Miracle's Touch

by J. A. Cipriano

  The rectangular panel of metal let out a terrific clang as it slammed flat against his face and upper chest, accompanied by the crunch as his nose broke. Thank God the lid hadn’t hit edge on. I’d have to be more careful as I didn’t want to kill anyone out here.

  Harry went down hard, and his two buddies froze, hesitating for that one dangerous second as I had. Me, I was done hesitating.

  Ignoring the flare of agony as I reached out for the dumpster with both hands, I gripped the now-open edge of the thing, dragging the heavily-laden robot over despite the squeal of its brakes. Before the two assholes realized what was happening, I let out a focusing yell as I slammed my right boot heel right into the side of the dumpster.

  The poor thing’s brakes gave out entirely as the dumpster rocketed along the ground like a rectangular bowling ball. The would-be victim looked on, eyes wide and hope rising in her heart like a flame, as a thousand pounds of steel and garbage slammed into her final two attackers, blowing them off their feet into crumpled heaps from the force of the impact. Shakily, she got to her feet, her gaze shifting from her would-be rapists to me.

  “Thank you, Ms. Miracle!” she said with shuddering breaths. “That was amazing.”

  Pressing my silver-gloved hand to my bleeding shoulder and breathing hard from the intensity of the moment, I wasn’t sure I was quite that amazing, but the joy, the relief in that young woman’s heart did a good job at making me feel better than I should have. I was about to say something hopefully witty or encouraging to the rescued victim, when a booming baritone voice echoed from over our heads.

  “I came as soon as I heard the screams, but it looks like someone beat me to the rescue.”

  We both looked up to match the image to the sound we both certainly recognized. Floating above us, arms crossed over his broad chest, was Paragon, the greatest hero in the world.

  5

  Billionaire. Philanthropist. Futurist. Superhero. Demigod. New Harbor’s most eligible bachelor. Those were all accurate ways to describe Robert Washington, Paragon, the man majestically hovering above us.

  At that moment, the description I wanted to use was drop-dead gorgeous. It took all my sense of decorum not to let my jaw hang open and my eyes to eat up every inch of the visage before me.

  Paragon was a sterling specimen of manhood. Tall, but not so much as to be oafish, broad-shouldered and athletic without being over-muscular, his tanned skin and perfectly symmetrical smile shone out with its blinding whiteness. A perfectly tailored golden bodysuit clung to every muscle and angle of his frame, trimmed with matte white, his bulging arms bare save for red gauntlets. With no secret identity, he didn’t bother with a mask or helmet, much to the delight of most of the women (and a fair share of men) in the city.

  Paragon’s head was shaved, but his perfectly trimmed black beard and mustache accented his strong, square jaw. His deep-set hazel eyes, kind and thoughtful, surveyed us as we stared up at him, while his scarlet red cape fluttered in the night breeze. Most superheroes and villains eschewed the caped look for obvious reasons, but when you were the most powerful single being on the planet, you could get away with style over pragmatism.

  Even with all my time on the supers beat, I had never met Robert Washington, well, not face-to-face. I had seen him a few times, at press conferences and flying away from the scene of a battle, but never like this. He was every bit as impressive as I had imagined, and I had a damn good imagination. The only real surprise was that I could read his emotions, just as easily as I could everyone else’s since the explosion.

  Confidence, kindness, thoughtfulness came off of him in waves, with a spark of growing concern as his eyes passed over the bleeding wound in my shoulder.

  I forced myself not to drool or stare. If I was going to be a heroine, I had to deal with being surrounded by some sterling examples of manhood on a regular basis. It was no different than being professional at the Sentinel. Drawing myself up to my full height, I tried to smile through the pain, still applying direct pressure to the wound like a good Girl Scout.

  “Just doing my job, Paragon,” I called up. “Still, considering, eh, things,” – I sort of waved my wounded arm a little – “I’m sure this woman could use your help, and these dirtwads could use a trip to the nearest NHPD precinct.”

