Super for You, Bad for Me

by Asta Idonea

  I cut along the narrow side street that led to my flat. All the while, I tried to recall what snacks I had in the cupboard, craving something sweet to go with my hot drink before bed. But only something small; I had to think of my waistline.

  I had only made it halfway down the alleyway when suddenly every streetlight in view blew.

  Pieces of plastic and glass rained onto the pavement in a discordant tinkle. Meanwhile, the abrupt plunge from half-light into a deeper gloom brought me to a halt, my limbs freezing as my heart pounded. I told myself it was only a power surge. Tomorrow, local residents would take to social media to moan about the council’s appalling maintenance record. The media might also dig up some fresh scandal about the current representative to show alongside their report on the outage.

  These attempts to laugh off my fear were only partly successful. Nevertheless, my front door was a mere two minutes away. Less if I ran. Spurred on by that thought, I forced my legs back into motion. However, I progressed only a few meters before something heavy slammed into my back and sent me crashing to the ground.

  I scrambled to my knees, ignoring the flash of pain in the left joint and the gravel scrapes tingling my palms. I got no further than that. A second blow knocked me down again. This time, though, I landed on my side, and from that angle, I saw that my opponent was a flying dustbin! I reached for it with my mind and encountered that familiar resistance. Mr. Hoodie was here. He must have been the one walking behind me.

  The dustbin swung toward me again, but I halted it midair. I couldn’t assume enough control to put it out of play. I could, however, maintain a stalemate. When I peered around the bin in search of my true adversary, the street beyond looked empty. Nonetheless, I knew he was somewhere nearby.

  “Show yourself.” I used my most impressive action-hero voice. “I know you’re there. Why not face me like a man, instead of hiding behind tricks and dark hoods?” I wondered if the comment on his lack of guts was a step too far. But I was a superhero, and superheroes often goaded their enemies by means of their moral superiority. It worked out all right for them. Most of the time.

  There was a shift in the shadows and an indistinct black shape moved toward me. I held my ground as it drew closer and formed into a man’s silhouette. Only when we stood a mere two meters apart could I finally make out his face, and this time I recognized him.

  “You! Why?”

  “I would have thought that was obvious by now.”

  Was it? I scrambled for an answer. “You’re upset that I got these powers too?”

  “No.” He sneered but then paused and gave a negligent wave of his hand. “Well, yes, I suppose that, too, but that’s not the main reason I want you out of the way.”

  The last piece of the puzzle slotted into place. “Kane. This is about Kane, isn’t it?”

  “Bingo. We got there in the end. I’ve given you more than enough warnings, Outterridge. Now I want you gone.”

  “He’s already told you, he’s not interested.”

  “That’s because you’re around. If you leave, he’ll reconsider.”

  “He won’t.”

  Laurence Bartholomew stormed forward and jabbed a violently shaking finger toward my face. “You think you’re better than me? In the eyes of the world at large, we’re both nothings, nobodies. Yet Kane picked you. For years I’ve stood in the shadows, but now I have the power to force others to see me, to take what I want from life. If you’re good enough for Kane, then so am I. In fact, I’m better. I have talents you’ll never possess. I can give him anything he needs.”

  There was something familiar about Laurence’s phrasing. A second later, it clicked.

  “It was you who sent him that note.”

  “I wanted him to know how I feel about him. When he understands that, he’ll—”

  “He found the note disturbing, upsetting. He wasn’t impressed by your mad declarations. You’re lucky he didn’t call the cops.”

  “Leave him! You think a smashed window at your restaurant or a tiny explosion in a bin are the worst that I can do? Call him tonight and tell him it’s over. Do it now, so I can hear.”

  Even in the gloom, I could see the sweat pouring down Laurence’s face. He looked ill. However, his physical condition was hardly my top priority.

  I squared my shoulders. “And if I refuse?”

  “Then I’ll get rid of you one way or another.”

