Elemental Man

By Summer Devon

A novella about a superhero.

Caleb is an ordinary guy...except for his bizarre ability to adapt to any situation. Really. Anything goes. Fire and water are no problem for him.

Someone is shoving innocents into dangerous situations and Caleb is forced to act again and again. It's up to him to stop the person who's trying to draw him out. He already suspected his attractive neighbor is his stalker and then she demonstrates the rare ability of seeing him as he adapts.

After Caleb confronts her, he has another problem on his hands. He's told the innocent civilian Melinda far too much about himself and she apparently has some extraordinary skills herself. Her rare skills might make Melinda a target of the stalker who's after Caleb.

And, thanks to his mistake about her identity, the nuisance of an agency that controls his life has been alerted to her existence as well. Caleb decides he has to protect and hide her from his friends and foes. Maybe she won't notice he's pretending they've got a future together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K Rothwell
• Release date: Jul 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476238326

Summer Devon

About the Author Summer Devon is the alter ego of Kate Rothwell who also writes under her own name.  Summer writes m/m books of all sorts. Many of her titles are co-written with Bonnie Dee For more information about Summer/Kate, go to http://katerothwell.com or http://summerdevon.com.  Summer can also be found at https://www.facebook.com/S.DevonAuthor

Book preview

Elemental Man

Copyright © 2012 by Summer Devon

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of

this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or

transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying,

recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner

and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are

either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author

acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products

referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The

publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by

the trademark owners.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading

this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you

should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

A novella about a superhero who's an ordinary guy, except for that bizarre ability to adapt to fire, water and air. . .

Someone is shoving innocents into dangerous situations where Caleb is forced to act. He must stop the person who's trying to draw him out.

He already suspects his attractive neighbor is his stalker and then she demonstrates the rare ability of seeing him. After Caleb confronts her, he has another problem on his hands. He’s told the innocent civilian Melinda too much about himself and she apparently has some extraordinary skills herself.

Her skills might make Melinda a target of the nuisance who's stalking him. And, thanks to his mistake, the nuisance of an agency that controls his life has been alerted to her as well. Caleb decides he has to protect and hide her from his friends and foes. Maybe she won't notice he's pretending she could be part of his life permanently.

Chapter One

Lindy watched the scene from her loft’s window. She couldn’t see flames, just a few wisps of smoke. The flashing lights of the emergency equipment reflected in the puddles of water as the firefighters worked the scene at the abandoned warehouse.

Her casual interest in what seemed a small fire twisted into dread when Lindy saw a group of emergency workers gesturing frantically at the doorway. She’d been listening to music while she’d sewed, but now she turned off her MP3 player, removed her earbuds and leaned on the windowsill to watch ambulance crews scurry close.

One long minute later, two figures staggered out of the building to cheers from the crowd she could hear from a hundred yards away. One was in the full regalia of a firefighter, and the other was in regular clothes—clothes that were actually smoking. She rubbed her eyes and squinted. But there was no doubt about it. Smoking guy supported the firefighter, not the other way around.

Even more peculiar, the EMTs only grabbed the fireman even though the other guy had to be in more trouble.

Instead of collapsing, he backed away from the crowd. He turned and ran. His clothes still trailing smoke, he vanished into the darkness, heading across the parking lot in the direction of the artists-lofts where she lived. No one seemed to notice that he was gone.

Lindy wanted to call to him, but the window was closed against the cold spring air and no one would hear her over the sound of engines and shouting. She peered out at the scene, trying to see around the side of her building, waiting for the guy with the smoking clothes to stumble back out of the dark.

After a few minutes, she couldn’t bear the suspense and trotted down the stairs to look for him.

She gazed around the weed-choked parking lot between the two buildings that had once been factories. During the summer, teenaged kids parked here—this time of year they’d only come out weekends.

Lindy had exceptionally good vision and a strong streetlight towered over the cracked pavement, but she’d brought a flashlight so she could peer into dark corners. She followed the beam along the battered chain-link fence searching for a slumped body. Nothing.

