, and my principles included staying in one piece. "Someone who can move in the human world practically unseen."

An insult wrapped in a compliment. It took a moment before I got it.

"Are you calling me inhuman?"

"No!" He looked shocked that I might think of it that way. For a moment I thought I saw pain and regret flash through his eyes. That's when I realized that he probably didn't think of himself as wholly human. Not only that, he probably spent his time among others who didn't think they were human either. The reality of it made my head spin. "I just meant that you have special skills. Skills the rest of us don't have. You're more…normal."

I laughed. The harsh sound reverberated through the courtyard. "Well, that's the first time someone's called me that."

"I know the feeling." Another flash of that pain, swiftly gone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card of all things. I nearly laughed. And then I wondered where that business card had come from, in fact, I wondered where those clothes had come from when a few minutes ago he'd been nothing but glittering air in the evening sky. One brief thought of him without clothes sent a rush of blood to my face. I hoped he couldn't see me blush in the dark.

I was going to help him, I realized. He'd convinced me. I knew it as I reached for his card. Damn it all, I was gullible. Who knew what I was about to get myself into? Our fingers brushed as I took the card. I felt a zap like static electricity, then told myself I'd imagined it.

To drag my thought away, I looked down at his business card. Razael Quaylen, it read. And then a cell phone number. Nothing else.

Well, what was I expecting. A crystal ball?

"Razael," I said. "That your real name?"

"'Fraid so," he admitted with a smile. "You got a name?"

"Crystal," I said, holding out my hand. "Crystal Addison."

He took it gravely. His hand was big enough to swallow mine and his skin was pleasantly warm against the cooling air. Again I thought I felt that sudden zap of electricity, then it was gone.

"Call me," Razael said. He gave me an earnest look, the kind of look that would make you believe the whole world depended on me. "Do your best to get yourself on that investigation. And as soon as you find out anything, call me."

"And you're going to be doing what?" I asked.

"Trust me, I'm going to be busy enough working at it from another dimension."

And with that, he…well, he kind of evaporated from the top down just as quickly as he'd appeared. One instant he was standing there, as solid as you or me, the next the air kind of wavered and sparkled. Then he was gone.

I watched as the sparkly air shimmered, then wavered toward the steps that led to the apartment's back door. Was that where he lived, I wondered, or was he just trying to throw me off his trail?

Full dark had fallen while we'd talked. Have I mentioned I don't like the dark? But there didn't seem to be anything malicious hiding in it, at least nothing I could sense. So I made my way back to through the alleyway toward where I'd left my car. I glanced back at the dark courtyard. Nothing sparkled or glittered in the night air. Maybe Fire-Man had decided to call it a night. I started the car and headed for home.