I cast a forcepoint to my right and left, dragging two cars from the curb in a pincer to pinch him in the middle, their tires leaving streaks of rubber across the street. He ran directly between them as if unaware of the danger, then threw his hands up at the last moment. They skidded to a stop just before crashing together, failing to so much as even slow him, and a fresh burst of adrenaline pumped into my system as I realized his powers must be ranged. Which meant that he didn’t have to catch me—he only had to get close enough to strike.
A Telekinetic! I thought just as I burst into the intersection, ducking and weaving between moving cars as horns blared and drivers waved their fists. At least, I hoped—with a different geography, my knowledge of the powers here was far more limited than at home. It could be something I was unfamiliar with, something that would manage to catch me by surprise, and I might not be prepared to combat.
Reaching the other side of the street, I glanced back over my shoulder, gritting my teeth as I saw that he had no trouble following me through the mess of cars. I dashed by a food cart, generating a forcepoint to pull at the pot of boiling water and sausages attended by the owner, whipping the mix of steam and liquid towards my pursuer, taking advantage of a lesson I had learned long before at the rehabilitation facility.
For Telekinetics, their strength was determined by how small of an object they could control or their precision. For my pursuer to use his powers to blast the water away, he would have to control each individual drop, and even then the steam would still make its way through. Unless he was incredibly powerful, he’d either have to divert his path or be cooked alive.
But instead of stopping, he ran straight through, raising his hands again. And instead of diverting the flow of droplets, they simply fell to the ground, leaving a path for him through the middle. I panicked, creating two dark orbs from a bin of rubbish nearby, the trash compacting inwards as space overwhelmed it. Individually, they were weak—I didn’t have the time to feed them enough mass to make their explosion powerful. So instead of throwing them one at a time, I cast them outwards, then slammed them together directly at his chest level.
He ducked as the orbs collided, combining to form a greater mass, and I tried to direct them downwards. My grasp on them faltered, and they escaped my control, their momentum carrying them past each other, forming a long dark tube instead of one bigger orb. Space warped around it, throwing out rings of light and diffraction patterns on the ground, and steam rushed to enter the side closest to the pot. Then it blasted out the other side, fogging the window of a nearby car that screeched to a halt, just as the entire tube imploded in a flash of light.
The explosion blew me backwards, but it also threw my pursuer to the ground, his masked face bouncing once off the concrete. Just for a moment, the mask bounced free, and I caught a glimpse below before he ripped it back downwards. Then I was off, angry shouts following me down the street, the loudest from the street vender who had lost a night of profit. I joined the shadows, creating as much distance as possible, seeing my pursuer start to move back to his feet after I had a hundred-foot lead. Then I lost myself among the alleyways, my path chaotic, only stopping to catch my breath after several minutes while ducking into the space between two parked cars.
For twenty minutes I waited, still and silent, until I was sure I had lost him. Then I stalked away in the night, arriving at the coliseum a half hour later, almost too exhausted to create another dark orb. I fed it mass from a puddle, giving it enough weight so that I could properly control it, then threw it upwards as far as I could and still maintain its form. It scaled the side of the coliseum, resting slightly below where I knew we were staying, and I spooled light away from it, flashing on and off through the arch where the rest of the team should be waiting.
Chapter 32
Exhaustion filled me as Arial floated down from the coliseum, and I sighed with relief as I imagined her carrying me upwards instead of having to climb the corridors of steps to the upper stories. It was more than exhaustion—after today, I needed contact, a reminder of a real connection. And even though Francesca had been part of the plan, and it wasn’t my fault to pretend date her, I still felt dirty. Grimy, as if I needed to come clean, to talk to Arial to wash it off my skin.
But when she materialized out of the darkness, my heart fell as I realized it wasn’t Arial at all. Rather, Lilac landed in a trot, her tail swishing back and forth through the air, then lowered herself down for me to ride her back. I sighed, and the tiger growled, looking up at me expectantly.
“Coming,” I said, and patted her shoulder blades. “Just expected something else.”
Then she bounded forwards, and we leapt into the air, circling the colosseum once as we ascended. I felt her draw in a breath for a roar, and cringed at the thought of waking up the city, but she held the sound in as we crested the lip and landed inside the sleeping enclosure. Ennia, Slugger, and Lucio waited there—bleary eyed but not yet asleep, and Lucio’s expression brightened as soon as he saw me.
“Absolutely genius, wasn’t it!” he exclaimed, stepping forward with a smile plastered across his face. “It came to me in a flash. The theater crumbling around us, and you rushing forward to play the part of the savior—and I realized, we had a story of two hopeless romantics!”
“Lucio,” I groaned, my feet sore as they touched down on the old stone. “Why couldn’t you just have stuck with the plan?”
His face fell, and his tone turned defensive. “It worked, didn’t it? We followed you all the way to her place. You have her trust, which is exactly what you asked us for!”
“And I had no idea what she remembered the entire night,” I said, plopping down with my back resting against my pack. “She thinks she’s in love with me and has all these memories of us together, but I have no idea what they are. At any moment, this could come crashing down and it won’t be pretty. I’ll probably get arrested on some stalking charge.”
