Burning Up Inside

A Dangerous Creatures Short Story

A week and a half ago seemed like a lifetime. Like a horrible, drawn out, anxiety attack of a lifetime.

"Will the mission be dangerous?"

Jack looked over his shoulder at her. Blond brows coming down. He was frowning, but Cindy didn't take it personally since that's all he seemed to be doing lately.

Still, knowing she'd asked a stupid question during a time when stress was flying overheard like a thick murder of black crows that were just getting ready for the eye pecking made her babble just a little. "I mean, more dangerous. If that makes any sense. No, it doesn't, but you've been in this building before, right? You should know your way around, so it'll be almost safe for you, right?"

Jack's expression softened, but he still looked tired. Just tired. The constant hours awake he spent with the people in charge, going over plans, drawing up blueprints of the building they were going to be raiding from memory, was taking its toll.

"It should be easier," he said, turning back to the papers he was staring at. It seemed that he'd been doing almost nothing but staring at those same papers all morning.

Every once in a while Cindy thought she caught sight of Jack making notes with a red pen, but that usually happened when she wasn't exactly facing the right way. She caught sight of those incidents from the corner of her eye, and when she turned to look, it was like he hadn't moved at all, and Cindy was fairly sure that it had just been dust floating around in the air that was making her see things.

Maybe. Not that it mattered.

Maybe Cindy was just extra antsy because she hated feeling useless, sitting around and doing nothing while Jack and Ethan worked so hard to convince the powers that be around here that they could be trusted.

As a former hunter of people with paranormal abilities, like Cindy, Jack was pretty lucky that he and Ethan weren't killed the second they got here.

Of course, being on the run with a couple of paranormals, and offering to help the paranormals who lived here break into a heavily secured compound to free other paranormals, had likely won them some brownie points.

Cindy bounced from heel to toe and back again, shaking out her hands a little just to expel some energy. Jack looked too damned stressed, and that wasn't making Cindy any easier.

"Do you need any help?"

Jack didn't turn to look at her when he shook his head. He was so focused on the blue prints he'd drawn up. "No thanks, I'm fine."

What was he even looking for? Was he trying to remember things to add to the blueprint? Passages and corridors that he'd only been down once or twice, or trying to think of the best and most likely places Jessica could be kept?

The rising burn inside of her was not because of Jessica. The woman was a paranormal who could control ice and cold. She'd also saved Jack and Cindy when the Collectors had come for them. Jack was working so hard because he wanted to save her. He'd want to save anyone he cared about.

Cindy glanced down at the blank white coffee mug that was beside his blueprints. There was a small drop of dry coffee that had dried and stained the ceramic, and she knew it was empty.

"Want more coffee?"

Jack made a noncommittal noise and waved his hand. Cindy had no clue what that meant, so she just stepped forward and took the mug.

Getting so close to Jack, standing right beside him for however briefly, was enough. She could feel how bunched and tight the muscles in his shoulders were. From this angle, his tired face looked worse. She could really notice the stubble that usually gave him a dashing appeal for what it was.