Heroes 'Til Curfew (Talent Chronicles #2)

by Susan Bischoff

  Well who would? “And your parents let you stay friends with him?”

  “Well by that time, it was just my mom. Marco’s parents were really good about helping out with the hospital bills and stuff, and my mom…she doesn’t…I mean, yeah, I guess it was all bygones, you know?”

  Um, no. Why did I feel like I understood less than before? “Do you miss being friends with him?”

  “No. He hadn’t been my friend for a while. I know that. Plus…” his voice took on a teasing tone, breaking the mood as he slung an arm around my shoulders, “I have you to look out for me now. And you are way more badass, not to mention easy on the eyes, and very kissable.” He proved that with a smacking kiss on my cheek.

  I was going to own being at least more kissable than Marco. I wished I could believe the more badass part. Dylan’s ability to shift the mood like that was part of his charm, but I often felt pulled off-balance by it. I had him talking, and I wasn’t done yet.

  “Wait, go back to the part where—”

  “Yeah, okay, in a minute,” he said, stopping to turn me toward him and take my face in his hands. “I gotta prove this point first, about your superior kissability.” But right before his lips would have touched mine, he turned his head and looked down the alley.

  I heard it too.

  * * *

  Dylan

  The gust of wind that cut down the alley gave me a chill. Or maybe that was because it caught the unlatched back door of Vinyl Salvation, making it rattle slightly on its hinges with little, metallic, tapping sounds. Joss flinched the moment we heard it, and then she slipped from my hands.

  Damn.

  She was already peeking inside before I grabbed the door and the girl and separated them.

  “Why don’t you just let me do that?” I whispered, letting my heart rate go into high gear, which somehow made it easier to imagine being invisible, and to let that spread over me, over my clothes, and make me disappear.

  Joss was watching, giving me a look that was part raised brow, part narrow-eyed glare. It was an impressively damning look, so I let go of the back of her jacket. But I couldn’t resist ducking in to surprise her with a kiss before slipping into the darkened stockroom. I grinned at the new look on her face, thinking this invisible kiss stealing thing had possibilities.

  “Wait here while I check it out. I’ll be right back.”

  The back rooms of Vinyl Salvation were a disaster. And not because anything had happened there. Well, nothing except a bunch of minimum wage-earning kids not having any kind of system of organization. And the owner, Rick, an aging stoner with an inheritance and Peter Pan Syndrome, wasn’t the most supervisory boss ever.

  I moved slowly, picking my way around randomly stacked cartons, and stepping over used packing materials that had never made it to the trash in someone’s excitement to get the latest release out onto the floor. Even though I was invisible, I still tried to skirt away from the light that spilled in through the open door to the sales floor. Something caught my eye, and I jerked my head but it turned out to be just light glinting off a drum kit that was set up back there, along with guitars and amps, like a practice had just broken up.

  And that’s when I saw that Joss was following me. I turned to glare at her, but then remembered she couldn’t see me. She jumped a little when I took her hand, then smiled, and it was hard to be mad at her. I positioned myself in the doorway, farther out in the opening than I would have otherwise, so that Joss would have more cover as she looked from behind me.

  Jeff hurled something toward us, and I almost turned and knocked Joss to the floor. Then a record shattered above us and rained black bits onto the floor.

  “Idiot,” Joss hissed behind me.

  In the wide, high-ceilinged shop with the tile mural walls that made the music bounce, Jeff was sitting up on top of one of the record racks, pulling out discs and throwing them, Frisbee-style, at Vinyl Salvation’s “Angel of Rock.”

  “Cut it out, jerk. You’re gonna make me mess this up.”

  I looked up to see a girl straddling the life-size angel statue that hung by steel cables from joists of the arched ceiling. The owner had bought it from an old church, which might not have sold it to him had they realized it would be strung up in an indie music store wearing leather fingerless gloves with long fringe and an electric guitar with a Union Jack design.

  “That’s Angie,” Joss breathed, “what’s she doing?”