“Oh, that’s because I gave her dozens of memories,” he said, brightening back up. “I only had time for those, but I have more if you need them!”
“No!” I practically shouted. “I don’t even know the first batch, and I’ve been doing all I can to keep up with those.”
“Well, that can be easily fixed,” he said, rolling his eyes. He focused, and the world around me shattered, replaced by streams of images, sounds, and smells. All from the perception of Francesca.
We were sailing the Mediterranean, just barely outrunning a killer whale as I struggled at the ropes and we glided to safety.
We performed a duet in front of hundreds at a secret underground venue, each of us wearing masks and our voices mingling perfectly, my fingers flying across guitar strings and fans begging for encores, even though they didn’t know Francesca’s identity.
We flew in a biplane, then the engine faltered, and I climbed out of the pilot seat with a wrench, inching up the nose to fix it, grease up to my elbows as we plummeted, the engine catching only seconds before we crashed to the mountains below.
These and dozens more filled my mind, each vying for my attention as they inserted themselves in my mind in a flash. Yet as I staggered back, returning to the coliseum as the images started to fade, I found I could recall any perfectly if I focused on them.
“That should be all of them,” said Lucio, chewing on his lip. “There were a lot, so I’d say it’s at least most.”
“Lucio, some of these are insane,” I said. “Today, she told me I rescued her from an alligator—”
“My bad, forgot that one!” he said as an image flashed in my mind of me holding reptilian jaws open with my bare hands as Francesca pulled her arm out from a gap in its teeth.
“No, Lucio! That’s not the important part. They’re not realistic. I can’t live up to this!” I said, shaking my head, his excitement failing to draw me in.
“They are too realistic, at least to her,” he protested, raising a finger, She’s a movie star, so she needs something exciting to stick. A
ll the details will merge perfectly, plus they’re larger than life! She won’t find contradictions in her own memories, I ensured that, and that’s what breaks the illusion. Don’t you see, SC? They’re bringing forth her emotions, letting her trust you. On her own, she’ll have no idea that they’re fake, I’m good enough now with my power that that’s not an issue.”
“And if someone else tells her they’re insane?” I asked, smoothing out my hair from where it was still tousled from the ride atop Lilac.
“Well then, yeah, she’ll realize they don’t fit. But all memories are like that; people even doubt real memories if they’re told to! Look, I didn’t have much time, so I admit, I pulled some source material from Danger Island Two: Return to Danger. But it worked, SC! It worked.”
I sighed, holding a hand to my head. He was right—as crazy as it sounded, Francesca had bought into the memories completely.
“Besides,” Lucio said, waving a dismissive hand. “These are all memories—they won’t float to the surface unless you go poking around for them. Right now, they’re dormant; she probably isn’t even aware that she has them. I was careful when I transferred them so they didn’t play across her consciousness.”
“Until she starts trying to get me to play guitar,” I retorted. “I had to wriggle out of that just an hour ago.”
“And it worked out, right? Besides, if she’s too persistent about anything, I can just override it next time I’m close. I’ll give her a memory of a tragic accident with you and a guitar, and she’ll feel awful about bringing it up ever again!”
I sighed, shaking my head, unable to cope with his enthusiasm. “That’s the other thing, Lucio. I never wanted her to fall in love with me. I don’t like playing with her emotions. This doesn’t feel right.”
“You want this to work, right?” Lucio asked. “Because emotions override facts, SC. People will believe anything with the right amount of emotion. They’ll look a lie in the face and call it the truth.”
I paused, and Slugger stepped forwards, putting his hands on our shoulders.
“Aye, it’s for her own good,” he said. “Don’t be feelin bad about it, SC. Now fill us in on what happened, and let’s get a plan together.”
“And let’s move somewhere closer, somewhere permanent,” added Ennia. “I want to prepare defenses around her.”
“Defenses?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that we can have many more eyes on her than just our own,” said Ennia. “But until it works, I’m not promising anything. It’s just an idea, but theoretically, it’s sound.”
“She’s just worried because Slugger keeps threatening to give her a C grade on her internship,” interjected Lucio. “But anyways, what happened? I want to know the next part of the story I made.”
“Fine,” I said. “But first, where’s Arial? She should hear this too.”
The three of them exchanged looks, then Lucio spoke, his words uncertain.
“Didn’t you leave her to watch Francesca? We thought she’d be with you.”
Chapter 33
I waited in one of the upper archways of the coliseum, sticking to the shadows to avoid being seen, scanning the streets far below for movement. It was deep into the night, several hours after I had returned, but I couldn’t sleep. Not with Arial missing.
I jumped, hearing the sound of trickling water off to my right, and saw Slugger standing one archway over.
“Slugger, are you—” I started, and his voice cut me off.
“Aye, I’m pissin. Not every day you can do that off the top of a national monument. And this place is a tad outdated for proper facilities, so I’d say I’m justified.”
He finished, then came to sit over by me, his legs dangling off the edge. He flicked a pebble off the edge, and it freefell for a moment before skittering on the deserted street. Nothing moved down there aside from the occasional bit of litter from tourists blown by the wind.