  Though shaken, the former victim managed to collect herself with another deep breath. “Wow, I have to be the luckiest woman in this city.” She nodded slowly. “I’m fine, Paragon, thanks to Ms. Miracle here. Take care of these assholes if you’re going to take care of anyone.” She thumbed at her three unconscious attackers.

  Paragon nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his bearded chin as he descended to ground level, but not quite touching down to the ground. “While it’s good news that you’re unharmed, ma’am, we should get you to the authorities for your own safety.” He looked at me, giving me a slow head-to-foot pan in a bit less of a hungry way than I must have eyed him. “I haven’t had the honor, but it is always good to have more supers on the side of the common good. It would be my pleasure to help with your injuries, once we have this fine citizen to safety.”

  Concern mixed with curiosity and just a hint of arousal. I managed not to blush and tried to close that emotional lens. It felt almost … invasive at that moment. It didn’t work though, like an eye I just couldn’t keep closed.

  “The honor is all mine,” I got out, the burning agony turning into a continuous throb. Maybe it was my imagination, but the blood flow seemed to be slowing. “I’ll be fine until we’re done cleaning up here.”

  Paragon smiled and nodded, gesturing with an open hand out towards the much-maligned robo-dumpster. As he closed his hand, the metal box warped and shaped, a plaything in the grip of his amazing power to control the molecular structure of anything inorganic. With a few quick movements of his index finger, the metal flowed and surrounded the three thugs before solidifying into some that resembled an egg carton attached to a sled. The goons were held fast in three of the four spaces where one would put the eggs, and he smiled slightly at his work.

  Despite the lingering pain, I laughed a little at the whole thing. “Bad eggs?”

  His smile ticked up slightly. “The worst, Ms. Miracle.” Floating to the flat sled-like portion, he gestured towards it. “Ladies, while the chariot is crude, it should be comfortable enough for this short trip. I hope I’m not wrong in assuming that you’d prefer some kind of transport, Ms. Miracle. It’s no disparagement to your abilities, whatever they are, but you are injured …” His deep voice trailed off, and I felt the tiniest hint of embarrassment.

  Our victim glanced between the two of us, a hint of amusement under the spiral of relief and trauma from the attack, before climbing up onto the ‘chariot.’ I smiled myself and shook my head.

  “No offense taken, and I’m not too proud to take advantage of the offered ride.”

  As I moved to hop up myself, Paragon made an idle gesture, and totally unneeded platforms grew from the asphalt to give me an easy step up. I was appreciative, sure, but my thoughts mirrored what the young woman muttered as she hugged herself.

  “I didn’t get steps.”

  He arched an eyebrow, and for all his nigh-infinite power, he did the most human of things, rubbing the back of his bald head in embarrassment. “Oh, my apologies, ma’am. It was simply because she was hurt and …” He coughed into a hand. “I’m sure you understand. We should be off.”

  I patted the girl with a gloved hand, careful not to get my blood on her. “I bet he remembers steps for everyone next time.”

  The mortification I felt off Paragon as he picked up the repurposed dumpster with one hand made me smile. The humanity it revealed behind the image of perfection he normally showed painted him in a new light to me.

  “Hold on, ladies,” he called out from beneath us. “We’re taking off now, and I would be even more embarrassed than I already am if either of you fell … not that I wouldn’t catch you.”

  And with that, we were off
, soaring through the sky, giving me a view of the city even greater than the one I had seen from the heights of the rooftops. The air whipped through us as we slipped through the clouds and before I knew it, we descended back into Bricktown, right in front of the local precinct house.

  I wasn’t too surprised to see that a pair of the local cops were waiting for us. While I hadn’t been able to afford it yet, Powerstyles sold quite a few concealed communication devices, linked straight to the local police bands. Considering Paragon owned the company, he certainly had the best. As he set the delivery of criminals and victims down, one of the two, Officer Laredo by his nametag, strolled up, his hands on his gun belt.