  I turned around and used the excuse of quiet communication to pull Joss into me. I wished she would have stayed outside. “She’s giving the angel a makeover,” I said into her ear.

  “Oh, nice. Cretin. Did you see anyone else?”

  “That guy, Corey, from the other night, the one who nabbed you at Dog-Eared.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  Which I think might have been Joss humor. But before I could be sure, someone snapped, “Hey!” and we both jumped.

  “Don’t even think about it, Corey,” Angie menaced. “I’m supposed to be writing an English paper tonight, and instead I’m stuck here with you idiots because Bella’s making me watch her body because you’re a huge perv.”

  “I’ll watch it for you.”

  “Don’t you have some spray-painting to do?”

  “Bella. Damn,” Joss muttered.

  “Let’s back on out of here,” I whispered, starting to herd Joss away from the open door. “The cops can run them in for vandalizing the place. We’ll go call them.” I didn’t have any interest in slugging it out with these guys again.

  “Maybe she didn’t see us. Every time the cops have to get involved in Talent stuff, it’s bad for all of us. I can take these guys. Besides, I have some questions.”

  She went around me in the dark, slick as you please, and strode out into the light.

  Damn.

  For a second, I thought about staying invisible. Some element of surprise idea. But only for a second. I phased back and went in after her.

  Bella picked that moment to re-inhabit her body. She jerked and then jumped up.

  “Joss Marshall’s here with her boyfriend!” she yelled, at pretty much the same moment that everyone saw Joss standing there, and me, the nameless sidekick, coming up behind her.

  “Um, thanks for the heads-up, Bell,” Jeff said sarcastically. “Go get Marco!”

  Damn.

  Bella headed for the door, but a double-sided CD rack lifted up off the ground and whizzed by her, almost knocking her over, and settled in front of the door.

  Jeff let out his dumbass chucklehead laugh at that. “Oh no, what will we do now? Corey, go get Marco.”

  Corey grinned and walked into—through—the display.

  “Hey, thanks for keeping me from getting squashed the other night. I heard all about my ‘brush with death’ when I woke up in the hospital. Dylan, either your girlfriend really likes me, or she’s a genuine white hat. What do you think?”

  I took a deep breath, in and out. It was too late to turn back now, so I was just gonna let Joss do things her way and watch her back. That meant not discussing my girl with Jeff and losing my temper. Yet.

  “Don’t make me regret that anymore than I already do,” she was saying. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “What’s it look like we’re doing? Redecorating, some inventory control, that kind of stuff.”

  “What do you think?” Angie called.

  We looked up at the statue. She had done its makeup and given it some interesting tattoos. She sat there, cheek to cheek with the defaced angel, grinning down at us.

  Angie’s eyes suddenly went wide as she lost her balance and slid sideways off the statue. She flailed for the instant it took her to hit the floor. Since I knew what to look for, I saw the fraction of a second when Joss cushioned her landing a bit, just like I saw that her loss of balance looked a lot like someone being shoved.

  “Don’t quit your day job,” Joss said dryly. Then to Jeff, “So what happened, Rick refused to pay you guys?
”

  The door burst open, shoved so hard that the CD display that had been blocking it fell over and slid a few feet. Marco took a few running steps to leap up on top of it. The hollow, metal sound echoed off the tile. Tony and Nathan flanked him, making it look like a medals ceremony from the Juvie Crime Olympics. Corey came through the wall as though he couldn’t be bothered to take two steps to the right to come through the door.

  Show off.

  I had a quick this could have been me thought, but I wasn’t really clear how much of that was glad I got out and how much was wish I wasn’t on the other side right now.

  And it was just long enough to be ashamed of myself for thinking that. But hey, I was pretty scared. If I’d still been on Team Marco, maybe I could have found a way to smooth things over, talk my way around him. But not now, and if we didn’t find a way to back out of this, I didn’t see any way I could keep Joss from getting hurt. Again.

  “If it isn’t my absolute favorite couple. Strange place to bring a date, Dylan. Or did you find out you’re not enough man for her and decided to share?”