  During the conversation, my mind had been busy. I’d monitored the situation, watching for the chance to make a break for it. And that moment was nearly here. The more worked up Laurence got, the looser his grip on the dustbin became. One more nudge ought to do it.

  “In that case, all I can say is, go fuck yourself, Laurence. You’ll never get Kane. He loves me, and I’m not leaving him.”

  Laurence roared, and for a second, I thought I’d overdone it, giving him greater focus, not less. But then his mental grip slipped and I snatched my opportunity.

  I wrenched control of the dustbin from him and hurled it with all my might. It struck him, the impact throwing him backward, and I spun on my heel and sprinted for my front door. I fumbled the keys before successfully inserting one into the keyhole. A turn of the handle later, I was safely inside.

  I threw all the locks and bolts into place. I doubted they’d stop Laurence if he was intent on gaining entry, but they would slow him down and buy me time. They also made me feel more secure, and I wasn’t one to dismiss such important psychological factors. So far, I’d heard no sound of pursuit. However, I dashed to the front window, tweaked aside the blind, and peered out. The street was quiet and still. There was no sign of Laurence. No windows exploded and no doors flew open. For tonight, at least, the confrontation appeared to be over.

  Letting the curtain fall back into place, I retreated to the center of the room. My palms itched. I rubbed them against my jeans, then mentally reached for the light switch. Under the glow of the bare bulb, I checked my hands. The rash from the gravel was already receding. My knee, too, now only gave a faint twinge. By tomorrow I’d be right as rain. On this occasion I’d come out of the altercation relatively unscathed; even without my hastened healing, it wouldn’t have been too dire.

  How I would have liked to believe that I’d gotten through to Laurence, that he saw the futility and rashness of his endeavors and would trouble me and Kane no longer. I feared it was wishful thinking, though. This had more the aura of a strategic retreat than a surrender. Laurence would be back.

  Unless he couldn’t return.

  Shit. What if I’d hit him too hard and done him serious injury? Maybe the lack of pursuit was because he lay bleeding and broken beneath that dustbin. Should I go and check? I took a couple of steps toward the front door, then changed my mind and sank onto the bed instead. He’d hit me twice, just as hard, and I was bruised but fine. Either he’d retreated to lick his wounds and plan his next move, or he was counting on my tender heart to lure me back outside. I’d be a fool to walk into the trap if it was the latter. Besides, he’d started it. He’d attacked and threatened me, not the other way around. If he got hurt in the process, that wasn’t my fault or responsibility.

  I replayed the scene in my mind. He’d looked totally crazed, and yet the trembling in his limbs had seemed more the result of physical than mental stimulus, as it didn’t alter with his growing rage. What had caused it? Was he on drugs? Was something wrong with him? A presentiment struck me that it could be connected to his telekinetic powers. That was not a comforting thought. I had no wish to descend into madness. Then again, Laurence’s exposure to the slime had been different from mine. I could hope that the mode of acquisition had something to do with it and that I wouldn’t devolve into a similar manic state. I’d been okay so far. No reason to worry.

  The main question now was what to do about him? On the assumption that our confrontation hadn’t induced a complete change of heart, I might face further attack, and I didn’t want to put those around me in any danger. Another poss
ibility was that he would go after Kane in a more direct manner. I needed to warn Kane. But how could I do that without revealing the truth about myself in the process? Was it time for that? Maybe I no longer had a choice.

  I would have liked to have been able to talk things through with someone and get a second opinion. Unfortunately, I had no close friends save Kane, my mother, and maybe Phúc Lành. The latter was out of the question due to the language barrier—this was too complex for hand waving. Neither did I wish to involve my mother—not least because she was a terrible chatterbox and was liable to blab all my secrets to the hairdresser, the gardener, the shop assistant, and anyone else who would listen. There was no one to whom I could comfortably confide my troubles without fear of the consequences.

