It was time to wake up.
Seriously, when was the last time I had gotten eight hours of sleep?
I had spent hours running around the city, jumping rooftop to rooftop, looking for something, anything, to do. In the end, that something had been taking a photo with a bunch of drunk tourists, who were eager to get a picture with Bailey City’s “first Actual.” Not exactly what I had been aiming for, but it distracted me from what had happened with Alex.
I could remember the wave of anger that had rocked through me when we had drawn close, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Calypso’s hatred for Alex, her memories of his betrayal, pulled me in as insistently as any nightmare. It had almost taken a car accident to jerk me out of it, but even afterward, I had felt it creeping back. Urging me toward violence, against someone I really liked. The only solution I had been able to come up with was running away.
Typical, stupid Dawn.
I sighed, my mind not up for dealing with…whatever was going on up there. It was barely up for navigating my way through the kitchen. I half tripped over Lockheed, still dressed in my pajamas and robe, my hair a tangled mess. While I normally reached for something a little more substantial for my morning meal, I went for cereal and milk. Clearly, I could not be trusted with the stove.
“Good morning, Dawn.”
I turned around to see my mother entering the kitchen, the morning’s mail in her hands, signaling that I had slept later than I had intended.
“You were out late last night,” she remarked, taking a seat at the table.
“Yeah…sorry.” I winced as I took my seat, flashing back to my high school days and how strict she had been about curfew.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I understand that you’re an adult now. You don’t need to be in at a certain time. Although a heads up would be appreciated.”
Ah, right. The woman who had seen her daughter kidnapped twice wanted a heads up for when I was out late. Imagine that!
“Yeah, I understand,” I replied, taking my seat. “I’ll try and be better about that.”
“I’m sure you will. Especially with everything that happened yesterday,” my mother replied. “You made a good decision not to go to Edison Kent’s rally.”
Of course. The political rally. She had been there. Only, she hadn’t told me about it yet…
“What happened at the rally?” I asked, trying to sound casual as I poured my cereal.
“I’m surprised you’re not aware,” she said, raising her mug. “The rally was attacked by a disturbed Actual. The papers are calling her Black and Blue.” She sipped on her coffee. “Between Hikari,, and Black and Blue, I’m beginning to feel as if were being invaded by colors.”
“Well…then it is a good thing I wasn’t there.”
“I was.”
My hand tightened around the handle of my spoon as I felt a sudden, seductive spike of rage run through me. The memory of my mother standing there, supporting that traitorous Edison Kent…
“Dawn, is there something wrong?”
I gritted my teeth, pulling myself back from the edge. A rage, like what I had felt with Alex, bubbled up in my chest.
There was something terribly wrong with me.
“I’m…sorry.” I swallowed. “It’s just…I didn’t know that you were in favor of his views on Actuals. Although in retrospect, I guess it makes sense.”
I had been kidnapped by one, after all.
“Dawn, how can you think I would support a man like that?”
I blinked and looked upward.
“Then why did you go?” I asked.
“I went because I wanted to stop two good friends of mine from making a horrible mistake.” She shook her head. “That man is very dangerous.”
“Y-you think so?”
“Yes, and so few people seem to realize why. Barring his history with alcohol abuse, he is an overall unexceptional candidate. His political career has been all-around mediocre. He lacks any real charisma, and his skills as an orator are limited. Oh sure, he’s well connected enough. But where his biggest strength lies is his ability to tap into people’s anger, and worse, their fears.”
I watched as my mother placed the mug of coffee down and looked me right in the eye.
“Dawn, how much do you remember about your grandmother?”
“Obachan?” I asked, remembering my slightly cantankerous enka-loving paternal grandmother who had died when I was a senior in high school.
“No, my mother.”
I blinked. My maternal grandmother had given birth to my mother later in life (in her mid-forties), meaning by the time I was born, my grandmother was already in her seventies. Although she did live to be in her eighties, she had died before I was ten, so my memories about her weren’t as vivid of those of Obachan.
But now that I understood who my mother was speaking of, I realized why she had brought her up.
“She…you’re referencing her time in that internment camp.”
She nodded. “My mother was such a shy woman and spoke very little about her past. I wasn’t able to get her to say anything about her time in Manzanar until she was quite elderly and somewhat confused.” She paused, her gaze distant. “She was young at the time, close to your age, now that I think of it. At first, they went willingly; her parents wanted to prove that they were Americans, after all. But as the years passed, things began to look quite different.
“They of course had done nothing wrong. Like everyone in those camps. But they were treated that way because people didn’t see a Japanese face or hear a Japanese name and see an American citizen, or even a fellow human being. Instead, they saw a threat.” My mother’s gaze slid back to me. “We pay so little attention to our history. People perform the same actions repeatedly, merely transferring their anger and fear onto a new group—the Irish, the Japanese, Muslims, Hispanics.”
“And you’re worried that Edison Kent is trying to do the same with Actuals? Empowered people?”