  “Jesus, does he ever get tired of making an ass of himself?” Joss asked of no one in particular. She was standing in front of me, feet planted apart, hands behind her back. She reached up slightly and tugged at the edge of my jacket, as if to remind me he wasn’t worth getting pissed about.

  Too late.

  “I was just asking Jeff what you guys are doing here tonight. Did Rick refuse to pay? Is that why you’re trashing his store?”

  “Pay?”

  “Oh come on, let’s just not. It’s a school night. Petty crimes, plus merchant payouts, plus you, equals protection scheme. Dylan didn’t have any trouble figuring out just what you were doing, so out with it.”

  “Dylan didn’t have any trouble,” Marco mocked her. “Of course not. ’Cause we all know the last thing Dylan wants is trouble. ‘Oh, no, I don’t wanna! What if we get in trouble?’”

  “Yeah,” I tried to laugh it off, “it’s all about fear of getting caught for the invisible guy. Maybe I was just tired of being your flunky instead of your friend.”

  “Hey!” he snapped, stepping forward, and Joss and I both braced. “You don’t get to play that card. Not when you threw over your best friend for that bitch!”

  As he said it, his arm drew back and then snapped forward, swiping the CD display next to him like an angry bear. Only this super-powered Grizzly launched the thing into the air, spinning toward us.

  I would have hit the deck, but I only had enough time to grab Joss’s shoulders before it stopped, hovered for a fraction of a second, and then bounced back toward Marco, volleyball style.

  There was a sizzling crack in the air, and then the display burst into a cloud of dust over Marco’s head before he could catch it or punch it or whatever. Choking, he reached out for Nathan. I was sure the kid was going to get it, but Marco just shook the kid’s shoulder in that way that was all too familiar to me.

  “Nice one, kid. Way to have my back.”

  Nathan flushed and grinned. Marco learning people skills for this crime lord thing? That was not good.

  Marco coughed again and shook more dust from his hair. “Why you gotta make me lose my temper? No, Rick didn’t pay. He probably meant to, but you know how he is. Real forgetful. Or he left the cash with one of his loyal employees and who knows what happened to it? But we didn’t get paid, and there have to be consequences for that. Just like there are going to be consequences for you guys if you don’t turn around and pretend you weren’t ever here.”

  Joss straightened. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Wow, that is just so moving,” Marco sneered, “your…commitment to law and order and justice and shit. What do you think, Tony?”

  “Yeah, it really is. Should we test that commitment?” Tony held out his hands, palms up, and they burst into flame. “How about a little fire, Scarecrow? Trina says you like to play with fire.” He moved his hands over each other, looking like an evil magician with this flickering orange glow on his face, and a ball of fire appeared in his hand. He hurled it toward us.

  Joss probably could have stopped something that small from reaching her, but I yanked her off to the side. She let out an un-Joss-like shriek, and I didn’t know if it was because of the fire or the manhandling, but she was pale, her eyes were wide, and seeing her scared pissed me off.

  The next thing I knew, my shoulder was connecting with Tony’s gut and I ran him into the check out counter.

  The high counter struck him behind the lungs, knocking the wind out of him. I followed up with a few hard shots to his ribs before he got his feet under him again. Then his hands came up, glowing and crackling with heat and orange flame. We circled each other for a moment, him throwing fiery punches, me dodging, getting in a few more hits.

  I ducked under a right cross aimed at my head, losing my balance just a little, and suddenly felt a searing burn on my neck.

  Son of a bitch! I fell back a step. I knew my jacket had taken the worst of it, but it hurt so bad it made me dizzy, my eyes watered and I could smell the stink of it. I wanted to get this over with.

  I charged Tony again. He caught me by the arms but I was still able to hammer at his midsection, driving him back toward the checkout. I pulled my arm free and hooked a blow that knocked him off his feet. His head struck the counter and he slumped to the ground.