She headed toward the other building, where the blinking and swirling emergency lights still slashed the night sky.

Excuse me. She approached a policeman who was wiping his face with a cloth.Can you tell me if the man who came out of the building is okay?

He shoved the tissue into his trouser pocket.Yes ma’am. The sergeant suffered from smoke inhalation but he will be fine.

The firefighter? I don’t mean him. The one who helped him.

He frowned. Ma’am? She could almost hear him thinking crazy lady.

Lindy suspected she had done it again—she’d seen something…wrong. So much for that excellent vision thing. Yeah, of course what she’d seen was impossible. A vivid imagination, her mother had always said. Bonkers, was her sister’s explanation.

She trudged back up the stairs to her loft and stared out the window until the last fire hose had been rolled up. All of the fire engines had rumbled away from the site before she crawled into her bed.

After staying up too long, getting up at five a.m. proved a real challenge. She dressed fast, and yawned almost constantly until she slid open the big door on the old factory wall to go down the stairs. Then she woke up, quick.

A figure lay sprawled on the unpolished wooden floor next to the bathroom.

Every now and then a street person made his way up here—usually to use one of the public restrooms found on each floor of lofts. She didn’t mind as long as they didn’t pee in the hallway and didn’t wander into her loft. This guy didn’t look good though.

Hey! She resisted the strong desire to keep her distance. After all the poor man probably couldn’t help the way he looked and he might need help. She knelt by him.

His skin glowed bright red, like he had the sunburn from hell. His clothes were just about nonexistent. Those oddly ruined clothes, the skin that looked burned…

The dots finally connected in her overtired brain. He wasn’t the victim of some funky disease. It was the guy from last night.

She had a tendency to make up crazy things, her family claimed, but she most definitely hadn’t invented this guy.

Lindy fumbled for her phone as she leaned over him. Sir? Can you hear me? It’ll be okay. I’m calling nine-one-one.

No. He groaned.

You’re the one that ran out from the fire.

It wasn’t a question but he answered. No. He squirmed away from her. Lemme be. I’ll go. I’m out of here.

The only place you’re going is the hospital. She reached out to lay a reassuring hand on him, then changed her mind. Even a light touch might hurt that injury.

He opened his eyes to stare up at her. Pale eyes in the reddened face. I said no. Thank you. He coughed—and, holy shit, a plume of smoke came out of his mouth. I live here. His voice was deep and gravelly. The ultimate smoker’s voice.

No, you do not.

Wait, no. I’m taking care of the whatsit’s place. The artists on the third floor. The guys are on vacation. I fell asleep before I got to their place. I’d had too much to drink. Sorry if I’m disturbing you. He slowly raised himself to sit.

She stared down at him and realized that his face looked familiar.

She’d seen him a few days earlier, standing out in the parking lot of the building. They’d even exchanged a greeting. He’d asked her where he could find the nearest grocery store. She’d said something like welcome to the neighborhood and her smile had apparently spooked him. He’d stared at her and taken a step backwards before thanking her and walking away, fast. At the time she’d thought he was afraid she might be coming onto him, which, all right, she might have considered. If he hadn’t fled like a frightened kid.

The guy had secrets—she’d known that just by looking at him as he walked away from her that day—but she suspected he also was plain old shy.

Now the man was lying on the floor and in obvious pain. Except even though he looked like hell, he spoke too easily and seemed too alert to be in shock. His clothes might be next to dead but he wasn’t.

We shouldn’t take any chances, she said.

Just leave me alone. Thanks, he added in a mutter.

She scowled at him. Listen, I am not letting you lie in this hall. Either you let me call for help or prove you’re going to be okay by going upstairs to Kevin and Danny’s place.

He groaned. I’ll be fine. And I’ll clean up the mess later.

What mess? Oh, whoa. He had to mean the black bits that had fallen to the ground around him. The clothes that were