  “Evening, Paragon,” he nodded, digging in his belt for a bundle of zip-tie handcuffs. “We’re always happy to see you in Bricktown.” That’s when he noticed me. “Oh, you had some help too. Now, don’t tell me. I just went over the registration updates …”

  From Laredo’s feeling of vague embarrassment and need to try to cover it up, I knew he didn’t know. I hopped down from the sled as Paragon gentlemanly aided the young lady, Ruth as she had told me on the flight, to the ground. “Ms. Miracle, at your service, Officer Laredo. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “She deserves the bulk of the credit, officer,” Paragon added as he snapped his fingers, the entire structure pulling free from the semi-conscious goons and reconstituting into a basic rectangle of metal on the sidewalk. “Miracle had the situation handled; I simply helped with the clean-up.”

  Laredo nodded appreciatively. “Well, we’re glad to have you, especially with that high praise.” His sincerity was plain, and I noted his name and badge number. I’d always been good with names and faces, a talent only enhanced by years at the paper. “We can take things from here, heroes. Not telling you how to do your jobs but …” His eyes moved to my bloody shoulder.

  “We’re taking care of that right now, officer,” Paragon smiled and nodded. “Thank you for your hard work, and if you need me, you know how to contact me.”

  I offered my hand to Officer Laredo, my unbloodied hand. “Yes, thank you, and as soon as I get an official communicator, I’ll make sure you have my number.”

  Laredo took my hand and gave it a careful shake. “You’re welcome. Good luck out there!” He turned and nodded to his partner, the pair splitting up. Laredo went to zip-cuff the would-be rapists while his partner took Ruth around the shoulder to lead her inside.

  Paragon turned to me, still never quite touching the ground, and offered his hand to me. “Shall we?”

  Now, I’ve been around the rich, famous, and superpowered in my work. While I’m a massive fangirl for the supers set, I was a professional, and I could normally handle it. This time, it took all my self-control not to let out a very unprofessional squeal of delight.

  Instead of going fangirl completely, I very professionally took his hand. I could feel his warmth, his strength, and it sent thrills through me, right down to my core. Through sheer willpower, my voice didn’t quaver as I said, “Let’s.”

  6

  I blew out a long breath as Paragon carefully examined the bullet wound throbbing in my shoulder. “I won’t lie. When you quite literally swept me away into the skies, this isn’t where I pictured you would take me.”

  We had landed on the roof of an ultramodern skyscraper at the edge of Bricktown and Downtown, one that I was certain he owned. A section of the roof had been partitioned away from the antenna arrays and air conditioning units as some sort of sitting area, with benches, tastefully arranged greenery, that sort of thing. Instead of leading me inside, as would fit every fantasy I admitted I had, he bid me sit down on a stone bench.

  There was an ingrained distance in his look as he glanced from the now-seeping injury to me, but I could sense something deeper. “My apologies, Ms. Miracle. We are only meeting for the first time, after all. I don’t wish to cast doubts, especially after the good works I saw you do tonight, but …”

  What surprised me a little was that I could read his heart so easily, maybe even easier than everyone else. In that heart was a loneliness and caution I hadn’t felt before, a self-imposed exile that made my heart ache in return.

  “I could be someone trying to manipulate you,” I said softly. “A villainess out for revenge, even, like the Red Web tried to do to you last August.” I smiled at him warmly. “It’s okay, I understand. When you’re, well, you, you not only have a target painted on your chest, but everyone fixates on you, for good and for bad.”

  Some of the warmth from before our flight crept into his heart as he turned his eyes back to the wound. “I’m glad you do. I don’t want to come off as rude or arrogant or … well, I’ve been called many things by many people.”

  His hazel eyes glowed with a blue light as they focused on the bloody mess of my shoulder. I tried not to look too closely myself. Not that I’m especially squeamish, but there’s always something about looking at your own cuts and scrapes, isn’t there?

  “Well, I have some excellent news,” Paragon said with a genuine smile. “The damage doesn’t appear as bad as it does from this side. I don’t know the extent of your powers, but you do seem to be quite tough. Your body is already starting to mend the damage.” He passed two raised fingers over my shoulder, and I felt some of the throbbing abate as if something that had been pressing into the tissue was suddenly gone. “There. I’ve turned the bullet into pure oxygen. It should already be dissipated out of the wound. Unfortunately, I cannot alter organic matter, so I can’t completely seal the hole.”