“No use in worrying, lad,” he said, keeping his face straight as he spoke. “Or you keepin vigil. She can fly back up here on your own, and all you’re doin is depriving yourself of sleep. You’re doin her more of a disservice staying up.”
I sighed, my shoulders slumping with exhaustion. “She’s still out there somewhere, Slugger. And she might need our help.”
“I’m ain’t disputing that,” he said. “What I am disputing is that you’re doing anything useful now. For all we know, she’s keepin an eye on our Francesca from a nearby building top. Or maybe she’s figured out the cause to that quake and tailing them. If you knew where she was, that’d be a different story—but ya don’t.”
“What if she’s angry after seeing me and Francesca?” I asked, and he laughed.
“SC, if there’s something I know about Arial, is that she’s not the type to hide when she’s pissy. You’d have a slap across your face, not radio silence.” He yawned, then poked me in the chest. “Now I’m going to bed. And you should too. Going to need that beauty sleep if you’re going to woo the actress.”
I scowled, and he laughed again, putting his hands up defensively. “We all know that’s not why you’re doing it. You wouldn’t be mad at Arial for the same thing. Stop letting your imagination get the better of you. Now am I going to have to carry you to bed? Or do I need to make your sheets too heavy for you to lift off?”
“No, I’m coming,” I said, taking one last glance at the streets. I found my empty sleeping spot, a collection of blankets and thin foam pad that did little to protect against the rough stone below, my pack tipped over at the end like a headboard. I closed my eyes, and sleep rapidly claimed me, my worries of Arial turning to dreams that chased me through the remainder of the night. Fitful tosses and turns in the dark steadily gave way to the light of dawn, and I was first awake among the crew, checking Arial’s sleeping spot immediately. A pillow concealed by blankets gave me false hope, and in moments, the anxiety returned as I looked out over the awakening city, focusing on the empty skies. I turned back as the others started to stir, and my mind turned to plans as they broke out the small breakfast we had brought with us.
“At least one of us is going to have to stay behind in case Arial comes back,” I said as they rubbed sleep from their eyes. “Lucio, I need you with me in case we have to alter some memories on the fly, or for when Francesca starts getting suspicious. Slugger or Ennia, it’s up to you.”
“I wouldn’t want to be stealing opportunities for experience from our young intern here,” said Slugger. “I’ll be restin here until you need someone to start the punching. Ennia half knows Italian too. You’ll be needin that.”
“Latin,” corrected Ennia. “There’s a difference.”
“Half difference, so ya half know it,” said Slugger.
“Alright,” I continued. “Now that that’s decided, Lucio and Ennia will tail me. In case Francesca realizes I’m fake, we can’t risk you being affiliated with me. Lucio, stay close enough that you can drop some powers. Ennia, stay back and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. We need to look out for threats. Remember, the point of all this is to find out what is going on in the greater picture.”
“And what if we do find a threat?” Lucio asked. “Do we just stand back and let them take her?”
“No, we infiltrate, since we’re now aware of how much force they’ll use against her. But to do that, we need knowledge first.”
“Sounds logical,” said Ennia. “I’ll watch for Arial too.”
“We should all keep our eyes open for her,” I said, and the others nodded. In moments, we left, sneaking to the ground floor and onto the streets. Ennia and Lucio fell back as we came closer to Francesca’s apartment, and it was still far too early for me to go inside. Instead, I stopped at a cafe across the street, ordering a light snack and watching the exterior of the building through the window. To my eyes, every passerby seemed suspicious, every tourist had a motive—but no one had any true signs of trouble.
Then after two
hours, I slipped inside the lobby, waving to Rachel behind the counter.
“She’s still getting ready but will meet you down here shortly,” she said with a grandmotherly smile. “Be good to her, boy. Her parents’ divorce hit her pretty hard, and the last relationship wasn’t pretty. She needs some stability, and lord knows she won’t find that in showbusiness.”
Chapter 34
“I thought you said you were getting your luggage,” Francesca said, looking over me as we climbed into the backseat of her car and wrinkling her nose. “Don’t you have anything nicer to wear? I’ll be performing for a small private group at the start of a Gala. It’s in preparation for a new show that our choir is putting on later this week, a private trial run before we go live. There’s the leading CEO of the French steel industry who booked us, I even prepared a solo for him in French! He speaks English, though, so you won’t be left out of the rest.”
“Uh, the airport can’t find it, but they said for sure it’ll be in tonight,” I answered, and Francesca frowned, then brightened up as she started speaking again.
“Fine, but if you’re going to wear the messy look, you’re going to rock it,” she reached over, scrunching her fingers through my hair to make it stand on end, then enlarging the ripped holes in my jeans to twice their size, ripping right through the denim. “There, now you’ll at least stand out. When the cameras show up, angle your head this way.” She took my chin and dragged it down and to the right. “There, now don’t smile. Scowl; no, that’s pouting. We don’t pout. We scowl. There, perfect!”
I struggled not to blush under the look Francesca molded onto my face, the expression entirely unnatural. I’d certainly had my fair share of scowling, but this felt postured, a mockery of emotion. It would probably be best that I avoid the cameras anyway and leave that part to Francesca.
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