“Well…it’s not really the same, to be honest.” My mother shifted in her seat. “Doesn’t quite possess the same sting as racism or anti-religious sentiments, but there are some similarities. Ten years ago, people with unique abilities start popping up everywhere, leaving the public confused and scared. And then someone like Edison Kent comes along—”
“To capitalize on it,” I finished.
“Hmmm, yes, although I can’t imagine that Kent’s motivations are purely intellectual. That man has always led with his emotions.”
I nodded, remembering that my mother and Kent tended to run in similar social circles. How had I forgotten about that?
Because I didn’t think that deeply about her, period. In my mind, she was my mother and that was that. But of course, there was more to her. Just like Alex had layers, my mother did as well. Why was it so hard for me to see that?
“So that’s why you were there, with Renee’s parents?” I asked.
My mother frowned. “How did you know who I was with?”
I paused, my breath catching in my throat. Shit. Shit. Shit. Come up with an excuse. Make it simple, believable.
“Renee,” I blurted out.
“Oh, I didn’t know you two were still friends.” A small smile spread on my mother’s lips. “I’ve always liked that girl.”
“We just talk on Facebook sometimes,” I added, with a nervous laugh.
Shut up, shut up! Now I’d have to go and check and see if we were even friends on Facebook. Renee wouldn’t find it weird if I friend requested her, right? Did she even use Facebook?
“Does she ever ask about Alan?”
“Alan?” I blinked.
That’s right, Renee and Alan had dated, oh…a little over a year ago. It had fallen apart soon after Alan had moved to Boston.
“Ah…no,” I answered honestly.
“That’s a pity,” my mother said, turning back to her coffee.
I nodded. My brother had never been big on dating. Oh sure, there had been a
few girls, but the fact that he was always grades ahead of everyone had complicated things.
Not that there weren’t opportunities. God knows Sunshine always happened to mention her availability whenever he was in town.
I jerked as I felt the phone in my pocket beep. Was it Alex, after I had blown him off yesterday? I reached for it, my half-eaten cereal forgotten on the table, and pulled up my messages.
There was one from Dana.
“Has anyone ever told you that it’s a bad idea for college-aged girls to send multiple text messages to MARRIED MEN late at night? My wife’s gonna think I’m a pedophile if she finds this.”
My fingers flashed over the screen.
“I think the pedophile thing only counts if the person is under eighteen.”
“The extra two years does NOT make things less disturbing, kid. And what do you mean Calypso’s back?”
Yep. Looks like it was time to bring this conversation away from the prying eyes of my mother. I gathered up the cereal bowl and headed to the garbage disposal.
“Is that going to be enough for you?” I heard my mother ask.
“Ah…yeah?” I said. “I just remembered that I need to get to campus early today.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, um, group work.”
My mother’s next question was drowned out by the grind of the garbage disposal. Now I would need to remember that I had said I was doing a group project in case she asked later. For the first time in my life, I found myself wishing that I had been one of those out-of-control teens. At least then I would have some practice in lying to my mother.
I turned around to put the bowl in the dishwasher and jumped slightly when I saw my mother standing behind me, a large apple in hand.
“In case you get hungry,” she said.
“Um…thanks!” I replied.
I couldn’t help but wince at the false cheer in my voice. I took the fruit and began to head up to my bedroom to change.
“Dawn…have you met a boy?” I heard my mother say as I hit the stairs.
What were you doing up there with that girl?
The voice of Mary Mayhew shot through my brain, filling me with a jolt of fear.
“Or is something wrong?” she asked.
You have no idea…
“I’m okay,” I said, swallowing. “I’m just…worried about being late.”
And with that, I headed up to my room, pulling the phone out of my pocket once I hit the top stair, one thought thundering through my mind.
What the hell was happening to me?
I had hoped that jumping across the city would help clear my head, but by the time I arrived, I was still on edge. Dana wouldn’t be here for at least twenty minutes. He had farther to travel and needed to call out of work first. I was surprised how little effort it had taken me to convince him. Only a minor level of pleading. And Alex…
I transformed in front of the backdoor to Birchwood Realty, checking my phone one more time, seeing if Alex had responded to my text.
My screen showed no new notifications. I felt my stomach drop.
Well, I had pretty much run away from him yesterday. Could I really blame—
The door to the building swung open, revealing Jane on the other side. I blinked, realizing she wasn’t wearing her dark glasses any more. I wondered what that meant regarding her concussion. She gave me a quick once-over.
“Oh,” she said. “You’re just you today.”
“Um…yeah?” I pulled my scarf closer.
“Does this mean your powers are still low?”
I shook my head.
“No, it’s just my phone. When I transform, everything in my pockets seems to disappear, and I want to make sure that I don’t miss a call from Alex or Dana…”
Wonderful. I was babbling. I really needed to invest in a super-fanny pack.
“Oh, okay,” Jane said, stepping aside to let me enter the building. “That makes sense.”
“Huh?”
“Your family bloodline, A-249? Their illusions…well, they typically weren’t all that flexible. And when you first established this mental projection, you probably didn’t think of her having pockets or a cell phone.” Jane paused. “Do you remember the conversation we had yesterday? Riley is always telling me that I can’t expect everyone to have as good of a memory as I do.”