  I dropped and rolled over once, just to be sure my jacket wasn’t still burning. Jeff grabbed me by the front of it and yanked me up. I tried to look around for Joss and saw Angie and Bella slip out of the front of the store. Jeff’s blow to my jaw spun my head back around to find Joss near the back wall, holding her own with Marco, but recoiling from one of his powerful hits that even her Talent couldn’t take all the sting out of. Jeff’s fist sunk into my gut, doubling me over. I had to pay attention. Joss could stand up to Marco for a while. She’d done it before. All I had to do was put Jeff down, and then I could get in there and help her. He couldn’t stand up to both of us.

  We could do this.

  Determined to get to Joss as soon as I could, I pushed hard and drove my shoulder up into Jeff’s stomach. He grabbed onto me, yanking me along with him as he stumbled back a few steps. I took the opportunity to get in a few more body shots, but I didn’t really have the leverage to hurt him much and he wasn’t letting go. He tried to pick me up and kinda throw me—dude was watching way too much TV wrestling. Of course that didn’t work, but it made us both falter off-balance.

  Then I heard it. That sizzling crack followed by a crash. Jeff and I both took a second to see one of the light fixtures shatter near Joss and Marco. I took advantage of the moment to land a right cross to Jeff’s face, and then looked up again. There were a few more light fixtures and a few ceiling fans that Nathan could use as ammunition. I wondered if he was trying to hit Joss or just distract her for Marco.

  While I was wondering, Jeff returned the favor with a solid blow to my cheek that sent me staggering sideways and down on one knee. I spat blood, adjusted, and waited a moment for him to come to me. I launched myself up and into him with a series of punches that drove him back to the wall.

  There was a flash of color in the corner of my eye, and I had to turn. I heard the groan of it at the same time I saw the guitar banging against the angel as it started its swing.

  I forgot Jeff. It was like that day at the construction site, when I was running full out and there was nothing in my mind but getting to Joss in time. It must have been Jeff who grabbed at me. I flung him off without stopping, but stumbled, trying to keep up my speed as I crashed into Joss. She was knocked clear, rolled, and disappeared in a flash of light.

  Then everything was dark.

  * * *

  Joss

  The voice that screamed his name didn’t sound like mine. I didn’t even feel like me. I don’t know what I felt. It was like nothing…and everything.

  The angel flew from Dylan, swung through the air lik
e a bat, taking Marco in the midsection, flinging him back, colliding with Nathan, both of them falling to the floor.

  Nathan. He did this.

  But I couldn’t think about that now. There was this pulsing ball of static in my head. A part of me that seemed far away thought, It’s shock. Keep your eye on Marco. Get to Dylan.

  Dylan.

  Marco and I maintained eye contact as I crawled across the floor, which felt like it was trembling beneath my hands. But maybe that was just how hard I was shaking. Marco shoved the wooden angel aside, but didn’t make any move to pick it up. He stayed on the floor. That faraway voice said, That’s what someone looks like when they’re cornered by a wild animal.

  Another part of me was pleased.

  My hands found Dylan, the stiff, cool leather of his jacket. And then there was blood.

  I glared at Marco, daring him to try something, and then looked down at Dylan. He lay facedown, still, one arm flung out. The arm that had shoved me away.

  Pulse, Joss. Find his pulse. Assess.

  I was moving so slowly. I knew that I was. I felt wrapped in something sticky that slowed my limbs, seeped into my head to slow my brain. Something that was dragging at time itself. The backs of my fingers trailed along Dylan’s cheek, the same way he would touch me. I had never done that before.

  Assess!

  Under the collar of his jacket, his neck was warm and slick with blood. My fingers slid into place and felt the throb of his pulse beneath his skin.

  Time revved back up, spinning my head like the hands on a watch gone mad. What do I do, what do I do? Okay, okay, there’s bleeding. So apply pressure to the wound. I looked around frantically for something quick and easy to press against his head. Nothing here! my mind screamed in frustration. I was about to try to yank the sleeve off my jacket when I saw a scarf lying several feet away, probably dropped by one of the girls. I threw out a line from my mind and grabbed it.

  Stop! Do not apply pressure to a head wound if any of the following conditions is present—