  A moment later, it occurred to me, that wasn’t quite true. There was one other person I knew who might be willing to lend an ear to my tale, whose advice I believed I could trust. After all, she already knew part of my secret and clearly hadn’t betrayed me so far.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE PARLOR—in the case of this room, “lounge” sounded too commonplace—was warm and cozy. Hyggelig, as the Danes would say. Treading the fine line between delightfully twee and nanna-ish, it exuded a sense of security that, together with the oversized mug of hot chocolate in my hand, had helped to put me at ease as I told my tale of woe.

  Ellen had mostly kept quiet, letting me speak at my own pace, only interjecting when my babbling became incoherent. Now she eyed me over the brim of her spectacles. She pursed her lips, but it was a contemplative look, rather than a condemning one.

  “You’ve got yourself into quite a pickle, haven’t you?” She held out a plate of biscuits; I snagged two. “You’ll have to tell him the truth. This Laurence sounds off his rocker, so that man of yours needs to be on his guard. Hard to do that without all the facts.”

  “But what if he hates me?”

  “That’s a risk you’ve got to take. Think of it this way—better it comes from you. He’ll understand why you kept it from him if you tell him now. He may not view it in such a good light if he hears it from someone else, especially if it’s from this Laurence.” She settled back in her seat. “You already knew that yourself. I reckon you just needed someone else to say it.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “You know I am. I must say, when I agreed to make you that costume, I had no idea I’d become an agony aunt or see you flying around on the news.”

  I scratched a pretend itch on the back of my neck and stared at the carpet. “Yeah, about that…. Thanks for not saying anything.”

  “Seems to me, you’re trying to help people. So long as it stays that way, I don’t see any harm.” She gave me a piercing look. “Take care, though, that all that power doesn’t go to your head. You’ll end up no better than this other fellow.”

  “I’ll have to stop Laurence somehow.”

  “Maybe. But never forget, you aren’t judge, jury, and executioner. Taking on that much responsibility, aside from placing you firmly outside the law, will change a man. Whatever you do, make sure it’s for the right reasons, and never go further than you must. No matter how bleak things look, there’s always another way. Do you promise to bear that in mind?”

  “Of course, Ellen. I promise. I only want to keep Kane and everyone else safe.”

  “Hmm. And what if Kane decided to leave you for this Laurence?”

  “He—” The words stuck in my throat. “He would never do that.”

  “From what you say, I don’t believe he would. Nevertheless, don’t let this be about romantic rivalry. Are you stopping Laurence because you truly think him a danger, to himself and to others, or are you doing it because you don’t want anyone coming between you and Kane?”

  I nodded. “I see what you’re saying, but it’s not like that, I swear.”

  “Good. Then get going. Talk to your man and get it all out in the open.”

  “I will.” I set down my now-empty mug, snatched another biscuit, shoving it into my mouth in two bites, and stood. “Thanks, Ellen.” The words came out mumbled as I fought to speak and chew at the same time.

  “Any time, Oswell. You’re a good lad. But do me one favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “If you and Kane Teague ever call it a day, send him my way. Such a handsome young man.” She winked and we shared a laugh, which lightened a mood that had become somber.

  I was still grinning as I strolled toward the Tube station, but then I thought of my promise to Ellen and my smile faltered. She was right: I needed to speak to Kane sooner rather than later. I paused and retrieved my phone from my pocket. Kane picked up on the second ring.

  “Os! I wondered when you’d call. Guess it really was a late one last night.”

  “Yeah, it was.” At least that wasn’t a lie. “Listen, can we catch up later?”

  “Sounds good. Want to come to mine?”

  At Kane’s place, I was far too likely to be distracted and would never get around to saying what I needed to say. “Actually, I was thinking someplace secluded but romantic. Any ideas?”

  “I know just the spot.” I could hear the smile in his voice; I hoped it would still be there by the end of our meeting. “I’ll send you the address. Two o’clock?”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  “That you will. Love you, Os.”