She rolled her eyes as she spoke.
“No, I remember,” I said as we made our way to the bay of elevators. “How are things between you and Riley? You had quite an argument yesterday.”
Jane’s face darkened, and for a second, she didn’t respond, just focused on pressing the button to call the elevator.
“We’re fine, although it’s still hard for me to…” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “I got upset, remembering all my failed Awakenings, and wasn’t thinking clearly. That’s all. I mean, I’m aware I suck at this. Being a field agent.”
“Huh?” I blinked. “But all the information you had about my family. That was impressive!”
A soft ding sounded as the elevator doors opened. We stepped inside, Jane pressing the button for the third floor.
“Well, yeah, that’s because I was a good archivist. But as a field agent, I’m terrible!”
“Sorry if this is none of my business, but if you were such a good archivist, then why change?”
Jane took in one big breath, then let it out.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Ah…what?”
“It wasn’t my decision. Came from the higher-ups.”
“I’m kind of new at all of this but aren’t people supposed to tell you why you’ve been fired?”
“You people still talk about this like it’s a job.” She shook her head. “When you get an order from Leadership, you don’t question it. One day, I was an archivist’s assistant. The next day, I showed up after school to find out they were sending me out to be a field agent with Riley.”
The doors rolled open, but Jane stood still.
“Just like that?” I asked with a frown. “No explanation.”
“Everything was gone. My files, my computer, all my research on Dead Trees. I wasn’t even allowed to talk to my mentor. They just sent me away.”
“That’s…really weird, Jane.”
“Yeah. They said it was because I was such a good shot with the cannon, but sometimes I wonder if maybe they were just trying to get rid of me.”
The door began to roll shut in front of us. Jane stepped forward to catch it, only to freeze when another hand shot out from the outside and caught it. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Was it possible that Alex was already here?
I felt my face fall when the doors rolled open again to reveal Riley on the other side holding…was that a toaster waffle?
“Morning, Red,” he said, then focused on Jane. “We good, Jane?”
“Of course,” Jane said with a scowl.
“Good.” He nodded at me. “Maybe with you here, Calypso will finally wake up.”
After years of watching cop shows, I couldn’t help but think about Calypso’s room, with its two-way mirror, as an interrogation room. She lay asleep on her bed, practically in the same position from the day before. I swallowed, the sight of Calypso—no myself—unconscious unnerved me.
The fuzziness I had felt in the back of my mind from yesterday was back. I reached out and touched my head.
“She’s still asleep?” I asked.
“More like asleep again,” Riley replied, leaning against the back wall. “She woke up around midnight, but we couldn’t get anything outta her. Half the time she’s almost feral, snarling and running around the cage. The other time, we can’t make heads or tails of what she’s trying to say. We ended up drugging her food.”
“Amity.” I shook my head. “She said that when she found Calypso in the asylum that she was, well…a mess. It wasn’t until she started to use her powers that she began to get her mind back.”
“Meaning we’re all the way bac
k to square one.”
I frowned, lingering on the dull fuzziness in the back of my brain. I reached out and touched the glass.
And then Calypso sat straight up in her bed. I jumped in response.
“Shit,” Riley swore. “Do you think…”
I watched as Calypso tried to move to a standing position, then jerked to a stop. She looked down, moving the covers away to discover that her right hand had been handcuffed to the bed. Her breath caught in her throat, and she jerked at the chain, once, twice, three times, four, each movement in quicker and quicker succession.
I felt a twinge of panic so sharp that I had to fight against doubling over. I felt my stomach clench. My arms wrapped around my middle reflexively.
“What the hell is this?” I said, taking in a big breath. “What’s the point in handcuffing her when you’ve sedated her?”
“We are dealing with a woman who can make anyone intensely loyal to her with the touch of her hand.” Riley shrugged. “And that was before the super-strength.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Jane said. “The illusion…you don’t have access to your powers in that form, so she shouldn’t either.”
“And if she transforms, a single pair of handcuffs is not going to slow her down!” I replied, voice sharp.
“Then I better get started before she thinks to do that,” Riley said, exiting the room.
Second later, he entered the room on the other side of the glass, a folding chair in hand. Shutting the door behind him, Riley unfolded the chair and sat on it backwards, facing Calypso.
“Good morning,” Riley said, then paused. “You’ll have to forgive me ma’am, but I’m not sure exactly what to call you. Do you prefer Callie, or Calliope, or Calypso?”
Across the room, Calypso’s eyes, my eyes, refused to meet Riley’s gaze.
“My name,” she said, voice shaky, “is Dawn Takahashi.”
“I was right,” Jane said, taking a step forward. “It’s your powers. The illusion is so complete that she thinks she’s you.”
Riley was silent for a few seconds before speaking again.
“Okay, Dawn,” he said. “Let’s answer a few easy questions then. Let’s start with the date—”
Black and Blue Page 22