  Gingerly, I moved that arm, careful not to pull so hard as to force more bleeding. “That still worked wonders, Paragon.” I met the growing happiness in his heart with a smile. “Thank you.”

  “I can do more … if you wish.” He snapped open a compartment on his utility belt, the only piece of his tailored costume that broke its carefully designed lines. “As you will discover, it pays to be prepared in our line of work, not to mention well-versed in basic first aid techniques.” He pulled out a square ceramic box, white with the classic red cross atop it.

  “Please, feel free.” I patted the thin sash on my hips with my unbloodied hand. “I know my way around a first aid kit, fortunately, though it’s a bit harder to hide things in one of these than one of those.” I pointed back to his belt with amusement on my lips.

  “Heroes’ fashion is a bit more … accepting of things than that for heroines. One of many injustices in this world I haven’t found a logical way to deal with.” He opened the first aid kit on the bench next to me. “I may have to temporarily dissipate a part of your costume. That’s, uh, all right, yes? I promise to keep it to a minimum and repair it afterward.”

  Was that a hint of embarrassment from a physical god walking among men? It raised my respect for him more as it further humanized him to me. I guess it was reassuring to know that the most powerful man on Earth had a few little flaws here and there. Admittedly, there was a part of me that wouldn’t have minded if he had stripped away my entire uniform then and there …

  “Of course, it’s all right.” I held my injured arm out to my side. “I’m simply thankful for all the help.”

  He pulled out a package of sterile gauze, a wound cleansing fluid I’d seen in every hospital ever, and a spray can of instant bandage, one of the many advances made by S.O.S. Labs.

  “Well, helping is what we are here for.” Arching an eyebrow as he waved his free hand over my shoulder, that same blue glow passed over the rent part of my costume, the super tough Duraplex material disappearing into motes of light to expose my pale skin and the still-bloody wound. “Besides, I am delighted to get the chance to repay the person who saved a dozen people at one of my properties.”

  It shouldn’t have surprised me that he would know, not with the resources at his disposal. “I won’t dispute that.” I felt his gaze on me and the curiosity radiating off him. “You’re probably wondering why I didn’t stay at the lab, aren’t you?”

  “N
o.” Paragon looked back to the task at hand, gingerly cleaning the blood and dirt from the bullet hole. “I can understand why a debuting new superhero might avoid the media, especially if they weren’t prepared. While most of the people you rescued were unconscious or barely so, the scientist in charge of the demonstration saw enough to know that you weren’t in this kind of costume then.”

  For someone that didn’t know what pain was, he was amazingly gentle and careful, but his care still caused twinges of pain. Trying not to wince, I said, “But you’re curious. There’s something you want to know.”

  He paused for the slightest of moments, and his surprise was plain. “Well, yes. There is.” He mastered that shock in a moment as his normal reserved mask slipped back into place. “I want to know who you are under the mask.”

  “That’s a pretty big faux pas in this business, isn’t it?” I arched an eyebrow as I kept studying him while he switched the cleanser for the instant bandage. “Though if there’s anyone I’d trust in New Haven with that knowledge, you would be on the shortlist. Of course, now I’m curious as to why? Why do you want to know?”

  “You could blame a colleague of mine, I suppose,” he frowned, applying a few careful sprays of the bandage to my skin. It was cutting edge stuff, essentially artificial skin that matched the DNA of the person its applied to. No chance of rejection and it sealed most wounds in seconds. “I asked for his help to track you down, just to ensure that the person who did save those people wasn’t also the one who caused the accident in the first place.”

  “I didn’t, that much I can assure you,” I said firmly, tamping down on the little kernel of outrage at even being accused of it. Watching the skin do its work, filling the hole the bullet had made before turning from clear to the same alabaster color as my skin, was fascinating. There was no surprise in Paragon’s feelings from that revelation, so my next question was obvious. “But you already knew that before tonight, didn’t you?”