  “Love you too.”

  I hung up and glanced at my watch. Nearly four hours remained before our rendezvous. My phone beeped and I checked the message. The location was a ways across town, but I still had a good three hours before I needed to leave. It seemed that a stiff drink was in order. Maybe two.

  WHEN I arrived at the address Kane had sent me, I was confused. It was a high-end high-rise, clearly residential. I checked my phone, convinced I’d misread the directions and ended up in the wrong place. Yet it was definitely right.

  “Os!”

  Kane’s approach came as a relief, and I waved in greeting. Upon arriving at my side, he immediately reached for my hand, entwining our fingers as he pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

  “What are we doing here?” I nodded toward the building. “Don’t tell me you have a hidden sex dungeon stashed in the basement.”

  “Ha! You wish! This is my sister’s pad, but I have a key.”

  I was none the wiser. “Isn’t it a bit kinky, having sex in your sister’s flat? She’s not home, is she?” I suddenly feared my planned confessional was about to turn into a surprise family introduction. Had he called his parents here too? Was this an all-out familial ambush?

  “Of course not. She’s at work. Besides, who said anything about sex? You do have a one-track mind.”

  “Only when I’m with you.”

  “Glad to hear it. Come on. You’ll soon see why we’re here. A little patience.”

  Inside, Kane made straight for the lifts, and I hurried after him. He pushed the button marked Rooftop and we commenced the ascent. It felt like an age as I watched each floor tick by, but in reality it was probably barely a minute before the doors slid open to reveal one of the most amazing sights I’d ever seen.

  The roof was a veritable color palette. Various shades of green made up the base of the garden, but bright splashes of floral magnificence peppered this verdigris backdrop. I recognized a few of the flower species; others had an exotic look. Stepping out of the lift was akin to walking into another world. None of this had been obvious when I’d looked up at the building from the ground. The landscape architect responsible had carefully laid out the space with walkways, and benches stood at strategic points. It was a sky park—like something from a sci-fi flick!

  “This is amazing.”

  “I thought you’d like it. It’s the only reason Lils bought a flat this far out.”

  “I’m surprised it’s not packed with people.”

  “It is at the weekend, but most of the residents are young professionals, so they’re all at work on weekdays. Lils assured me that we’
d have this place to ourselves until at least five. So, what’s the verdict? Romantic and secluded enough for you? Although, I should warn you, there are cameras, so don’t try anything too scandalous.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  We strolled in companionable silence for a while, taking in the sights and smells. I spied a bench beneath a bushy canopy and guided Kane to it. We sank upon the wooden seat, and my heart hammered, beating even faster than it had during the bus incident. The courage my new powers had bestowed during that scenario was nowhere to be found when I looked into Kane’s gorgeous eyes and steeled myself to speak.

  Kane’s browed furrowed. “What’s wrong, Os? You look positively petrified.”

  “Kane, we need to talk.”

  “That sounds ominous. Oh God, are you breaking up with me?”

  “What? God, no. Never.”

  “Then what? What could possibly make you look so serious and gloomy? Are you sick? Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

  Although Kane meant well, he wasn’t making this any easier. Would he still want to share everything with me when he learned that I’d been hiding things—pretty damned major things at that—from him for weeks?

  “No, I’m not ill, but there’s something I need to tell you, to confess. You see, I—”

  “Well, isn’t this touching?”

  No, no, no. Not now. Why did he have to turn up now?

  I tore my gaze from Kane to focus on Laurence, who advanced toward us with a confident swagger, despite his flushed visage and trembling arms. A glance back at Kane revealed him looking confused, but then recognition lit his eyes. He smiled, but I could tell from his stiff shoulders that he was far from pleased at the intrusion.

  “Oh, hello. Laurence, wasn’t it? What brings you here? Do you live in the building?”

  “A posh place like this? I could never afford it. No, I’m here on a personal matter. I came to have a little chat with Greenbird.”